. . . A propos! Please fix Damrosch’s honorarium as high as possible. He needs it. In order to recompense him the better, I do not desire any violoncellist. I had arranged with him in your name for eight Louis d’or. You had authorized me to give as high as ten for Laub. Damrosch is Laub + ½. . . .
Laub was a distinguished violinist living in Berlin.
To Richard Pohl (distinguished writer on music and propagandist for Wagner, Berlioz, and Liszt)
Berlin, Sept., 1861.
. . . Damrosch had been engaged by Tausig for joint soirées in Vienna and a long Russian concert tour, but the matter suddenly came to naught, and although one cannot accuse T. of irresponsibility, Damrosch is in such miserable fashion again bound to that sterile Breslau. Poor, greatly talented, honest chap—must fight his way through greatest misère. Is there still no chance for him in Weimar? . . .
To Joachim Raff (German composer of distinction)
Berlin, Nov. 10, 1860.
. . . Your piano and violin sonata I am to play in Leipsig. Laub and Singer are afraid of the Gewandhaus and are not keen about it, so I don’t yet know whom I am to serve as accompanist. Damrosch, with whom I played the composition six weeks ago, conceives it according to my views quite exceptionally. The adagio, for instance, he plays far more beautifully than Laub. Very likely we shall turn to him. . . .
In 1870 the papers were filled with accounts of “the outrageous insult of King William by the French ambassador, Benedetti,” and the hostile attitude of Emperor Napoleon the Third. War was declared and of course we boys immediately began to indulge in imitations of the military drill of the soldiers of our city. The most exciting and welcome news to me at the time was that my piano teacher had been drafted and I had high hopes of not having to continue to undergo the dreary necessity of daily finger exercises, but alas, my hopes were rudely dashed to the ground when a bald-headed substitute appeared to continue the lessons.
Soon the trains were coming in, bringing the wounded, and the French prisoners, among whom the dark-skinned Zouaves and Turks especially excited our interest. We looked with envy at the older boys of our school who, having studied French, used to go up to the French officers and ask them whether there was anything they could do for them.