In 1846 my father was preparing to hold a convention in Augusta, Maine. Mr. Webb was to go with him, and I was sent to his house the evening before they were to start to let him know about the arrangements. Though I knew Mr. Webb very well, I had never had occasion to go to his house. At this time I was seventeen years old. When I was shown into the drawing-room, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Webb and their daughter, a girl then not fourteen. I had not been in the house half an hour before I was deeply in love with her. I found that she was going to Augusta, and I decided at once that I would go, too. So the next day we all started together. She and I grew to be good friends, but the idea of an engagement between us was not to be thought of at that time, and while I lived in Germany we were not permitted to correspond. For five years I did not see her; but when I came back I hastened to her father's house. The sequel I shall tell later.
STUDENT LIFE ABROAD
IT having been decided that I should continue my musical studies in Europe, I sailed from New York for Bremen on the side-wheel steamer Herrmann in May, 1849, accompanied by Mr. Frank Hill of Boston, who had already attained some distinction as a pianist. My intention was to go directly to Leipsic to study with Moscheles. One of our fellow-passengers was Julius Schuberth, the music-publisher of Hamburg, who had been in America on business. Arriving at Bremen, we learned that the insurrection had not yet been suppressed, and that within two or three days there had been bloodshed in the streets of Leipsic. For this and other reasons I gladly accepted Mr. Schuberth's invitation to visit him, first making a short trip to Paris with Hill.
MEETING WITH MEYERBEER
I ARRIVED in Paris shortly after six o'clock in the morning, and went to the Hôtel de Paris, in the Rue de Richelieu. In those days, at that early hour, Paris was as quiet as an American town at midnight. There were three of us in the party. We secured two rooms, and my friends remained up-stairs, while I returned to the porter's lodge below to have my passport sent to the Bureau of Police to be viséd. The porter went out to attend to this, and I was left alone in the lodge.
Shortly afterward a man entered, of medium height, well dressed, and with a good deal of manner. He addressed me in French, but when I asked him if he could speak English he began conversing fluently in that language. He asked if I was from England and a stranger in Paris. When I told him I was from America, he exclaimed, "Ah, that is farther off." Then, noticing the passport, which was uncommonly large and was bound like a book, he asked, "Is that an American passport? Please let me have a look at it I'm curious to see it." Bound in with the passport were a number of blank leaves to be used for the visés of various consuls. "Young man," said my chance acquaintance, "you have leaves enough there to travel about Europe for twenty years." Then he inquired if I was traveling for pleasure or on business.
"I have come over to study music."
"Ah, composition?"
"No; mainly piano, but also theory and composition."
"And where?"