The cover image was produced by the transcriber, and is placed in the public domain.

LOUIS SPOHR’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.

COPYRIGHT EDITION.

LONDON:
LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, ROBERTS, & GREEN.
CASSELL AND GŒTTINGEN: GEORGE H. WIGAND.
1865.

PREFACE.

In publishing an English translation of the unadorned yet highly interesting Autobiography of the celebrated Violinist and great Composer Louis Spohr, we consider we are but satisfying a natural desire on the part of his many admirers in this country to become more intimately acquainted with both the public and private life of this great musical genius—this noble, manly character, in whom were combined in so high a degree the qualities of the true artist with those of the really great-minded and thoroughly good man.

Although nearly twelve years have elapsed since Spohr’s last appearance in England, and during that time numberless foreign artists of distinction have visited us and gathered well-earned laurels and golden opinions in these islands; yet still above all Spohr shines out a star of the first magnitude, and there are no doubt thousands yet amongst us who were present at the performance of his oratorios, under his direction, at Norwich, or attended his concerts in London, and to whom this Autobiography will be of interest. We have little to say of it here—it speaks for itself. Simple and truthful throughout, it is a mirror of the mind of him who jotted down the details composing the same. Modest and unassuming at the commencement of his career, Spohr continued so till the end, notwithstanding the celebrity he achieved and the high position to which he attained. The praises showered upon him neither turned his brain nor puffed him up with pride; and he has left us an example of high morality, great amiability, and bright domestic virtues, too rare alas! among artists and men of genius.

Spohr was a man devoted to his art, and although far from wealthy, often sacrificed his time—which to him, as to most of us, was money—in giving gratuitous instruction to young men of ability too poor to pay for lessons; and not unfrequently has he unhesitatingly dismissed some rich, well-paying, but dull scholar to make way for a poor but talented pupil, in hopes of thereby benefitting his art—and this was his sole reward.

Another prominent trait in Spohr’s character was his childlike simplicity, combined with never-failing good-nature and an inability to bear malice. Nor did the many unavoidable trials and vexations of a long life ever permanently disturb his good humour or sour his temper; and even gross injustice failed to do more than temporarily ruffle the calm serenity of his soul. Thus he passed through the world, an active and highly useful member of society, beloved and respected by all who knew him, till in process of time he went down to his grave full of years and honour.

As is explained in the text, the Autobiography comes to an end with the month of June 1838; but the description of the life and doings of the great master from that date till the time of his death was continued from reliable materials furnished by Mrs. Spohr and other members of the family; so that the whole forms a true account and lively picture of Spohr’s earthly career from his cradle to his grave.

With these few remarks we submit the work to the perusal and kind consideration of the gentle reader.

London, October 1864.

THE TRANSLATOR.

Chronological Index of Contents.

My father, Carl Heinrich Spohr, Doctor of Medecine, afterwards Medical Councillor, was the son of a Clergyman at Woltershausen in the district of Hildesheim. He married, November 26, 1782, Ernestine Henke, daughter of the Clergyman of the Aegydian church of Brunswick, and at first resided with her parents at the parsonage[1]. I was the eldest child of this marriage, and was born April 5, 1784. Two years later, my father was transferred as district physician to Seesen. My earliest recollections reach back to that removal; for the impression made upon me by my mother’s weeping, after having taken leave of her parents, and our arrival at the simple and somewhat rustic house at Seesen, have remained with me up to the present time. I remember also the smell of the newly whitewashed walls striking me as disagreeable, and even now I still retain an uncommon acuteness and sensibility of the senses.

In Seesen were born my four brothers, and one sister. My parents were musical: my father played the flute, and my mother, a pupil of the Conductor Schwaneberger in Brunswick, played on the piano with great ability, and sang the Italian bravuras of that time. As they practiced music very often in the evening, a sense and love for the art was early awakened in me. Gifted with a clear soprano voice, I at first began to sing, and already in my fourth or fifth year I was able to sing duets with my mother at our evening music. It was at this time that my father, yielding to my eagerly expressed wish, bought me a violin at the yearly fair, upon which I now played incessantly. At first I tried to pick out the melodies I had been used to sing, and was more than happy when my mother accompanied me.

Soon after, I had lessons from Herr Riemenschneider, and I still remember, that, after the first lesson, in which I had learned to play the G-sharp accord upon all four strings, in an extasy at the harmony, I hastened into the kitchen to my mother, and arpeggiod the chord to her so incessantly that she was obliged to drive me out. When I had learned the fingering of the violin from notes, I was also allowed to practise music with the others in the evening, as violinist, and there were particularly three trios by Kalkbrenner, for piano, flute and violin, which, after being studied, were executed in presence of our circle of friends.

About the year 1790 or 91 a French emigrant, named Dufour, came to Seesen. Although an amateur, only, he was an accomplished violinist and violoncellist. He settled there; and being supplied with free board by the more wealthy inhabitants, maintained himself by giving French lessons. The days on which he used to come to my parents, we always practised music, and I still remember having been moved to tears the first time I heard him play. I now gave my parents no rest until I had lessons from him.

Dufour, astonished at my rapid progress, was the first to persuade my parents to devote me entirely to music. My father, who had predestined me for the study of medecine, was from his love of music soon brought to agree to this; but he had a hard struggle with my grandfather, whose idea of a Musician was limited to that of a Tavern-fiddler who played to dancers. Subsequently, after I had been so early appointed Kammermusicus[2] in Brunswick, I had the satisfaction to induce my grandfather, who loved me very much, to adopt a higher opinion respecting my chosen career as a musical artiste.

It was while I took lessons from M. Dufour, that I made my first attempts at composition, but without yet having had any instruction in harmony. They consisted in duets for two violins, and I executed them with my teacher at our musical soirées; astonishing my parents with them in the highest degree. To this day, I recollect the proud feeling of being already able to appear before the friends of the house as a composer. As a reward, I received from my parents a gala dress, consisting of a red jacket with steel buttons, yellow breeches, and laced boots with tassels; a dress for which I had long prayed in vain. The duets, which my father has carefully preserved, are indeed incorrect and childish, but possess a certain form and a flowing melody.

This first brilliant success in composition, so inspired me, that from this time I devoted nearly every hour which the school allowed me, to similar attempts: I even ventured upon a little opera, the text of which I took from “Weisse’s Kinderfreund.” It may be mentioned as characteristic, that, I began with the title-page, and first of all painted it very finely with Indian ink; then followed the overture, then a chorus, then an air, and there the work came to a standstill. As I had never yet seen an opera performed, I took the model for these musical pieces from Hiller’s operas “Die Jagd”, and “Lottchen am Hofe”, of which my mother had a pianoforte arrangement, and which she had often sung with me and my father. But I soon felt that I needed both knowledge and experience for such an undertaking, and I therefore set to work at other attempts. In this however, I had a hard struggle with my father, who strongly insisted that every work once begun should be completed before another was commenced; and only because my father was convinced that I was unequal to so great a task, was an exception made on this occasion; but it was never allowed again. To this severity I owe my perseverance in working, and I have always recollected the paternal precept.

As my father liked to superintend the labours of his son, he allowed me to establish myself in his study, not being at all disturbed by the humming and whistling of the young composer. When I had written down anything wrong, which happened frequently enough, and was obliged to scratch it out, my father heard it at once, and would say half angrily: “Now the stupid boy is making windows again!”—for thus he designated the marks I made across the lines, in scratching out. I was very sensitive to this, and that is perhaps the reason why I acquired early the habit of writing off a clean score without erasing anything.

Since it was now determined, on the advice of Dufour, that I should devote myself entirely to music; Dufour insisted that I should be sent to Brunswick to enjoy the advantage of better lessons, particularly in theory. This could not take place till I was confirmed. According to a law strictly observed in the Dutchy of Brunswick, confirmation could not take place before the age of fourteen; in order therefore to lose no time, I was sent to my grandfather in the district of Hildesheim, where it was left to the decision of the clergyman as to when the children could be admitted to confirmation. Here, during the winter, I had lessons from my clever grandfather, both in religion, and other things; but music-lessons were not attended to, for neither my grandfather nor my uncles understood anything about it. I was therefore obliged to walk twice a week to Alefeld with my violin, to take lessons from the precentor there. Tedious as were these journeys, owing to the frequent severity of the winter weather, I was always pleased with them, chiefly, indeed, because I felt that I was above my teacher, and often brought him into difficulties by my fluent reading of the notes; and besides, I had not unfrequently the secret triumph of seeing him brought to a standstill.

Half way to Alefeld, stood a solitary mill. I once entered there during a heavy shower of rain, and gained the good will of the miller’s wife to such a degree, that from that time I was obliged to call every day I passed by, and was treated with coffee, cakes and fruit; for which I used to improvise something upon my violin by way of thanks. I still remember having once so completely ravished her by playing Wranitzky’s variations upon “Du bist liederlich”, into which all the juggles with which Paganini afterwards enchanted the world were introduced, that she would not let me leave her during the whole day.

Soon after returning from Woltershausen, I was sent to Brunswick, where I was received into the house of the rich gingerbread-baker Michaelis, as one of his own children, and treated with kindness by all the members of the family; my father had been their physician and had cured Michaelis’ wife of a dropsy.

I commenced my musical and other studies with eagerness. I received instruction on the Violin from Kammermusicus Kunisch, a well grounded and amiable teacher, to whom I owe much. Less friendly was my instructor in harmony and counterpoint, an old organist named Hartung; and I still remember how severely he once rebuked me, when, soon after the beginning of the lessons, I showed him a composition of my own. “There is time enough for that,” said he, “you must learn something first.” But after some months he himself encouraged me to make trials in composition: he corrected me, however, so mercilessly, and scratched out so many ideas which to me appeared sublime, that I lost all desire to show him anything further. Not long afterwards, our lessons were brought to a close by the ill health of the old man; and these were the only lessons in theory, I ever had. I was now obliged to seek for instruction in theoretical works. But the reading of good scores was of special advantage to me; these I obtained from the Theatrical library through the interest of my teacher Kunisch. In this manner I soon learned to write harmony correctly; and I now ventured for the first time to appear publicly in Brunswick with a composition for the violin. This took place in the School-concert of the Katharinen-Schule, which I attended as a Secundaner. These concerts were instituted by the Prefect for the practice of the School-choir; but from several members of the Hof-Kapelle, the Town musicians, and accomplished amateurs taking part in them, they became so important, that greater works could always be executed, such as Cantatas, Symphonies, and instrumental Concertos. From this time everything was studied very exactly, and the performances, which were held in the tolerably large saloon of the head class, soon became so celebrated, that it enabled a trifling entrance money to be charged to defray the expenses. At one of these concerts I thus appeared for the first time in my native-town, and achieved so much success that I was invited to assist at the Subscription concerts at the Deutsches Haus, and received the usual remuneration. This first payment which I earned as an artist made me very happy, nor have I forgotten the proud feeling with which I announced it to my parents. I now frequently played solos at the subscription concerts, and generally some of my own compositions. I was also allowed to play in the Orchestra of the Theatre for my own practice, and, thereby, became familiar with much good music.

At this time, still possessing my clear, high soprano voice, it gave me much pleasure also to join the School chorus in its perambulations through the town. The leader, who since then has become celebrated as the Bass singer, Strohmeyer, gave the soprano solos to me very readily, from my being able to sing them without fault at sight.

My teacher Kunisch, who interested himself for me in a paternal manner, now insisted that I should take lessons of the Concert-Director Maucourt, the best violinist of the Brunswick orchestra. My father agreed readily, although it was much against his grain to pay the higher charge for this instruction; and the more so, as I had been obliged to leave Michaelis’ house from his inability to give me up a special apartment, and that it was quite impossible for me to play and compose quietly in the same room with the children of the house. A further consequence of this change of dwelling was, that my father was obliged to arrange with his former aquaintances about my having free board; this was very galling to his ambitious son. Nevertheless I was treated in a friendly way by all these people, and thus the humiliating feeling of my position was soon dissipated. I now, with another Secundaner, inhabited a room in the house of the organist Bürger; here however I could practise and compose undisturbed, for our landlord, who interested himself in my musical studies, placed his music room and pianoforte at my disposal.

With M. Maucourt’s instruction, I progressed more and more towards becoming (for my age) an excellent solo player: and after the lapse of about a year, as my father was unable to defray the great expense of my living in Brunswick, on account of the growing up of his other children, he considered me to have made progress enough to enable me to try my luck in the world as a travelling “Artiste.” He determined therefore to send me first to Hamburgh, where he had acquaintances to whom he could give me letters of recommendation.

Accustomed to obey my father in everything, and well disposed to consider myself a shining light, I had no objection to this. If it appear hazardous in the extreme to send a boy of fourteen into the world, left entirely to himself, and trust everything to fortune, its explanation is to be found in the character and life-experience of my father. Bold and enterprising in the highest degree, he also had already emancipated himself in his sixteenth year. In order to escape punishment at school, he had run away from Hildesheim, and supported himself most precariously in Hamburgh, first as a teacher of languages, and afterwards, by giving lessons in the Büsching Commercial school. He then attended several Universities, struggling through great privations by help of his enterprising spirit and unwearying activity; and, at last, without any help from home; after a most adventurous youth, succeeded in establishing himself in practice as a physician in Brunswick. He found it therefore very natural that his son should try the same course, although my mother shook her head thoughtfully at it. Scantily provided with money for the journey, but furnished with much good advice, I was sent by the mail to Hamburgh. Still, filled with the lively impression made upon me by the crowded Commercial City, and the ships, now seen for the first time, I went, full of hope and in high spirits, to Professor Büsching, to whom I had a letter of introduction from my father. But how soon were those hopes to be destroyed! The Professor, after he had read the letter with increasing astonishment, exclaimed: “Your father is then still, the same as ever! What madness to send a boy into the world trusting merely to good luck!” He then explained to me, that, in order to arrange a concert in Hamburgh, one must either possess a well known name, or at least, the means to bear the great expenses it would entail. But, that in summer, when all the rich people were at their country seats, such an undertaking would be quite impossible. Completely down cast by this explanation, I could not answer a single word, and was hardly able to repress my tears. I took leave in silence, and hastened to my lodging full of despair, without thinking of delivering the other letters of recommendation. Here, upon thinking over my situation, the certainty that my money would hardly suffice for a couple of days, terrified me to such a degree, that, in thought, I already saw myself in the claws of the crimps of whom my father had drawn a warning picture. I made up my mind at once, packed up my violin and other things again, sent them to Brunswick by the mail, paid my bill, and with the scanty remainder of my money, which might perhaps suffice to my subsistence, I set out on foot, on my return to Brunswick.

Some miles from the town, calmer reflection brought regret for this overhaste; but it was too late; had it not been so, I would have turned back. I said to myself that it was foolish not at least to have delivered the other letters first. They might perhaps have procured for me the aquaintance of some musical person who would have appreciated my talent, and have procured some information how arrangements might have been made for a Concert. To this was added the humiliating thought that my father who had been so enterprising himself, would upbraid me as childish, cowardly and thoughtless. Thus, saddened to the depth of my soul, I wandered farther, thinking continually how I might avoid the humiliation of returning to my paternal home without having effected anything whatever.

At last, the idea struck me of addressing myself to the Duke of Brunswick, to solicit from him the means to carry on my studies. I knew that the duke had earlier played the violin himself, and I therefore hoped that he would recognise my talent. When (thought I) he has heard me play but one of my concertos, my fortune is made. With newly awakened courage I now journeyed onward, and got over the rest of the road in the most cheerful disposition of mind.

Scarcely arrived in Brunswick, I concocted a petition to the Duke, in which I laid before him my whole situation, ending with the request either for aid towards improving myself, or, for a situation in the ducal orchestra. As I knew that the Duke was in the habit of walking every morning in the park of the Palace, I sought him there with my petition in my pocket, and had the good fortune to have it accepted by him. After having glanced over it and asked me some questions about my parents and former Instructors, which I fearlessly answered, he enquired who had worded the petition. “Well, who but I myself? I need no help for that,” was my reply, half offended at the doubt as to my ability. The Duke smiled and said: “Well, come to the palace to-morrow at eleven; we will then speak further about your request.” Who so happy as I! Punctually at eleven I presented myself before the groom of the chambers and requested to be announced to the Duke. “And who may Er[3] be?” snarled the groom to me in unfriendly tone. “I am no Er. I am here by the Duke’s command, and Er has to announce me”, was my indignant reply. The groom went to announce me, and before my excitement had subsided I was introduced. My first word to the Duke was therefore, “Your Serene Highness! your servant calls me “Er”; I must earnestly remonstrate against that.” The duke laughed aloud, and said: “Come, calm yourself; he will not do it again”. Then, after having put several questions to me to which I gave the most unembarrassed answers, he said: “I have enquired about your abilities from your last teacher Maucourt, and am now desirous to hear you play one of your own compositions; this can take place at the next concert in the apartments of the Duchess. I will have it intimated to the director Schwaneberger.”

In most happy mood I left the Palace, hastened to my lodging, and prepared myself for the concert in the most careful manner.

The Court concerts in the apartments of the duchess took place once a week, and were most disagreeable to the musicians of the Ducal Orchestra: for, according to the then prevailing custom, cards were played during the music. In order not to be disturbed, the Duchess had ordered the orchestra, always to play piano. The leader therefore left out the trumpets and kettle drums, and insisted strongly that no forte should be played in its full strength. As this was not always to be avoided in Symphonies, however softly the band might play, the Duchess ordered a thick carpet to be spread out under the orchestra, in order to deaden the sound. One heard therefore the words “I play”, “I stand” and so forth, much louder than the music.

However, the evening on which I played there for the first time, the card tables and carpet had disappeared; the orchestra, informed that the Duke would be present, had well prepared themselves, and the music went on excellently. As I then still appeared without any timidity, and well knew that my whole future fate depended upon the success of that day, I played with real inspiration; and must have surpassed the expectations of the Duke, for he, even while I was playing, cried repeatedly “bravo”. After I had finished, he came to me, patted me on the shoulder, and said, “The talent is there; I will take care of you. Come to me to-morrow.” In an extasy of delight I returned to my lodging, wrote immediately to my parents of my good fortune, and could get no sleep for a long time, from excitement and joy.

The next day, the Duke said to me, “there is a place vacant in the orchestra, I will give it to you. Be diligent and behave well. If after some years you have made good progress, I will send you to some great master; for here you have no great model to follow!” This last speech filled me with astonishment, for till then I had considered the playing of my Instructor Maucourt, as the utmost that could be attained.

In this manner, in the beginning of my fifteenth year I was appointed Kammermusicus. The Rescript of my appointment which was drawn up later, is dated August 2^nd, 1799. Although the salary was only 100 thalers, yet by great economy, and with the help of other trifling earnings, it sufficed to me; and I did not now need any further help from home. Nay, I was even happy enough to be enabled to render the education of the other children easier for my parents, by taking my brother Ferdinand, who was eight years younger than I, and who showed an inclination and talent for music, to live with me, and give him my assistance to become an artist.

From this time, the young Kammermusicus was in full activity. His duties consisted in playing at the Court-concerts and in the Theatre, for which latter, a French operatic and dramatic company had been engaged shortly before. I therefore became earlier acquainted with the French dramatical music than with the German; and this was not without influence upon the tendency of my taste, and upon my compositions of that time. At last, during the two fairs, a German operatic company from Magdeburgh was also engaged, and the grandeur of Mozart’s operatic music burst upon me. Mozart now became for my life time my ideal and model. Even now I well remember the transport and dreamy enchantment with which I heard for the first time, the “Zauberflöte” and “Don Juan”; and that I had no rest until I had got the scores lent to me, and had brooded over them half the night long.

Neither did I fail to be present at all the other musical parties in the town: I was a member of all the quartetto circles. In one of these which had been formed by two of the singers of the French opera, who played the violin, I heard for the first time the quartettos of Beethoven, and from that time raved no less about them than I had before done about those of Haydn and Mozart. With such constant practice, my playing and taste could not fail to become more and more cultivated. The presence of two foreign violinists who at this time visited Brunswick, produced also a favourable influence upon me. These were Seidler, and the boy Pixis. The former impressed me by his beautiful tone and his pure playing, the latter by his execution, which for his years, was extraordinary.

I very often played in private parties, with the brothers Pixis, and in their second public concert I performed in a double concerto, by Pleyel the violinist. After such encouragement I always studied with redoubled diligence. The duke, who did not lose sight of me, had allowed me to inform him whenever I intended to execute a new composition at the Court concerts, and he was sometimes present, to the great annoyance of the duchess, who was thus disturbed in her party at Ombre. One day when the duke was not there, and for that reason nobody was listening to the music; the prohibition regarding the forte being renewed, and the dreadful carpet again spread, I tried a new concerto of my own. I can only call these performances rehearsals, because no preparation was ever made beforehand, excepting on the days upon which we knew that the duke would be present. Engrossed with my work which, I heard for the first time with the orchestra, I quite forgot the prohibition, and played with all the vigour and fire of inspiration; so that I even carried away the orchestra with me. Suddenly, in the middle of the solo, my arm was seized by a lackey, who whispered to me, “Her Highness sends me to tell you that you are not to scrape away so furiously.” Enraged at this interruption I played, if possible, yet more loudly; but was afterwards obliged to put up with a rebuke from the Marshal of the Court.

The Duke, to whom I complained the next day; laughed heartily: but on this occasion he at the same time adverted to his former promise, and told me to choose a teacher at once from among the great Violinists of the day. Without hesitation I named Viotti, and the duke approved of the choice. He was immediately written to, to London, where he resided at the time. Alas! He refused the request: he wrote word that “he had become a wine merchant,”—“occupied himself but seldom with music, and therefore could not receive any pupils”[4].

Next to Viotti, Ferdinand Eck, in Paris was at that time the most celebrated violinist. He was therefore next applied to. But he also, would take no pupils. A short time before, when engaged in the Court orchestra at Munich, he had eloped with a rich countess; had married her in Switzerland, and now led an affluent life, partly in Paris, and partly upon an estate near Nancy which had been bought with the fortune of the countess. He, however, proposed his younger brother and pupil, Francis Eck, as master. As he was at that time travelling through Germany, and had appeared with great success at Berlin, he was written to; and, in case of his accepting the proposition, invited to Brunswick. Eck came; played at Court, and pleased the Duke greatly. As however he was about to start for Petersburgh upon an artistic tour, I was sent with him as a pupil for a year; and it was settled that I should bear half the expenses of the journey: and that Eck, at the end of the instruction should receive a suitable reward from the Duke. A diary of this journey exists, which from some extracts may perhaps be of interest. It commences a few days before our departure (which took place April 24, 1802), in the following childish manner; notwithstanding I was already a youth of eighteen.

“The Leave-taking.”

“To the most sorrowful hours of life, belong those of leave taking from loving parents, and tried friends. Not even the prospect of an agreeable and profitable journey can brighten them; time only, and the hope of a speedy meeting again, can assuage their pain. From these also do I expect relief on recommencing my musical tour. Farewell, therefore, parents and friends! The remembrance of the many happy hours enjoyed with you will always accompany me.”

We first went to Hamburgh, where Eck intended giving concerts. I regarded this town again, from which I had fled some years ago so full of despair, with a certain degree of self-satisfaction and content.

After Eck had delivered his letters of recommendation, the lessons began. Concerning these, the following is written in my diary:

“This morning, April 30, Herr Eck commenced my lessons. But alas! how was I humiliated! I, who imagined myself one of the first virtuosi of Germany, could not play one single bar to his satisfaction; but was obliged to repeat it ten times at least, in order in some degree to gain his approbation. My bow-ing particularly displeased him, to alter which, I now also see is very necessary. At first it will of course be difficult for me; but at last, convinced of the great advantage of the change, I hope to accomplish it.”

The diary now describes everything that the travellers saw and heard. Attractive as these were to me, yet I did not neglect my musical studies for them. The forenoon, which in Hamburgh lasts till three o’clock, was devoted entirely to practising what Eck gave me. It was not long before he expressed himself favourably as to my progress. Already on May 10, I wrote:

“Herr Eck begins to be more satisfied with my playing, and was kind enough to assure me yesterday that I was now able to play the concerto I had studied under him, without fault.”

The intervals between practising, I employed in painting. From my earliest youth I had applied myself to drawing and painting in water colours, and had attained some proficiency without ever having had any good instruction. Yes, I had even hesitated for some time, as to which of the two arts, music or painting, I should choose for my profession. I now made my first attempt at portrait painting. The 12^th of May I wrote:

“On Sunday I commenced a miniature which I finished this forenoon. I tried to paint myself, and am quite satisfied with the result. This, and playing on the violin have occupied me so fully, that I have not left the house for four days. I sent this picture to my parents, and then commenced painting Herr Eck, who was patient enough to sit to me.”

It is now time to mention that the young artist, from his earliest youth, was very susceptible to female beauty, and already when a boy fell in love with every beautiful woman. It is therefore not to be wondered at, that, the diary of the youth of eighteen contains many pages of the outpourings of the emotions of his heart. But there is great comicality in the earnestness with which these fleeting inclinations are spoken of.

In Hamburgh it was a Miss Lütgens, the daughter of a music master, who particularly won my heart. After a visit paid to the father, I wrote the following:

“His eldest daughter, a girl of thirteen, a very fine, innocent creature, pleased me particularly by her agreable and modest demeanour. She is very beautiful, has hair that curls naturally, very lively brown eyes, and a neck of dazzling whiteness. Her father, whose hobby is counterpoint and harmony, entertained me continually with the resolution and combination of the chords; finding in me the most patient listener to his sermon, while I would much have greatly preferred to speak with his amiable daughter about the combination of hearts and lips.”

In order to a more frequent near approach, I asked permission to take her likeness, which was willingly granted. But before the sittings commenced, I was warned by Herr Eck, whom oddly enough I had made my confidant, that she was a coquette, and unworthy of my regard. At first I could not believe that a girl of thirteen could already be a coquette, but after the first sitting, I became of the same opinion, and wrote the following remarks:

“Henrietta begged me to take her portrait in the dress which she wore, assuring me that she had chosen it expressly; for her other dresses were not cut low enough, and covered her neck too much. I was astonished at her vanity, and the sight of this charming neck which otherwise would have enchanted me now saddened me; being convinced that she was already infected by the vanity and shamelessness of the Hamburgh ladies. While I painted, she chatted with her cousin, (an ugly but vain girl,) of nothing but the dress she intended wearing at the ball which was to take place on the following evening. Quite vexed, I returned home, and wished that we might now leave as soon as possible, for Hamburgh began to displease me more and more. My sociable heart, which could so willingly attach itself to any one, finds here nobody. In this girl, I thought to have found something on which to set my affections; but I see I am again deceived. I had intended making a copy of this portrait for myself; but I am still too much embittered against her to be able to do so. Neither have I now any wish to go to the ball.”

But two days afterwards I wrote, “This forenoon I worked diligently at Miss Lütgens’ portrait—and began also a copy of it for myself. After dinner I went to her..... Henrietta received me with reproaches for not having been at the ball.... To-day, she was so modestly dressed, and spoke so reasonably, that I occupied myself more with her than with my painting, which was the cause of my not quite finishing it. It is really a thousand pities that this girl with so much talent and good sense, lives in such vulgar society, and is thereby led away into the follies of Hamburgh.”

With the presentation of the portrait, and our departure, which took place immediately after; this little romance, that never came to a declaration, terminates.

With respect to the point I had at that time reached in my art, and my views of the latter, my diary shews proofs at every page, of my opinion of what I heard in Hamburgh. Without doubt those judgments are pronounced with the naïve assurance that belongs to youth, and require without a doubt many modifications, if these were possible after the lapse of so long a time. The opinion about Operas, and their performance, may be well passed over, for those works have for the most part, disappeared from the repertoire, and the singers, also, have passed away.

But respecting other matters, as well as those of my Instructor, the following incidents may be mentioned.

“May 5. To-day we were invited to dinner by Herr Kiekhöver, and there met Dussek and some other musicians. This was very agreeable to me, as I had long earnestly wished to hear Dussek play. Herr Kiekhöver and his wife are very kind people, and in their house good taste is combined with splendour. The conversation at table, was almost always in French. As I am not well versed in that language I could take but little part in it. But, I took all the more in the music which followed. Herr Eck, began with a quartett of his own composition, and enchanted all the listeners. Then Herr Dussek played a sonata for the piano, of his own composition, which however did not seem to please particularly. Now followed a second quartett by Herr Eck, which so delighted Herr Dussek, that he enthusiastially embraced him. In conclusion, Herr Dussek played a new quintett he had composed in Hamburgh, which was praised to the skies. However, it did not entirely please me; for, despite the numerous modulations, it became tedious towards the end, and the worst was, that it had neither form nor rhythm, and the end could quite as well have been made the beginning as not.”

At a musical party at M. Thornton’s country house, I became acquainted with Fräulein Grund, at that time the most esteemed singer of Hamburgh. My diary speaks of her with great enthusiasm. Among other remarks:

“At first, the conversation was very vapourous; for the merchants spoke of nothing but the contrary winds that prevented their ships entering the Elbe. By and by however, it became more interesting, particularly when Fräulein Grund joined in it. I had already admired her correct and polished language, and her captivating and obliging manners. But when at table, she spoke alternately French with one, and English with another, and that one gentleman informed me she spoke and wrote four languages correctly, I began to envy her, and to be ashamed that I, as a man, was so far behind this girl. She had also attained great proficiency in music, and enchanted us so much yesterday evening by her singing, that Herr Eck proposed to her to sing at his Concert, which she also promised to do. My neighbour at dinner, informed me that her father maintained his family by giving Instruction in Music, and spent a great deal upon the education of his children. In this, his eldest daughter assisted him greatly; since she not only instructed her brothers and sisters in music and languages, but also earned a considerable sum by giving lessons in the first houses in Hamburgh. I would gladly have made her acquaintance at once, but she was so surrounded by young men that I could not approach her.”

My diary mentions the following with regard to Herr Eck’s public concert in the Logensaal on the Drehbahn on the eighteenth of May:

“Herr Eck had great reason to be satisfied with the orchestra, for his concerti were admirably accompanied; not so the arias of Fräulein Grund, which were somewhat difficult for the wind instruments. At the head of this well drilled orchestra, is Massoneau, well known by his charming compositions. The appearance of this man by no means indicates his great talent; for his manner of playing and his bow-ing are so bad, that one might take him for the greatest bungler—and yet he does not direct at all badly.”

Our stay at Hamburgh lasted till June 6. Herr Dussek who was commissioned to arrange the concert at a festival with which the English living in Hamburgh were about to celebrate the 4^th of June, in honour of their king, engaged Herr Eck to perform a violin concerto. It was not until the rehearsal which took place on the evening of June 3, at nine o’clock, that Herr Eck discovered that the concert was to be given in the open air, which, until then, had never been mentioned. A tent had been erected, in which the orchestra, about one hundred strong, was disposed on a terrace-like platform. Herr Dussek first tried a Cantata, composed by him for the occasion, and which, had an uncommon effect upon me; for not only was it well written and thoroughly well studied, but from the accompainment of a large organ which had been erected in the back ground of the orchestra and “from its being executed in the silence of night, it partook of so solemn a character that I was quite charmed by it.”

After the Cantata, Herr Eck was to try his Concerto. But, he fearing that the damp night air would have an unfavourable effect upon his strings, and that his violin, after so powerful a volume of vocal sound, and hemmed in by the linen walls, would tell badly, had resolved not to play at all. He explained this; and at the same time reproached Herr Dussek warmly for not having told him at once, that the concert was to take place in the open air. Hereupon a sharp dispute followed, the consequence of which was that Eck left the place immediately with me, and we took no part in the festival itself.

We now went to Ludwigslust, where Eck wished to play at Court. But his offer was declined; and he came also to Strelitz at an unfortunate time, for the Court was absent. Nevertheless, as it was soon expected to return, and the pleasant little town with its charming park, bounded by the lake, invited us to make a longer stay; and, as Eck foresaw that in the height of summer it would be impossible to do much in Stettin, Dantzic and Konigsberg, he made up his mind to await the return of the Court. We looked out therefore for private lodgings, and made ourselves at home there for some time.

This was the most favourable period for my studies, during the whole journey. Eck, who was now at leisure, devoted himself with great zeal to the instruction of his pupil, and initiated me in all the secrets of his art. I, for my part, urged on by youthful ambition, was indefatigable. I rose very early and practised until exhaustion obliged me to cease. But, after a short rest I began again, and in this way, sometimes brought it to ten hour’s practising a day, including the time that Eck devoted to me. In a letter from Brunswick, I had been informed that those who did not wish me well had loudly expressed themselves, that I should distinguish myself as little as all the other youths whom the duke had hitherto assisted in their studies. In order to controvert this opinion, I was determined to do my utmost, and even when my zeal sometimes flagged, the thought of my first appearance in Brunswick upon my return, animated me directly to fresh exertion.

In this manner I succeeded after a short time in acquiring such dexterity and firmness in the management of my instrument, that none of the then known Concerto-music was too difficult for me. In these exertions I was supported by sound health, and a Herculean frame.

Between whiles, I composed, painted, wrote and read; and in the later hours of the afternoons we used to make excursions into the neighbourhood. A favourite amusement of the travellers was to row across the lake, and to take supper at a farm house, situated on the opposite shore. As I was already at that time an accomplished swimmer, I often undressed during these trips, and swam a while alongside the boat. The relation in which I stood to Eck, which was more that of one comrade to another than of pupil to teacher, admitted of such privileges.

At this time, I finished a violin concerto I had begun in Hamburgh, and which afterwards appeared as Op. 1 at Breitkopf & Härtel’s in Leipsic; and wrote the three violin duets Op. 3 published at Kühnel’s in the same town. While practising these duets with Eck, I became first aware that my teacher, like many violinists of the French school, was no thoroughly finished artist; for however excellently he executed his concertos, and some other compositions studied with his brother, yet he knew but little how to enter into the spirit of the works of others. A change of characters would have been very possible while playing these duets, for the scholar could have taught the master how they ought to have been executed. I became also aware from an attempt at composition made by Eck, that it was impossible for him to have composed the violin concertos and quartetts he had given out as his own productions. At a later period, also, the concertos appeared with the name of the elder Eck affixed to them, and the quartetts with that of Danzi, the leader of the Orchestra at Stutgard. Thus the four weeks, during which we waited for the arrival of the Court, passed in a very uniform way, but not fruitlessly for me, when Herr Eck fell seriously ill, and being obliged to keep his room for the first four weeks of his indisposition, I took my evening walks alone. During these walks another love affair sprang up, which is related in the diary with great earnestness and minuteness. On the eighth of July, is written:

“This afternoon, impelled by ennui, I entered a circulating library, where I selected Lafontaine’s well known novel “Quinctius Heymerom von Flaming.” I took it with me, and, leaving the town, looked for a sequestered and shady place on the shore of the lake, where I lay down and began to read. I became deeply engrossed in the story; grieved with Lissow about his Jacobine, and compared her to a lady then living, and an acquaintance of mine. Suddenly I heard footsteps near me, I looked up, and two girls stood before me; one with blue eyes, fair curls, and beautiful as an angel, the other with black hair and eyes, less beautiful indeed than her companion, but still not plain. I sprang up, bowed respectfully and gazed after them for a long time. Myrrha, Herr Eck’s dog which I had taken with me, followed them, fawning upon the fair haired one incessantly, so that it did not heed my calling. I therefore followed to bring back the dog, and if possible to make the acquaintance of the girls. The fair one came to meet me, begging pardon for having kept back the dog, and asked me to promise that I would not punish it for its disobedience. With her sweet silvery voice she might have exacted yet greater promises from me; I therefore gave the desired one with pleasure. The conversation was now commenced; I continued it, and accompanied the girls on their walk. I found that the fair one was very well educated and polite. The dark one spoke too little to allow of judging of her education. We came at length to a meadow separated from our path by a broad ditch, which although shallow, was yet too wet for ladies to cross. As they expressed a desire to walk in the meadow, I offered to carry them over. At first they would not consent, but at last they allowed themselves to be persuaded. I took the fair one first, and an incomprehensible pleasure seized me when thus carrying the beautiful girl in my arms. When I had reached the most dangerous part of the ditch with her, one of her fair curls fell upon my face. This so disturbed me, that I nearly fell with my lovely burthen into the ditch. Nevertheless, I brought her happily over. She thanked me so heartily and gazed so into my face with her large blue eyes that I almost forgot to fetch the other. We now walked on across the meadow, and, at the end, to my great disappointment, found a little bridge which led us back over the ditch. This envious bridge robbed me of the pleasure of carrying once more the sweet burthen. I escorted the girls as far as the town, and then parted from them very unwillingly.—I will immediately enquire their names and station.”

Already the next day I again met my fair one. The diary relates this with comical ingenuousness:

“This evening, urged by God knows what impulse, I took the same walk as yesterday, and again laid myself down in the very place where I had been so agreeably disturbed by the girls. I began to read; but, although I was at an interesting part, yet when I had run through some pages, I had not the least idea of the contents. I now confessed to myself that I had not come here to read, but in the hope of again meeting my new acquaintance. I pocketed my book and gazed with longing looks towards the place where I had first seen them yesterday. But; after waiting in vain for two hours, I arose, vexed, and returned towards the town. Just before reaching it, at a place where two roads meet, I encountered some cows, on their way home from the meadow, which blocked up my path and obliged me to wait. But I had not stood there long, before I saw at some distance, a female figure, dressed in white, coming towards me, and which had exactly the same fine form and high bearing of her whom I had waited for with such earnest longing. As she drew nearer, I was more convinced that it must be her, and I went to meet her. I had not deceived myself—it was her! She greeted me with her graceful friendliness, enquired how I was, and told me that her friend had taken cold the evening before, and was obliged to keep her bed. I said I was sorry to hear it, and that I feared I had been the cause of the illness of her friend, in having delayed them too long in their walk. She assured me however of the contrary, and laid all the blame upon her friend herself, who had clad herself too lightly.”

“During this time the herd had passed by, and we separated. In this second conversation I have again remarked in her so much polish of manner, and so much tender feminine delicacy that I could not but infer that she had been exceedingly well educated.—But, as yet I know not who she is; though from her conversation, I am of opinion she must belong to the bourgoisie.”

These meetings were now repeated almost every evening without prior agreement, and I felt very unhappy when on one occasion I did not find my friend. I became more and more confidential with her; spoke of my parents; of my patron who provided me with the means to accompany my eminent Instructor on his travels; mentioned my works, and plans for the future; and felt myself drawn nearer to her by her friendly interest for me. I saw in her the sum of all womanly perfections, and imagined to have met her who could make the happiness of my life. When wandering hand in hand in the little wood by the lake side, I was more than once upon the point of declaring my love to her; but a timidity I could not conquer always prevented me. Respecting her own circumstances, she was very reserved, and hence I was still ignorant as to who she was. On the 24 of July I however wrote:

“At last I have learned the name of my fair one; but the enquiries made, have cost me dear! Herr Eck, who is now almost recovered and who has already taken some short walks, sent for a hair dresser. Of him, I made enquiries. He told me her name was ***, and, that she was the daughter of a groom of the chambers to the former Duke, who had died some years ago. Her mother, with whom she lived, had a small pension. To my question as to how that could enable her to dress so elegantly? his reply was: they were probably presents from Herr von *** who was very fond of her and visited her frequently. On hearing this, my agony was so great, that I nearly let fall my violin,—and scarcely had the courage to ask, whether her virtue was doubtfully spoken of. He assured me nevertheless to the contrary, and was of opinion, that Herr von ***, who had only come of age two months ago, had the intention of marrying her. He was now travelling, and would return in some weeks. I had made the acquaintance of this Herr von *** at the Inn where we dined, before his departure, and must admit that he seemed to me the most well bred young nobleman we met there. The less therefore do I understand his making her presents and she accepting them; for she can hardly permit herself to hope that he will marry her. And, if so, how as a prudent girl, could she venture during his absence to take lonely walks with a young man, and sit with him in the evening before the door of the house? The affair is a riddle to me, and I am doubtful whether I shall go to her this evening or not.”

The girl’s character however did not long remain a riddle to me; for scarcely had Eck, who now again shared the evening walks, made her acquaintance, than she received his attentions in a much more friendly and forward manner than she had done mine. Eck, gallant and liberal, arranged excursion-parties to please her, into the neighbourhood; to Rheinsberg, Hohenzirze, and other places. For this, she rewarded him with the most marked attention, and had eyes for him only. I felt deeply wounded; the diary contains passionate outbursts of jealousy. Fortunately they were confined to writing, and the good understanding with my Instructor remained unshaken. The contempt I now felt for the girl helped me to conquer my passion, and I turned to my studies with renewed zeal. My diary states:

“I never remark the progress I have made in playing, more than when, from time to time, I take up some old theme and remember how I used to execute it. To-day for instance I took the Concerto I had studied in Hamburgh and found, that I now executed with the greatest ease those passages which I then could not play without a break.”

My Instructor also, did not leave me without encouragement; and when, on the 16 of August, I had played my new Concerto; to my great delight, Herr Eck said: “If every three months you progress as you have done in these, you will return to Brunswick a perfect virtuoso.”

Two days later, Aug. 18., I remained almost the whole day at home, and composed a new Adagio to my Concerto; for although I had already written three, yet none of them seemed to suit well to the other parts.

As evincing my youthful pride as a Composer, the following may here be cited:

“I was told of a popular festival which was to be arranged at Hohenzirze, August 27. the birthday of the hereditary Prince. To this festival the peasants of the neighbouring villages are invited to a dance and supper. There is also to be dancing at the castle. In answer to my question, as to where so many musicians would be found, I learned that the Janitscharen-music would play for the peasants, and the Orchestra—imagine my astonishment—for the dancing at Court! I would not believe it at first, until repeated assurances of it were made to me. But, I asked: how is it possible, that the Duke can require such a thing from the members of his Orchestra, and that they have so little feeling of honour and artistic pride as not to refuse it? The reply was: the Duke does not consider it improper for his Orchestra to play to dancers, and the majority of the members dare not disobey his commands, for if discharged from here, poor bunglers as they are, they would find it difficult to obtain places in other orchestras.”

As after the end of my unhappy love affair, my residence in Strelitz had become unbearable, I longed greatly for our departure. This however, was still delayed, for the doctor could not pronounce Herr Eck fully restored until the end of September. The unpleasantness of my position was still further heightened by the friend of my faithless one, whom at our first meeting I had named the “dark one”, turning her affection most unmistakeably towards me; an affection, which, although the girl was very pretty, I could not return. I withdrew myself from their society as much as possible; but, out of regard to my Instructor, I could not entirely refuse to share in the pleasure parties and excursions which he constantly arranged; and at these I could not avoid being the escort of the dark beauty. There are naive complaints in my diary of the embarrassments which her tenderness caused me, and more than once I wished the moment of our departure to arrive, which would free me from such trials.

On the 27^th Sept., came at length the moment, when we were to say farewell to our fair ones. Sophy (the dark one) had affected, or perhaps really felt, an uncommon sadness for the last three days. To-day she spoke not a word, only sighed sometimes, and, when the others in the room did not observe it, threw herself passionately upon my neck. About eight o’clock in the evening, Herr Eck and Miss *** left the room. Now for the first time the real outbreak of her tenderness took place; for after she had also sent away her brothers and sisters, she hardly let me out of her arms. I was obliged to bear with it until ten o’clock; then we took leave. The poor girl shed so many tears, that I was ashamed of my own dry eyes, and, in order not to appear quite heartless, I kissed her warmly. Sophy accompanied me to the door of the house, and pressed a paper into my hand, with the request that I would keep it as a remembrance. I hastened home, opened it, and found a letter with a gold ring containing some hair. The letter ran as follows: “Noble friend, pardon a girl whose importunity must certainly have been obvious to you. I knew that sometimes I did more than was befitting my sex. But God knows, when in your company, which was so dear to me, I could not control myself. Now also I force upon you a small token, trifling indeed, but given with the most openhearted impulse. My only wish and prayer is that you will wear it, and remember me. Ah! could this paper but tell you how highly I value having made your acquaintance, and how deeply I regret your going so far away from us! I must conclude, and in the firm hope of seeing you, my best friend, once more, I already rejoice at the day which will restore you to us again. Farewell, and may you live as well and happily as is the wish of your friend Sophy ***”

This unmerited and tender inclination may not have remained without thankful acknowledgement; for the resolution to answer the letter in a most friendly manner from Stettin, is expressed in the diary. But there is nothing mentioned respecting the execution of that resolve.

We went to Danzic, via Stettin, arriving there October 2. As Eck had to deliver many letters of introduction, and had to arrange a Concert; the lessons, which till now had been given regularly, came rather to a standstill. Meanwhile, I thought, “that I made progress by only hearing Herr Eck practise.” We were constantly invited out to dinner, and for the evening; among other invitations was one to the country seat of Herr Saurmann, where from a hill behind the house, we could overlook the Baltic and a great part of the town. The view of the sea and the vessels upon it made an indiscribable impression upon me. As the day was somewhat overcast, the ships appeared to hang in the clouds, and to move slowly along with them. I could with difficulty tear myself away from the magnificent sight.

At another dinner, in Mr. Simpson’s garden, I had the honour to sit beside the hostess. She induced me to relate to her many things of my early life, namely: how I had been at first destined for the study of medecine, and then, from a passionate inclination for music, had been led to devote myself entirely to the art. She listened to me with a benevolent interest, but at the end wounded my feelings by asking whether I should not have done better to follow the profession of my father. Wholly penetrated with the dignity of my artistic career, I replied angrily: “As high as the soul is above the body, so high is he who devotes himself to the ennobling of the mind, above him who only attends to the mortal frame.”

Almost everytime that an opera was given, I went to the theatre, and did not fail to note down my remarks upon the performance, in which singers, chorus and orchestra were sharply handled.

To my great joy, Ariadne in Naxos, the celebrated melodrama of Brade, which I did not yet know, was also given. But it offended my taste, that in the comedy which followed, “The peasants and lawyers”, Theseus appeared again in the character of a lawyer, and Ariadne as a humble peasant girl. “The music enchanted me although it was very badly performed. But how could it be otherwise, the score having only arrived in the morning from Königsberg, and the first and only rehearsal having been held at noon! Madame Bochmann, who played Ariadne, declaimed indeed very well, but was too ugly for the part.” A young Englishman, who sat next to me, said, that, he did not think Theseus to blame for forsaking such an Ariadne. And upon this, he related to me the following anecdote. At an amateur theatre in England, Ariadne was also given. A rather elderly and anything but beautiful lady played the part of Ariadne so excellently, that the audience broke out into applause at the end of the piece. She modestly disclaimed the applause, saying: “In order to represent Ariadne well, it was necessary to be both young and handsome.” A young man, who wished to say something clever to her, cried out: “O, Madam, you prove the contrary!”

Herr Eck’s concert on October 16. at the Theatre, went off brillantly. As I knew the pieces that my Instructor performed, very accurately, I undertook to lead them on the first violin. The musicians, who soon discovered how firm the young Conductor was, followed me willingly, thereby rendering the performance of the Solo player much easier; which he also thankfully acknowledged. Besides the three pieces played by Herr Eck, there was also a Symphony by Haydn, an Overture by Mozart, a pianoforte Concerto by Danzi, played by Herr Reichel, and two Arias of Cimarosa and Mozart sung by Fräulein Wotruba and Herr Ciliax. “The success of Herr Eck’s performances was great, and the applause enthusiastic and reiterated. I also, had never before heard him play so well in public.”

On the 20^th Oct. we went on to Königsberg and remained there till Nov. 18. Eck gave two concerts which were very well attended. Being introduced into many of the first houses by letters of introduction, we were constantly invited to dinner as well as to musical parties. In the house of the “Surgeon-General” Gerlach, I often practised music with Fräulein Gerlach, who was a thoroughly cultivated dilettante, and an excellent pianiste; and who also sang my new songs. Whether these had any artistic worth is now not to be ascertained, for they have been lost. I sometimes played quartetts with two Messrs. Friedländer. It was not however these quartett parties alone that attracted me to their house; Fräul. Rebecca Oppenheim, the younger sister of Madame Friedländer, had again inflamed my too susceptible heart. She was a Jewess, and the society that frequented the house consisted almost entirely of Jews only; but they were all polite and educated people. The day on which I took leave, I found Madame Friedländer and Fräul. Rebecca alone. The latter was overflowing with wit and humour, and we never ceased laughing, and jesting, although this but ill suited the purport of my visit. “It is fortunate,” says my diary, “that we leave to-morrow, for Rebecca is a dangerous girl! He who loves his freedom and his peace must fly from her, and the sooner the better.”

Before Herr Eck gave his first concert, the family Pixis arrived at Königsberg upon their return from St. Petersburgh. I immediately renewed our acquaintance. The eldest brother had in the mean time grown very tall, and his soprano voice had changed to a deep bass. But he still dressed “à l’enfant with a turn-down collar and no necktie”. They were much dissatisfied with their journey to Russia, and the father even affirmed that he was a thousand rubles out of pocket during their stay in St. Petersburgh, although he had taken with him two hundred letters of introduction.

We met at a musical party at Count Calnheim’s, where the youngest played first of all some variations on the piano with great execution and taste. The eldest then played a quartett by Krommer. But neither the composition, nor his playing pleased me. “His tones”, says a remark in my diary, “are without power, and his execution without expression. Added to this, he handled his bow so badly, that, if he does not alter this, he will never become a perfect virtuoso. He holds the bow a hand’s breadth from the nut, and raises the right arm much too high. In this manner, all strength fails him in the stroke, and the shades of piano and forte vanish altogether in his playing.” After him, Herr Eck also played a quartett by Krommer. “But Heavens! what a difference was there! The transitions from forte to piano in his tones, the clearness of the passages, the tasteful fioriture by which he knew how to enhance the most common place composition, lent an irresistable charm to his playing. He gained also, the most undivided applause. Pixis then played a quartett by Tietz, the celebrated crazy violinist of St. Petersburgh, but had just as little success with it as with his former one. At last, he begged Herr Eck to play a duet by Viotti with him, in order that he might be able to say that he had played with all the great violinists of the day; for Viotti, Rode, Kreutzer, Iwanovichi, Tietz, Durand and others, had all done him that honour. In this request all the company joined, and Herr Eck was obliged to consent. Pixis played this duet best of all, although he did not bring out one of the passages as well as Herr Eck, who was not at all prepared for it.”

In the Concert also, which the brothers gave, the eldest had no success, “the passages were flat and without expression: he even played very false, and at times scraped so much as to inflict pain on the ears of the audience.... According to my idea, three years ago when I heard him for the first time in Brunswick, he played the easy Concertos of Iwanovichi and others, better than the difficult ones with which he now came forward.” Yes, I even doubted whether he ever could become a great violinist, “unless he soon got a good master, who, of all things, could give him a good style of bow-ing.”

Upon these doubtless too severe criticisms my Instructor who was a very stern judge, may certainly have had some influence. When, ten years later, I again met Pixis in Vienna, he had become a distinguished virtuoso, and as Professor at the Conservatory in Prague, he proved himself also an able teacher of the violin.

In Königsberg, I began again to paint. I made the acquaintance of a miniature painter, named Seidel, who gave me some lessons, and sat to me. The picture was very like. My diary speaks also of composing. From a remark about the polishing down of a Concerto, it is evident that at that time, I did not understand how to work of a piece; in which I afterwards succeeded so well, that, the rough draught, seldom suffered even from slight changes, and, once written in score, it was never altered afterwards.

For our journey to Memel, “we chose the road along the shore, being twelve miles (German) shorter than that across the country. In winter also, when the sand is hard frozen, it is better to drive on than the latter. Three miles from Königsberg, the road runs close to the sea, and does not leave it until you reach Memel. We travelled the whole night, and suffered much from the cold and cutting sea air. Between the fourth and fifth station we had the misfortune to have a wheel come off. We were now obliged to quit the carriage, to right it by our united strength, and secure the wheel temporarily with ropes. All this may have lasted a full half hour, and I feared I had got my fingers frostbitten; but this I happily found to be groundless. At nine o’clock we reached Memel, but were obliged to wait three whole hours until we could be carried across the harbour, because the boatmen had first to be collected from all parts of the town. Four miles farther we reached the frontiers.”

We arrived at Mittau with a large addition to our number; for Myrrha, without our remarking it, had brought forth nine pups, six living and three dead. “All, excepting two, were taken away from the poor mother.”

In the families to whom Herr Eck was recommended, we found the most hospitable welcome. We were invited to dinners, suppers, musical parties and balls; and everything was done to render our stay agreeable. In the house of a “Collegiate-Assessor”, von Berner, I played for the first time in the place and in the presence of my teacher. It happened thus; Herr Eck, after having played some quartetts with great applause, was solicited to accompany a young Pianiste of 16 years of age, a Miss Brandt, who was possessed of a surprising skill, in a Sonata of Beethoven’s; but he excused himself on the plea of great fatigue. As I well knew that Eck did not dare to play any piece at sight, that he did not know, I offered to play in his stead. It is true, the Sonata was wholly unknown to me, but I trusted to my readiness in reading. I was successful; and the young Artist, in whom probably but little confidence had been felt, was overwhelmed with praise.

At the subsequent musical parties, I was now always solicited to play something; and I remember that Herr von Berner on my taking leave of him, said to me with fatherly kindness: “My young friend, you are on the right road—only keep in it! Herr Eck as a Virtuoso is certainly still above you; but you are a much better musician than he is.”

In the Governor’s house I heard a Violinist of the name of Sogeneff, who at that time was very celebrated in Russia, and a serf of Prince Subow. “He played variations of his own composition, which were immensely difficult. The composition pleased me right well, but his play, although skilful, was very raw, and offensive to the ear. Herr Eck played immediately after him, so that the difference between the two Players was very distinctly perceptible. The play of the Russian, was wild and without transition from forte to piano; that of Herr Eck firm, powerful, and still, always harmonious. We heard there, also, some Russian military singers. They were six private soldiers, some of whom sang soprano parts. They shrieked fearfully, so much so that one was almost obliged to stop ones ears. They are practised in singing by a non commissioned Officer, cane in hand. In some songs they accompanied themselves on sort of Schalmey of so piercing a tone, that I expected the ladies would have fainted away. The Melodies of the songs were not bad, but accompanied by a great deal of false harmonics.”

At a club in the house in which we lived, I was invited to a card party “with three Excellencies, but was obliged to pay dearly for the great honour, for I lost more than three thalers in a few hours.”

Our departure for Riga was put off until December the second, on account of Herr Eck’s recurring indisposition. I spent my evenings at the houses of Herr von Berner and von Korf, in turn, and constantly practised with Fräulein Brandt. We played through the whole store of sonatas with violin accompaniment, and many of the masterpieces of Mozart and Beethoven were thus brought under my notice for the first time. After supper we chatted for an hour, or Frau von Korf played at chess with me, a game which from my childhood, I had been passionately fond of.

Herr von Berner, who had become attached to me, invited me to pass some months with him in the country, upon my return from Petersburgh; and then to give some Concerts about midsummer, a season in which all the Courland nobility are assembled at Mitau. It gave me great satisfaction to hear that I was considered far enough advanced to appear in public as a virtuoso. I gladly consented.

It is odd that there is nothing mentioned in my diary about the children of Herr Berner; for one of his daughters who afterwards became a pupil of Rode, and distinguished herself as a violin player, must already then have been very nearly grown up.

At last the hour of our departure came, and with a moved and grateful heart I took leave of the families who had so kindly welcomed me.

In Riga, I found a letter from Brunswick, that gave me much pleasure. I had asked permission of the Duke to dedicate my new Concerto, as my first published work, to him; and the answer written by the Lord Chamberlain von Münchhausen, brought the consent to my request. Full of impatience to see my work appear, I begged Herr Eck to write to Breitkopf & Härtel in Leipsic, with whom he was in correspondance, to propose the publishing of the concerto. The reply soon arrived, but was very discouraging to me.

For the consolation of the young Composer who can find no publisher for his first work, the conditions upon which the above named firm consented to undertake its publication, may be mentioned. I had myself given up all claim to payment, and only stipulated for some free copies. The firm required however that I should buy one hundred copies at half the selling-price! At first my youthful Artist-pride rebelled against such dishonourable conditions, as I deemed them. But the wish to see the publication of the concerto so expedited, that, upon our return to Brunswick, I might be able to present the Duke with a printed copy; joined to the hope that he would make me a present, assisted me to conquer my sensitiveness, and agree to the conditions. The concerto was finished in time, and when I returned, was lying ready at a Music-seller’s in Brunswick; but the package was not delivered to me before I had paid for the hundred copies.

In Riga, Herr Eck had a quarrel with the Society of Musical Dilettanti there. Being in possession of the Concert room; they required from him, as from all foreign artists, that he should first perform in their concert, for which they were ready to give him up the room and orchestra, for his own concert afterwards. Herr Eck refused to comply with these conditions and would rather give up his own concert altogether. This made the company more compliant; and they declared themselves satisfied, if he would agree to play in no other concert than theirs, after his own. He consented to this, on the condition that they would be silent about it beforehand: because he had been told that the subscribers to the dilettanti concerts would be unwilling to pay for an extra-concert, if they were sure of hearing the foreign Artist in the former. Silence, however, was not kept, and the consequence was that Herr Eck’s concert was badly attended. Angry at this, he now demanded the sum of fifty ducats for his appearance in their concert, as a remuneration for the loss which their gossiping had caused him. The gentlemen directors, feeling in some degree that they had been wrong; after long debating, agreed to pay thirty ducats. Herr Eck, however, stood by his first demand. The gentlemen now threatened to make the police compel him to appear; and he was actually summoned before the Chief of the police. But he succeeded in winning him over to his cause, and the gentlemen directors were dismissed, with their charge. At last, upon the day of the concert, after the bills parading forth the name of Herr Eck, had been posted up at the corners of the streets, they vouchsafed to grant the required demand; but they were not a little surprised at the declaration of Herr Eck, that, now, after having been summoned before the police he would not play at all, not even for double the sum demanded. All their threatning and storming was of no avail; they were obliged to give their concert without him. “I was there,” says the diary, “and much enjoyed the fermentation that prevailed among the dilettanti. Nothing but Herr Eck and his refusal were spoken of; but nobody said one single word in his favour; all were too much annoyed at their disappointed expectations. The concert went off badly. A virtuoso on the flute, from Stockholm, who first played an old fashioned concerto by Devienne in place of Herr Eck, pleased as little as a dilettante from St. Petersburgh, who executed a concerto for the piano by Mozart, in a most schoolboy-like manner.”

Eck, had however won the good will of the Director of the police, by having offered to give a concert for the benefit of the Nikolai Asylum for the poor. Meirer, the Director of the Theatre, gave the house gratis, and Messeurs Arnold and Ohmann, as well as the ladies Werther and Bauser gave their vocal services. The Musical Society did all they could to put a stop to it; but in vain. “Immediately upon his appearance Herr Eck was received with the liveliest applause, which was still more increased after he had played. The proceeds, after deducting the expenses, amounted to more than a hundred ducats, which were handed over to the cashier of the Asylum; but a gift of one hundred ducats from the nobility present was also made to Herr Eck, and the next morning, fifty more followed from several rich merchants, who did not wish to be behindhand in generosity.”

Among the many invitations, one is also mentioned in the diary, to the house of the rich sugar baker Klein, who “kept no less than three tutors for his children”—a German, a Frenchman and a Russian.

On the seventeenth of December we quitted Riga. In Narwa the governor, a great lover of music, who had seen from the Paderoschna, which we were obliged to deliver up at the gate of the town, to be examined, what a celebrated Artist was passing through, invited us immediately for the evening. “Our excuse, that we could not appear in our travelling clothes, was not accepted. The governor sent his state carriage, and we were carried off half by force. The embarrassment at finding ourselves all at once in the midst of a brilliant society, clad in travelling costume, very soon wore off after the friendly welcome and obliging politeness of those present, and we passed a pleasant evening. At one o’clock when the party broke up, we found our carriage with post-horses ready before the door, and set out immediately.

But, between Narwa and St. Petersburgh, one misfortune after the other occured to us. Two stations on this side of St. Petersburgh, we were persuaded to place our carriage upon a sledge. But hardly had we driven half an hour in it, when the cords with which it was fastened, broke, and we could get on no farther. The postillion was obliged to get some peasants from the neighbouring village to help us. After the job was done, they made us understand by signs that we were to pay them five rubles. Very angry at this shameful demand, we refused to give so much, but as they shewed the intention of cutting the cords with which they had bound the wheels, with their axes; and as we saw that we could not contend against the crowd of wild looking fellows who by degrees had surrounded our carriage, we were obliged to comply with the demand.

“After a halt of more than an hour we were at last enabled to proceed; but it was not long before we stuck fast in the snow, and it was only by the help of several peasants whom we called to assist us, that we were able to extricate ourselves. We now found that in the deep snow, the sledge hindered more than it served us, and we had the carriage taken off. After this was done, and paid for, we were enabled to proceed; but again seven times did we stick fast, so that no less than sixteen hours were necessary to accomplish this post of three miles. As we came nearer to St. Petersburgh we found the roads better, and were also driven faster. At last, Wednesday the 22. at nine in the evening, we arrived; after being six days and five nights upon the road. The last part of the journey from Narwa to St. Petersburgh is dreadfully uniform and tiresome. The perfectly straight road cut through the fir forests, with the party coloured Werst-stones, each exactly like the other, are enough to weary the most patient! Seldom only does the endless forest open, to disclose a few buildings, or a miserable village. The houses, or rather the huts of these villages, have for the most part, one room only, with a window a foot square. In this room, men and animals live together quite peaceably. The walls consist of unhewn beams laid upon each-other, the crevices being filled up with moss. It cannot certainly be very warm in these holes; but the inhabitants do not seem to care for that; for I saw children and grown up people running about in their shirts, and barefoot in the snow. The poorer and more wretched the objects appear during the journey, the more surprising is the magnificent St. Petersburgh and its palaces..... We descended at the Hôtel de Londres, and immediately engaged a guide, without whom one cannot be here even for one day; for as soon as the stranger is shown his room, not a soul troubles himself about him any farther.”

In St. Petersburgh, I was at first quite left to myself. This would therefore have been the most favorable opportunity for me to look round that splendid city. But the extreme cold, which already exceeded twenty degrees, would not permit of this. I therefore continued to work with my usual diligence, and indeed with increased zeal, for the period of Herr Eck’s instruction was more than half elapsed.—Through a member of the Imperial orchestra we were introduced into the “Citizen Club,” and there made the acquaintance of almost all the celebrated artistes and scholars then in St. Petersburgh. Among others, my diary mentions Clementi, his pupil Field, the violinist Hartmann, the first violin of the Imperial orchestra, Remi, also a member of the orchestra, Leveque, the son of the leader in Hanover, and director of an orchestra of serfs belonging the senator Teplow, Bärwald from Stockholm, the hornist Bornaus, and others.

Clementi, “a man in his best years, of an extremely lively disposition, and very engaging manners,” liked much to converse with me “(in French, which from my great practice in St. Petersburgh I soon spoke pretty fluently)” and often invited me after dinner to play at billiards. In the evening, I sometimes accompanied him to his large pianoforte warehouse, where Field was often obliged to play for hours, to display the instruments to the best advantage to the purchasers. The diary speaks with great satisfaction of the technical perfection and the “dreamy melancholy” of that young artist’s execution. I have still in recollection the figure of the pale, overgrown youth, whom I have never since seen. When Field, who had outgrown his clothes, placed himself at the piano, stretched out his arms over the keyboard, so that the sleeves shrunk up nearly to his elbows, his whole figure appeared awkward and stiff in the highest degree; but as soon as his touching instrumentation began, everything else was forgotten, and one became all ear. Unhappily, I could not express my emotion and thankfulness to the young man otherwise than by a silent pressure of the hand, for he spoke no other language, but his mother tongue.

Even at that time, many anecdotes of the remarkable avarice of the rich Clementi were related, which had greatly increased in latter years when I again met him in London. It was generally reported that Field was kept on very short allowance by his master, and was obliged to pay for the good fortune of having his instruction, with many privations. I myself experienced a little sample of Clementi’s true Italian parsimony, for one day I found teacher and pupil with up turned sleeves, engaged at the washtub, washing their stockings and other linen. They did not suffer themselves to be disturbed, and Clementi advised me to do the same, as washing in St. Petersburgh was not only very expensive, but the linen suffered greatly from the method used in washing it.

Of all the acquaintances I made in the Citizen’s Club, none were dearer to me than my young friend Remi. The diary speaks of him immediately after our first meeting, as a “polite and charming young Frenchman.” The same enthusiasm for art, the same studies and the same inclinations bound us yet closer to each-other. We met every day at dinner at the Citizen’s Club, when I was not invited out with my Instructor; and when in the evening there was no Opera or Concert in which Remi was engaged, we played duets, of which Remi possessed a great collection, till late in the night. There were many evenings in that cold winter on which the Theatre was closed; for by an ukas of the benevolent Emperor Alexander, all public amusements were forbidden when the cold should exceed seventeen degrees, in order that the coachmen and servants might not be exposed to the danger of being frozen to death. And during that winter, the cold often remained at above seventeen degrees for a fortnight together. That was a dull, monotonous time for foreigners. But foreign artistes, were still worse off, for they were unable to give their concerts. When the cold fell below seventeen degrees there were notices innumerable; but they were often obliged to be recalled on the following day. Herr Eck’s public concert was also postponed till March 6. O. S. after having been announced more than once. In the mean time however, he played twice at Court at the private Concerts of the Empress, and pleased so much, particularly the second time, that the Empress had him engaged as solo player in the Imperial Orchestra at a salary of 3500 rubles.

The less frequently operas and concerts took place in the cold months of January and February, the more diligently I attended them, in order to become more nearly acquainted with the native and foreign talent. I also saw and heard Tietz the celebrated crazy violin player. He was a man of about forty years of age, with a ruddy complexion, and pleasing exterior. His appearance in no wise showed his insanity. We therefore were the more astonished when he addressed every one with the question, “My most gracious monarch, how are you?” He then related to us a long affair in which was but little evidence of sanity; complained bitterly about a malicious sorcerer, who, jealous of his violin playing had so bewitched the middle finger of his left hand that he could no longer play; but at last expressed the hope that he would still be able to conquer the spell—and so forth. On taking leave of us he fell upon his knees before Herr Eck, kissed his hand, before the latter could prevent it, and said, “My most gracious Monarch, I must do homage to thee and thine art, upon my knees!”

Four months later, in the beginning of May 1803, all St. Petersburgh rang with the sudden news that Tietz, whom the Russians in their blind patriotism regarded as the first violinist in the world, and who on account of his madness had not played for six months, had suddenly commenced again. Leveque related the nearer particulars to me. Tietz had been invited to a musical party at the Senator Teplow’s, but had refused to play in spite of all entreaty; Herr Teplow, much annoyed, sent away the orchestra saying, “Then I also will never again hear music!” This made so deep an impression upon Tietz that he said, “most gracious Monarch, have the orchestra recalled; I will play a symphony to their accompaniment.” This took place, and having once began, he played quartets until two o’clock in the morning. The next day the amateurs assembled in his house and he played again. This gave me the hope of hearing him also, and on that account I hastened to him on May the second (20. April). Many amateurs were once more assembled there, who again beseiged him with requests to play; this time however in vain. He was not to be moved, and I afterwards heard that some one had been of the party whom he did not like.

On the eighteenth of May I took my new duet and my violin, and went again to Herr Tietz, whom I this time found alone. It did not require much to persuade him to play the duet; but he would not take the primo. We had hardly ended, when Herr Hirschfeld, hornist in the Imperial orchestra, and others with whom I was unacquainted, came in. Herr Tietz begged me to repeat the duet, and it appeared to please not him alone, but also the others. Herr Tietz now opened a quartet by Haydn, and required me to take the first violin. He himself took the violoncello part. As the quartet was known to me, I did not refuse. It was pretty well executed, and Herr Tietz, as well as the others present, overwhelmed me with praises. Tietz played the secondo of my duet, which is not easy, without faltering and perfectly clean, executing the cantabile passages with taste and feeling. The passages which, according to the old method, he played with rebounding bow, pleased me less.

On the 23^rd May, we met Tietz at the weekly evening concert of the Senator Teplow, where a pianiste named Madame Meier appeared, and played a piano concerto of her own composition, which was not bad. Then Eck and I followed with a concerto of his brother’s, which we had been closely practising for the previous fortnight. At the beginning, I was nervous, and played the first solo not so well as at home; but it soon went on better, particularly in the last parts.

Herr Tietz now produced a concerto of his own composition, the Allegro and Rondo of which he played twice, possibly because the first time did not please him. As he never had practised since his madness, it may be readily conceived that technical firmness was wanting in his play. The difficult passages also, were executed very much better the second time. Into all the three parts, he introduced cadences in the old style, improvising them; they were in themselves very pretty, but sounded quite different the second time.

The diary closes with the remark, “though Tietz indeed is not a great violinist, much less the greatest in the world as his admirers maintain, he is undoubtedly a musical genius as his compositions prove.”

The best violinist then in St. Petersburgh was, without doubt, Fränzel junior. He had just come from Moscow where he had been engaged for six concerts at three thousand rubles. His attitude in playing displeased me. The diary says:

“He holds the violin still in the old manner, on the right side of the tail piece, and must therefore play with his head bent...... To this must be added that, he raised the right arm very high, and has the bad habit of elevating his eyebrows at the expressive passages. If this is not unpleasant to the majority of the listeners it is still very disagreeable for a violinist to see...... His playing is pure and clean. In the Adagio parts, he executes many runs, shakes, and other fioriture, with a rare clearness and delicacy. As soon however as he played loud, his tone is rough and unpleasant, because he draws his bow too slowly and too near to the bridge, and leans it too much to one side. He executed the passages clearly and purely, but always with the middle of the bow, and consequently without distinction of piano and forte.”

I heard another celebrated violinist, Herr Bärwald, afterwards leader in Stockholm. As he came forward to play the concerto of Viotti (A-sharp) he was already applauded, before he had sounded a note.

This, together with his good bearing and his excellent manner of managing his bow, raised my expectation very high, and it was with the greatest impatience that I awaited the end of the Tutti. But how was I disappointed on hearing the solo! His playing was indeed clean and accomplished, but still so sleeply and monotonous, the passages so flat and drawn out, that I would have much preferred the false but still fiery playing of Pixis. He introduced, and played an Adagio of his father’s composition, something better, and thus somewhat reconciled me again. After him, one Herr Palzow, a man celebrated for his theoretical knowledge, played a concerto of his own composition, on a piano with a flute attachment. Well and scientifically as the concerto was worked out, it pleased neither me nor the others listeners, on account of its length and monotony. The tones also of the strings and of the flute had together a very bad effect.

I also wrote my opinion of Fodor, the then celebrated violinist and composer. I heard him in the concert of the “Nobility’s, or Musical club,” where however everything was very unmusical; for the elite assembled there, “not to listen, but to chat and walk about in the saloon.” At first a fine symphony by Romberg, (C-sharp) was extremely well executed. Then Signor Pasco, first tenorist of the Italian theatre, sang an aria so charmingly, tastefully and tenderly, that it actually became somewhat more quiet in the saloon. Herr Fodor now followed with a concerto of his own composition, which however appeared to me worse than those I already knew. His playing also did not please me. He played indeed in a pure and rather accomplished manner, but without warmth and taste. In the passages he also played with rebounding bow, which soon became unbearable. Madame Canavassi, prima donna of the Italian opera who before had not pleased me on the stage, sung this time so beautifully, that I must confess to having wronged her.

During Lent, the Greek church allowing no theatrical representations, the Intendancy of the Court theatre gave two grand concerts weekly in the Steiner theatre, in which, only virtuosi of the Imperial orchestra performed, among whom Herr Eck was now reckoned. The best whom I had the opportunity of hearing there were the violinist Hartmann, Jerchow and Remi, the violinist Delphino, the hautboyist Scherwenka, and the hornist Hirschfeld.

In the first concert, the orchestra consisted of thirty six violins, twenty bass and double set wind instruments. Besides these the choruses were supported by forty hornists from the Imperial orchestra, each of whom had only one single note to blow. They served in place of an organ, and gave the chorus, the notes of which were divided among them, great firmness and strength. In several short soli, their effect was ravishing. Before the orchestra, were the Court singers, men and boys, about fifty in number, all in red uniform embroidered with gold. After the first part of Sarti’s oratorio, Remi played a violin concerto by Alday with much success. “After the concert as we drove home, he asked me for my opinion of his playing. As truth alone should be spoken between friends I did not withold from him that: clean and pure as his playing was, I had yet missed the shades of forte and piano, expression in the cantabile, and a sufficiency of vigour in the passages. He thanked me for my candour and declared that he had been particularly embarrassed that day, at having to appear in Herr Eck’s place, the latter having previously been advertised for this concerto.”—After the second part of the oratorio, Signor Delphino played a violin concerto. As his playing was much extolled I had expected more from him. “He played without taste, and not once perfectly clean.”

The Italian singers appeared in the second concert, and the French in the third. Among the first, Signor Pasco and Madame Canavassi, already mentioned, distinguished themselves. Among the French there were only two, M. St. Leon and the celebrated Phyllis Andrieux, who could lay claim to be called singers; they had charmed all Petersburgh by their correct and pleasing singing, their skilful and graceful acting, and their personal beauty. There was especially a Polonaise with which the latter fascinated everybody, and which was always encored. The beginning of it is found in my diary as follows:

Between the first and second part of this concert, the Imperial hornists executed an ouverture by Gluck, and with a rapidity and exactness which would have been difficult for stringed instruments, how much the more so then for hornists, each of whom blew only one tone! It is hardly to be believed that they performed the most rapid passages with the greatest precision, and I could not have conceived it possible, had I not heard it with my own ears. But as may be imagined, the Adagio of the ouverture made a greater effect than the Allegro; for it always remains somewhat unnatural to execute such quick passages with these living organ pipes, and one could not help thinking of the thrashings which must have been inflicted.

These concerts, with the exception of one in which Herr Eck played and Mademoiselle Phyllis sang, were but little frequented; for which reason the managers soon discontinued them.

On the other hand a performance of Haydn’s “Seasons” which was given for the benefit of a widow’s fund, (also during Lent,) was very well attended. Baron Rall, one of the projectors invited me also to take part. I therefore shared in all the orchestra rehearsals, and in these, as well as in the performance, played with M. Leveque, the same part. The orchestra was larger than any I had yet heard. It consisted of seventy violins, thirty bass, and double set wind instruments. The whole therefore was something very grand, and my diary mentions it with delight; as also of the work itself, which I then heard for the first time, although I estimated the “Creation” yet higher!

My playing thus with Leveque, had increased our friendship, and I learned from him that, during the summer he intended to visit his parents in Hanover. We therefore agreed to make the voyage to Lübeck in the same vessel.

As my new friend now visited me oftener, I played my new violin concerto to him, and expressed my wish, to hear it with the orchestra before I sent it to the publisher. Leveque immediately offered to study it with his orchestra, took the parts with him, and invited me to a rehearsal some days later.

“I was in great agitation now that I was about to hear my own composition with full orchestra for the first time. The Tutti were well studied, and from this I could calculate how, in every part, the effect I intended would be brought out. The most of them satisfied me, some even surpassed my expectation...... But I was the less pleased with my own play. All my attention being fixed on the accompaniment, I played much worse than I did at home. I therefore begged permission of Mr. Leveque to try the concerto once more at the end of eight or ten days, when I should have received the copy; this permission he readily granted.”

The following appears later: “I got the copy of my concerto yesterday, for which I was obliged to pay eight silver rubles. I could have had six concertos copied for a like sum in Germany.”

The work was again tried from the new-copied parts. I was much calmer than the first time, and played therefore much better. It was also better accompanied than before, and therefore more effective. Leveque declared himself very well satisfied. “I therefore hastened home, packed up my concerto and took it, together with a letter, to the post. I there heard to my great amazement, that there was no parcel’s post in Russia by which one can send things out of the country, and that if I would send it as a letter I should have to pay at least fifty rubles.” I therefore took it back in order to send it by sea by the next opportunity.

I have mentioned the Imperial hornband, each member of which had only one note to play. On the twelfth of January, the Russian Newyear, upon which day the Emperor, as usual, gave a grand masquerade in the Winterpalace, for which twelve thousand tickets were issued, I found the said band joined with the usual Ball-orchestra, and I heard a music such as till then I had no idea of. “The accompaniment of this hornband gave a fullness and harmony to the orchestra such as I have never heard. Several Horn-Soli, produced a most enchanting effect. It was long before I could tear myself away from this place.”

In another saloon opposite the Throne-room, the Imperial family, surrounded by the Court, were dancing. But as this part of the saloon was cut off from the rest by a wall of gigantic grenadiers with high bearskin caps, and as I, inspite of my fair allowance of inches, could not even peep over the shoulders of these giants, I was unable to see much of the Imperial state, and of the diamonds of the ladies. I therefore passed on, and entered the third and most beautiful of the saloons. It is entirely of polished marbles, the walls white, the pillars violet, and the window frames blue. The lights mirrored themselves a thousandfold in the polished stone. The whole building was lighted by twenty thousand wax tapers.

“After wandering several times through the apartments, and having gazed at all the magnificence, I tried to find Herr Eck again, he having been separated from me in the beginning of the evening. Among the twelve thousand present this was however a vain attempt. I now guessed that he had gone direct home, and not finding our servant in the place where he had been desired to wait, confirmed me still more in this idea. I therefore thought it best to proceed home, also, and hoped, thoroughly warmed as I was, to be able to go the short distance to our hotel without a cloak, although the cold had increased to twenty four degrees. But hardly had I reached the square before the Winterpalace, on the opposite side of which was our hotel, then I felt my nose and ears stiffen, and should certainly have had them frozen, although I rubbed them unceasingly, had I not been able to warm myself at a large fire in the middle of the square which had been lighted for the coachmen; before I attempted the other half of the way. Unluckily, however, Herr Eck had not yet come home, and as he had the key to our apartment, and the coffeeroom was already locked, I resolved to return again. Arrived there I managed to press forward to a buffet, and warm myself with a glass of punch. While I was observing the rich gold and silver plate with which the room was decorated, Herr Eck also came to the buffet. Arm in arm we wandered through the magnificient rooms once more, and then our servant with our cloaks having once more turned up, drove off together. My friend Remi, to whom I related my adventure, blamed me much for my want of precaution.”

On the 27. Feb. the so called “mad week” came to an end. It has its name from the circumstance of the Russians allowing themselves the most boundless extravagancies as a sort of indemnification for the ensuing fast. “Not being allowed to taste either meat, milk, or butter for six weeks, they cram themselves well for the last time, and give themselves so diligently to the brandy bottle, that they do not recover their sobriety, and in this state allow themselves every possible liberty, thinking to atone fully for all in the following fast.—In all parts of the town, booths are erected, in which fruit, liquors, and comfits are sold. In others, Polichinelli, trained dogs, juggler’s tricks and other things of the kind are exhibited. The chief delight of the Russians during this week is sliding down the ice-mountains, most likely because it is such a break-neck sport. Upon the Newa, and in various other places, high scaffoldings are erected, having on one side a flight of steps by which to ascend to the top, and on the other an incline descending gradually to the ground. This incline is laid down with large slabs of ice, which are joined together in the closest manner by water poured between the interstices. Down this glass-like surface of ice, the descent is then made in little sledges shod with steel, and these are guided by means of a short staff held in each hand. Great skill is required in order to keep the middle of the incline during the extreme velocity of the descent, so as not to fall over the sides which are protected by a slight barrier only. Four drunken Russians, who had scarcely started, having come in contact with each other’s sledges and being thereby brought too near the barrier, paid dearly for their awkwardness. They fell over; two were killed upon the spot and the others were carried away with broken limbs. But this did not in the least disturb the enjoyment of the people, who pressed forward anew in crowds to the steps. On the 26, the Court drove out to the scene, and remained for a long time spectators of the neck-breaking amusement. At an evening party at Baron Rall’s, I met also the Governor of Narva, who upon our passing through that town, had had us fetched almost forcibly to his house. He enquired in a friendly manner after my health; and added “on your return through Narva you will find the Petersburgh gate open, but the opposite one closed, and then you must remain my prisoner for eight days without mercy.”

“This evening, Field played as well as Herr Eck, and in truth wonderfully. At two o’clock, the company sat down to supper, and we did not arrive home till past four o’clock.”

On the 5. April, my birth-day; Herr Eck invited me to dine at the Hôtel de Londres. Previous to this, availing ourselves of the fine weather we took a walk on the Newa, the granite-faced bank of which was the resort of the beau monde. The breaking up of the ice was impatiently looked for, and heavy bets were made respecting the day on which this would take place.—In the evening I had a great and unexpected pleasure.

“Remi had again invited me to play duetts with him, and to day I was able to bring him a new one of my composition. After we had played this through for the second time, he embraced me and said: You must change violins with me, so that we may both possess a souvenir of each other! I was overcome with surprise and joy; for his violin had long pleased me better than my own. But as it was a genuine Guarneri, and at least worth as much again as mine, I felt obliged to decline his offer. He, however, would hear of no refusal and said: Your violin pleases me because I have heard you play on it so frequently, and though mine is really a better one; yet you must accept it from me as a birth-day present! I could now no longer refuse, and overjoyed carried my new treasure home with me. Here I would have liked but too well to play on it all night, and feast my ears with its heavenly tones; but as Herr Eck was already gone to bed, I was obliged to let it lie quietly in its case. Sleep, however, I could not!” On the 12. April, Herr Leveque came for me to take a walk down to the Newa. “We there found half St. Petersburgh assembled, awaiting the breaking up of the ice. At length, a cannon shot from the fortress announced the long desired moment. This was also the signal for the sailors to break up the long bridge of boats which connects Wasiliostrow with this part of the city. This was effected in a few minutes. The ice could now float down unimpeded, and in a short time boats were being rowed up and down. The first of these brought over the Governor of the fortress, who accompanied by a numerous suite and by the band of the regiment, brings over a glass of the water of the Newa to the Emperor in his Palace, and receives for it a present of 1000 roubles. After this, the serf-seamen of the Crown in red uniforms row all comers to and fro across, without charge, until the communication by the bridge of boats is re-established between both sides of the town. After we had looked on all this with great interest, walking up and down for some hours, we returned home.”

On Easter-Eve, Sunday, 17. April, I was awakened by the firing of cannon, which announced the commencement of the Festival. As the night was very calm, every shot was heard in long repeated echoes, until another fell upon the ear.—On Easter Sunday the Russian greets his acquaintances with the words: “Christ is risen!” upon which the person saluted is obliged to kiss the other. One need only go to the window, to see people on all sides embracing and kissing each other. It was related to me that, “the Empress Catherine was walking on the bank of the Newa one Easter Sunday accompanied by all her Court, when a dirty fellow, probably somewhat drunk, threw himself in her way with the salutation: “Christ is risen” upon which in order not to violate the holy custom, she was obliged to kiss him. But, upon a sign given by her, he was immediately seized, and had ample time afterwards in Siberia to repent of his boldness!”

A few weeks afterwards, I received a commission from Breitkopf & Härtel of Leipsic to write an article upon the state of Music in St. Petersburgh for their Journal, which was published in the course of 1803.

On the 13. May, a most original popular Festival took place. Every body who possesses either a carriage, a horse, or a sound pair of legs, betakes himself on this day through the Riga gate to the Katharinen Hof; where they stare at each other for a couple of hours and then return home. I went there with Leveque, and must confess, that the sight of the handsome equipages, of which there may have been at least two thousand, together with their fashionably dressed occupants, afforded me much amusement. Katharinen Hof is a small wood, which considering the climate looks tolerably green. From here one has a fine view of the sea. In the middle of the wood stands the Summer-Palace of Peter the Great, which together with its antique furniture is still kept up in exactly the same condition as when he lived there. It is a very poor looking place, and more like the house of a citizen than the Palace of a mighty Emperor. We returned home by another road, and saw numerous fine Villas and gardens, of which there are a great number outside this gate.

Thus amid various occupations, and short excursions to view the magnificent City, the time of our departure drew nigh. We agreed for our passage by sea with a Lubeck captain to whom for the voyage inclusive of board for both of us, we paid 20 ducats. Just before we left, we were present during the celebration of another grand Festival which I have minutely described. It was the Jubilee commemorating the foundation of St. Petersburgh by Peter the Great, one hundred years since.

On the 28. May, the whole garrison assembled on the Isaak Square and was drawn up and commanded by the Emperor in person. In his suite rode the whole of the General Staff, and the Ambassadors from Foreign Courts. At ten o’clock the Empress made her appearance with the Court, occupying some twenty magnificent carriages. The State Carriage in which the Empress mother sat by the side of the Empress, was covered with gilding and richly inlaid with precious stones. On the top of the carriage was a crown of brilliants, fixed upon a purple cushion. This state carriage was drawn by eight cream coloured horses in silver harness, ornamented also with precious stones. The other Court carriages which were also very handsome, were each drawn by six horses. The Emperor rode a magnificent horse richly caparisoned, but was otherwise dressed in a very plain uniform. In his suite was a Turkish Prince who attracted the attention of all by the splendour of his dress. The hilt of his sabre was covered with diamonds, and his stirrups and spurs were of massive gold. When the cortège had arrived in front of the Isaak’s Church, the Emperor dismounted and led the Empress into the edifice, where the Te-Deum laudamus was immediately chaunted by the Singers of the Court. Unfortunately we were not successful in our effort to get into the Church, as the doors were closed immediately after the entrance of the Court. But it is very probable that even in the interior of the building little of the Music could be heard, for not only were all the bells set ringing, but salvos of artillery were fired from the fortress, and by the ships of war lying in the Newa. The Military drawn up on the Square before the Church increased the noise yet more by the fire of musketry, and the populace were not at all backward in shouting, so in this manner not a single note of the Music reached us on the square. After the Service was ended, the Court proceeded on foot through two lines of soldiers to the Senate House. What ceremonies took place there, I was unable to ascertain. After the space of about half an hour, the Court resumed their places in the carriages, and the cortège returned in the same order to the palace. In the evening the City was brilliantly illuminated, and more so than I had ever yet seen. At nine o’clock, Leveque came to fetch me, and took me first of all to the Summer Garden. Dark clouds hung in the sky, and threatened to extinguish the lamps which had been but just lighted, with a heavy shower. With the now clear nights, when it keeps so light till midnight that one can read and write without a candle, this black sky was most welcome, for otherwise the illumination would have been less effective. The Garden was very brilliantly lit up. On both sides of the alleys a wooden frame work had been raised which was thickly hung with glass lamps of different colours. At the end of the Alleys, were seen brilliantly illuminated triumphal arches, in the centre of which shone the capital letters P (Peter) and A (Alexander). The whole of the Pavillions throughout the garden were also lit up in a splendid and tasteful manner.

But the Fortress presented a truly magic sight, as on leaving the Garden we came on the bank of the Newa. It swam in a very sea of fire! The granite masonry of the walls was hung with white lamps, the pillars and the cornice of the entrance gate with red, and the sentry boxes on the top of the ramparts with blue. The graceful tower of the fortress was lit up to its topmost point, and as there was no wind, there was not even one lamp that did not burn. From the place where we stood, the whole fairy like scene was again seen reflected in the Newa at our feet! It was indeed an enchanting sight! But the sky grew constantly darker and more threatening; we were therefore obliged to make haste, in order to see other parts of the city. Near the bridge, which was also brilliantly illuminated, we saw a large ship hung with lamps up to the very tops of the masts, between which countless streamers were waving.

The streets which radiate from the Admiralty in the form of a fan, many of which are above two miles in length, were lit up as light as day, and presented a magnificent sight, with the merry crowds streaming through them in their gayest attire. Among the Public Buildings which were richly decorated with transparencies and devices, the Admiralty was especially conspicuous. Some private houses also, exhibited transparencies, among others that of the Grand Chamberlain Narischkin; in which, Mars, accompanied by the allegorical figures of Wisdom and Justice, crowned the letters P. and A., the first of which had beneath it the Inscription: Gloire du premier Siècle, and the last: Gloire du second Siècle!—We now followed the stream of the multitude, which pressed forward to the Summer Garden where a display of Fire Works was to take place. But we had scarcely reached the Arcades of the Winter Palace, when a sudden torrent of rain put an end at once to the splendour of the scene, and St. Petersburgh but a few minutes before brilliant as with the light of day, was shrouded in Egyptian darkness! Under the Arcades of the Square where we had taken shelter, was the only place that remained illuminated. This circumstance procured for us a curious and amusing spectacle. The mass of people all dressed in their various coloured Sunday attire, who were flying home out of the Summer Garden, were obliged to pass in review before the place where we stood, and dripping with rain they presented a comical sight enough. Some women had drawn their dresses over their heads in place of umbrellas; others, trusting to the darkness, had even taken off their shoes and stockings to save them, and waded by barefooted, not a little discomposed at being obliged to pass by a place lit up so brightly, and filled with laughing spectators. At length after about an hour, the rain ceased, and we now could also return to our homes. On the 1. June, (20. May) I packed up my last things and then went to take leave of my friends and acquaintances. The parting from my kind friend Remi, was very painful, and cost us both many tears. He promised in a few years to pay me a visit in Germany. My leave taking from my Instructor to whom I owed so much, was a very sad one, and the more so, that for some time past he had again been very unwell, and I therefore feared I should never see him again!

This fear was but too well grounded; we never saw each other more! Respecting his subsequent and in part highly romantic fate, I have learned the following, but cannot pledge myself for its entire truth, since I derived it for the most part from hearsay.

At the time I left St. Petersburgh, Eck had entered upon a love affair with a daughter of a Member of the Imperial Orchestra, but without the least notion of marrying the girl. Shocked at such levity, I thought it my duty to caution the parents. I did so; but my warning was received with coldness and disbelief. Some months afterwards, when the visits of Herr Eck had suddenly ceased, the daughter confessed with tears that she had been seduced by him, and that she already felt the consequences of it. Her mother, a resolute woman, succeeded in obtaining an audience of the Emperor; threw herself at his feet, and implored the restitution of her daughter’s honour. The Emperor consented. In true Russo-Imperial style he offered Herr Eck the choice: either to marry his sweetheart within twenty four hours, or prepare for a promenade to Siberia. Herr Eck naturally chose the former. That a marriage sprung out of such circumstances would soon become a hell upon earth, may easily be imagined. Eck, whose health had been already greatly shattered by his former excesses, could not long endure the effects of the daily recurring matrimonial discords. He lost his senses, and soon became so furious, that the mother in law was again obliged to entreat the Emperor’s assistance. He granted a dissolution of the marriage; gave the wife a pension, and ordered the husband to be sent under proper care to his brother, at Nancy. The selection of the man to whom the unfortunate sufferer and the sum granted by the Emperor for the journey were entrusted, was however, a very unluckly one, and failed in its object; for scarcely had he arrived in Berlin with the invalid, than he declared to the Russian Ambassor there, that the money was expended, and therefore he could accompany his charge no farther. At the same time he laid before the Ambassor an account of his expenses, according to which indeed, the sum given by the Emperor was exhausted. There were however some very extraordinary items in the account; among others, a dinner of one hundred covers, which the lunatic had ordered without the knowledge of his guardian, in one of the first Hotels in Riga, and which the latter had been obliged to pay. Whether the Ambassador remained satisfied with this account, was never known; but the Guardian disappeared all of a sudden!

In the meantime, the lunatic finding that he was no longer watched, was seized with the desire to escape. One evening, half dressed only, he succeeded in slipping out of his room unperceived; and as there was a heavy fall of snow at the time, he effected his escape unperceived through the city gate. He had already got some miles from Berlin when he was seized by some peasants, and as they believed him to be an escaped convict they brought him back bound to the city. At the Police Office, the poor half frozen fugitive was soon discovered to be a lunatic, and handed over to the Asylum for the insane. Some members of the Court Orchestra who a few years before had known and admired the unfortunate man in the height of his artistic career, became interested for him. They set on foot a subscription among their colleagues and some wealthy amateurs of the Art, and with the proceeds they sent him under the care of a trustworthy man to his brother at Nancy. The latter procured for him a becoming treatment in the Asylum at Strasbourg, where he remained for several years. His misfortune then reached the ears of his former patroness the Dowager Electress of Bavaria, who sent him to a clergyman of Offenbach or somewhere near that place, who devoted himself to the cure of the insane. There, it is said, if not quite cured, he became much more composed, so that a violin could again be placed in his hands, from which it is said he drew the most touching melodies. After the death of the Electress he was then placed in the Asylum for the insane at Bamberg, where, either in 1809 or 1810, he died.

On the 2. June (21. May) at 9 in the morning, we sailed from St. Petersburgh.

“On passing a guard ship at the mouth of the Newa we were compelled to show our passports, these were returned to us without charge, which from our previous experience astonished us greatly. As the wind was against us, the sailors were obliged to row continually, this made the progress slow and at length very tedious; so that we were very glad when at last we arrived at 2 o’clock at Cronstadt. We there put up at the German eating house, the master of which had been recommended to us for his honesty. But with all that, he retained also the thorough bluntness, not to say rudeness of his class, for when we returned at 9 in the evening from a walk, and asked for supper, he replied with a true north-German accent: now is no time for eating, people go to bed now! And with that he turned his back upon us. Dumbstruck, we went up stairs, and had already made up our minds that we must go hungry to bed, when he at length had us called down to supper. At first we were much inclined to refuse it; but our hunger got the better of our sensitiveness. We went down, found a right good repast, and the host who waited upon us himself, sought to make amends for his previous rudeness by the most friendly behaviour.”

It was not until after some days that the wind became fair for the farther voyage; but very soon, and for a very long time, the “Saturn”—so our ship was called—was obliged to tack about, and on the 14 June “we were still not far distant from the high land, which we had already reached on the first day.” On the second day the sea rose very high, and the passengers therefore, three women and nine men, became all sea-sick one after the other. With me it began with a head ache. “I felt my courage so depressed, that I bitterly repented to have come by sea.” But on the fourth day I got better, and in a short time, although the sea was still very rough, I felt as well as on land. It was not so with all, for the ladies and also some of the gentlemen were for a long time sick and invisible. Leveque and I amused ourselves meanwhile very well. We played duetts, read, wrote, and made sketches; walked up and down the deck and ate and drank with real appetite. In this way passed day after day. But like the others, we longed for a fair wind, “for this eternal tacking, with which one makes but little progress, is quite unbearable!”

On the 15 June, the wind grew fair; on the 16, it fell almost calm, and on the 20, we had a storm. This was so violent that the ship cracked in every timber. “I crept ill as I was, upon deck, to see the terribly grand spectacle. I got thoroughly drenched it is true, for the waves broke every moment over the deck, nor could I long endure above the piercing wind and cold. But it was worth the effort, to see how the waves like mountains, came rolling on, threatening to submerge us, how they then suddenly seized us, lifted us high in air, and then again as quickly let us plunge into a deep abyss! Although I had become somewhat accustomed to this sight by the previously experienced high sea, yet every time we made a plunge, I felt my back run cold, and should have thought we were in great danger, had I not read the contrary in the calm face of the captain. He gave his orders always with the same coolness. But it was nevertheless fearful to behold how the seamen clambered to the top of the masts, and then out upon the yards to reef the sails. Only those who have grown up amid such perils can brave unmoved the wild rage of the elements.”

On the 26 June, we arrived off Bornholm, a Danish island, on which we could perceive two small towns, several villages, and a carefully cultivated country. “The sight of the green cornfields which I had not beheld for so long a time was particularly cheering to me.” From a small neighbouring island “some peasants put off to us in a boat with some fresh meat, vegetables and milk. I was particularly pleased with the latter, for I could not at all relish the black coffee.”

“On one or two evenings, with a clear sky and calm weather, we had a sight, such as one never sees in the same grandeur upon land, namely, the sun set. It is impossible to describe the splendour of the ever changing colours, with those also of the clouds scattered over the heavens, and which were again reflected in a sea as smooth as glass; but the impression made by this heavenly sight in the solemn stillness of the evening, upon the whole ship-company assembled on the deck, will never be forgotten by me. I saw the most callous among them moved by it.”

At length on the 28 June, after a voyage of one and twenty days, the “Saturn” cast anchor in the roads of Travemünde, and on the 5. July, 1803, I was once more in my native town Brunswick, which after my long absence was now doubly dear to me. We arrived at 2 o’clock in the morning.

I alighted at the Petri Gate, crossed the Ocker in a boat, and hastened to my grandmother’s garden. But arrived there, I found both the house and garden doors locked, and as my knocking was not heard, I clambered over the garden wall, and laid myself down on the ground in an open summer house at the bottom of the garden. Fatigued by the journey I immediately fell asleep, and notwithstanding the hardness of my couch, would probably have slept on for a long time, had not my aunts in their morning walk in the garden, discovered me in my retreat. Greatly allarmed, they turned back, and told my grandmother that a strange man was lying in the summerhouse. Returning all three together, they had courage to approach nearer, recognised me, and I was now awakened with joyous exclamations, embraces and kisses. For some time I could not recollect where I was; at length I recognised my dear relations, and was overjoyed to find myself among them once more, and in the home of my childhood. They had been very anxious about me, as owing to our tediously long sea passage they had received no intelligence of us for six weeks.

The first pleasing news that I heard, was, that the celebrated Rode was there, and would shortly play at Court. I therefore immediately announced my return to the Duke, in order to be permitted to attend the Court-concert.

I immediately closed my oft cited Diary, with the wish that “it might often afford me a pleasing remembrance of the agreable journey.” I was received by my Patron with the same benevolent kindness as formerly, which was manifested also, by his gift of the remainder of the sum furnished for my travelling expenses, which was by no means inconsiderable, and which upon my handing in the account and the balance, was presented to me by the Grand Chamberlain. For the dedication of my Concerto, which I had handed to the Duke on my first interview, I also received twenty Friedrichsd’or.[5]

I now burned with the desire, to appear with this Concerto before the Duke, in public, as a Violinist and Composer; to exhibit proofs of my industry, and the progress I had made. But this was not to be effected so readily, for Rode had already announced a Concert to be given in the Theatre. The idea of making my appearance so soon after that celebrated Violinist was also a source of some anxiety to me. For the more I heard him play, the more was I captivated with his playing. Yes! I had no hesitation to place Rode’s style of play (then still reflecting all the brilliancy of that of his great master Viotti,) above that of my Instructor Eck, and to apply myself sedulously to acquire it as much as possible by a careful practice of Rode’s compositions.

In this I succeeded also, by no means ill, and up to the time when I had by degrees formed a style of playing of my own, I had become the most faithful imitator of Rode among all the young violinists of that day. I succeeded more especially in executing in his style the eighth Concerto, the three first Quartetts, and the world famed Variations in G-Major; in these, both in Brunswick, and afterwards on my first grand artistic tour, I achieved great success.

Shortly after Rode’s departure, the day I had so ardently wished for arrived, on which in a Concert given by me at the Theatre, I was to exhibit the first proofs of the artistic skill I had acquired on my travels. Curiosity had assembled a numerous audience. From the ready surety with which I could play not only my own Concerti, but the other music I had practised under Eck’s direction, I might have been expected to feel no embarrassment upon my appearance. Nevertheless, I could not wholly overcome it, when I thought, that, but shortly before, in the very place where I stood, so great a Violinist had played before the same audience. But I had now to put to shame my invidious detractors, who on my setting out upon my journey had loudly asserted that the Duke would again throw away his money upon one who would prove incapable and ungrateful. I therefore summoned all my resolution, and already during the Tutti of my Concerto, I succeeded in banishing from my mind all and every thing around me, and gave myself up to my play with my whole soul. The result, also, was a success beyond all expectation; for already after the first Solo, a general applause broke forth, which increased with every succeeding one, and at the end of the Concert seemed as though it would never cease. The Duke, also, who during the intervening pause sent for the young artiste to his box, expressed to him his full satisfaction. That day, therefore, is still borne in my remembrance as one of the happiest of my life.

I was now appointed First Violin, in the place of a recently deceased “Kammermusicus” and received the additional salary accruing to that post, of 200 thalers. But as on account of the three months grace allowed to his widow, this salary could not immediately commence, I was compensated by another present of twenty Friedrichsd’or.

With my salary of three hundred thalers, and my additional evenings I could at that time live quite respectably and free from care. I therefore, again took my brother Ferdinand to live with me, and devoted myself assiduously to his improvement. As I had not yet seen my parents and brothers and sister, I went to Seesen to fetch him. While there I received a visit from my fellow traveller Leveque, who was about to return to St. Petersburgh. During the eight days we were together, we played diligently, and my parents and musical friends of the little town were especially delighted with the performance of my Duetts, which we had so perfectly studied during the sea voyage.

On my return to Brunswick, I began anew my labours in composition. I first of all completed a Violin-Concerto in E-Minor, which I had commenced on the journey, but which remained unpublished, because it no longer pleased me after I had adopted Rode’s style of execution. Nevertheless I played it several times with great applause in the Winter-Concerts. At that time also, at the wish of the Violoncellist Beneke, whom I frequently met at Quartett parties, I wrote a Concertante for Violin and Violoncello with orchestral accompaniment. Neither was this work ever published, and not even included in the list of my compositions, as at the time I began to make that, I did not lay my hand on it, and indeed had wholly forgotten it. Nevertheless there must be some copy of it in existence, for I heard it once in 1817 or 1818, at a concert in Mayence given by the brothers Gans, afterwards members of the Royal Orchestra at Berlin, who played it without at the same time acknowledging it as my composition. It is true, the piece of music seemed known to me, just as though I had heard it before; but not until I had asked my neighbour for the programme of the concert, and seen my name affixed to the piece, did the recollection of that production of my youth recur to my mind. I now recollect nothing more of it, than that it consisted of an Adagio and Rondo, and the last written in 6/8 time. But I can no longer remember the key.

The practise of this Concertante with Beneke may probably have given rise to the resolution we formed to make an artistic tour together, and to Paris; where I had long desired to go. The permission for this journey was readily obtained through the favour in which I stood with the Duke, and so we set out upon it in January, 1804, with the most pleasing anticipations.

We first spent some few days with my parents at Seesen, from whence we announced our coming to Göttingen, to give our first concert there. For the journey thither, we hired a carriage. Shortly before my leaving Brunswick I had had a case made more worthy of the splendid Violin I had brought from Russia, i. e. a very elegant one, and in order to protect this from all injury, I had packed it in my trunk between my linen and clothes. I therefore took care that this, which contained my whole estate, should be carefully fastened behind the carriage with cords. But, notwithstanding, I thought it necessary to look out round at it, frequently, particularly as the driver told me that but recently between Nordheim and Göttingen, several trunks had been cut down from behind carriages. As the carriage had no window at the back, this continual looking out behind was a very troublesome business, and I was therefore very glad, when towards evening we arrived between the gardens of Göttingen, and I had convinced myself for a last time that the trunk was still in its place. Delighted, that I had brought it so far in safety, I remarked to my fellow-traveller: my first care shall now be to procure a good strong chain and padlock for the better security of the trunk.

In this manner we arrived at the town gate, just as they were lighting the lamps. The carriage drew up before the guardhouse. While Beneke gave our names to the sergeant, I anxiously asked one of the soldiers who stood round the carriage: is the trunk still well secured?

“There is no trunk there!” was the reply. With one bound I was out of the carriage, and rushed out through the gate with a drawn hunting knife. Had I with more reflection listened awhile, I might perhaps have been fortunate enough to hear and overtake the thieves running off by some side path. But in my blind rage, I had far overshot the place where I had last seen the trunk, and only discovered my overhaste when I found myself in the open field. Inconsolable for my loss, I turned back. While my fellow-traveller looked for the Inn, I hastened to the Police Office, and requested that an immediate search might be made in the gardenhouses outside the gate. With astonishment and vexation I was informed that the jurisdiction outside the gate belonged to Weende, and that I must address my request there. As Weende was half a league from Göttingen, I was compelled to abandon for that evening all further steps for the recovery of my things. That these would prove fruitless on the following morning, I now also felt assured; and I passed a sleepless night, in a state of mind such as in my hitherto fortunate career had been wholly unknown to me. Had I not have lost my splendid Guarneri-violin, the exponent of all the artistic excellence I had till then attained, I could have lightly borne the loss of the rest. A moderate success during the tour would soon replace them. But in this manner, without a violin, I should be compelled not only to give up the journey, but in a certain degree recommence my study anew from the very beginning.

On the following morning the Police sent to inform me that an empty trunk and a violin-case had been found in the fields behind the gardens. Full of joy I hastened thither, in the hope that the thieves might have left the violin in the case, as an object of no value to them, and as likely to lead to their discovery. But unfortunately it did not prove so. The bow of the violin, only, a genuine Tourté, secured in the lid of the case, had remained undiscovered; everything else, inclusive also of a sum in gold for the expenses of the journey, had been carried off. The Music had been considered unworthy of the thieves’ notice. It was found strewed all over the field. As my manuscripts were among it, of which I had no copies, I was glad to have recovered these at least.

Without money, without clothes and linen, I was now first of all obliged to procure on credit what was most necessary, before I could give with my fellow-traveller the concert which we had already announced. In the meantime, I practised diligently upon a very good violin by Stainer which I borrowed of a student from Hanover, and thus prepared, I made my first appearance out of Brunswick as an artiste. The concert was unusually well attended. Perhaps the account of my loss had contributed to it. The Solo performances of the two artistes, as also together, in my Concertante, were received with enthusiastic applause.

This it is true was very encouraging for a further prosecution of the journey; but anxiously concerned for my reputation, I could not make up my mind to appear publicly, before I had procured a good violin of my own, and had carefully practised myself upon it.

As Beneke was unwilling to proceed further on the journey without me, we therefore returned to Brunswick. The intelligence of my loss had already become generally known there. The Duke, also, had heard of it, and in order to facilitate my purchase of a new instrument sent me again a handsome present. With the aid of that, I purchased from a Herr von Hantelmann, a distinguished amateur, the best violin in Brunswick at that time, but I soon felt, that it could not fully replace the one which I had lost.

In order to prepare myself well for a future journey, I again applied myself diligently to composition. Thus I wrote the Concerto in D-Minor which was published by Kühnel of Leipsic as (Op. 2), a Potpourri upon chosen themes (published also by the same, as Op. 5.) and a Concerto in A-Major which has remained in manuscript. In these, as also, in some subsequent compositions, Rode’s style is predominant, from which at a later period only, my own style and peculiar mode of execution develloped themselves.

In this manner passed the summer of 1804. In the autumn, fully prepared for a fresh Musical tour, I felt disposed to repair first to the German Capitals. I much desired also to appear once in Leipsic, which through the excellently conducted Musical Journal of Rochlitz had risen to be the Centre of Musical criticism. I therefore set out upon my second Artistic tour on the 18. October, through Leipsic and Dresden, to Berlin.

Of this journey also, a Diary exists, but which extends only to the 9. December, and then suddenly breaks off. The cause of this will be related hereafter.

I made my first stay at Halberstadt, where I gave a public Concert, and on the following day played at the house of Count Wernigerode. Among the Musical amateurs who received me in a particularly kind manner I must mention the Vicar of the Cathedral, Augustin, and the Auditor Ziegler. With the latter, who was an accomplished connoisseur of Music and an excellent pianist, I remained on terms of intimacy until his death. I received also great attention and assistance in getting up my Concert, from the there resident Musicians, the brother Organists Müller and Holzmärker, the Violinist Glöckner, with whom I played my Duetts, the Bassonist Barnbeck, and Clase, the Secretary and Musical Director of Count Wernigerode. I therefore passed many pleasant days in Halberstadt.

One afternoon, “I took a walk with Herr Holzmärker and one of his friends outside the gate of the town. We visited the Klus, a mountain on the top of which rise several isolated steep rocks, the inside of which is excavated, and which according to the legend was the work of robbers, who in former times took up their abode there. I could not resist the desire to ascend one of these rocks, hazardous as was the attempt, and earnestly as my companions dissuaded me from it. I succeeded in reaching the summit without accident, and besides the pleasure I felt at having effected what few had the courage to attempt, I had that of an extensive and magnificent view. So far all went well. But when at length I wished to descend, and looked down the declivity, a sudden giddiness overcame me, and I was instantly obliged to sit down to save myself from falling over the precipice. Full ten minutes elapsed before I could summon the necessary composure to make the descent, and it is doubtful whether I should have effected it in safety, if the gentlemen below had not shouted to me, where to set my feet, which I could not see to do, having my face turned towards the rock. Trembling from the exertion and the convulsive clinging to the rock, as well as thoroughly ashamed at having disregarded the warning of the two gentlemen, I reached them at length, and returned with them to the town not a little glad to have escaped uninjured from so eminent a danger.”

On the 22. October, I gave my Concert. At the rehearsal, my Concerto in D-Minor had made a great sensation.

“Messrs. Ziegler, Müller and others declared to my great satisfaction, that they had never heard a finer Violin Concerto.”

“The Concert itself began at five o’clock. The Theatre was very empty, but the audience was composed of persons possessed of a high intelligence of Art, as I could readily see by the deep silence and sympathy with which my play was listened to.” Among other things, the following were executed: A Symphony by Haydn; my Concerto in D-Minor; a Concerto in D-Major by Kreutzer; a Polonaise by Rode from the Quartett in Es-Major. After the Concert, Count Wernigerode expressed his satisfaction to me, and invited me to a Concert at his house on the following day, in which the third Count assisted as Clarionetist in the orchestra. I played Rode’s Concerto in A-Major and his Quartett in Es-Major.

“After the Concert was over, the company surrounded me and overwhelmed me with expressions of praise. I was obliged to relate to the ladies a great deal about St. Petersburgh.”

In Magdeburg, as artiste I also met with the most friendly reception. Captain von Cornberg, Major von Witzleben, Regimental Quartermaster Türpen, and Privy Counsellor Schäfer, to whom I was recommended, exerted themselves to the utmost, both to procure a numerous audience for me, and to make my stay as agreeable as possible. Already at my first Concert on the 3. November, the audience was very numerous. I played my D-Minor-Concerto, the A-Minor-Concerto of Rode, and the G-Major-variations.

“I succeeded right well in all, and the people seemed to be quite carried away by my play.”

At this time I occupied myself with the remodelling of my last Concerto but one, in E-Minor. I wrote an entirely new Adagio for it.

At a Musical party at the house of the Secretary to the Board of Finance, Feska, I heard his son play in a Quartett of his own composition.

“The Quartett,” says the Diary, “is very well worked out and evinces great talent. As a Player he pleased me less. He is certainly not wanting in mechanical skill, but in a finished and well regulated handling of the bow, and therefore in a good tone, and in clearness of the passages. Neither was his intonation always pure. Were he to study under a good master, he might become something great.”

I went frequently to parties at the houses of the Merchants Hildebrandt and Schmager, of the Criminal-Counsellor Sukrow, and the Privy Counsellor Schäfer, and “everywhere pleased much.”

“I was also invited by Türpen to an interesting Musical Soirée. I found assembled there a small but a very select company of the most zealous friends of Music in Magdeburg. I played Quartetts by Haydn, Beethoven, Mozart, and in conclusion the Es-Major-Quartett of Rode. I was accompanied very well in all of them, so I that could give myself entirely up to my feelings. The company seemed enchanted. Herr Türpen affirmed that I understood better than any one how to render the peculiar style of each Composer. As finale, our host played a Trio by Mozart, right well, on a very good pianoforte by Blum of Brunswick. But he has the bad habit of drawing out the “Canto” too much, by which he rather injures the expression than improves it.”

On the 10. November, I gave my second Concert, which was not quite so numerously attended as the first, and in which I executed a Symphony by Haydn and my Violin-Concerto in E-Minor, I also played a Concertante by Eck, with Feska. The remodelled E-Minor-Concerto went well. The new Adagio appeared to please very much.

Of the other circumstances that occurred while I was in Magdeburg, I will only mention a theatrical representation, the Author of the Piece having made himself a name in the theatrical world by his piquante notice “Musical Ollapodrida from Paris.” It was the first representation of “The Female Abällino” by Sievers.

“Never have I read or seen enacted a more wretched piece. It is a sorry imitation of the well known “Great Bandit,” but has neither the exciting scenes nor the clever dialogue which made that piece a favorite of the public. The chief personage Rosa Salviatti, who in order to protect her lover from a conspiracy of his uncle’s, resorts to the most romantic and absurd means, explains the reasons of her conduct in a speech that lasts at least a quarter of an hour. The public, which had already previously manifested signs of impatience, became so noisy during this discourse, that the play could scarcely be concluded. At length when the curtain fell, a general hissing and whistling broke forth. The unfortunate Author, unappreciated as he considered he had been in Brunswick, and who thought to achieve a triumph here, is said to have been present in the Theatre, but made a hasty retreat before the end of the piece.”

Respecting my stay in Halle, whither I next went, the Diary gives but very scanty information. The more I was drawn into society by an increased circle of acquaintances, the less pleasure I took as it would appear, in the previous frequent freedom of style in my remarks upon it. I may also not have had the time, as I was very careful in preparing myself for every performance whether public or private, and was constantly engaged in composing.

My two Concerts on the 21. and 23. November, were very well attended. Besides my own works, I played a Concerto of Rode, A-Minor and the G-Major variations.

“My play met with an enthusiastic reception.” The persons, who took a particular interest in me, and whom I have to thank for many pleasant hours, were the Family Garrigues, consisting of the father, mother, daughter and two sons, all of them very charming, polite people; Lafontaine and his fascinating adopted daughter; Chodowiecki, Niemeier and Loder. Among the students I made the acquaintance of some clever amateurs. One Herr Schneider played well on the piano; another, Herr Müller right well on the violin. Herr Gründler, from Trebnitz near Breslau, immediately took instruction from me on the violin.

I yet remember also the following incident: Among those who were also of assistance to me in the arrangements for my Concert was the celebrated Counterpointist Türk. He directed the Academical Concerts, one of which took place during my stay in Halle. The Opera “Titus” was given as Concert-Music. The public had been already assembled for the space of half an hour; the Orchestra had finished tuning and awaited the signal to begin. Among the Student part of the audience, great dissatisfaction had begun to shew itself at the delay in the appearance of the Singer; but when he at length made his appearance, in very unseemly dress for the occasion, in an overcoat and with dirty boots, the general disapprobation was shewn by hissing and a shuffling of the feet. The Singer, into whose hands the impatient Director had already thrust the notes, stepped forward and said with a contemptuous look: “If I do not please you as I am, why then I can go away again!” Hereupon he threw the notes at the feet of the Director and rushed out of the place. They ran after him to bring him back; but all in vain! I now expected that the Concert would be postponed, or at least that all those “Numbers” in which Titus has to sing, would be omitted. Nothing of the kind! The conscientious Director did not allow his auditory to go short of a single bar of the music; he knew how to help himself!

He played upon his Grand-Piano the whole Part of Titus, Recitative, Airs, and Concerted-pieces from the first note to the last! I was astounded, and knew not whether to be vexed, or to laugh at the singularly naive expedient. But it was made quite clear to me that evening, that a man may be a learned Counterpointist and yet not possess an atom of good taste!

After my arrival in Leipsic on 29. November, the Diary gives two short notices and then remains wholly silent. The first concerns a representation of the Opera by Paer: “Die Wegelagerer” (The Way-layer); the second relates to a visit to the Drapers-Hall-Concerts.

“These Concerts”, it says, “are got up by a Society of shopkeepers. But they are not Amateur-concerts; for the orchestra is alone composed of professional musicians, and is both numerous and excellent. For the Vocal part a foreign female singer is always engaged, as the Director of the Theatre does not allow his singers to appear in concerts. This year it is a Signora Alberghi from Dresden, the daughter of a Church-singer of that City. She is still very young, but has already a very good method, and a clear, melodious voice. She sang two arias with great applause. Besides that, I heard the Concert Master of the society, Herr Campagnoli, play a Concerto by Kreutzer, extremely well. His method, it is true, is of the old school; but his play is pure and finished. The Room in which these Concerts are given is exceedingly handsome, and particularly favorable to the effect of the music.”

I had many difficulties to overcome for the arrangements of my concert. Engrossed in the business pursuits of this commercial city, people did not come forward to assist me with the readiness I had been hitherto accustomed to meet, and I had much to do before every obstacle was overcome. It annoyed me also that the wealthy merchants to whom I was recommended appeared as yet to know nothing of my artistic reputation, and that though politely, they received me coldly. I was therefore exceedingly desirous to be invited to some musical party, in order to attract notice to my capabilities. This wish was gratified; I received an invitation to a large evening party, with the request to perform something. I selected for the occasion, one of the finest of Beethoven’s six new Quartetts, with my performance of which I had so frequently charmed my audience in Brunswick. But already after a few bars, I remarked that those who accompanied me were as yet unacquainted with this music, and therefore unable to enter into the spirit of it. If this already annoyed me, my dissatisfaction was much more increased when I remarked that the company soon paid no more attention to my play. For by degrees, a conversation began, that soon became so general and so loud that it almost overpowered the music. I therefore rose up in the midst of my playing, before even the first Theme was concluded, and without uttering a word, hastened to replace my violin in its case. This excited a great sensation among the company, and the master of the house advanced towards me with an enquiring look. I went forward to meet him, and said aloud, so as to be heard by the company: “I have hitherto been accustomed to find my play listened to with attention. As that has not been so here, I of course thought the company would prefer that I discontinued.” The Master of the house knew not what reply to make, and retired much embarrassed. But when, after having apologised to the Musicians for breaking off so suddenly, I shewed the intention to take my leave of the company, the host returned and said in a friendly tone: “If you could be persuaded to play something else for the company more adapted to their taste and capacity you will find a very attentive and grateful auditory.” I, who had already clearly comprehended, that I was most to blame for what had occurred, from my misapprehension in the choice of music for such an auditory, was glad of the opportunity to conciliate matters. I therefore willingly resumed my violin and played Rode’s Quartett in Es, which the Musicians knew and therefore well accompanied. A breathless silence now reigned, and the interest shewn in my play increased with every passage. On the conclusion of the Quartett so many flattering things were said to me of my play, that I was induced now to parade my hobby-horse the G-Major-Variations of Rode. With this I so enchanted the company that I became the object of the most flattering attention for the remainder of the evening.

This incident became the subject of conversation for many days, and was probably the cause, that the musical-amateurs whose attention had been thereby directed to me, came even to the rehearsal of my Concert in considerable number. At this, I succeeded so well in winning them over to me, by the execution of my D-Minor-Concerto, that before the evening on which my Concert was to take place they had spread a favourable account of my performances throughout the City, and thereby a more numerous audience was attracted than I had dared to hope. The élite of the musical amateurs of Leipsic and a very sympathetic public were present. I now succeeded also in awakening such an enthusiasm in my auditory, that at the conclusion of the concert I was vehemently solicited to give a second. This took place a week later, and was one of the most numerously attended that had ever been given by a foreign artiste in Leipsic. In the meanwhile, I was frequently invited to Quartett parties, at which, after I had previously practised them with those who were to accompany me, I obtained more particularly a hearing for my favorites the six first of Beethoven’s Quartetts. I was the first, who played them in Leipsic, and I succeeded in obtaining a full appreciation of their excellence by my style of execution. At these Quartett parties I also first made the acquaintance of the Editor of the Musical-Journal, Councellor Rochlitz, and from that time till his death maintained the most friendly relations with him. Rochlitz wrote a notice of my concert in his paper.

As that Notice first established my reputation in Germany, and had an influence upon my career in life, it may serve as apology for my verbal citation of it in this place:

“On the 10. December, 1804, Herr Spohr gave a Concert in Leipsic, and at the solicitation of many, a second, on the 17. in both of which he afforded us a treat such as, so far as we can remember, no Violinist with the exception of Rode ever gave us. Herr Spohr may without doubt take rank among the most eminent violinists of the present day, and one would be astonished at his powers, more especially when his youth is considered, were it possible to pass from a sense of real delight to cold astonishment. He gave us a grand Concerto of his own composition (D-Minor), which was called for a second time, and another, also from his own pen (E-Minor). His Concerti, rank with the finest existing, and in particular, we know of no Violin Concerto, which can take precedence of that in D-Minor, whether as regards conception, soul and charm, or also, in respect of precision and firmness. His peculiarity inclines mostly to the grand and to a soft dreamy melancholy. And so it is with his brilliant play. Herr Spohr can execute everything; but he charms most by the former. As regards, in the first place, correctness of play in the broadest sense, it is here, as may be presupposed, as sure fundamental principle; a perfect purety, surety and precision, the most remarkable execution; every manner of bow-ing, every variety of violin-tone, the most unembarrassed ease in the management of all these, even in the most difficult passages; these constitute him one of the most accomplished virtuosi. But the soul which he breathes into his play, the flights of fancy, the fire, the tenderness, the intensity of feeling, the fine taste, and lastly his insight into the spirit of the most different Compositions, and his art of rendering each in its own peculiar spirit make him a real Artiste. This last faculty we have never seen possessed in so remarkable a degree as by Herr Spohr, and more especially in his Quartett-playing. It is therefore not surprising that he should please everywhere, and scarcely leaves any other sentiment behind, than the wish to detain and to hear him always.”

I felt exceedingly happy that moment! But it was not alone the recognition of my merits as an artiste that infused a new life into my whole being: it was another, a more tender feeling. I loved and was beloved.

The day after I saw and heard Rosa Alberghi for the first time at the Draper’s Hall Concert, I paid her a visit, to invite her to take part at my concert. Both mother and daughter received me in a very friendly manner. The former, although a resident in Germany for many years, had not acquired one word of our language. As she also shook her head on my addressing her in French, I was obliged to make my wishes known to the daughter, who, educated in Dresden, spoke German fluently. She very willingly assented to my request, and forthwith chatted with me a child-like ingenuousness, as though we had long known each other. On my taking leave, Rosa asked me to come again soon. I had already gazed too deeply into her brilliant dark eyes, to let her wait long for me. And as the mother soon made me cordially welcome, I passed all my hours of leisure at their house. I accompanied Rosa in her singing practice on the piano, to the best of my ability; assisted her in the study of the Music sent to her by the Directors of the Concerts, and embellished her Arias with new ornaments, at which she always evinced a really child-like pleasure. In this manner, without our perceiving it, our relations became constantly more tender. The notes in my Diary on this subject had however come to a stop, nor were they afterwards resumed. Rosa now sang in my second Concert, and as her engagement in Leipsic was drawing to a close, and that she was about to return to Dresden, she offered also to sing in my concerts there.

I now therefore, left for Dresden, furnished with high recommendations. A letter from Rosa introduced me to her father, who received me in the most friendly manner. He, with some members of the Dresden Royal Orchestra, namely the brothers Röthe assisted me in the arrangements for my concert, and thereby made an always unpleasant business much lighter for me.

Rosa returned to Dresden a few days before the concert, and sang in it with her father. The success which my play and compositions met with, was even more brilliant than in Leipsic. As there, also, I was invited on all sides to give a second concert. While I was making arrangements for this, I was advised to announce myself also at Court, as from the sensation which my Play had made, there could be no doubt of a favourable result.

But, when I was informed, that the Court-Concerts took place during Dinner and that no exception to the rule was made in favour of foreign artistes, my youthful Artistic pride kindled with indignation at the idea that my Play would be accompanied by the clatter of plates; so that I immediately declined the honour, of playing at Court.

My second Concert was extremely well attended, and the applause almost greater than at the first.

I now thought of my departure for Berlin, but could not make up my mind to it; for the parting from my beloved Rosa seemed too painful to think of. When, on a sudden, her father surprised me with a proposal which still further delayed the dreaded parting. He said, that he had long wished his daughter should appear in Berlin, and if I had no objection to give some concerts there together with her, as he was himself unable to obtain leave of absence, his wife should accompany her on the journey.

To this proposal with joy I acceded and immediately began to make every preparation for our departure. As the journey by Coach, was considered too fatiguing for the ladies, we hired a carriage together. I sat opposite to my beloved one, and complained neither of the slowness of our progress nor the length of the journey. Arrived in Berlin, we found apartments all ready for us in the same house, which my former Instructor Kunisch, now a member of the Berlin Royal Orchester, had provided for us upon receipt of a letter from me announcing our coming. The latter, not a little proud to introduce the young Artiste as his former Pupil, procured for me the acquaintance of the most distinguished artistes of Berlin, and was also of great assistance to me in making arrangements for a concert, which nevertheless owing to the great number of persons then giving concerts, was obliged to be postponed for some time.

Meanwhile I delivered my letters of recommendation, and thereupon was invited to some Music parties. I first played at Prince Radziwill’s, himself well known as a distinguished Violoncellist, and talented Composer. I there met Bernhard Romberg, Möser, Seidler, Semmler, and other distinguished artistes. Romberg, then in the zenith of his fame as a Virtuoso, played one of his Quartetts with Violoncello obligato. I had never yet heard him, and I was charmed with his play. Being now solicited to play something myself, I thought that to such Artistes and Connoisseurs I could offer nothing more worthy than my favorite Quartetts of Beethoven. But again I soon remarked that, as at Leipsic, I had committed an error; for the musicians of Berlin knew as little of those Quartetts as the Leipsickers, and therefore could neither play nor appreciate them. When I had finished, they praised my play, it is true, but spoke very disparagingly of what I had performed. Romberg, even, said very bluntly: “But dear Spohr, how can you play such stuff as that?” I was now quite doubtful of my own taste, when I heard one of the most famous artistes of the day express such an opinion of my favorites. Later in the evening when again asked to play, I selected as I had done in Leipsic, Rode’s Es-Major-Quartett, and was gratified by a similar favourable result in this instance.

The second Music-party, to which also my fellow-travellers were invited, was at Prince Louis Ferdinand’s of Prussia. We drove there together, and were received by the host in the most courteous manner. We there found a brilliant circle of decorated gentlemen and fashionably dressed ladies, as also the principal artistes of Berlin. I met there, also, a former acquaintance of Hamburgh, the celebrated Pianist-Virtuoso and Composer Dussek, who was now Instructor to the Prince, and resided in his house. The music commenced with a Piano-Quartett, which was executed by him with real artistic brilliancy. It was now my turn. Made wise by my recent experience, I only selected such compositions, as I could shine in as Violinist, namely: a Quartett, and the G-Major-Variations of Rode. My play met with the most enthusiastic applause, and Dussek in particular, seemed delighted with it. My loved Rosa, also won general admiration by her execution of an aria, in which she was accompained by Dussek on the piano.

After the conclusion of the music, the Prince offered his arm to one of the Ladies present, and led the company who at a sign from him had done the same, to the dining room, where a splendid supper had been laid out. Each gentleman without ceremony took his place by the side of his lady; and I by the side of my dear fellow-traveller. At first the conversation though free and unembarrassed was yet marked with decorum. But when the champagne began to circulate, many things were heard not suited for the chaste ears of an innocent girl. As soon therefore as my observation had led me to infer that the supposed distinguished ladies did not belong to the Court as I had believed, but more probably to the Ballet, I began to think of withdrawing unperceived from the company, with my fellow-traveller. I succeeded also, without being remarked or prevented, in making good our retreat; and reaching my carriage, I returned with Rosa to her expecting mother. The next day I was told that the Prince’s Music-parties generally ended in similar orgies.

I still remember an other Music-party—it was at the house of the Banker Beer—where I heard for the first time, the now so celebrated Meyerbeer, play in his paternal house, then but a boy of thirteen years of age. The talented lad already then excited so much attention by his accomplished execution on the piano-forte, that his relatives and admirers regarded him with the greatest pride. It is related, that, one of these on returning from a Lecture on popular Astronomy exclaimed full of joy to the boy’s parents “Only think! our Beer has been already placed among the Constellations! The Professor shewed us a constellation, which in honour of him is called “the little Beer!”[6]

I conceived the shrewd idea of inviting the young virtuoso to perform a Solo in my Concert, this was willingly assented to by the family. As it was the boy’s first appearance in public, it drew a crowd of his admirers, and I may chiefly thank that circumstance for my concert having been one of the most numerously attended of a period that teemed with Musical performances. After overcoming numerous obstacles it eventually took place in the theatre. My playing, and the singing of my fair fellow traveller were received here as at Leipsic with great applause. Not so favorable however was the criticism that appeared in the new Musical Journal then but recently published by Reichard the Musical conductor of the Royal Orchestra. He animadverted in his own peculiar offensive manner chiefly upon my easy abandon in respect to Time.

Although I felt hurt by such an imputation, to which I was not yet accustomed, I was obliged to confess that yielding to my depth of feeling, I had kept back in the Cantabile, perhaps, too much, and in the Passages and more impassioned parts carried away by my youthful fire, I had precipitated them too much. I therefore determined to correct such blemishes in my execution without diminishing its force of expression, and by unremitting attention I succeeded.

After several unavailing attempts to give a second concert in Berlin, I was compelled to abandon the idea. I therefore divided the not unconsiderable receipts of the first, with my fellow-traveller, and began to think of my return to Brunswick, as the period of my leave of absence was drawing to a close. Rosa’s mother also made preparations to return home, having failed in an endeavour to procure an engagement for her daughter at the Italian Opera in Berlin.

Rosa had daily evinced an increasing attraction towards me, and manifested her partiality without disguise. I, on the contrary, on a nearer acquaintance, was obliged to confess to myself that she was not suited for a partner in life for me, and I therefore carefully avoided being betrayed into any declaration. She was it is true, an amiable, unspoiled girl, and richly endowed by nature; but her education, apart from the polish of social forms, had been greatly neglected, and what was more especially displeasing to me, was her bigotted piety, which had once even led her to attempt the conversion of the Lutheran heretic to the only true Church of salvation. I bore the parting with tolerable self-controul; but Rosa burst into tears, and with the last embrace pressed into my hand a card with the letter R, worked upon it with her beautiful black hair, as a souvenir.

Upon my return to Brunswick, I devoted myself with renewed zeal to Composition. I wrote my H-Minor-Concerto, which was subsequently published by Simrock as Fourth Violin-Concerto. For the first time, a foreign pupil was sent to me, one Herr Grünewald from Dresden. During my stay in Brunswick, I also gave lessons to a Miss Mayer, a talented young lady of sixteen, who as Violiniste gave several concerts at Brunswick with much applause; under my direction she studied my concerto in D-Minor. This pupil, after a lapse of five and twenty years, during which time I had heard nothing more of her, suddenly excited a general interest, as much on account of her fate, as of her accomplished execution on the violin.

On one of her earlier artistic-tours, when in Poland, she had there married a landed-proprietor of considerable fortune. Although then in affluent circumstances, she never neglected the further cultivation of her great talent, though only as amateur. This enabled her, after her husband had lost his whole fortune in the Polish revolution, and had become a refugee, to support herself and her daughter. As Madame Filipowicz, she again made her appearance as an artiste, in Dresden, and played there the same D-Minor-Concerto she had studied under me five and twenty years before. As she considered that she was chiefly indebted for her now increasing success to her rendering of that Concerto, she felt impelled to express her thanks to her former Instructor in a letter. It was thus I became acquainted with the above circumstances. After her artistic-tour through Germany, she settled in Paris, and at a later period in London. From both places I received several letters from her. Upon my last journey but one to London, when I had hoped to have seen her again, I was informed that she had died a few days before my arrival, and I only made the acquaintance of her daughter, and of her husband, who was a Doctor, and also a Polish refugee.

But to return to the year 1805. In the spring, I received a letter from Rosa, in which with her ingenuous simplicity she said, that, so great had her longing become to see me again, that she had prevailed on her father to make an artistic tour to Brunswick; that she would arrive in a few days, and begged me to make the preliminary arrangements for a concert. I was not best pleased with this intelligence, and foresaw that great embarrassments might arise from it. I now perceived with regret that Rosa’s inclination towards me was much more earnest than I had beleived, and I reproached myself bitterly for my conduct towards her. It was also evident to me, that her father had only undertaken this journey to bring me to some declaration in respect to his daughter. I therefore looked forward to their arrival with great anxiety. But everything passed off much better than I had anticipated. Rosa’s heartfelt joy, to see me again, her lively unsuspecting simplicity, which did not permit her to feel the least doubt of a reciprocity of her feelings, assisted me to the avoidance of any explanation. Thus, after a fortnight’s stay, they left Brunswick and returned to Dresden, very satisfied with their visit, and the brilliant Concert which my assistance obtained for them; and it was arranged that I should visit them after my projected journey to Vienna, in the autumn.

As they wished to return by way of Göttingen, I gave them a letter of introduction to my parents. During a stay of several days with my parents, Rosa so won their hearts by her amiability, that with unhesitating confidence she confessed her love for their son. Concluding from this, that I returned her affection, my parents had embraced her as my betrothed. I was greatly allarmed when I learned this in a letter from my father; protested against this engagement, and assigned as ground for my refusal, Rosa’s want of education, and the difference in our religious faith. My father would not see the matter in this light, and repeatedly declared that I was a fool, to refuse so charming a girl.

In June 1805, I received a letter from Bärwolf, a Musician of the Ducal Orchestra at Gotha, who was unknown to me, that greatly influenced my destiny. Herr Bärwolf wrote to inform me of a vacancy that had taken place in the Orchestra there, by the death of the Director Ernst, and that the Intendant, Baron von Leibnitz, who had read so favorable a notice of my performances in the Leipsic Musical-Journal, was very desirous to recommend me to that post, if I would make immediate application for it. But, for this, it was required that I should repair personally to Gotha. He therefore invited me to come and play at the Concert that was to take place at Court on the 11. July, in celebration of the birth-day of the dutchess.

Extremely pleased at this, I hastened to the Duke, to request his consent to my journey. I received it, and immediately announced this at Gotha. Arrived there, Herr Bärwolf introduced me to the Intendant. The latter appeared astonished to see before him so young a man, and said with a thoughtful expression of countenance, that I appeared to him almost too young to place at the head of so many men, all older than myself. But after I had conducted two Overtures at the rehearsal, and executed my Concerto in D-Minor, the Herr Intendant, had quite changed his mind, for he requested me to conceal my real age, and to give myself out as four or five years older. I was therefore introduced to the Court as a competitor for the situation, of twenty fours years of age. But the resort to such a deceit was indeed scarcely requisite to obtain it, for on my first appearance at the Court-Concert I won the favour of the Dutchess so completely, that the other competitors were all obliged to retire. By a Decree of the 5. August, 1805, I was installed as Concert-Director to the Ducal Court of Gotha, with a salary of nearly five hundred thalers, inclusive of allowances, my service duties to commence on the 1. October.

As my leave of absence was not quite expired, by the advice of Herr Bärwolf, before returning to Brunswick, I made a little excursion to Wilhelmsthal near Eisenach, the family seat of the Court of Weimar. With the recommendation of the Dutchess of Gotha it was easy for me to obtain a hearing. I played, pleased greatly, and on leaving, received a handsome present. On my return to Gotha, I gave in haste, a Concert that had been meanwhile arranged for there, which was also attended by the Court, and then set out on my return to my native town highly gratified with the result of my journey. I went by way of Seesen, and was joyfully congratulated by my parents and the friends of my family upon the new dignity conferred upon me. In order to make the rest of the journey more pleasant for me, my father lent me his saddle-horse, and thus conduced to give my hitherto prosperous journey a tragical end; for a few leagues from Brunswick, while riding homewards at a sharp trot, absorbed in deep thought upon the future, and paying but little attention to the road, the horse fell, his foot having caught in a deep rut, and threw his rider rudely to the ground. I fell over the horse’s head with my face upon a small heap of broken road-stones, before I could spread out my hands sufficiently to break my fall; my face was therefore cut in such a manner by the sharp stones, that the blood flowed profusely. In a few minutes also, the wounds became so swollen as almost to close my eyes. Half blind, and wholly unable to help myself, I stood in the road, until at length some foot-passengers came to my assistance. After they had caught my horse, they led me to the nearest village. They there procured for me a four wheeled peasant’s-cart, with straw spread out in it, upon which I was brought in the most deplorable condition to my lodgings at a late hour in the evening. A Doctor having been sent for, he ordered my face to be bathed and bound with linen-rags steeped in Goulard water, which being continued throughout the night, the swelling had so much subsided by the morning, that I could again open my eyes. After the Doctor had carefully examined my face, and allayed my anxiety respecting all further results from my fall; I soon recovered my cheerfulness of mood, and alone lamented that I could not immediately wait upon my noble Patron to solicit his permission to accept the situation of the Directorship. But as meanwhile I was not without some anxiety, lest my benefactor, to whom I was so greatly indebted, might take it ill that I could thus leave his service, I was rather pleased that my accident furnished me with an excuse to address a letter to the duke. But I had judged him wrongfully; for on the following day I received the solicited permission in his own handwriting. I have carefully preserved that letter as a cherished Memorial, and cannot deny myself the pleasure of quoting it here, as follows:

My dear Herr Spohr.

I have read with much interest the successful result of your performance at Wilhelmsthal and Gotha. The advantageous offer made to you at Gotha is such as your talents well merit, and as I have always taken great interest in your fortune and success, I can but congratulate you on your appointment to a position where you will undoubtedly find more opportunity for the exercise of your talent.

I remain very respectfully
your well wisher
Carl W. Ferd.

Releived now of my last anxiety, I was truly happy. But it occurred to me, that in this letter, the Duke addressed me for the first time “You”, while hitherto he had always honoured me with the benevolent, fatherly “Thou”. I nevertheless consoled myself readily with the reflexion, that the Duke might have thought it more becoming so to address a person leaving his service.

In about a fortnight or three weeks, my face was so far healed, that I could again announce myself ready to resume my orchestral duties.

Before I had done so, I received a letter from Dussek, who wrote to say that his master, Prince Louis Ferdinand, was about to proceed to the grand military manoeuvres at Magdeburg, and wished that I should be his guest during that time, in order to give my assistance at the projected Music-parties there. The Prince would himself write to the Duke to solicit the leave of absence for me. This was immediately granted. I therefore proceeded to Magdeburg, and found in the house which the Prince had taken for himself and his suite, a room also, for me. I now led an extraordinary, wild and active life, which nevertheless suited my youthful taste right well for a short time. Frequently at six o’clock in the morning, were Dussek and I roused from our beds and conducted in dressing-gown and slippers to the Reception-saloon, where the Prince was already seated at the pianoforte in yet lighter costume, the heat being then very great, and indeed, generally in his shirt and drawers only. Now began the practice and rehearsal of the music that was intended to be played in the evening circles, and from the Prince’s zeal, this lasted frequently so long, that in the meantime the saloon was filled with Officers decorated, and bestarred. The costume of the Musicians contrasted then somewhat strangely with the brilliant uniforms of those who had come to pay their court to the Prince. But this did not trouble his Royal Highness in the least, neither would he leave off until everything had been practised to his satisfaction. Then we finished our toilet in all haste, snatched as hasty a breakfast, and rode off to the review. I had a horse appropriated to me from the Prince’s stud, and was permitted to ride with his suite. In this manner for a time to my great amusement, I took part in all the warlike evolutions. But, one day I found myself jammed in close to a battery, where I was obliged to endure for more than an hour a truly hellish-noise, and when in the evening at the Music party I found that I could not hear so distinctly as before, I held back from the warlike spectacle and from that time spent those hours in which the Prince did not require me, with my former acquaintances in Magdeburg. In the house of the Privy Counsellor Schäfer I met with a most friendly welcome. His daughter Jettchen, who, previously, while residing in Brunswick, in the house of her brother-in-law the Conductor Le Gaye had been an object of my admiration, was now returned to her paternal home, and here also performed the part of a kind and attentive hostess to me.

Soon, however, the Prince was recalled from his exile to Magdeburg, and dismissed by him with friendly thanks, I could now return to Brunswick. Dussek on taking leave of me, told me that the Prince had intended to have made me a present, but that his purse was at so low an ebb, he must postpone it to a later and more favorable time. But that time never came; for the Prince found an early death in the following year in an action near Saalfeld. In the beginning of October, after an honourable discharge from the Duke’s service had been duly made out for me, I left my native town. On my taking leave, the Duke said to me with truly paternal benevolence, as he extended his hand to me: “should you dear Spohr find your new place unpleasant to you, you can re-enter my service at any time.”

I parted with my benefactor, deeply moved; and alas! never saw him more,—for as is well known he fell mortally wounded at the unfortunate battle of Jena, and died a fugitive in a foreign land. I mourned for him, as for a father.

Arrived in Gotha, I was introduced to the members of the Ducal Orchestra by the Intendant Baron von Leibnitz, as Concert-Director, and made acquainted with my sphere of duties. This consisted, both in winter and summer, in the arrangement of a concert at Court every week, and in practising and rehearsing the orchestra in the music chosen for the occasion. As the orchestra had no other duties beyond these concerts, I was enabled to have three or four rehearsals of each, and to practise all that was to be performed at these with the greatest precision. By my zeal, and the good-will of the members, I soon succeeded in attaining an exceeding accuracy of ensemble which was recognised by the Dutchess and some of the Musical-connoisseurs in the Court-circle, and elicited much praise.

The orchestra consisted in part of musicians of the Ducal Chamber, and in part of Court-hautboyists. It was the duty of the latter to play also during the repasts, and at Court-balls. Among the musicians of the Chamber, there was a whole bevy of solo-players. The chief were: on the violin, Madame Schlick and Messrs. Preissing and Bärwolf; on the violoncello, Messrs. Schlick, Preissing jun. and Rohde; on the clarionet, bassoon and harp, Herr Backhofen; on the hautboy, Herr Hofmann; and Herr Walch on the horn.

For the vocal parts at the Court-Concerts two Court-singers Mesdames Scheidler and Reinhard were engaged. The husband of the latter accompained the vocalists on the piano-forte. Being the oldest member of the orchestra, he had warmly competed for the vacant post of Conductor; and as the Duke’s musical instructor, some regard was due to him; he also, therefore, had the title of Concert-Master conferred upon him on my appointment, and his rescript was even of anterior date to mine. For this reason he at first made some weak attempts, to assume the direction of the vocal performances. But I knew so well how to overawe him by my decisive bearing as first Violin, that he soon succumbed as willingly to my lead at the pianoforte, as at the viol, on which he performed in the instrumental music. I was also soon enabled to overcome the opposition of the Schlick family who relied on the favour of Prince Augustus, the Duke’s uncle, and then undisturbedly maintained my directorial-position.

In the introductory visits I made to the members of the orchestra I was received most cordially by the Court-singer Madame Scheidler. She introduced me to her daughter Dorette, of the age of eighteen, of whose skill upon the harp and pianoforte I had already heard much. In this charming blondine I recognised the girl whom I had seen on my first visit to Gotha, and whose pleasing form had since then frequently recurred to my memory. At the Concert which I then gave in that town, she had sat in the first row of the auditory, by the side of a female friend, who upon my appearance, astonished at so tall a figure, exclaimed rather louder than she had intended: “Just look, Dorette, what a long hop-pole!” Upon hearing this exclamation, my eye fell upon the girls, and I saw Dorette blush with embarrassment. With a similar graceful blush she now again stood before me, probably recollecting that circumstance. To put an end therefore to a situation so painful to me, I entreated her to play something on the harp. Without the least affectation she complied with my wish.

When a boy, I had myself once made an attempt to learn the harp, and took lessons of one Herr Hasenbalg in Brunswick, when I soon got so far as to be able to accompany my songs. But after my voice had broken, and that for a considerable time I remained without any voice at all, the harp was neglected, and at length wholly laid aside. My predilection for that instrument had nevertheless remained the same; and I had given my attention to it sufficiently long, to know, how difficult it is, if one would play more than mere accompaniments upon it. My astonishment and delight may therefore be imagined, when I heard so young a girl execute a difficult “Fantasia” of her instructor Backofen, with the greatest confidence, and with the finest shades of expression. I was so deeply moved, that I could scarce restrain my tears. Bowing in silence, I took my leave;—but my heart remained behind! Irresistibly impelled, my visits now became frequent, and my reception more friendly every time.

I accompanied the daughter on the piano, which she played with the same excellence as the harp, assisted the mother in the practise of her songs for the Court-Concerts, and so made myself more and more necessary to the family. The first piece that I composed in Gotha, was a grand “Vocal Scena” for a soprano voice, which I dedicated to Dorette’s mother, and which she sang with great applause at one of the Court-Concerts. For myself and the daughter, I then wrote a Concerted Sonata for violin and harp, which I practised with her in the most careful manner. They were happy hours!

Thus, after my arrival, had a month passed away for me in the most agreable manner, when the Court set out for the session of Parliament at Altenburg and took the orchestra with it. Dorette also accompanied her mother thither. I offered myself to them as a travelling-companion, but unfortunately made my application too late, for they had already arranged to travel in company with Messrs. Preissing, the brothers of Madame Scheidler. I was therefore obliged to seek other travelling-companions; but at every place where we stopped to take refreshment I did not fail to join immediately the Scheidler family, and always contrived to get possession of the place at table next to Dorette. These meetings after a separation of four or five hours, gave a peculiar charm to the otherwise long and tedious journey, so much so indeed, that when at length on the evening of the third day we entered the gates of Altenburg, it seemed too short to me. I was lodged in the house of Secretary Brummer who as a great lover of music had begged that I might become his guest. I met with the most friendly reception and a well furnished table. But I had previously arranged to dine always at Madame Scheidler’s, who like an active housewife had immediately established a kitchen of her own, for herself and brothers. Henceforth, treated almost like a member of the family, I had full opportunity to become more nearly acquainted with my beloved Dorette. Her father, an excellent musician, and a man of scientific attainments, had, up to his death, which had taken place two years before, devoted himself entirely to the education and improvement of this daughter. With an almost extreme severity he had compelled her not only from her earliest childhood to pursue the study of Music, but also, instructed her, in part personally, and partly through the medium of other able teachers in every branch of education suitable to a young female. She therefore spoke Italian and French with the greatest fluency and wrote her mother tongue with ease and correctness. But her brilliant execution both on the harp and pianoforte was already then despite her youth, truly remarkable! Yes, even upon the violin on which instrument her uncle Preissing gave her instruction, she had acquired so much skill, that she could play Viotti’s Duetts with me. But as I advised her to discontinue the practise of that instrument so unbecoming for females, and to devote rather her undivided study to the two others, she adopted my advice and from that moment gave it up.

Meanwhile the Court-concerts had commenced. They took place in a large saloon in the Palace, very favourable for music, and together with the Court were attended by the parliamentary Deputies and by the dignitaries of the town. The orchestra, as well as the performances both of myself and the other soloplayers met with great applause. Dorette’s Soli’s on the harp and piano made also a great sensation. In this manner the concert-days were soon looked forward to by the Altenburgers as real festival days, and the auditory encreased so much in number each time, that at length there was scarcely room for their accommodation. There were also many private Music-parties, at which I and the members of the Scheidler family never failed to be invited. One day, however, I was invited with Dorette, but without her mother, to a Fête given by the Minister von Thümmel, to the Court and its immediate circle. We were requested to reproduce my Sonata for the harp und violin, which we had already played with great success at the Court-concerts. With some timidity I ventured to ask whether I might fetch Dorette in the carriage, and felt delighted beyond measure, when her mother without hesitation gave her consent. Thus alone for the first time with the beloved girl, I felt the impulse to make a full confession of my feelings towards her; but my courage failed me, and the carriage drew up, before I had been able to utter a syllable. As I held out my hand to her to alight, I felt by the tremor of hers, how great had also been her emotion. This gave me new courage, and I had almost plumped out with my declaration of love upon the very stairs, had not the door of the Reception-saloon been thrown open at the same moment.

That evening we played with an inspiration and a sympathy of feeling that not alone carried us wholly away, but so electrified the company also, that all rose spontaneously, and gathering round us, overwhelmed us with praise. The Dutchess whispered some words in Dorette’s ear, which brought blushes to her cheek.

I interpreted them as favorable to me, and now on the drive home I at length found courage to say: “Shall we thus play together for life?” Bursting into tears, she sank into my arms; the compact for life was sealed! I led her to her mother, who joined our hands and gave us her blessing.

The next morning I announced my happiness to my parents. But before I could enjoy it without alloy, I felt compelled to write another letter, and one which was to me a most disagreable task. I felt the injustice of my conduct towards Rosa, and the necessity to ask her forgiveness. I had it is true, never made a declaration of my love to her; but it had been but too apparent in the earlier period of our acquaintance. To that was added moreover, the circumstance that, my parents had greeted her in Seesen as my betrothed. What the arguments were that I resorted to in exculpation of my injustice, I no longer remember at this distance of time. Probably I may have again adverted to the difference of religion, which could alone serve me as excuse for my withdrawal. The letter was at length finished; and with a lightened heart I took it to the post. I anxiously expected an answer; but none came. At a later period I learned that Rosa had returned to Italy with her parents who had acquired some fortune in Germany. Some years afterwards, I was told when in Dresden, that Rosa, led by her devotional turn of mind, had retired to a convent, and after the year’s novitiate had taken the veil. I never could think of that charming maiden without sentiments of the deepest sorrow!

At the dinner-table on the following day all appeared in full dress; it was to celebrate our betrothal. The news of this had soon spread through the town, and not only the members of the Ducal orchestra, but also many of the inhabitants of the place came to felicitate the engaged couple. At the next concert the same took place on the part of the Dutchess and the Court.

With the end of the year, the session of Parliament drew also to a close, and the return of the Court to Gotha was already spoken of, when I solicited an eight day’s leave of absence to go to Leipsic in order to give a concert there. Preparatory to that, I had already made enquiries of my friends of the foregoing year, and received from them the most favorable assurances. My bride, and her mother accompanied me, to appear also in the same concert. This therefore offered a diversity of attraction to the public, and consequently the attendance was very numerous. I played a new Violin-Concerto in C-Major (published by Kühnel as the third) which I had begun in Gotha and finished at Altenburg. Both my playing and composition found as warm a reception as in the previous year. My bride also met with the most enthusiastic applause. She played Backhofen’s Fantasia, and with me the new Sonata. On this occasion, it was again our combined play that was considered the most brilliant performance of the evening. The mother, a singer possessed of a powerful, pleasing tone, and of a good school, executed, accompanied by her daughter, the aria of Mozart with Pianoforte obligato, as also, my new vocal-Scena, with great success.

Highly satisfied with the result of our undertaking, we returned to Altenburg, and shortly afterwards with the Court to Gotha.

Madame Scheidler resided there in a very roomy and well furnished house, of which without feeling in the least inconvenienced, she could readily give up to me an apartment or two. As she offered to take my brother Ferdinand who as my pupil lived with me, together with ourselves as boarders, nothing therefore stood in the way of my immediate marriage. The wedding was accordingly fixed for the 2. February, 1806. I hastened therefore, to procure the documents, requisite for the occasion, my certificate of baptism, and the consent of my parents. To my regret, they were unable to bring this to me in person, as my father dare not leave his patients, some of whom were dangerously ill, but they sent my brother William[7] to be a witness to my happiness.

It created no little astonishment when I produced my certificate of baptism, that instead of growing older in Gotha, I had become several years younger! But as I had already sufficiently established my authority as Concert-Director I experienced no subsequent prejudice from this discovery.

The ardently desired 2. February, dawned at length. At the request of the Dutchess who wished to be present, the marriage took place in the Palace-chapel. Upon the conclusion of the ceremony the newly married pair received the felicitations and wedding-presents of their illustrious Patroness. At home, we found assembled as wedding-guests, the two uncles Preissing and several other of the most intimate friends among the members of the Ducal orchestra, as also Cantor Schade, an old friend of the Scheidler family. After dinner many others came. Among these the playmates and school-fellows of Dorette. All brought with them their friendly gifts. Neither was she wanting who had compared me to a hop-pole, and as punishment for the unbecoming comparison, she was frequently obliged to endure a little raillery. As the weather was too unfavourable for an excursion, or promenade, music was kept up till a late hour in the evening.

In the midst of Music also, the happy pair passed the honeymoon. I began forthwith a diligent study of the harp, in order to ascertain thoroughly what was best adapted to the character of the instrument. As I was prone to a richness of modulation in my compositions, it was therefore requisite to make myself especially well acquainted with the pedals of the harp, so as to write nothing that would be impracticable for them. This could not readily occur, on account of the great accuracy with which my wife had already then mastered the whole Technics of the instrument. I therefore gave free play to my fancy, and soon succeeded in obtaining wholly new effects from the instrument.

As the Harp sounded most advantageously in combination with the singing tones of my Violin, I wrote more especially Concerted compositions for both instruments alone. At a later period, it is true, I made trial, also, of two Concertanti with Orchestral accompaniment, and of a Trio for Harp, Violin and Violoncello; but as I found that every Accompaniment only disturbed our mutual and deeply felt harmony of action, I soon abandoned it.

Another attempt to obtain a greater effect, had however, a more successful result. I conceived the idea of pitching the harp half a tone lower than the violin. By so doing I gained in two ways. For, as the violin sounds most brilliantly in the cross or sharp notes, but the harp best in the B-tones or flat notes, when the fewest pedals possible are moved; I thereby obtained for both instruments the most favourable and most effective key-notes: for the violin namely, D and G; for the harp E and A-flat. A second advantage was, that, from the lower tuning of the harp, a string would less frequently break, which in public performances in very warm rooms so frequently happens to the harpist, and mars the enjoyment of the hearers. From this time therefore, I wrote all my Compositions for harp and violin in that difference of the keys.

Dorette, forcibly attracted by these new Compositions, devoted at that time her attention exclusively to the study of the harp, and soon obtained such a brilliant execution, that I felt an eager desire to exhibit this before a larger public than that of the Court-concerts of Gotha. As I beleived also, to have now perfected my own Play in a manner such as no other could readily surpass, I resolved to set out on an Artistic tour with my wife in the ensuing autumn. I had already stipulated for such a leave of absence upon receiving my appointment, and it had been acceded to in consideration of my then small salary.

Meanwhile as the autumn drew near, a twofold obstacle presented itself to the execution of my cherished projects. The war between Prussia and France threatened to break out. The Prussian army prepared for the struggle, was already assembled in the neighbourhood of Gotha, and the inhabitants of the Dutchy had much to endure from the billeting, and overbearing insolence of the Prussians.

Even though I might have been able to take my journey in a direction that would have carried us from the tumult of war, yet when my home was in danger of becoming the scene of conflict, I could not well leave it in such an extremity. Then, one day, with blushing cheek and beaming eyes, my little wife imparted to me that towards the end of winter she looked forward to a mother’s joys. Now, therefore, indeed it was no longer possible to think of undertaking a journey, and all hesitation on the subject was set at rest. I therefore bethought me of some engrossing work that would distract my attention as much as possible from all the anxieties of the times. I had long wished to try my hand at a Dramatic composition; but I had never yet found a favourable opportunity. Neither, indeed, did that present itself now, for Gotha possessed no Theatre. Yet, I thought; if the opera were once written, some opportunity to hear it might yet present itself. Just at that time, I received a visit from a companion of my youth Edward Henke my mother’s youngest brother, afterwards Professor of Jurisprudence at the university of Halle, who had already met with some success in lyrical compositions. I persuaded him to write the words of an opera for me. We cogitated together the subject-matter, and the scenes, of a one act Opera, to which we gave the Name of “Die Prüfung” (The Trial). Edward began forthwith the composition of the Song-parts and finished them wholly before his departure. He promised to supply the dialogue afterwards.

But before I could begin my work, the storm of war broke loose. The battle of Jena had been fought; and with that, the fate of Prussia decided. The Prussians who had lain in and around Gotha, and who but shortly before had been so-overbearing in their demeanour were now seen flying in the greatest confusion. The disorganisation of their troops was so complete, that their arms were to be found in thousands strewn over the fields near Gotha. In a walk I took a few days afterwards, I found as a further gleaning, a ramrod, which I took home with me as a reminiscence of that fatal day. Suspended from a thread it gave with a clear sound the note B, once struck, and served me for many years instead of a tuning-fork when tuning the harp.

Although after the advance of the French army in pursuit, the theatre of war was soon removed farther and farther from Gotha; yet the quartering of troops upon the inhabitants was no less continuous. Fresh reinforcements of French and South-German troops were constantly moved forward in support; and a greater part of the Prussian prisoners taken at Jena, was brought through Gotha. These came in bodies of from 3 to 4000 men of all arms, frequently escorted by 40 or 50 voltigeurs, only, and were shut up in the great Church on the market place, opposite to our dwelling, with merely a few sentries mounting guard over them before the closed doors. As the nights were already very cold, the men in their thin uniforms must indeed have been nearly frozen. For that reason also they kept up a continual noise and outcry. The inhabitants of the houses in the neighbourhood, in constant dread that the prisoners from their greatly superior numbers would liberate themselves, were obliged to keep continually on the watch, and for many nights together could not retire to rest.

This, therefore, was by no means the most propitious time for me to attempt a style of composition that was quite new to me. But as my study was situated near the garden, at a distance from the noise in the streets, I soon succeeded in forgetting every thing around me, and gave myself up heart and soul to my work. In this manner, before half the winter had passed, I completed the composition of the 8 “Numbers” of the Opera, together with the Overture. The four Song-parts in these, permitted of being well rendered by the Female Court-singers and two Dillettanti whose assistance I had already obtained for the Court-concerts. I therefore had the opera written out with all despatch, practised it carefully, and then played it as Concert-Music at one of the Court-concerts.

Great as at first was my satisfaction with the new work, I nevertheless soon became sensible of its deficiencies, and weak points. With every successive rehearsal these were made more clear to me, and even before its production in public took place, the Opera (with the exception of the Overture and one aria for a tenor-voice) had become distasteful to me. Even the great applause it had met with from those who executed it, and those who heard it, could not reconcile me the more to it; so that I laid it aside, and with the exception of the two “Numbers” mentioned, I never played any thing more of it in public. But with this feeling of dissatisfaction with my work I was truly unhappy; for I now thought to perceive that I had no talent for Operatic compositions. There were, however, two things which I had forgotten duly to consider; first, that I had assumed a much too elevated style, for I had put my Opera upon a par with those of Mozart, and secondly, that I was wholly wanting in the practice and experience requisite for this kind of composition. This did not occur to me till some years afterwards, and encouraged me then to make another attempt at dramatic composition.

For the present, I again devoted myself wholly to Instrumental composition; wrote the already mentioned Concertanti for Harp and Violin with full orchestra; a Fantasia (op. 35) and Variations (op. 36) for Harp-Solo; and, for myself, my Fifth Violin Concerto (op. 17. published by Nägeli of Zurich) and the Pot-Pourri (op. 22, at André’s in Offenbach).

As Dorette anticipated her confinement in the spring, it was impossible we could remain longer in the limited accommodation of her mother’s house, and we were now obliged to furnish a house of our own. This took place at Easter 1807.

Shortly after, on the 27. May, we were gladdened by the birth of a little daughter. I now had to invite the Duke as Godfather to the new-born, he having already previously offered himself for that post of honour. On the day of the Christening, he made his appearance, in the full splendour of his Ducal rank, accompanied by the dignitaries of his Court and followed by the idlers of the town, who attracted by the grandeur of the rarely used state carriage and its occupants, stared with astonishment to see it draw up before my house, at the door of which I received him, and conducted him to the apartment decorated with garlands of flowers. The ceremony began, and the new-born was christened Emilie, after the Duke’s second Name, Emilius.

To my great regret, my parents could not take part in this delightful family festival. And yet, in the previous summer, when on a visit at Seesen, I had introduced my dear wife to them, and had the gratification to see not only that they soon evinced much affection for her, but the satisfaction also, that my father was obliged to admit I might not have been so happy with Rosa, even had my love for her been more lasting.

As soon as Dorette had fully regained her strength, she began anew to practise the recently finished compositions for the Harp, in order to prepare herself for our projected artistic tour. But while thus engaged, she became more and more convinced of the defects of the instrument she had hitherto used, a Strasburg pedal-harp, which she had received as a present from the Dutchess. It was therefore decided in a family consultation, to apply a small capital appertaining to her as inheritance, to the purchase of another, and a better harp. Herr Backofen, had such an instrument, a very superior one, by Nadermann of Paris, and was disposed to part with it to his pupil for a moderate price. This, therefore, was purchased. Of Dorette’s small inheritance there yet remained a few hundred thalers, to expend in the acquisition of an indispensible convenience for travelling, namely a travelling-carriage, constructed at the same time for the transport of the harp. For a considerable time I turned over in my mind the form of build best adapted to this purpose. There were two things that required especial consideration; first, that it should not be too expensive, and secondly that it should be sufficiently light for one pair of post-horses. At length I hit upon the right plan. I ordered a long, but not too heavy Basket-carriage to be built, with a chaise compartment behind for the travellers. In front of this between the basket-sides, lay the box for the harp, slung by leather straps, and covered with a leather apron, which fastened by means of a bar of iron hooking into the chaise-seat in front of the occupants. Under this was a seat-box to hold the violin-case, and behind it a larger one to contain a trunk adapted to the space, in which all the other travelling requisites could be packed. In front, above the harp-box, was the raised seat for the driver. A trial trip, for which the carriage was completely packed, shewed that it fully answered the object proposed. Thus, therefore, every thing was in readiness for our artistic tour.

After a painful leave-taking of our child, of whom my mother-in-law undertook the care, we set out on our journey, in the middle of October. As I unfortunately kept no diary upon this and our subsequent journey from Gotha, I am left wholly to my somewhat faint recollections of that period, which have been but sparingly refreshed by a few notices in the Leipsic Musical-Journal. Of a diary kept by my wife at that period, but which she never let me see, I have neither been able to find anything since her death. Probably, it was destroyed by her in after years.

On the very first day, our journey began in a very ominous manner, by the overturning of our carriage at a place between Erfurt and Weimar, where there was at that time no paved high-road. Fortunately, however, neither the travellers nor their instruments were injured, we therefore considered ourselves very fortunate to have escaped with the fright only. No such accident re-occurred to us on any of our numerous journeys. In Weimar, whither we took letters of introduction from the Dutchess of Gotha, we played at Court with great applause, and received a munificent present from the Hereditary Grand Dutchess, the Princess Maria. Among the auditory at the Court-Concert were the two Poet-heros Goethe and Wieland. The latter seemed quite charmed with the play of the artiste-couple, and evinced it in his own animated and friendly manner. Goethe, also, addressed a few words of praise to us with a dignified coldness of mien.