Chronological Index of Contents. (continued 12)

The Elector, to whose ears doubtless many disquieting reports had come, and who could place no dependance on his troops (many of whom, as at a latter period was shown, desired a constitution) for the protection of his palace and the successful suppression of the revolution, gave, to the universal joy of the people a satisfactory reply. Scarcely had the waving of the white handkerchief announced this to the populace, than the assembled thousands upon the Friedrichsplatz rent the air with deafening cheers of Long live the Elector! upon which he shewed himself for a moment at one of the windows, and acknowledged them with several bows. In the evening the town was spontaneously illuminated, and at the theatre, instead of the previously announced piece of the “Ahnfrau” the “Barber of Seville” was chosen, and the public in their delight at the appearance of the Elector and his son before the beginning of the opera, greeted him with tumultuous cheers, and struck up the “Hail to the elector Wilhelm.” This was followed on the 19th of September by the promised summoning of the ancient estates of Hesse, consisting of deputies from the nobles, the towns, the universities and the peasantry, who assembled on the 16th October, and immediately promulgated a satisfactory report to the people. On the following day the opening of the assembly of the states was celebrated by the performance of divine service in the great church, and by command of the government by a solemn choral hymn sung by the society of St. Cecilia accompanied by the court orchestra. For this occasion I selected the last “number” of my cantata composed in Vienna, “Die Befreiung Deutschlands” (The emancipation of Germany), with its solo-quartet, and the concluding fugue: “Lasset uns den Dankgesang erheben” (Let us raise the song of thanks), a four-voice choral piece which was alternately sung, with the congregation, and the Halleluja from Händel’s Messiah.

The propositions brought forward by the estates, after several weeks’ discussion between the electoral commissaries and the deputies, were with various additions and modifications, admitted as basis of the new constitution of the state as well as for the propositions made by the Elector respecting a fixed amount for a civil list, and division of the whole of the state revenues, which besides had been chiefly accumulated from the sale of the men taken into the pay of the English to fight against the revolted North-American colonies during the time of the Elector Friedrich II. The 9th January 1831 was the day fixed for the promulgation of the new constitution, and on the evening of the day before, the Electress came back with her daughter Caroline from Fulda, where she had been residing for some time past, in order to be present at this joyful event. The elector received her upon his arrival at her residence in the Belle-vue palace, and I received order from the officer of the lord marshal of the court, to give the reconciled couple a serenade with the court orchestra. After I had held the rehearsal in the course of the afternoon for that purpose, I proceeded with the orchestra in exceedingly cold weather to the Belle-vue palace, and having ascertained the apartment in which the court was assembled we drew up outside and played as well as the extremely unfavourable weather would permit. Towards the end of the music the princely pair shewed themselves, the Elector embraced his wife at the window, and the inhabitants of Cassel, who in spite of the cold had collected in crowds, broke out into a loud cheer of joy. The next morning the public announcement of the new constitution was made, and the oaths were taken with due solemnity on the part of the civic-guard publicly upon the Königsplatz, on that of the military on the Friedrichsplatz, and by all the authorities, the court officials and the orchestra in their proper localities. In the evening the town was illuminated, and at the theatre, brilliantly lighted up, “Jessonda” was given as festive opera for the occasion, preceded by a play written for the occasion by counsellor Niemeyer. In the latter was introduced at the same time a hymn composed for it by me, “Hesse’s song of joy on the establishment of its constitution;” and at the conclusion, the well-known and previously mentioned melody, which, with appropriate words, was sung also by the audience, after which the latter greeted the electoral family assembled in the state box with a storm of cheers. Everybody now looked forward to a happy future; but unfortunately the Countess Reichenbach, with her brother Mr. Ortlepp, returned the day after to Wilhelmshöhe. This had no sooner become known in Cassel, as also that the elector had visited her there, than the disturbances immediately broke out afresh. Citizens and peasantry gathered in crowds before the palace at Wilhelmshöhe, and threatened aloud to drive the countess out by force, until it was at length ascertained that she had left for Hanau, and a public announcement was placarded in Cassel: “that the cause for the disturbance had been removed.” But a few weeks afterwards the Elector followed her, as it was thought to take up his residence altogether at Hanau.

Meanwhile at my house the construction of an additional building which had been begun the previous summer from a plan drawn by my son-in-law Wolff was completed. By this, in addition to somewhat more house-room, I obtained more particularly a music room such as we had long felt the want of for our quartet parties, which although closely adjoining the house itself, had nevertheless a higher roof, in order to give it the desired height. In its decoration also, the chief endeavour was to obtain a favourable acoustic arrangement, so as to dispense with all drapery over the windows and doors, which is so obstructive of sound. On the 2nd February 1831, we consecrated the newly-acquired space with the celebration of our “Silver Wedding”; at which my parents from Gandersheim were come to assist, and had brought with them as a present a porcelain vase richly ornamented with silver, upon which, besides the names of the donors, was engraved the inscription: “May the silver of to-day be one day gold!” This fete, properly speaking was got up by my children, in conjunction with our musical friends, and was opened by the torch-light dance from my “Faustus” executed by the guests, with appropriate words to the choral parts. This was followed by a succession of “Tableaux vivants,” in which the chief incidents of my life were ingeniously represented. Among many other poems both of comic and serious import, which were recited at table, my friend Pfeiffer had also contributed a composition with the view, that all the persons present should appear in the costume of the characters in my operas, and that K. Pfeiffer himself should recite the poem. This poem gave me great pleasure at the time, and its recital, with all its allusions, excited general merriment, and no one would have dreamed that its youthful author would be snatched in a few months by death from our circle. Early in the morning of the 31st July, while bathing in the river Fulda, he was struck with apoplexy, and his beautiful and diversified labours in literature were suddenly arrested for ever. For his obsequies I composed a solemn dirge for several voices, and subsequently, when the civil guard of this place had a monumental memorial erected over his early grave, upon its consecration the chorus from “The last things,” “Selig sind die Todten,” was sung by the St. Cecilia society with the assistance also of its female members, a circumstance which upon no previous occasion of the kind had ever taken place in Cassel. Dr. B. W. Pfeiffer, the father of the deceased, who previously had been known to me only in his official capacity as chief advocate of the court of appeal, visited me upon the occasion to thank me for my attention, and in this manner I first became personally intimate with him, to whom I was at a later period to be more nearly allied as son-in-law.

Unhappily that was the last family rejoicing which my brother Ferdinand lived to see. He shortly after fell so seriously ill that the physicians immediately pronounced him irrecoverable, and I was present a few days afterwards when he breathed his last. As his widow, in spite of all her solicitations, received no pension from the bureau of intendance, and was therefore reduced to the small income paid to her from the relief-fund which I had instituted a few years before, I set aside for her subsistence a yearly allowance, with the aid of which she was enabled to give a good education to both her children and to allow her son Ludwig, my godson, to prepare himself for his collegiate studies. After some years of diligent study, with a view of going to the university of Marburg, the young fellow returned to his earlier expressed desire to devote himself entirely to music. Upon a closer examination, however, this did not seem to me advisable, as it was now too late for him to acquire the necessary thorough musical education, and by my advice he adhered to his chosen profession of the law, passed a brilliant examination in 1847, and entered into the official service of the electorate of Hesse.

In the month of April in pursuance of the new constitution, the first assembly of the estates upon the basis of the new election law was summoned, and held its sittings in a saloon of the Belle-vue palace. Schomburg, the burgomaster of the capital, was unanimously chosen as its president, and the government did not dare oppose his nomination. As the sittings were public, this awakened immediately an active political vitality in the town, and the debates were followed up to the conclusion of the session with great interest by all classes. Professor Sylvester Jordan, the deputy from the Marburg university, soon distinguished himself by his eloquence, and he almost always succeeded in carrying through his liberal motions in the assembly.

In order to extend these liberal sentiments among the inhabitants of Cassel, some men well known for their liberal opinions considered it requisite to form a political club, under the name of the “reading museum,” and I willingly joined my exertions to theirs. At this place every afternoon during the session, the various subjects which had been discussed in the chamber were made known. The sittings of the deputies were often very stormy ones, though the chairman reprimanded the non-members every time they applauded a speaker, and threatened to have all disturbers turned out by the civic guard, yet the daily visitors at the sitting did not much care about it and still endeavoured to influence the voting. But the administration of public affairs suffered considerable detriment from the circumstance that the Elector had quitted his palace at Cassel since March, and taken up his residence permanently, at Hanau. As the assembled estates had failed in all their repeated efforts to persuade him to return to Cassel, they resolved towards the end of August, in conjunction with the town council of Cassel, to send a deputation to Hanau, with the proposition that the Elector should either return without delay to the capital or adopt means for the undisturbed administration of affairs. The deputy from Rinteln, Wiederhold, president of the high court of judicature, was one of the deputation, and he succeeded in inducing the Elector to take his son as co-regent with him in the government, and to transfer the administration of affairs to him exclusively so long as he himself remained away from Cassel. Thus the young Prince, after a long residence at Fulda, returned to Cassel as co-regent, together with the Countess Schaumburg, with whose morganatic marriage with his son the Elector now expressed himself reconciled. The Prince delivered to the estates a deed of agreement concerning the solemn maintenance of the constitutional laws, and was at first received at Cassel with satisfaction, particularly as he nominated the mediator, Wiederhold, minister of justice. But as it was soon observed that the Electress, on account of her refusal to acknowledge the Countess Schaumburg as her daughter-in-law, experienced many annoyances and affronts, considerable disapprobation was displayed in the town, and all classes generally sided with the amiable Electress, who by her kind sentiments and mild manners had for long years acquired the love and respect of the people of Hesse. As for me, I had, however, to congratulate myself on being in favour with the Prince at that time; and he requested me to make arrangements for giving him some court concerts at the palace of Wilhelmshöhe. Upon his returning shortly to the town he even requested me in a very courteous letter, to afford him and the Countess the pleasure of hearing some of my quartets, and to arrange for that purpose a quartet party at the palace. It would seem, however, to have been a somewhat tedious affair for them, for I never received a second invitation.

In the autumn 1831 I finished my “Violin-Schule” (course of instruction for the violin) a work which I had undertaken at the solicitation of many persons, and on which I was engaged for more than a twelvemonth, having always begun between-whiles some other compositions which had more attraction for me.[31]

I afterwards wrote three quartets, which were published as Op. 84, by André of Offenbach, and later for the St. Cecilia society three psalms of Moses Mendelsohn’s translation for two four-voice chorals and four solo-voices, which were published by Simrock of Bonn [Op. 85], and had an extensive circulation.

In the summer of 1832 I was ordered by my physician to proceed to the well-known warm sulphur baths of Nenndorf, to cure a stiffness in one of my knees, and which I had contracted the preceeding winter from a cold caught while skating. My wife, who accompanied me, had taken with her among other books, a volume of the poems of my friend Pfeiffer, which were not published till after his decease; and as I had long wished to set something from it to music in memory of him, I chose one of them: “Die Weihe der Töne,” which pleased me very much, and appeared to me particularly well suited for the composition of a cantata. But when I was about to begin the work, I found that the text of this style of poem did not lend itself altogether well to it; and I felt much more disposed to represent the subject matter of the poem in an instrumental-composition; in this manner originated my fourth symphony, under the title: “Die Weihe der Töne.” [In a letter to Speyer of the 9th October 1832, this is adverted to in the following words: “Although I have now no duties to perform at the theatre,[32] and have had leisure sufficient for composition, I have nevertheless been but little disposed latterly, to set to work. From the great interest which I took and still constantly take in the political regeneration of Germany, the recent retrograde steps have too much annoyed me to permit of my giving myself calmly to any work of deep study. Nevertheless I have again lately completed a grand instrumental composition, and that is a fourth symphony, but which differs greatly in form from the previous ones. It is a musical composition inspired by a poem of Karl Pfeiffer’s: “Die Weihe der Töne,” which must be printed, and distributed in the music room, or recited aloud before it is performed. In the very first part, I had for task, the construction of a harmonious whole from the sounds of nature. This, as indeed the whole work, was a difficult, but a highly attractive problem,” &c.]

My musical friends in Hannover, and friend Hausmann at the head of them, had no sooner become informed of my presence in Nenndorf, than they apprised me of their intention to pay me a visit, and to bring their instruments with them, so that I had an opportunity of giving the lovers of music then in Nenndorf a music-party, at which I played my recently written quartet. Meanwhile my cure was successfully completed, and I was relieved of my lameness of the knee, chiefly by a powerful but very painful douche upon the suffering part. Returned to Cassel, I first of all finished my new symphony, and let my friends hear it at a rehearsal, and subsequently at a subscription concert. I still recollect with pleasure the great effect it produced upon all who heard it. It was afterwards given with great applause at the Gewandhaus concert in Leipzic, and Rochlitz wrote a very animated notice of the work in his Musical Journal. None of my symphonies can boast of having achieved so wide a circulation in almost all the towns of Germany; it is still a favorite work, and in most permanent concerts is played at least once every year.

In April 1832, by order of the Prince, the court theatre was closed “for an indefinite period,” all the singers and comedians, with the exception of those who had contracts of engagement for a longer period, having previously received due notice of dismissal. Two singers only, messieurs Föppel and Rosner (whose wife was the prima donna) could not be comprised in this decision. Together with the orchestra, I was also summoned to attend; all who had no rescript from the elector received notice of dismissal, and we others were asked whether we were disposed to resign our places for an indemnification to be agreed upon with each individual separately. I, who had first to give my answer to this proposal on the part of the administration, immediately declared that I was not disposed to agree to it, but would abide by my engagement, and, should it become necessary, would maintain my right before the proper tribunal. The other musicians also at once pronounced their adhesion to my declaration, and we thus lost one hautboy player only, whom I had at an early period engaged at Prague by the authority of the elector, to make up the complement of the orchestra, and who upon his joining, had unfortunately neglected to have his rescript made out. The first bassoonist, who was in a similar predicament, succeeded nevertheless in maintaining his place, being enabled to produce a letter from me in which I had engaged him in the name and by the authority of the elector, that the letter would guarantee his engagement until the rescript was prepared; by this circumstance he was saved to the orchestra. We others were then not called forward any more, and all remained upon the old footing.

In the autumn of 1832, my brother William wrote to me from Brunswick to apprize me that in the ensuing November would be the “goldene Hochzeit” (the golden wedding) of our parents; and he proposed to me that all their children should meet in Gandersheim, to congratulate our parents, and present them with a musical-clock. That it would be a source of still greater pleasure to my parents, if I combined a musical entertainment with the festival, I could readily imagine, and I therefore urged William Wolff, the brother of my son-in-law, to write a poem for me, to set to music, at the performance of which my wife and I with the piano and violin should represent the orchestra, my three daughters take the solo parts, and my brothers with their wives, and my sons-in-law sing the chorus. So soon as I had received the words in the form which I had suggested, I immediately went to work, wrote a cheerful polonaise (in the execution of which I gave my wife and self the opportunity of shewing our skill as virtuosi on our respective instruments); this I followed up with a general chorus, after which I brought in the three soli of my daughters, who at the conclusion sang a trio; and then lastly I added a general chorus finale. While I was practising this festal cantata with my wife and children, I sent to my brothers their chorus parts also, for the same purpose, and we all met at Gandersheim a few days before the fête-day, which was on the 26th November. As our parents could not accommodate all of us with bed-rooms, I hired for myself and my numerous company, the whole accommodation of an inn, and then consulted with my brothers and sons-in-law as to the best and most effective manner of celebrating the day. Wolff suggested above all things to hire the handsomest and largest room in the whole town; to decorate it with festoons of evergreens and artificial flowers; to display there our presents, and give our cantata before our parents and the families of our friends. We were not long in finding a room, for there was but one at all suitable in the whole place, and that moreover scarcely large enough to hold all the invited guests. From the neighbouring wood we procured in abundance the necessary branches and evergreen for the decorations, and were then all employed for several days together in making the festoons and in preparing garlands of paper-flowers, as also with drawing and painting transparencies. When we would get tired of all this work, I began the rehearsals of the cantata, and could not but admire the industry of the fair sex among us, who had practised their husbands so well in the tenor and bass parts of the chorus, although they were almost utterly unmusical (though gifted with good voices), that their performances were creditable enough to hear. In this manner the time passed very quickly till the festival, and we then had the gratification of seeing our parents deeply moved by our entertainment, and our presents greatly admired by our Gandersheim friends. Besides a musical-clock, which in particular was an object of great attraction, the presents consisted of a very handsome and convenient foot-stool embroidered for my father by his Brunswick daughter-in-law, and in numerous specimens of work executed for my mother by the Cassel ladies. The banquet, which was in part brought from my parents’ house and part furnished from a restaurant, was a very profuse one, at which the wines and liquors brought by us brothers met no less with great approval, so that the festival of the Spohr family went off very satisfactorily, and was long a topic of conversation in Gandersheim. The general interest exhibited on the occasion by the townspeople and those of the neighbourhood was very gratifying, and this among other things was exhibited by the contributions sent to my mother to entertain the numerous guests, for she received a complete houseful of provisions, in the shape of game, pies, pastry, flour, eggs, fruit &c. This gave the whole affair a complete patriarchal character; and every body did his or her utmost to evince their friendship for the worthy and venerable pair, and their respect for the man, who for so many years had stood by them as the faithful physician with help and with advice, and who, wherever he could, had always relieved the necessities of the poor.

After my return I received the command of the Prince to give a succession of concerts during the winter, in place of the theatrical performances, which had been suspended since the spring. These concerts were to take place every Sunday for the benefit of the treasury of the theatre, and the singers who remained with us were to be employed therein. The public, however, greatly displeased at this, and that the receipts from the concerts were thus to be diverted from the relief fund for the widows of the members of the orchestra, came to the determination not to subscribe to them, and thus the receipts were almost null. Few of the concerts only, and that in which the “Weihe der Töne” was first given, were well attended, but in the others the house looked very dreary and empty. Meanwhile it would seem that the Prince and the Countess Schaumburg, had found the winter tediously long with a closed theatre; for towards the spring I received orders to proceed to Meiningen to engage for the months of March, April, and May, a company of travelling performers who were there at that time, under the direction of Bethmann from Berlin. As I expressed the wish to take my wife with me, the Prince ordered his master of the horse, von der Malsburg, to furnish me with a convenient court carriage from the electoral stables, and we proceeded to Meiningen with post horses. But there were other obstacles to be overcome on this mission, besides the negotiations with Bethmann. The latter, for instance, had accepted an engagement for the whole summer from the court of Meiningen, and it was necessary to prevail upon the duke to part with the services of the company earlier than he had intended. To this, however, the duchess notwithstanding her differences with her brother, on account of his quarrel with the mother, rendered me her assistance. Shortly after my return, Bethmann and his company arrived, and for the re-opening of the new theatre gave the “Freischütz,” with much applause. Miss Meisselbach pleased especially by her performance of Agatha. The former director of the theatre, Feige, and I were then appointed in superintendance over Mr. Bethmann, with instructions to place at his disposal, the three singers whose engagements were yet unexpired, the orchestra, and the whole of the company of the scene-painters and workmen of the theatre, the extensive wardrobe, decorations, &c. We now worked out together the order of the repertory, Feige and Bethmann for the plays and I for the operas, and were soon enabled to represent once more all the operas that were previously performed on our stage. At this time I wrote my third double quartet [E minor] and another concertante for two violins, which were soon after published by Simrock in Bonn as Op. 87 and 88.

In June of the same year another grand musical festival took place at Halberstadt, which was undertaken by the minister Augustin and his son, as the sixth musical festival of the Elbe, to direct which concert-master Frederick Schneider of Dessau and myself were invited. It differed chiefly from the previous ones in the erection of an enormous tent, or rather of a large booth constructed of planks, upon the square in front of the cathedral, for the refreshment and social entertainment of the visitors, as well as of the auditory and assistant artists, and in which all strangers could assemble at any hour of the day. The musical performances took place on three successive days, and began with Händel’s oratorio of “Samson” under Schneider’s direction. The next morning the objects most worthy of notice in Halberstadt were visited, particularly the collections of paintings belonging to the Canon von Spiegel and Dr. Lucanus. It was intended to have given a concert at the theatre, but as it was not sufficiently spacious to hold the numerous auditory, a second concert was given simultaneously in the large room of the “Golden Angel,” and the non-resident virtuosi and singers were divided equally to perform at both places. The tickets which were distributed admitted to the rehearsals also, so that each person could hear one of the concerts at the morning rehearsal, and the other at the evening performance; and one single piece of music only was given at both concerts, which was the favorite duet from “Jessonda” between Amazili and Nadori, sung by Mrs. Schmidt and Mr. Mantius, because neither party would permit this piece to be taken from it by the other.—I conducted at the concert given in the room at the “Golden Angel,” and played my new concertante in H minor with concert-master Müller from Brunswick. On the third day the last concert took place in the forenoon, and under my direction, upon which occasion I found upon my conductor’s desk a present of a red velvet coverlet bearing an inscription embroidered in silver. At this concert were performed Mozart’s symphony in C major, and that of Beethoven in C minor; my Lord’s prayer and a Te Deum by Schneider, and I had the satisfaction of observing that at this musical festival my three compositions met with the most general applause. At noon a grand banquet in the large tent terminated the festival, at which the proceeding were of a very noisy character.

We were obliged to devote the remainder of the vacation to a journey to Marienbad in Bohemia, where it was hoped my wife, who constantly suffered from nervous debility, would regain some strength from bathing and drinking the waters, as well as from the enjoyment of the fresh air from the mountains. Among the visitors at the baths we met Raupach of Berlin, with whom I took frequent long walks, during which he related to me many things relating to his approaching theatrical labours. He was at that time full of a new drama which he was going to write immediately upon his return home, in which he intended to lash the ill-natured and hypocrites, and the scene of which he had laid in China. But he probably never completed it, or perhaps the ill-natured ones of Berlin found means to prevent its representation, for so far as I know, no piece of the kind from the pen of Raupach was ever made public. The society of music at Marienbad, whose director was a linen manufacturer in the neighbourhood, had much pleased and surprised me with a very successful performance of Cherubini’s overture to “Medea,” with which, by way of serenade, he had greeted my arrival, and for which I the more readily complied with his wish to write a walz for them à la Strauss, to which also my inclination to try every sort of composition, had long predisposed me. At first, when I had practised their orchestra in it, the walz pleased me very well; but afterwards I found it wanting in that freshness and originality which distinguish most of the walzes of Strauss and Lanner. Nevertheless, by the desire of my publisher Haslinger of Vienna, he brought it out as Op. 89, not only in the original form as an instrumental piece, but also arranged for two and four hands.

On my return to Cassel I next wrote six four-voice songs for men’s voices, which Schuberth of Hamburgh published as Op. 90, and began my fourth quintet in A minor, finished in February of the following year, and which Simrock of Bonn published as Op. 91.

On the 5th April 1834, my children and friends took me by surprise with an unusually grand fete in celebration of my fiftieth birthday. For that very evening I had announced an opera and could not at all understand, why the intendance had suddenly countermanded it, but this had been solicited by my folks unknown to me. My wife and I now availed ourselves of the evening thus left at our disposal to accept an invitation to my son-in-law Zahn’s and we were both not a little surprised to find the apartments brilliantly lighted up with candelabra, and ornamented with ingenious transparencies and flowers, with my bust crowned with a wreath, and a brilliant company assembled to celebrate the day with music (a cantata composed by Hauptmann) and with speeches.

This was unhappily the last festivity of the kind that my good wife lived to see. Our stay at Marienbad had not given her any permanent relief, and as her sufferings returned once more with the commencement of the winter, it became necessary for her to resume the attempt at cure in the next vacation. This time we met at Marienbad the brothers Bohrer, and after I had renewed my former acquaintance with these talented artists, we had frequent quartet parties together, in which we also prevailed upon the old linen-weaver, who was a good violin player, to join us. These music-parties enlivened my wife as well, who benefited so much by the waters that we returned to Cassel with the mostly lively hope of her ultimate recovery. But soon afterwards her condition again became worse, and I now felt but little disposed to proceed with my new oratorio which I had begun in April. Already the year before, on our return journey through Leipzic, Councillor Rochlitz had offered me an oratorio of the passion written by him: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden” [the last moments of the Saviour] to set to music. Although it had already been once set to music, under the title “The end of the just,” by Schicht, I nevertheless took it with pleasure, as he assured me that although the previous composition had been played and with some applause, yet it had not produced sufficient effect; for which reason he had again remodelled the text and had made it more suitable to the object proposed. As, however, I became informed that he had proposed this new text to Mendelssohn also for composition, before proceeding with the work I first wrote of the latter, requesting him to inform me whether he had the intention of composing the oratorio? As he replied in the negative, and informed me that he himself intended to put a text together from scripture (“Paulus”), I began my work in the spring of 1834, which was subsequently interrupted by our journey to the baths. As I nevertheless remarked that my wife, notwithstanding her suffering condition, interested herself as much in my present work as she had done in my previous ones, I soon forgot every thing in the inspiration with which I devoted myself to it. Although upon my return home from the rehearsals at the theatre Dorette received me always with sad looks and anxious observations respecting her health, she nevertheless evinced again so great an interest in the progress of my work, and listened with such lively attention to that which when ready I rehearsed at the St. Cecilia society, that again I always resumed the continuation of the work with new courage. Frequently nevertheless she would interrupt me with the melancholy question: “What will become of our Theresa, should I sink under my illness?”—for her anxiety for Theresa had at that time become her fixed idea—and when I made reply to her: “A happy wife, as our other children have become,” a radiant smile overspread her face, for she had also doubtless remarked, that Theresa, in spite of her youth, had already many aspirants for her favour, and she herself received with no displeasure the attentions of a member of our St. Cecilia society. In this manner I got to the end of the first part of my oratorio, and my wife had the pleasure of seeing the interest and enthusiasm with which it was sung by the society; but after that her strength quickly declined and she was obliged to take to her bed. When I saw the thoughtful expression of face of our physician and family friend Dr. Bauer, I called in also the most reputed physician of our town, Dr. Harnier, to consult with him. But he also shook his head and could give me little hope to save her. As my daughters Emilia and Theresa took upon them the closest care of their mother, I was enabled to comply with Dorette’s wish to continue my work during the day upon the completion of the oratorio, in which she greatly interested herself, but was obliged to watch by her bed at night in turn with Emilia. I had scarcely got to the third “number” of the second part, when her malady assumed the form of a nervous fever, which carried her off, and to the present day I think with bitter sadness of the moment when I pressed the last kiss upon her forehead.

My son-in-law Wolff took upon himself all the mournful preparations for the funeral, for which in my despair I was wholly incompetent, and by that means I was enabled to leave the town for a week with my youngest daughter, who was quite beside herself for grief at the death of her mother, and who moreover had passed the last day by the side of her sister Ida, who was likewise ill. I hired apartments at an inn at Wilhelmshöhe, and we strove to regain the necessary self-possession by long and fatiguing wanderings in the neighbouring bare and wintry woods. When we were at length obliged to return into town we felt the solitude of our house but the more intensely. It was therefore long before I could find resolution sufficient to continue the score upon which I had inscribed a memorandum of the day of my wife’s decease, the 20th November; until at length the disposition to work returned, and I finished the oratorio by the end of the winter. On Good Friday 1835 I gave an entire performance of it. The thought that my wife did not live to witness the completion and performance of the oratorio diminished greatly the satisfaction I experienced at this most successful of my works, and I did not attain a full conception of its effect until in its later performances. An opportunity for a repetition of the oratorio presented itself the same summer on Whitsunday, on which day the Prince, contrary to custom, had granted us permission to give a concert in the church. The theatrical vacation coming soon after this, I was obliged to seize the opportunity, and comply with the advice of my physician to proceed to a sea-bathing place, and I selected for the purpose Zandford, a newly-established and as yet not much frequented watering-place about 3 miles[33] from Haarlem. Besides Theresa, my sister-in-law, Minchen Scheidler, who for some years since the death of my mother-in-law had resided with us, and who during our former journeys was accustomed to visit her brother professor Charles Scheidler at Jena, accompanied me on this journey, and both were exceedingly pleased with it. We descended the Rhine to Dusseldorf, where I had projected staying for a few days, as Mendelssohn, who had accepted the situation of director of music in the new theatre built by Immermann, now lived there. The wife of Councillor von Sybel, at whose house I lived during the musical festival, had heard of our intention to make a short stay in Dusseldorf, and urged me to take up my lodging in her house, which I did the more readily as I had heard that Immermann was a visitor in her house and generally spent his evenings there.

I took my violin with me, and my last works also, among which a second recently finished concertino, E major, Op. 92, published by Breitkopf and Härtel of Leipzic. We first went to Frankfort, stopped there one day only at Speyer’s house, and then continued our journey from Bieberich by the steamboat. At Dusseldorf we were received at the house of Mrs. von Sybel in a very friendly manner, and already on the first evening had the pleasure of making Immermann’s acquaintance, who to the special delight of my sister-in-law read to her his charming “Tulifäntchen.” Of Mendelssohn, who was not there, I heard, that he also was one of the friends of the house, but never appeared there on those evenings when Immermann came, because with him, who devoted his whole attention to the spectacle only, he had disagreed about the opera.

The next morning, when I paid a visit to Mendelssohn and met his sister there, he played to me the first “numbers” of his oratorio “Paulus,” with which I was not altogether quite pleased because it was too much in the style of Händel. He and his sister, on the other hand, appeared greatly pleased with my concertino in E major, in which there occurred a characteristic staccato in one long stroke, by way of novelty, such as he had never before heard by any other violinist. Accompanying me then in a very clever manner from the score, he could not hear this staccato often enough, and repeatedly requested me to begin with it again, saying the while to his sister: “See, this is the famous Sporish staccato, which no violinist can play like him!” Thence I went to see Immermann, who proposed to me to pay a visit to Grabbe, who at that time, at Immermann’s invitation, was staying at Dusseldorf, and I thus on the same day made the acquaintance of that strange being. When, upon my entering his lodging, the little fellow set eyes upon a giant like me, he drew back timidly into a corner of the room, and the first words he spoke to me were: “It would be an easy matter for you to throw me out of that window.” I replied: “Yes, I certainly could, but I am not come here with that intention.” This comical scene over, Immermann then first introduced me to the foolish yet interesting creature.

In the house of our hospitable hostess we passed some pleasant days alternately in Mendelssohn’s and Immermann’s society, and then resumed our journey on board the Dutch steamer to Cleves, where I was desirous of visiting my old friend Thomae for a few days. We found him a widower also; for he, too, had recently lost his wife. The nut-tree in his garden, of which we had set the nut in 1818 with such solemnity during our stay with his family, was in full leaf and flourishing amazingly. Thomae’s children, who were now all grown up, and of whom the eldest son had now taken his father’s place as notary, were all in good health, but he himself seemed low-spirited and ill. Our visit nevertheless afforded him great pleasure, and upon our departure he presented Theresa, as god-daughter of his deceased wife, with a gold watch, and entreated us to visit him again on our return. In this manner, after quitting the steamboat at Rotterdam, we arrived safely at Zandford, by way of the Hague, Amsterdam and Haarlem. When we had hired apartments at the bath-house and looked out of our windows upon the sea for the first time, my sister-in-law uttered the ominous words: “Here I could wish to remain for ever!” After I had arranged with the physician of the bathing-establishment, who came from Haarlem daily to visit the bathers, respecting the terms for his attendance during my bathing cure, and had immediately begun to bathe, I soon went into the sea with real pleasure, and took great delight in swimming about in it. Our fellow inmates of the bath-house and guests at the dinner-table were some puritan families from Elberfeld and Barmen, whose religious notions I had soon sufficient opportunity to learn by their conversation at table, but which by no means inspired me with a wish to make their nearer acquaintance. After dinner we used to take our walks in the wood, which, beginning immediately behind the downs, extended almost as far as Haarlem, and in this manner we passed the fine weather with which we were favoured in the summer of 1835, very happily in our retirement. This was, however, soon to be interrupted by an unexpected artistic enjoyment; for the lovers of music of Amsterdam, who had been informed of my presence in Zandford, invited me and my fellow travellers to a concert which they had arranged in my honour. We proceeded therefore by omnibus to Haarlem, and thence by the canal boat to Amsterdam, where we alighted at the house of Mr. Tenkate, a former acquaintance of mine. In his company we went to the concert given in the concert room of Felix Meritis, at which several of my compositions were given; first one of my symphonies, then the duet from “Jessonda,” sung by Mr. de Vruecht of Haarlem and the prima donna of the German theatre; after which Mr. Tours of Rotterdam played a violin-concerto of mine, and Mr. Vruecht terminated the concert with some songs. After we had supped at the house of our host, and were on the point of going to bed, a serenade was given me, which we listened to from the balcony of the house.

My sister-in-law, who during the concert had complained of a head-ache, now probably caught cold, for despite my warning she would stand out also in the chill night air on the balcony to hear the serenade; and upon our return to Zandford, upon consulting the bath-physician next morning, he found that a cutaneous eruption had made its appearance in the night, which, however, he did not consider dangerous. The vacation meanwhile was drawing to a close, and the physician was of opinion that after the invalid had kept her bed for a few days, we should soon be enabled to set out upon our return journey. But on the evening of the same day, while I was sitting at the bed-side of my sister-in-law, as the sun was going down, and speaking with her of our return home, she requested in a tone of anxious and nervous agitation to be allowed to get up, and while exerting my utmost strength to prevent her from rising, she fell back suddenly upon the pillows, and losing all consciousness, breathed her last. Both Theresa and I, seized with alarm, called for assistance, upon which a young man, a medical student whose apartment was contiguous to ours, came in with all his instruments and immediately proceeded to open a vein. But it was without success. No blood would flow, the surgeon pronounced her dead and was now using every effort to bring Theresa to her senses, who had fainted away with fright. Thus was sadly realised the ominous desire of my sister-in-law: “Here I could wish to remain for ever!” What we felt as we followed her a few days afterwards to her last resting-place, and how sadly this scene resuscitated the mournful recollection of that we had witnessed the year before in Cassel, I need not attempt to describe.

We now proceeded with all possible speed on our return journey, and at the landing-place of the steam-boat near Cleves met our friend Thomae, who, when he learned our new loss, persisted no further in his desire that we should again stay a few days at his house. As my leave of absence was moreover expired, we continued our journey to Cassel without further delay. But I there felt the lonesomeness of our home yet more keenly, deprived of the one whom we had left behind, and I therefore began to experience the want of a partner through life who would also take an interest in my musical labours. The meetings of our society of St. Cecilia were near at hand, where at our weekly rehearsals the opportunity might present itself to me to make unperceived such observations as would perhaps enable me to select a lady in whom I might hope to find a solace for the remainder of my life, and one fitted to restore to me my lost happiness. I there bethought me especially of the sister of my deceased friend Karl Pfeiffer, whose serious tone of mind and warm interest for high-class music I had observed during her constant punctual attendance for several years at the concerts of the society, and who, moreover, as I knew through her brother, had a particular predilection for my music. Besides this, in my almost daily walks on the Cologne Alley, which took me past the garden of Chief Councillor Pfeiffer of the court of appeal, I had for a long time past the opportunity of witnessing at a distance the happy and unpretentious manner of life of the family. As at that time (September 1835) the electoral troops were concentrated for the autumn manœuvres, and had formed a camp in the neighbourhood of the castle of Wilhelmsthal, whither the Casselers now resorted as their chief promenade, I bethought me of making a party thither, and through my daughter Theresa requested the parents Pfeiffer to permit both their daughters to accompany us.

During this little excursion, I had the opportunity in the course of conversation to become acquainted with the high and varied intellectual culture of the two sisters, and so I became fully confirmed in my resolve to sue for the hand of the eldest sister, Marianne, whose knowledge of music and skill in pianoforte play I had already observed, when she sometimes gave her assistance in accompaniment at the concerts of the St. Cecilia society. As I had not the courage to propose for her by word of mouth, there being more than twenty years difference in our ages, I put the question to her in writing, and added, in excuse for my courtship, the assurance that I was yet perfectly free from the usual infirmities of age. I now awaited the answer with the most anxious expectancy. To my great joy it proved one of assent, upon which I hastened to her parents, and in due form asked her in marriage. They wished every happiness to our union, and we now daily learned to know each other better. As at my age there was not much time be lost, I urged that the wedding should take place immediately after the new year, which after some opposition from the relations and the bride, was consented to. Our wedding was fixed for the 3rd of January 1836, and I asked my parents to become witness to my new happiness. Yet, on the appointed day our wedding nearly failed to take place, for the required permission of the co-regent Prince had not yet been received, notwithstanding all the exertions of my friend Mr. von der Malsburg, whose office it was, as marshal of the court, to have it made out.

My father-in-law, who in former years had given private readings in public law to the Prince, and then did not stand very high in his favour, had totally lost it since, as a member of the first parliament (from 1831 to 1832), he had effected by his able and convincing report to the assembled states a great diminution of the disproportionate amount of the military expenditure. The Prince bore this doubtless in mind, and therefore delayed granting his permission for the marriage of his daughter. Neither did we receive this until my bride had signed a bond, which was expressly required of her, whereby she waived all claim to a future pension. As I, in case of my death, was enabled to provide for my wife by other means, we consented to this requisition; and in this manner our wedding did yet take place on the day which had been appointed. The nearest relatives of the family of my parents-in-law, to the number of three and thirty, together with my own parents, my daughters and their husbands, were assembled on the occasion. The marriage ceremony, at the request of my bride, was performed by her favorite preacher Asbrand, whom she knew personally and highly esteemed.

I now lived again in my former and accustomed domestic manner and felt unspeakably happy with my wife! As we frequently played together, I became more and more acquainted with her high sentiment for the noble in the science of music, and from her great ability for reading at sight, was enabled in a short time to play with her not only all that I had previously written for the violin with pianoforte accompaniment, but many new things in that style of art, and which I had not previously known, were suggested to me by her. This inspired me with a great desire to try something for once in duets especially written for pianoforte and violin. The first I wrote for ourselves was the duet in G minor (Op. 95 published by Breitkopf of Leipzic). Thus engaged I frequently observed with great pleasure the lively interest she took in my works, in the same manner as my departed wife had afforded me so much happiness and stimulated my labours. When I had written out a passage, upon playing it with her I could immediately hear its full effect, which interested and made us both equally happy. Besides the above I composed at this period six songs for a counter tenor voice, published by Simrock of Bonn as Op. 94.

When the summer and the season of vacation drew nigh, we resolved upon a journey to visit our respective relatives. But as there was no railway at that time, we were obliged as formerly to travel with post horses, and proceeded by way of Eisenach to Gotha, where we visited a step-sister of my late wife, who had married a tradesman of the Name of Hildt of that place. We found them in their flower-garden, spent a pleasant evening with them, and left the next day for Erfurt. As the musical amateurs of that place had heard of our coming beforehand, we were immediately received at the hotel of “The Roman Emperor” by a deputation, who invited us in a most flattering address to the festive entertainments which had been prepared for us. At the banquet which was given on the first day, I was welcomed in a poem composed for the occasion, after which my health was drunk with an enthusiasm which afforded great gratification to my wife and daughter. In the evening we drove to the “Steiger,” the favorite place of resort of the citizens of Erfurt; but as it shortly afterwards began to rain, we could not much enjoy the beautifully laid out gardens, and were compelled to take refuge in the saloon itself. Fortunately they had taken care to provide a good pianoforte and I could therefore let the company hear my new duet for violin and piano, and also my concertino in E sharp, both of which I played with my wife. After that, Theresa sang some of my newest songs, and by some of the ladies and gentlemen of Erfurt my bass duet from “Faust” and several songs were sung. This improvisated musical party appeared to please the company greatly, and thus, despite the rain, we returned to town very satisfied with our day’s pleasure. Early on the following morning we were taken by surprise with a serenade performed in our honour by the military-band drawn up on the square in front of the hotel. It began with the well-known sounds of one of my symphonies, which was followed by several other pieces, and lastly by the first finale from “Zemira and Azor.” We then went to see objects of note in the town, particularly the fine cathedral, upon entering which we were greeted by the pealing notes of the celebrated organ, and afterwards, the introduction to the “Last moments of the Saviour,” as also several other melodies, chiefly from my earlier oratorios, were executed in a very impressive manner. After we had partaken of a magnificent repast at the house of Major von Rommel, whose wife was a cousin of Mrs. Spohr’s, we drove to the theatre, where preparations had been made for a grand concert, at which, with a brilliantly lighted house, the “Weihe der Töne” and my “Lord’s Prayer” were performed in a very satisfactory manner.

The next morning we continued our journey to Leipzic, and there again attended several interesting musical parties, which my old friends Rochlitz and Weiss, as also the distinguished pianiste Mrs. Vogt, gave at their houses in our honour, and where I played some of my more recent quartets, which were as yet unknown to the Leipzickers, particularly the Quatuor brillant in A major, which I had composed in the previous autumn (Op. 93, published by Haslinger of Vienna). In Dresden, at the hotel of the “Stadt Gotha,” we met the family Kleinwächter of Prague, father, son and daughter—as also my friend Adolph Hesse, the celebrated organist of Breslau, whom I had personally known since 1828, when he first visited me in Cassel, and who entertained a great friendship for me. With him we proceeded on a preproposed tour through Saxon Switzerland, and performed the first distance, to the entrance of the Uttewalder Ravine, in the carriage, which, when we became tired of climbing the steep heights which offered the chief points of view, always took us again and carried us conveniently from one magnificent rocky aspect to the other. We had nevertheless some long and fatiguing pedestrian trips, for instance that of the ascent of the great Winterberg, when the heat was very oppressive. From Hirniskretschen, the limit of our journey, we descended the Elbe to Schandau, partook of a pleasant dinner there, during which we rallied each other mutually upon our fatigue, which we endeavoured as much as possible to conceal from the visitors at the baths, who sat with us at table, and which gave rise to many comical incidents.

In Dresden we went to a very interesting quartet party at the house of the court musician Franz, a former pupil of mine, for which occasion it was festively decorated with wreaths and flowers. We there met the three directors of orchestra Reissiger, Morlachi and Rastrelli, and I played one of my double quartets and my newest concertino. As we purposed leaving Dresden the next morning it was now necessary to take leave of our amiable fellow travellers Kleinwächter and Hesse, in whose society we had passed so many pleasant hours, and who during the time of our being together, had really heaped upon us every demonstration of affection and attention. They parted from us with tears in their eyes, and we continued our journey through Leipzic and Halle to Brunswick, where we were desirous of visiting my brothers William and Augustus, and at the same time of assisting at the musical festival which was then about to be held there. This took place in the Ægydian church, and opened with Händel’s “Messiah.” Although that noble work was long since well known to us from previous performances of it, we were nevertheless again truly charmed by the grandeur of the choruses, the powerful cast, and Mozart’s instrumentation. On the two following days mixed concerts of vocal and instrumental music were given; but the pieces performed being for the most part operatic music, they appeared to us not altogether suited for the church. At all the grand dinners which took place daily at noon under the large tent that had been erected on the wall promenade, the hilarity was generally somewhat tumultuous; and one scene that occurred on the last day was of a very comical nature.

Mantius, the tenor singer of Berlin, who had already sung some songs with great applause, was at last requested to sing the favorite one of “Fair Annie.”[34] This song has an apparent termination, which is followed by a yet more brilliant finale. It so happened that the auditory always broke out into a loud applause before Mantius had got to the end. After this had occurred to his great annoyance at some verses, he at the following verse mounted upon a bench, and at last even got upon the table, in order at length to obtain a complete hearing for the brilliant point of the song, but again his efforts were fruitless! The apparent termination was always too irresistible, and although Mantius previous to the last verse again implored his hearers both earnestly and piteously to restrain their applause until he had really come to the end, one of them nevertheless allowed himself to be carried away by his feelings and to shout bravo at the wrong time, and that was quite sufficient for the rest to join in. The expression of despair with which, though overwhelmed with applause, the singer now jumped down from the table, was indescribably ludicrous.

Upon our leaving Brunswick we were pressingly invited by Councillor Lüder, who had also been present at the musical festival, to spend a few days with him at his country seat at Catlenburg, upon our way back; and this formed a worthy termination to this interesting journey.

On our return to Cassel I found a letter from my former pupil Gercke, director of music at Paderborn, in which we were invited to the millenium jubilee of St. Liborius, which was to take place there on the 21st July. The celebration of this festival was to commence on the first day with church solemnities, and on the second with the production of my oratorio: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden” (The last moments of the Saviour). As my holidays were not quite expired, we quickly made up our minds, and in a few days again took our seats in the travelling carriage, in which this time my sister-in-law Caroline Pfeiffer filled the fourth place. We slept at Lichtenau and set out from there so early the next morning, that we arrived at Paderborn before eight o’clock, but we found nevertheless the town so full, that we could not be accommodated at either of the two hotels there. The host of the second hotel seemed however to regret his inability to accommodate us, and hired for us a couple of rooms in a private house opposite. But we could there procure two beds only, so that he was obliged to arrange a sleeping place for me and my wife for the night in the hotel, and that indeed in a room occupied by a hair-dresser during the day in the pursuance of his calling, and for the sale of his wares. We had scarcely entered our unseemly apartment than we received a visit from the dilettanti of the town, and from the artists who had come to take part in the musical performances. We were then conducted to the house of one of their friends, where the best places were given to us at the windows, to see with more convenience the brilliant procession which accompanied the relics of St. Liborius in their golden shrine, to the cathedral. When the immense crowd of the population had somewhat dispersed we also proceeded to the cathedral, where we admired the richly decorated and beautiful structure, and heard Carl Maria von Weber’s mass in D major, the too worldly style of which however did not altogether please us. On the following evening my oratorio was performed in the church of the Jesuits, brilliantly lighted up, whither we were accompanied and a passage made for us through the thronged aisle up to the front places assigned to us on cushioned seats close to those of the bishop of Paderborn, chief president Vincke and the commandant of the town. I remarked with pleasure that here also a great enthusiasm was felt for my oratorio; Gercke directed exceedingly well, the choruses had been well studied, and among the solo-singers, who were for the most part dilettanti, the well-known concert singer Mrs. Johanna Schmidt particularly distinguished herself in the part of Mary. Scarcely had we retired to rest after this busy day, than we heard a torch-light serenade under our windows, consisting of instrumental music and four-part songs. When on the repeated loud calls on my name I went to the window with the intention of returning thanks, I found in front of it so high a pile of pasteboard boxes belonging to my co-occupant of the room as to impede my efforts to open it, and I was therefore compelled to convey my deferred oral thanks in a written shape the next morning previous to our leaving.

In this manner we returned to Cassel from this excursion also very gratified, after which, inspired with improved health and in very happy domestic circumstances, I began a new period of industrious composition. Already on the return journey from Dresden I had constantly thought of a new composition, and sketched out the programme of it. This was another sonate for me and my wife, which was afterwards published as a duet for piano and violin “Nachklänge einer Reise nach Dresden und in die sächsische Schweiz” (Reminiscences of a journey to Dresden and through Saxon Switzerland) Op. 96, by Simrock of Bonn and dedicated to our amiable fellow travellers of Prague and Breslau. In the first theme I endeavoured to describe the love of travel, and in the second the journey itself, by introducing the winding of the postillions’ horns, customary in Saxony and the neighbouring part of Prussia, as the dominant in the scherzo, played by the violin upon the G string in a horn-like manner as chief theme, worked out with striking modulations on the pianoforte, and then I depicted in the trio a fanciful dreaming-like sentiment, such as one so willingly yet unconsciously gives onesself up to in the carriage! The subsequent adagio represents a scene in the catholic royal-chapel at Dresden, which begins with an organ-prelude on the pianoforte alone; after which the violin plays the intonations of the priest before the altar, which are followed by the responses of the chorister-boys in the same tones and modulations as they are given in catholic churches and that of Dresden. This is followed by a air for castrato, in which the violinist has to imitate the tone and that style of singing. The last theme of all describes in a rondo the journey through Saxon Switzerland, in which it endeavours to recal the recollection of the grand beauties of nature and to represent the merry strains of the Bohemian music, which one hears resound from almost every rocky glen; to effect all which in so compressed a limit could of course be but imperfectly realised.

In the course of the year 1836 I wrote also a number of songs, six of which, in one book, were published by Breitkopf & Härtel as Op. 101, and among the rest “Sangeslust” (The love of song) given in Breitkopf & Härtel’s musical album, with four-handed accompaniment; furthermore a Psalm for chorus and soli with orchestral accompaniment, and a fantasia in the shape of an overture to Raupach’s mythical tragedy “Die Tochter der Luft” (“The Daughter of the Air”) which was shortly afterwards performed at one of our subscription concerts. But as in this shape it did not altogether please me, I afterwards worked it up as the first theme of my fifth symphony, which I composed for the “concerts spirituels” at Vienna and which was shortly afterwards published by Haslinger as Op. 102.[35] In the beginning of the following year (1837) I wrote my third duet for pianoforte and violin in E major, which was afterwards published by Paul of Dresden as Op. 112.

About this same time I made earnest preparations to carry out an idea which had long occupied my thought, namely to give a musical festival, for which Cassel seemed to me in many respects exceedingly well adapted. My plan of this was as follows, on Whitsunday afternoon to give Mendelssohn’s oratorio of “Paulus” (St. Paul) in the church of St. Martin; on Whitmonday evening, with the church lighted up, to perform my symphony “Die Weihe der Töne” and my oratorio of “Die letzten Dinge;” on Whittuesday in the forenoon, at the theatre, a concert of foreign and native singers and virtuosi, and on the same evening, as was usual on the second festival day, a new opera.

The invitations abroad, the assembling of the musicians, and the rehearsal of the oratorios by the choral-society had already begun, when to my application to the Prince for permission I received the following authoritative decision from his private secretary: “The days of performance must be changed, as the evening of Whitsunday could not be granted without disturbing those who had prepared themselves to receive the holy sacrament on that evening; neither could any concert be allowed on Whitmonday (on account of the church service and the opera); nor could any scaffolding be erected in the large church for the chorus, as it would be unbecoming in the locality of the burial vault of the electoral family. His highness must await other proposals, before he could graciously condescend to grant his permission.”

To this I replied that a musical festival in Cassel could alone prove successful, and the risk of the very considerable expense could alone be safely incurred if it were permitted, as at other places, and as is the custom at the musical festivals on the lower Rhine, to take place in the Whitsuntide holidays, when a great number of strangers would flock to the town and the lovers of music of the neighbouring places would not be prevented by business from attending. That if Whitsunday evening could not be granted, no other two succeeding evenings of that time could be found for performances in the church. As, furthermore, no other appropriate place was to be found in Cassel, than the large church, and that the erection of seats therein could not be allowed, I found myself compelled to abandon totally the projected musical festival.

Unpleasant to all parties as was this complete failure of the plan, I was compelled to abide by it, despite the somewhat considerable expense I had already incurred, and of which I could reimburse myself but a very small part only by the re-sale of the procured song-parts to the choral society. As meanwhile, however, we had industriously practised Mendelssohn’s oratorio, and become more and more delighted with it, I proposed to give it on Whitsunday at the concert which had been permitted for the benefit of the relief fund; but this was refused also by the Prince, so that we were obliged to content ourselves with gratifying the lovers of music with two private performances of the oratorio upon the pianoforte at the society of St. Cecilia.

In the summer of 1837 I received an invitation to go to Prague to direct the performance of my opera “Der Berg-Geist” (The Spirit of the Mountain) and for that purpose I thought of proceeding thither at the commencement of the holidays. But as the permission had not been received at the treasury of the theatre on the evening before, I addressed myself to the Prince between the acts of the opera, and enquired of him, Whether he had any orders for me to execute upon the journey. In the somewhat indistinct answer I received from him I understood, it is true, something about my permission not having been made out; but as I had no time to lose, I found myself under the necessity of setting out without it at 4 o’clock the next morning. Seeing Feige, the director of the theatre, walking in the neighbourhood of my house at that early hour, I thought he might have been sent to ascertain whether I really had the boldness to set out on my journey without the written permission. On the first day’s journey indeed, I was not without some uneasiness lest a mounted messenger might be sent after us to order our return. I therefore hastened as much as possible at every post-station the putting-to of fresh horses, and we thus crossed the frontier without molestation. After a journey of six days we at length reached Prague, where Marianne and Theresa were greatly struck by the beauty of the city and had moreover the gratification to learn from the theatre bills placarded at the corners of the streets, that my opera Jessonda was to be given that evening, in which a foreign singer was to make her debut. That the opera was a great favorite here was evident from the fact that immediately after the performance of the overture, the public encored it. The “Blumenduet” (flower duet) and the duet “Schönes Mädchen” (lovely maiden) were also encored. But I was very much annoyed at several omissions, for which however the director of the Prague orchestra was not to blame, being omissions which were customary in Vienna, from whence the score had been supplied. The principal singers were very good, so that a favourable result was also to be anticipated for the “Berg-Geist.”

On the following morning I was taken by surprise by a visit from a zealous lover of music, Dr. Hutzelmann, who had been informed that I was fond of swimming, and had for that reason come to take me to the military school of natation on the Moldau; the officer attached to that establishment, who accompanied me, soon remarked that I was a practised swimmer, and proposed a swimming excursion outside the school, in which he ordered me to be accompanied by two soldiers in a boat. They took my clothes with them, and after I had swum for about half an hour with the stream, they assisted me into the boat, in which I dressed myself while the soldiers rowed us back to the town. While I was swimming near the boat, our conversation turned more and more upon my compositions, with which the musical instructor in swimming was almost as well acquainted as myself. He proposed to me a similar enjoyment every day in the Moldau, and next morning found him already waiting for me with his boat near the swimming-school. Meanwhile the rehearsals of the “Berg-Geist” went on exceedingly well. The director of the orchestra had very carefully managed the private rehearsals, and studied everything so well, that in two performances which I myself conducted the opera was eminently successful. Upon my entering the orchestra I was not only received by the public in the most enthusiastic manner, but loudly called for each time at the conclusion of the opera. The singers who supported the chief characters were madame Podhorski as Alma, Messrs. Pöck and Emminger, as Berg-Geist and Oskar, who sang and performed exceedingly well, and the opera maintained its place in the repertory of Prague theatre for a long time. We remained a few days longer in Prague, and I played at several private parties not only quartets but also my sonatas and solo-music with my wife’s accompaniment, who likewise played some quite new composition of Kittl and Kleinwächter for four hands, in which she displayed great ability and quickness in reading at sight. The Kleinwächter family made several excursions with us into the beautiful environs of Prague, by which means we became intimately acquainted with all the attractions of that fine city. At length however we were obliged to tear ourselves away from these enjoyments and resumed our journey. Now also came the most fatiguing part of our tour, that to Vienna, in which we suffered exceedingly from the heat and dust, as also from the dirty and wretched accommodation of the inns where we passed the night. On the fourth day we arrived half dead at Vienna and put up at the “Erzherzog Carl” hotel. After I had called upon my former friends, we passed some very pleasant days there, for which we had to thank my Cassel friends von Steuber, the ambassador from the Elector of Hesse, the Baron von Lannoy, and particularly my Viennese publisher, Haslinger. The latter took us every evening to some new gardens, where Strauss and Lanner gave their concerts, and where we supped exceedingly well à la carte at the little tables spread for the entertainment of the guests. Sometimes, also, we went to the theatre, to see the real Viennese popular farces, but my female companions were not sufficiently acquainted with the Viennese dialect, to relish them thoroughly.

After the lapse of a fortnight, in which we participated in all the amusements of Vienna, we took leave of our kind friends and resumed our journey towards the beautifully situated Salzburg, which is one of the finest possible, particularly the first half, the way across the lake to the Ischl baths. In Salzburg, which as the birth-place of Mozart was to me sacred ground, we first of all visited his widow, the present wife of Privy Councillor von Nissen, who was very pleased at our calling upon her, and in whose house we made the acquaintance of her two sons. In the excursions we made into the neighbourhood in one of the customary light, one-horse vehicles of the country, we were most pleased at the celebrated Gollinger waterfall, and with a sliding trip through the rock-salt-works at Hallein, which was something quite new for my female fellow travellers. From Salzburg we now went on to Munich, where I learned to my great surprise, that the Prince of Hesse had just arrived there. As it was now necessary for me to apologise to him for my departure from Cassel, I addressed myself for that purpose to the Marshal of the court, von der Malsburg, and at the same time informed him that I had been requested by the intendant of the Munich theatre to conduct there the performance of my opera “Jessonda,” but for which I would first request the Prince’s permission. On the following morning the Prince sent word to me that it would be very agreeable to him that I should direct the opera, and in that case he would prolong his stay to hear it. Adorned with a hat lent to me by Mr. von der Malsburg and a little bit cut off from the ribbon of his order, I repaired the next day to the appointed audience, and was received by the Prince with the following words: “Why, you disappeared from Cassel all at once.” To which I replied: “I thought I had taken my leave in the form prescribed,” and as he said nothing further on the subject, the matter was so far settled for this time. But the contemplated representation of “Jessonda” did not take place during my presence in Munich, as the king expected some days after a visit from the Prince, and had deferred the opera till then, and in the meantime my leave of absence had expired. We therefore left Munich before. On our way back we paid a visit to my uncle Professor Adolphus Hencke in Erlangen, where we made the acquaintance of the present Councillor Rudolph Wagner of Göttingen, and returned to Cassel before the Prince arrived.

Shortly afterwards, I received a letter from Hermstedt, wherein, by request of the Princess von Sondershausen, he commissioned me to write some soprano songs for her with pianoforte and clarinet accompaniment. As this task was much to my liking, I composed in the course of a few weeks six songs of this kind (Op. 103, published by Breitkopf & Härtel of Leipzic) which by the express desire of the Princess I dedicated to her, and for which I received from her the present of a very costly ring.

I began the year 1838 with the composition of the “Vaterunser” [Lord’s Prayer] of Klopstock (Op. 104, Breitkopf & Härtel, Leipzic) which I wrote with a double chorus for men’s voices; at first only for pianoforte accompaniment, and afterwards instrumentated for orchestra, as it was intended to be performed at the singing festival for the benefit of the Mozart institution at Frankfort, where though I was obliged to decline directing in person, it was first performed on the 29th July, and having been well studied, produced, according to the reports from there, a very solemn and imposing effect.

In the succeeding months I again composed several songs for soprani or tenori, which appeared as Op. 105, at Hellmuth’s in Halle.

Meanwhile the first public performance of “Paulus” took place at last on Good Friday in the garrison-church, and we were looking forward with pleasure to its repetition on Whitsunday, when our good Theresa fell suddenly ill of a malignant nervous fever, which in a short time brought her blooming life to a close. On the Tuesday before Ascension Day we had, chiefly at Theresa’s own wish, made a pleasant excursion to Wilhelmshöhe; there she first complained of indisposition, and on our return home she was immediately obliged to take to her bed. As Dr. Ludwig Pfeiffer, our then attendant physician and second brother of my wife, was just then absent from Cassel, we called in once more her uncle, Dr. Harnier, who although no alarming symptoms as yet shewed themselves, visited the patient several times daily, until after the lapse of a week, to our great terror he pronounced her complaint to be nervous fever. This now constantly increased in vehemence, and as in her fits of delirium she spoke continually of a journey we had contemplated to Carlsbad, the idea of which had greatly pleased her, I promised her that she should go thither as soon as she recovered. This greatly soothed her, but nevertheless did not diminish the fever, and on Whitsunday morning the blooming maiden of nineteen succumbed to the fearful malady. The loss of the talented amiable girl plunged us in such misery that we looked forward with earnest longing to the approaching theatrical vacation, in order to leave immediately the mournful surroundings of our home, and seek far away from Cassel some respite from the constant remembrance of our anguish.

After we had been delayed another eight days in Cassel by the reiterated retarding of my leave of absence, we were enabled to set out for Carlsbad on the 23rd June, accompanied by my mother-in-law, to whom the use of the waters had also been recommended, which was exceedingly welcome to me, particularly on account of my wife, who had taken very much to heart the loss of our Theresa. No sooner were we arrived in Carlsbad than we met with Hesse of Breslau, and in our walks to the springs soon made the acquaintance of other warm lovers of music, with whom on dull days, when the weather would permit of no excursions together to the charming environs, we made up small music parties at our lodgings. As a young lady from Breslau, Miss Ottilia Schubert, sang most charmingly, my wife practised her in my new songs with clarinet accompaniment, at which a first-rate clarinet player, Mr. Seemann from Hannover, took the clarinet part; in this manner our hearers became acquainted with a new style of songs which they had not known before, and which interested them exceedingly. Somewhat later, De Beriot also arrived with his sister-in-law Pauline Garcia, in Carlsbad, and the concert which he gave at the theatre afforded us very great enjoyment. He played with great purity, brilliancy and execution, but his compositions did not altogether please us, and Miss Garcia, afterwards the so-celebrated Mrs. Viardot-Garcia, sang with a voice of great compass, though not exactly a very fine one, and with great artistic skill. She especially delighted her hearers with the execution of her Spanish romances and ballads, in which she accompanied herself very well on the pianoforte.

[Here, unfortunately, Spohr’s own narrative of his life closes for ever!—To the subsequent encouragements of his relatives to resume it he used to reply: “I take no pleasure in writing now; and there are sufficient materials for the continuance of the Biography at any time, in the diaries and papers of my wife.”—Hereupon, this latter, mindful of this express indication of her husband’s, resolved to place notes, journals, and letters of every kind, and even memoranda jotted down for her sole private use and edification, at the disposal of those members of the family who undertook by means of extracts, without any pretence to literary skill—in simple, unadorned truthfulness, after Spohr’s own example—to carry out the history of his life to the end.]

After a beneficial use of the waters, Spohr left Carlsbad, and on his way back stopped at Leipzic, where some musical parties quickly got up by the families of his acquaintance enabled him to pass some very agreeable days, and at which he played his favorite quartet in A minor, with his newest concertino, to the great delight of his hearers. Upon this occasion, it was a source of great pleasure to him to make the long desired acquaintance of Robert Schumann, who though in other respects exceedingly quiet and reserved, yet evinced his admiration of Spohr with great warmth, and gratified him by the performance of several of his interesting fantasias.

Mendelssohn was at the time unfortunately absent, and in his next letter to Spohr expressed his great regret thereat; and requested him at the same time to send him his last symphony (No. 5, C minor), as it was intended to perform it at the opening of the approaching season in the first concert of the Leipzic Gewandhaus. While expressing his thanks for it beforehand, he says at the same time, in reference to a song of Spohr’s with which he had just previously become acquainted: “As I am now on the subject of thanks, I must thank you many times and with all my heart for the beautiful song in F sharp with clarinet accompaniment, the “Zwiegesang,” which pleases me exceedingly and has so completely charmed me with its prettyness, that I both sing and play it every day. It is not on account of any one particular feature that I admire it, but for its perfectly natural sweetness as a whole, and which from beginning to end flows so lightly and gratefully to the feelings. How often have I sung it with my sisters, and each time with renewed pleasure! And for that I must now also thank you....”

The first work with which Spohr occupied himself after his return to Cassel, was a fourth quartet for stringed instruments (G minor), which was published by Paul of Dresden as Op. 106, both in its original form and as arranged by Spohr himself for the pianoforte for four hands.—About the same time he received the very unusual order to make arrangements for a concert at court, which after frequent and long deliberations, at length took place on the 19th. September at the palace of Wilhelmshöhe. The instrumental pieces were performed by the members of the electoral chapel, but the vocal subjects were at Spohr’s recommendation confided to Firnhaber, a distinguished dilettant professor from Hildesheim, who himself had a court appointment, and had been for some years tutor to Baron Scholley, stepson to the Prince. With a very fine high tenor voice, he combined a good musical education, and a lively sentiment for art, and Spohr’s compositions, with the manifold beauties of which he had made himself more and more acquainted during his residence in Cassel, soon inspired him with real enthusiasm. As Spohr also took as much pleasure in his society as in his charming style of singing, he was a constant assistant at all music parties, and his presence in Cassel suggested to Spohr many of his most pleasing and favorite songs, of which were: the book of songs from Op. 101 to 105; the duet for soprano and tenor Op. 107, (both published by Simrock) and Franz Dingelstedt’s “Mitternacht” (midnight), which song was published by itself by Paul of Dresden. Respecting the last, the author of the words, who had then an appointment at the gymnasium of Fulda, wrote to Spohr at a subsequent period, expressing the greatest satisfaction: “Yesterday evening I heard your song ‘Mitternacht’ sung, and still deeply impressed by it, I hasten to thank you, and to express both my delight and my pride therein. I will not say that you have entered into the spirit of my words—for what are they after all? No, it is you who have caught the long, low, solemn whisperings of midnight. For the first time I regret that I am not sufficiently acquainted with music to understand and express the enthusiasm of the initiated in matters of change of tempi, tone &c.; in your art I am a naturalist merely, but I enjoy this production of it yet more deeply and intimately than they all; for I feel as a poet in the matter!—Not a word more now of common-place praise and song of thanksgiving! You have afforded me an hour of delight, and stirred within me emotions such as alas! I can feel here but seldom: a reward for my aspirations, an incentive to future efforts! You, I am sure, understand me!”....

In October 1838 Spohr, following the example set by many of the larger towns of Germany, succeeded at length in carrying out his reiterated proposition to give a concert at the theatre in aid of the funds for the erection of the testimonial to the memory of Mozart. The first part of the concert comprised among other things Mozart’s symphony in D minor; and in the second, tableaux vivants, with appropriate music, from Mozart’s operas, in which at the conclusion, the last chorus of the requiem resounded, and the bust of Mozart, placed in the foreground of the stage, was crowned by genii with wreaths of laurel.—A similar festival took place the following spring in aid of the fund for the memorial to Beethoven, but with this difference, that the programme contained besides the choicest selection from the works of that honoured maestro, a composition of Spohr’s also, his most recent concertino: “Sonst und Jetzt,” which he had performed for the first time shortly before at one of the regular winter concerts, and upon this occasion reproduced at the express desire of the Prince. The success upon both occasions was extremely great.

At the commencement of the same year, several other remarkable concerts took place, and among others, Ole Bull performed twice in the theatre, to overflowing houses, notwithstanding the increased prices of admission, and filled the public with astonishment and admiration of his play. Spohr himself took the warmest interest in the wonderful play of his colleague in art, and gave a musical party at his own house in his honour, in which he first played one of his own quartets, but in the following he resigned the first place to Ole Bull, and even took the second violin. His opinion respecting Ole Bull’s play may here be given in his own words, when writing to his friend Speyer upon the subject: “Ole Bull has lately given two concerts at the theatre and greatly charmed the public. His many-toned strokes and the accurate certainty of the left hand are remarkable, but like Paganini, he sacrifices too much to the tricks of the art. His tone on the weak strings is bad, and he can only use the A and D string on the lower part and pianissimo. This gives to his play a great monotony when he cannot bring in his tricks of art. We found this in two of Mozart’s quartets, which he played at my house. On the other hand, he plays with much feeling, but not with a cultivated taste.” With every acknowledgment made by Spohr of the extraordinary performances of Ole Bull, certain features of charlatanism, so foreign to his own simple nature, did not escape him, and he frequently related at a subsequent period with a good-natured smile to his own friends, and to others, how Ole Bull at a passage which offered him an opportunity of shining in one of his incomparable pp, kept his bow hovering over the strings for several seconds, so that the public who listened in breathless silence for the last sound of his constantly decreasing tones, might believe they still continued dying away in ppp.

About this time also, the representation of a small opera: “Der Matrose,” in the composition of which Spohr had assisted, was frequently repeated. The text, adopted from the French, was written by the admired comedian Birnbaum, and at his wish set to music by four composers of this place, Spohr, Hauptmann, Baldewein (director of music), and the song-writer and teacher of music Grenzebach, collectively. Besides the overture, Spohr had undertaken the song of a home-returning mariner, together with the finale and all these “numbers,” and the whole operetta met with lively approbation from the public. Unfortunately Spohr, at a later period, was no longer in possession of these, as they remained in the hands of Mr. Birnbaum, for whose benefit the first representation of the opera was intended. The highly characteristic mariner’s song only appeared some time afterwards, arranged by himself with four-handed accompaniment for the pianoforte, and was published by Paul of Dresden.

In April 1839 Spohr received a pressing invitation from England to direct the performance of his oratorio “Des Heiland’s letzte Stunden” at the grand musical festival which was to take place in September at Norwich. After he had succeeded in obtaining the requisite leave of absence from the Prince, the customary tour during the summer holidays was this time limited to a shorter excursion, in which he made visits to his relatives and friends. He next proceeded to Holzminden—where Spohr’s younger brothers Augustus and Charles resided with their families, the former, as a fiscal assessor, and the latter a law official of the duchy of Brunswick. Thence he went on to Gandersheim to visit his venerable parents, and lastly to Catlenburg, to Councillor Lüder. As a matter of course on this journey he was not without his violin, and wherever Spohr came he found grateful hearers, who considered themselves superlatively happy in listening to his play. More than any of the other pieces that he executed, his newest, charming composition, a Spanish rondo for pianoforte and violin, afforded them delight; this soon became one of the most favorite pieces of music in Cassel also, and remained so up to a very recent period. At a later period, when it was published by Mechetti in Vienna as Op. 111, there appeared simultaneously a pianoforte arrangement of it for four hands by Czerny, which was certainly most welcome to all who had not the advantage of hearing the original composition executed by a distinguished violinist.

Returned to Cassel, Spohr finished his “Historical Symphony in the style and taste of four different periods” which he had begun before he set out on his journey. (Theme the first: The period of Bach-Händel, 1720. Adagio: Haydn-Mozart 1780. Scherzo: Beethoven period 1810. Finale: The most modern period 1840) a work, which afforded him not only during its creation, but also upon the occasions of its closely following performances in Cassel, the greatest satisfaction. Abroad also, and first in London, where he sold it to the Philharmonic Society for the term of one year, and subsequently in Germany, where he was permitted to make it known after the lapse of that period, it met with the most lively reception. Many voices were, however, raised in blame, and of these that of Schumann, in his musical journal, was the severest in tone. On the other hand Baron Lannoy, in Vienna, reported that the work had been received with great favour: Mendelssohn sent in a most flattering account of its reception at Leipzic; and many letters full of praise arrived from England.

In the beginning of September Spohr set out upon the journey to England, accompanied by his wife and his friend Mrs. von Malsburg, with whom he had been many years acquainted.[36]

After an exceedingly rough passage, which delayed his arrival in London by six hours, Spohr was very agreeably surprised in the midst of the confusion incidental to such circumstances, on being addressed by a gentleman, a stranger to him, exhibiting an order from the custom-house authorities, to deliver Spohr’s luggage without examination, and who then took him and his female fellow-travellers speedily and safely to land in a boat, where a coach was in waiting to take him to the hospitable house of professor Edward Taylor. In the amiable family-circle of that gentleman and surrounded by the genuine English usages and comforts which had so many charms for the guests, they soon found themselves at home, and a few days sufficed to lay the foundation of a life-long friendship. As their farther journey permitted but a short stay in London, it was necessary to make the best use of the time to see the objects most worthy of notice in the metropolis, which filled the travellers with wonder and admiration. The visit to Westminster Abbey made a deep impression upon all, and this was expressed in the letters they sent home:[37] “The very entry into this majestic structure, which is certainly the finest of all the objects of note in London, makes an impression so deep and solemn upon the mind, that we could scarcely repress our emotion; and in reality one seems to move no longer among things of this world. The tones of a splendid organ may have contributed to this feeling,—for divine service was just being performed,—and this was followed by sacred psalmody sung in double chorus so pure, so sweet and executed with such feeling, that they seemed like the voices of angels from the realms of bliss. We had neither of us ever heard any thing like it before. Now again the notes of the organ pealed forth, and we distinguished harmonies of Spohr’s, and soon recognised the touching sounds of his mass for ten voices; and then the grand overture to “Des Heilands letzten Stunden” was splendidly performed by the celebrated organist Tarle....”