Chronological Index of Contents.
Reading edition
Vol. I.
Page
1784 to 1799. Spohr’s childhood and youth at Seesen and Brunswick.—Musical proclivities, and the instrument of his choice.—His first instructors on the violin.—First attempts at composition.—Sent by his father to Hamburg to seek his fortune.—Disappointed hopes, and return to Brunswick.—Singular interview with the Duke of Brunswick.—Appointed violinist in the court orchestra of the Duke.—Undertakes the musical education of his brother Ferdinand.—His admiration of the music of Mozart.—Disturbs the Duchess of Brunswick at her party of “ombre” with his “murderous fiddling.”1
1802. Spohr proceeds with Franz Eck to St. Petersburg.—Revisits Hamburg.—Cultivates at intervals his fondness for drawing and painting in water-colours.—His first love.—Dussek.—Spohr’s first published work, violin concerto Op. 1.—Stay at Strelitz.—Romantic adventure.—Second capture of Spohr’s heart.—Königsberg.—St. Petersburg.—Impressions, and incidents during his stay in that Capital.—Returns by sea to Germany.—Arrival at Brunswick14
1803. Appointed court musician at Brunswick62
1804. Musical tour to Leipsic, Dresden and Berlin67
1805. Appointed Concert-Master at Gotha.—Present with Prince Louis Ferdinand at the military manœuvres at Magdeburg84
1806. Marriage of Spohr with Dorette Scheidler95
1807. Musical tour to Weimar, Leipsic, Dresden, Prague, Munich, Frankfort, Stuttgard and Heidelberg101
1808. Pedestrian tour through the Harz with his pupils112
Composes his opera of “Alruna”115
Congress at Erfurt117
1809. Musical tour to Leipsic, Breslau, Berlin and Hamburg128
1810. Musical festival at Frankenhausen139
Performance of the opera: “Zweikampf mit der Geliebten,” at Hamburg153
1812. Performance of the oratorio: “Das jüngste Gericht” at the Musical festival at Erfurt157
Musical tour to Leipsic, Prague and Vienna159
1813. Appointed director of the orchestra at the theatre An der Wien168
Composes his opera of “Faust”178
1814. Composes his cantata: “The Liberation of Germany”182
1815. Journey to Brünn, Breslau, Carolath.—Third musical festival at Frankenhausen203
Musical tour to Wurzburg, Nuremberg and Munich211
1816. Frankfort.—Strasbourg, &c.217
Visit to Switzerland234
Journey to Milan251
Journey to Venice270
Journey to Bologna, Florence and Rome283
1817. Departure from Rome.—Arrival at Naples325
Vol. II.
1817. Residence in Naples1
Ascends Mount Vesuvius3
Departure from Naples to Rome32
“Miserere” in the Sistine Chapel36
Departure from Rome41
Addenda in reference to the Italian journey47
Visit to Holland53
Appointed director of the orchestra at Frankfort53
1818. Composes the opera: “Zemire and Azor”58
Journey to the musical festival at Mannheim59
1819. Leaves Frankfort66
Musical tour to Berlin, Dresden, Leipsic and Cassel68
Visit to Brussels68
1820. Journey to London72
First concert at the Philharmonic Society82
Spohr’s concert at the New Argyll Rooms, London94
Mr. Logier’s Musical Academy98
Return to Germany102
Musical festival at Quedlinburg105
Journey to Paris by way of Frankfort and Heidelberg105
1821. Return to Gandersheim134
Concerts at Alexisbad and Pyrmont135
Removal to Dresden138
1822. Appointed director of the orchestra of the court theatre at Cassel141
1823. Institutes the Society of St. Cecilia147
Composes the opera: “Jessonda” in Cassel, where it is first performed148
1824. “Jessonda” performed in Leipsic153
1825. “Jessonda” performed in Berlin157
Composes the opera of “The Mountain Sprite” in Cassel, where it is first performed157
1826. Composes the oratorio of: “Die letzten Dinge” in Cassel, where it is first performed159
Musical festival at Düsseldorf161
1827. Composes the opera: “Pietro von Abano”163
1828. Musical festival at Halberstadt165
1829. Musical festival at Nordhausen166
1830. Composes the opera: “The Alchymist”168
1831. Celebration festival upon the occasion of the grant of a constitution to Hesse172
Celebration of Spohr’s “Silver Wedding”173
Terminates his work “The Violin School”176
1832. Composes the symphony: “Die Weihe der Töne”178
Celebration of the “Golden Wedding” of Spohr’s parents180
1833. Musical festival at Halberstadt183
1834. Journey to Marienbad184
Death of Spohr’s first wife187
1835. Finishes the oratorio: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden” (Calvary) in Cassel, where it is performed for the first time188
Journey to Sandfort in Holland188
1836. Spohr’s second marriage194
Journey to Leipsic, Dresden and Saxon Switzerland195
Musical festival at Brunswick197
Millenium-jubilee at Paderborn199
1837. Projected musical festival at Cassel202
Journey to Prague204
Vienna—Salzburg, &c.206
1838. Death of Theresa Spohr209
Journey to Carlsbad209
Continuation of Spohr’s Biography by his family210
1839. Composes his “Historical Symphony”215
Departure to the musical festival at Norwich215
1840. Journey to the musical festival at Aix-la-Chapelle227
Journey to Lübeck and Hamburg229
1841. Journey to Switzerland by way of Stuttgard and Hechingen232
Musical festival at Lucerne235
Composes his “Double Symphony”237
Musical performance in honour of Mozart in Cassel239
1842. Journey to Carlsbad240
1843. Invitation to Prague244
Journey to London to direct the “Fall of Babylon”249
1844. Composes the opera: “The Crusaders”257
Journey to Paris257
Journey to the musical festival at Brunswick260
1845. His opera of “The Crusaders” performed for the first time, at Cassel261
Journey to Oldenburg, Carlsbad and Berlin262
Journey to Bonn to the inauguration of the memorial erected to Beethoven270
1846. Journey to Leipsic and Carlsbad276
1847. Spohr’s twenty-fifth Anniversary as director at Cassel282
Spohr’s journey to London287
Musical performances in commemoration of the death of Mendelssohn291
1848. Festivities at Cassel293
1849. Journey to Leipsic and Carlsbad293
1850. Spohr’s fall upon the ice295
Composes his symphony “The Seasons”295
Journey to Leipsic, Breslau and Berlin296
1851. Journey to Switzerland and Italy300
Journey to Göttingen300
1852. Law-suit relative to the fine imposed upon Spohr for his absence on a journey without permission301
Journey to London to direct the performance of his opera: “Faust”302
Appointment of a second director of the orchestra, Mr. Bott at Cassel306
1853. Journey to London to direct the performance of his opera “Jessonda,” &c.308
1854. Journey to Switzerland, Munich and Alexandersbad314
1855. Journey to Hannover316
Journey to Hamburg and Lübeck319
1856. Journey to Dresden, Saxon Switzerland and Prague321
Journey to the Harz321
1857. Journey to Holland323
Spohr pensioned off by the Elector of Hesse325
Breaks his arm327
1858. Journey to Magdeburg, &c.327
Journey to Bremen329
Journey in Prague to the jubilee of the conservatory329
Visit to Alexandersbad331
Journey to Wiesbaden to the musical festival of the Middle-Rhine331
Journey to Leipsic331
His Last composition334
1859. Journey to Meiningen. Spohr directs an orchestra for the last time336
Journey to Detmold338
Journey to Alexandersbad and Würzburg339
Spohr’s last illness and death341
My father, Carl Heinrich Spohr, Doctor of Medecine, afterwards Medical Councillor, was the son of a Clergyman at Woltershausen in the district of Hildesheim. He married, November 26, 1782, Ernestine Henke, daughter of the Clergyman of the Aegydian church of Brunswick, and at first resided with her parents at the parsonage[1]. I was the eldest child of this marriage, and was born April 5, 1784. Two years later, my father was transferred as district physician to Seesen. My earliest recollections reach back to that removal; for the impression made upon me by my mother’s weeping, after having taken leave of her parents, and our arrival at the simple and somewhat rustic house at Seesen, have remained with me up to the present time. I remember also the smell of the newly whitewashed walls striking me as disagreeable, and even now I still retain an uncommon acuteness and sensibility of the senses.
In Seesen were born my four brothers, and one sister. My parents were musical: my father played the flute, and my mother, a pupil of the Conductor Schwaneberger in Brunswick, played on the piano with great ability, and sang the Italian bravuras of that time. As they practiced music very often in the evening, a sense and love for the art was early awakened in me. Gifted with a clear soprano voice, I at first began to sing, and already in my fourth or fifth year I was able to sing duets with my mother at our evening music. It was at this time that my father, yielding to my eagerly expressed wish, bought me a violin at the yearly fair, upon which I now played incessantly. At first I tried to pick out the melodies I had been used to sing, and was more than happy when my mother accompanied me.
Soon after, I had lessons from Herr Riemenschneider, and I still remember, that, after the first lesson, in which I had learned to play the G-sharp accord upon all four strings, in an extasy at the harmony, I hastened into the kitchen to my mother, and arpeggiod the chord to her so incessantly that she was obliged to drive me out. When I had learned the fingering of the violin from notes, I was also allowed to practise music with the others in the evening, as violinist, and there were particularly three trios by Kalkbrenner, for piano, flute and violin, which, after being studied, were executed in presence of our circle of friends.
About the year 1790 or 91 a French emigrant, named Dufour, came to Seesen. Although an amateur, only, he was an accomplished violinist and violoncellist. He settled there; and being supplied with free board by the more wealthy inhabitants, maintained himself by giving French lessons. The days on which he used to come to my parents, we always practised music, and I still remember having been moved to tears the first time I heard him play. I now gave my parents no rest until I had lessons from him.
Dufour, astonished at my rapid progress, was the first to persuade my parents to devote me entirely to music. My father, who had predestined me for the study of medecine, was from his love of music soon brought to agree to this; but he had a hard struggle with my grandfather, whose idea of a Musician was limited to that of a Tavern-fiddler who played to dancers. Subsequently, after I had been so early appointed Kammermusicus[2] in Brunswick, I had the satisfaction to induce my grandfather, who loved me very much, to adopt a higher opinion respecting my chosen career as a musical artiste.
It was while I took lessons from M. Dufour, that I made my first attempts at composition, but without yet having had any instruction in harmony. They consisted in duets for two violins, and I executed them with my teacher at our musical soirées; astonishing my parents with them in the highest degree. To this day, I recollect the proud feeling of being already able to appear before the friends of the house as a composer. As a reward, I received from my parents a gala dress, consisting of a red jacket with steel buttons, yellow breeches, and laced boots with tassels; a dress for which I had long prayed in vain. The duets, which my father has carefully preserved, are indeed incorrect and childish, but possess a certain form and a flowing melody.
This first brilliant success in composition, so inspired me, that from this time I devoted nearly every hour which the school allowed me, to similar attempts: I even ventured upon a little opera, the text of which I took from “Weisse’s Kinderfreund.” It may be mentioned as characteristic, that, I began with the title-page, and first of all painted it very finely with Indian ink; then followed the overture, then a chorus, then an air, and there the work came to a standstill. As I had never yet seen an opera performed, I took the model for these musical pieces from Hiller’s operas “Die Jagd”, and “Lottchen am Hofe”, of which my mother had a pianoforte arrangement, and which she had often sung with me and my father. But I soon felt that I needed both knowledge and experience for such an undertaking, and I therefore set to work at other attempts. In this however, I had a hard struggle with my father, who strongly insisted that every work once begun should be completed before another was commenced; and only because my father was convinced that I was unequal to so great a task, was an exception made on this occasion; but it was never allowed again. To this severity I owe my perseverance in working, and I have always recollected the paternal precept.
As my father liked to superintend the labours of his son, he allowed me to establish myself in his study, not being at all disturbed by the humming and whistling of the young composer. When I had written down anything wrong, which happened frequently enough, and was obliged to scratch it out, my father heard it at once, and would say half angrily: “Now the stupid boy is making windows again!”—for thus he designated the marks I made across the lines, in scratching out. I was very sensitive to this, and that is perhaps the reason why I acquired early the habit of writing off a clean score without erasing anything.
Since it was now determined, on the advice of Dufour, that I should devote myself entirely to music; Dufour insisted that I should be sent to Brunswick to enjoy the advantage of better lessons, particularly in theory. This could not take place till I was confirmed. According to a law strictly observed in the Dutchy of Brunswick, confirmation could not take place before the age of fourteen; in order therefore to lose no time, I was sent to my grandfather in the district of Hildesheim, where it was left to the decision of the clergyman as to when the children could be admitted to confirmation. Here, during the winter, I had lessons from my clever grandfather, both in religion, and other things; but music-lessons were not attended to, for neither my grandfather nor my uncles understood anything about it. I was therefore obliged to walk twice a week to Alefeld with my violin, to take lessons from the precentor there. Tedious as were these journeys, owing to the frequent severity of the winter weather, I was always pleased with them, chiefly, indeed, because I felt that I was above my teacher, and often brought him into difficulties by my fluent reading of the notes; and besides, I had not unfrequently the secret triumph of seeing him brought to a standstill.
Half way to Alefeld, stood a solitary mill. I once entered there during a heavy shower of rain, and gained the good will of the miller’s wife to such a degree, that from that time I was obliged to call every day I passed by, and was treated with coffee, cakes and fruit; for which I used to improvise something upon my violin by way of thanks. I still remember having once so completely ravished her by playing Wranitzky’s variations upon “Du bist liederlich”, into which all the juggles with which Paganini afterwards enchanted the world were introduced, that she would not let me leave her during the whole day.
Soon after returning from Woltershausen, I was sent to Brunswick, where I was received into the house of the rich gingerbread-baker Michaelis, as one of his own children, and treated with kindness by all the members of the family; my father had been their physician and had cured Michaelis’ wife of a dropsy.
I commenced my musical and other studies with eagerness. I received instruction on the Violin from Kammermusicus Kunisch, a well grounded and amiable teacher, to whom I owe much. Less friendly was my instructor in harmony and counterpoint, an old organist named Hartung; and I still remember how severely he once rebuked me, when, soon after the beginning of the lessons, I showed him a composition of my own. “There is time enough for that,” said he, “you must learn something first.” But after some months he himself encouraged me to make trials in composition: he corrected me, however, so mercilessly, and scratched out so many ideas which to me appeared sublime, that I lost all desire to show him anything further. Not long afterwards, our lessons were brought to a close by the ill health of the old man; and these were the only lessons in theory, I ever had. I was now obliged to seek for instruction in theoretical works. But the reading of good scores was of special advantage to me; these I obtained from the Theatrical library through the interest of my teacher Kunisch. In this manner I soon learned to write harmony correctly; and I now ventured for the first time to appear publicly in Brunswick with a composition for the violin. This took place in the School-concert of the Katharinen-Schule, which I attended as a Secundaner. These concerts were instituted by the Prefect for the practice of the School-choir; but from several members of the Hof-Kapelle, the Town musicians, and accomplished amateurs taking part in them, they became so important, that greater works could always be executed, such as Cantatas, Symphonies, and instrumental Concertos. From this time everything was studied very exactly, and the performances, which were held in the tolerably large saloon of the head class, soon became so celebrated, that it enabled a trifling entrance money to be charged to defray the expenses. At one of these concerts I thus appeared for the first time in my native-town, and achieved so much success that I was invited to assist at the Subscription concerts at the Deutsches Haus, and received the usual remuneration. This first payment which I earned as an artist made me very happy, nor have I forgotten the proud feeling with which I announced it to my parents. I now frequently played solos at the subscription concerts, and generally some of my own compositions. I was also allowed to play in the Orchestra of the Theatre for my own practice, and, thereby, became familiar with much good music.
At this time, still possessing my clear, high soprano voice, it gave me much pleasure also to join the School chorus in its perambulations through the town. The leader, who since then has become celebrated as the Bass singer, Strohmeyer, gave the soprano solos to me very readily, from my being able to sing them without fault at sight.
My teacher Kunisch, who interested himself for me in a paternal manner, now insisted that I should take lessons of the Concert-Director Maucourt, the best violinist of the Brunswick orchestra. My father agreed readily, although it was much against his grain to pay the higher charge for this instruction; and the more so, as I had been obliged to leave Michaelis’ house from his inability to give me up a special apartment, and that it was quite impossible for me to play and compose quietly in the same room with the children of the house. A further consequence of this change of dwelling was, that my father was obliged to arrange with his former aquaintances about my having free board; this was very galling to his ambitious son. Nevertheless I was treated in a friendly way by all these people, and thus the humiliating feeling of my position was soon dissipated. I now, with another Secundaner, inhabited a room in the house of the organist Bürger; here however I could practise and compose undisturbed, for our landlord, who interested himself in my musical studies, placed his music room and pianoforte at my disposal.
With M. Maucourt’s instruction, I progressed more and more towards becoming (for my age) an excellent solo player: and after the lapse of about a year, as my father was unable to defray the great expense of my living in Brunswick, on account of the growing up of his other children, he considered me to have made progress enough to enable me to try my luck in the world as a travelling “Artiste.” He determined therefore to send me first to Hamburgh, where he had acquaintances to whom he could give me letters of recommendation.
Accustomed to obey my father in everything, and well disposed to consider myself a shining light, I had no objection to this. If it appear hazardous in the extreme to send a boy of fourteen into the world, left entirely to himself, and trust everything to fortune, its explanation is to be found in the character and life-experience of my father. Bold and enterprising in the highest degree, he also had already emancipated himself in his sixteenth year. In order to escape punishment at school, he had run away from Hildesheim, and supported himself most precariously in Hamburgh, first as a teacher of languages, and afterwards, by giving lessons in the Büsching Commercial school. He then attended several Universities, struggling through great privations by help of his enterprising spirit and unwearying activity; and, at last, without any help from home; after a most adventurous youth, succeeded in establishing himself in practice as a physician in Brunswick. He found it therefore very natural that his son should try the same course, although my mother shook her head thoughtfully at it. Scantily provided with money for the journey, but furnished with much good advice, I was sent by the mail to Hamburgh. Still, filled with the lively impression made upon me by the crowded Commercial City, and the ships, now seen for the first time, I went, full of hope and in high spirits, to Professor Büsching, to whom I had a letter of introduction from my father. But how soon were those hopes to be destroyed! The Professor, after he had read the letter with increasing astonishment, exclaimed: “Your father is then still, the same as ever! What madness to send a boy into the world trusting merely to good luck!” He then explained to me, that, in order to arrange a concert in Hamburgh, one must either possess a well known name, or at least, the means to bear the great expenses it would entail. But, that in summer, when all the rich people were at their country seats, such an undertaking would be quite impossible. Completely down cast by this explanation, I could not answer a single word, and was hardly able to repress my tears. I took leave in silence, and hastened to my lodging full of despair, without thinking of delivering the other letters of recommendation. Here, upon thinking over my situation, the certainty that my money would hardly suffice for a couple of days, terrified me to such a degree, that, in thought, I already saw myself in the claws of the crimps of whom my father had drawn a warning picture. I made up my mind at once, packed up my violin and other things again, sent them to Brunswick by the mail, paid my bill, and with the scanty remainder of my money, which might perhaps suffice to my subsistence, I set out on foot, on my return to Brunswick.
Some miles from the town, calmer reflection brought regret for this overhaste; but it was too late; had it not been so, I would have turned back. I said to myself that it was foolish not at least to have delivered the other letters first. They might perhaps have procured for me the aquaintance of some musical person who would have appreciated my talent, and have procured some information how arrangements might have been made for a Concert. To this was added the humiliating thought that my father who had been so enterprising himself, would upbraid me as childish, cowardly and thoughtless. Thus, saddened to the depth of my soul, I wandered farther, thinking continually how I might avoid the humiliation of returning to my paternal home without having effected anything whatever.
At last, the idea struck me of addressing myself to the Duke of Brunswick, to solicit from him the means to carry on my studies. I knew that the duke had earlier played the violin himself, and I therefore hoped that he would recognise my talent. When (thought I) he has heard me play but one of my concertos, my fortune is made. With newly awakened courage I now journeyed onward, and got over the rest of the road in the most cheerful disposition of mind.
Scarcely arrived in Brunswick, I concocted a petition to the Duke, in which I laid before him my whole situation, ending with the request either for aid towards improving myself, or, for a situation in the ducal orchestra. As I knew that the Duke was in the habit of walking every morning in the park of the Palace, I sought him there with my petition in my pocket, and had the good fortune to have it accepted by him. After having glanced over it and asked me some questions about my parents and former Instructors, which I fearlessly answered, he enquired who had worded the petition. “Well, who but I myself? I need no help for that,” was my reply, half offended at the doubt as to my ability. The Duke smiled and said: “Well, come to the palace to-morrow at eleven; we will then speak further about your request.” Who so happy as I! Punctually at eleven I presented myself before the groom of the chambers and requested to be announced to the Duke. “And who may Er[3] be?” snarled the groom to me in unfriendly tone. “I am no Er. I am here by the Duke’s command, and Er has to announce me”, was my indignant reply. The groom went to announce me, and before my excitement had subsided I was introduced. My first word to the Duke was therefore, “Your Serene Highness! your servant calls me “Er”; I must earnestly remonstrate against that.” The duke laughed aloud, and said: “Come, calm yourself; he will not do it again”. Then, after having put several questions to me to which I gave the most unembarrassed answers, he said: “I have enquired about your abilities from your last teacher Maucourt, and am now desirous to hear you play one of your own compositions; this can take place at the next concert in the apartments of the Duchess. I will have it intimated to the director Schwaneberger.”
In most happy mood I left the Palace, hastened to my lodging, and prepared myself for the concert in the most careful manner.
The Court concerts in the apartments of the duchess took place once a week, and were most disagreeable to the musicians of the Ducal Orchestra: for, according to the then prevailing custom, cards were played during the music. In order not to be disturbed, the Duchess had ordered the orchestra, always to play piano. The leader therefore left out the trumpets and kettle drums, and insisted strongly that no forte should be played in its full strength. As this was not always to be avoided in Symphonies, however softly the band might play, the Duchess ordered a thick carpet to be spread out under the orchestra, in order to deaden the sound. One heard therefore the words “I play”, “I stand” and so forth, much louder than the music.
However, the evening on which I played there for the first time, the card tables and carpet had disappeared; the orchestra, informed that the Duke would be present, had well prepared themselves, and the music went on excellently. As I then still appeared without any timidity, and well knew that my whole future fate depended upon the success of that day, I played with real inspiration; and must have surpassed the expectations of the Duke, for he, even while I was playing, cried repeatedly “bravo”. After I had finished, he came to me, patted me on the shoulder, and said, “The talent is there; I will take care of you. Come to me to-morrow.” In an extasy of delight I returned to my lodging, wrote immediately to my parents of my good fortune, and could get no sleep for a long time, from excitement and joy.
The next day, the Duke said to me, “there is a place vacant in the orchestra, I will give it to you. Be diligent and behave well. If after some years you have made good progress, I will send you to some great master; for here you have no great model to follow!” This last speech filled me with astonishment, for till then I had considered the playing of my Instructor Maucourt, as the utmost that could be attained.
In this manner, in the beginning of my fifteenth year I was appointed Kammermusicus. The Rescript of my appointment which was drawn up later, is dated August 2nd, 1799. Although the salary was only 100 thalers, yet by great economy, and with the help of other trifling earnings, it sufficed to me; and I did not now need any further help from home. Nay, I was even happy enough to be enabled to render the education of the other children easier for my parents, by taking my brother Ferdinand, who was eight years younger than I, and who showed an inclination and talent for music, to live with me, and give him my assistance to become an artist.
From this time, the young Kammermusicus was in full activity. His duties consisted in playing at the Court-concerts and in the Theatre, for which latter, a French operatic and dramatic company had been engaged shortly before. I therefore became earlier acquainted with the French dramatical music than with the German; and this was not without influence upon the tendency of my taste, and upon my compositions of that time. At last, during the two fairs, a German operatic company from Magdeburgh was also engaged, and the grandeur of Mozart’s operatic music burst upon me. Mozart now became for my life time my ideal and model. Even now I well remember the transport and dreamy enchantment with which I heard for the first time, the “Zauberflöte” and “Don Juan”; and that I had no rest until I had got the scores lent to me, and had brooded over them half the night long.
Neither did I fail to be present at all the other musical parties in the town: I was a member of all the quartetto circles. In one of these which had been formed by two of the singers of the French opera, who played the violin, I heard for the first time the quartettos of Beethoven, and from that time raved no less about them than I had before done about those of Haydn and Mozart. With such constant practice, my playing and taste could not fail to become more and more cultivated. The presence of two foreign violinists who at this time visited Brunswick, produced also a favourable influence upon me. These were Seidler, and the boy Pixis. The former impressed me by his beautiful tone and his pure playing, the latter by his execution, which for his years, was extraordinary.
I very often played in private parties, with the brothers Pixis, and in their second public concert I performed in a double concerto, by Pleyel the violinist. After such encouragement I always studied with redoubled diligence. The duke, who did not lose sight of me, had allowed me to inform him whenever I intended to execute a new composition at the Court concerts, and he was sometimes present, to the great annoyance of the duchess, who was thus disturbed in her party at Ombre. One day when the duke was not there, and for that reason nobody was listening to the music; the prohibition regarding the forte being renewed, and the dreadful carpet again spread, I tried a new concerto of my own. I can only call these performances rehearsals, because no preparation was ever made beforehand, excepting on the days upon which we knew that the duke would be present. Engrossed with my work which, I heard for the first time with the orchestra, I quite forgot the prohibition, and played with all the vigour and fire of inspiration; so that I even carried away the orchestra with me. Suddenly, in the middle of the solo, my arm was seized by a lackey, who whispered to me, “Her Highness sends me to tell you that you are not to scrape away so furiously.” Enraged at this interruption I played, if possible, yet more loudly; but was afterwards obliged to put up with a rebuke from the Marshal of the Court.
The Duke, to whom I complained the next day; laughed heartily: but on this occasion he at the same time adverted to his former promise, and told me to choose a teacher at once from among the great Violinists of the day. Without hesitation I named Viotti, and the duke approved of the choice. He was immediately written to, to London, where he resided at the time. Alas! He refused the request: he wrote word that “he had become a wine merchant,”—“occupied himself but seldom with music, and therefore could not receive any pupils”[4].
Next to Viotti, Ferdinand Eck, in Paris was at that time the most celebrated violinist. He was therefore next applied to. But he also, would take no pupils. A short time before, when engaged in the Court orchestra at Munich, he had eloped with a rich countess; had married her in Switzerland, and now led an affluent life, partly in Paris, and partly upon an estate near Nancy which had been bought with the fortune of the countess. He, however, proposed his younger brother and pupil, Francis Eck, as master. As he was at that time travelling through Germany, and had appeared with great success at Berlin, he was written to; and, in case of his accepting the proposition, invited to Brunswick. Eck came; played at Court, and pleased the Duke greatly. As however he was about to start for Petersburgh upon an artistic tour, I was sent with him as a pupil for a year; and it was settled that I should bear half the expenses of the journey: and that Eck, at the end of the instruction should receive a suitable reward from the Duke. A diary of this journey exists, which from some extracts may perhaps be of interest. It commences a few days before our departure (which took place April 24, 1802), in the following childish manner; notwithstanding I was already a youth of eighteen.
“The Leave-taking.”
“To the most sorrowful hours of life, belong those of leave taking from loving parents, and tried friends. Not even the prospect of an agreeable and profitable journey can brighten them; time only, and the hope of a speedy meeting again, can assuage their pain. From these also do I expect relief on recommencing my musical tour. Farewell, therefore, parents and friends! The remembrance of the many happy hours enjoyed with you will always accompany me.”
We first went to Hamburgh, where Eck intended giving concerts. I regarded this town again, from which I had fled some years ago so full of despair, with a certain degree of self-satisfaction and content.
After Eck had delivered his letters of recommendation, the lessons began. Concerning these, the following is written in my diary:
“This morning, April 30, Herr Eck commenced my lessons. But alas! how was I humiliated! I, who imagined myself one of the first virtuosi of Germany, could not play one single bar to his satisfaction; but was obliged to repeat it ten times at least, in order in some degree to gain his approbation. My bow-ing particularly displeased him, to alter which, I now also see is very necessary. At first it will of course be difficult for me; but at last, convinced of the great advantage of the change, I hope to accomplish it.”
The diary now describes everything that the travellers saw and heard. Attractive as these were to me, yet I did not neglect my musical studies for them. The forenoon, which in Hamburgh lasts till three o’clock, was devoted entirely to practising what Eck gave me. It was not long before he expressed himself favourably as to my progress. Already on May 10, I wrote:
“Herr Eck begins to be more satisfied with my playing, and was kind enough to assure me yesterday that I was now able to play the concerto I had studied under him, without fault.”
The intervals between practising, I employed in painting. From my earliest youth I had applied myself to drawing and painting in water colours, and had attained some proficiency without ever having had any good instruction. Yes, I had even hesitated for some time, as to which of the two arts, music or painting, I should choose for my profession. I now made my first attempt at portrait painting. The 12th of May I wrote:
“On Sunday I commenced a miniature which I finished this forenoon. I tried to paint myself, and am quite satisfied with the result. This, and playing on the violin have occupied me so fully, that I have not left the house for four days. I sent this picture to my parents, and then commenced painting Herr Eck, who was patient enough to sit to me.”
It is now time to mention that the young artist, from his earliest youth, was very susceptible to female beauty, and already when a boy fell in love with every beautiful woman. It is therefore not to be wondered at, that, the diary of the youth of eighteen contains many pages of the outpourings of the emotions of his heart. But there is great comicality in the earnestness with which these fleeting inclinations are spoken of.
In Hamburgh it was a Miss Lütgens, the daughter of a music master, who particularly won my heart. After a visit paid to the father, I wrote the following:
“His eldest daughter, a girl of thirteen, a very fine, innocent creature, pleased me particularly by her agreable and modest demeanour. She is very beautiful, has hair that curls naturally, very lively brown eyes, and a neck of dazzling whiteness. Her father, whose hobby is counterpoint and harmony, entertained me continually with the resolution and combination of the chords; finding in me the most patient listener to his sermon, while I would much have greatly preferred to speak with his amiable daughter about the combination of hearts and lips.”
In order to a more frequent near approach, I asked permission to take her likeness, which was willingly granted. But before the sittings commenced, I was warned by Herr Eck, whom oddly enough I had made my confidant, that she was a coquette, and unworthy of my regard. At first I could not believe that a girl of thirteen could already be a coquette, but after the first sitting, I became of the same opinion, and wrote the following remarks:
“Henrietta begged me to take her portrait in the dress which she wore, assuring me that she had chosen it expressly; for her other dresses were not cut low enough, and covered her neck too much. I was astonished at her vanity, and the sight of this charming neck which otherwise would have enchanted me now saddened me; being convinced that she was already infected by the vanity and shamelessness of the Hamburgh ladies. While I painted, she chatted with her cousin, (an ugly but vain girl,) of nothing but the dress she intended wearing at the ball which was to take place on the following evening. Quite vexed, I returned home, and wished that we might now leave as soon as possible, for Hamburgh began to displease me more and more. My sociable heart, which could so willingly attach itself to any one, finds here nobody. In this girl, I thought to have found something on which to set my affections; but I see I am again deceived. I had intended making a copy of this portrait for myself; but I am still too much embittered against her to be able to do so. Neither have I now any wish to go to the ball.”
But two days afterwards I wrote, “This forenoon I worked diligently at Miss Lütgens’ portrait—and began also a copy of it for myself. After dinner I went to her..... Henrietta received me with reproaches for not having been at the ball.... To-day, she was so modestly dressed, and spoke so reasonably, that I occupied myself more with her than with my painting, which was the cause of my not quite finishing it. It is really a thousand pities that this girl with so much talent and good sense, lives in such vulgar society, and is thereby led away into the follies of Hamburgh.”
With the presentation of the portrait, and our departure, which took place immediately after; this little romance, that never came to a declaration, terminates.
With respect to the point I had at that time reached in my art, and my views of the latter, my diary shews proofs at every page, of my opinion of what I heard in Hamburgh. Without doubt those judgments are pronounced with the naïve assurance that belongs to youth, and require without a doubt many modifications, if these were possible after the lapse of so long a time. The opinion about Operas, and their performance, may be well passed over, for those works have for the most part, disappeared from the repertoire, and the singers, also, have passed away.
But respecting other matters, as well as those of my Instructor, the following incidents may be mentioned.
“May 5. To-day we were invited to dinner by Herr Kiekhöver, and there met Dussek and some other musicians. This was very agreeable to me, as I had long earnestly wished to hear Dussek play. Herr Kiekhöver and his wife are very kind people, and in their house good taste is combined with splendour. The conversation at table, was almost always in French. As I am not well versed in that language I could take but little part in it. But, I took all the more in the music which followed. Herr Eck, began with a quartett of his own composition, and enchanted all the listeners. Then Herr Dussek played a sonata for the piano, of his own composition, which however did not seem to please particularly. Now followed a second quartett by Herr Eck, which so delighted Herr Dussek, that he enthusiastially embraced him. In conclusion, Herr Dussek played a new quintett he had composed in Hamburgh, which was praised to the skies. However, it did not entirely please me; for, despite the numerous modulations, it became tedious towards the end, and the worst was, that it had neither form nor rhythm, and the end could quite as well have been made the beginning as not.”
At a musical party at M. Thornton’s country house, I became acquainted with Fräulein Grund, at that time the most esteemed singer of Hamburgh. My diary speaks of her with great enthusiasm. Among other remarks:
“At first, the conversation was very vapourous; for the merchants spoke of nothing but the contrary winds that prevented their ships entering the Elbe. By and by however, it became more interesting, particularly when Fräulein Grund joined in it. I had already admired her correct and polished language, and her captivating and obliging manners. But when at table, she spoke alternately French with one, and English with another, and that one gentleman informed me she spoke and wrote four languages correctly, I began to envy her, and to be ashamed that I, as a man, was so far behind this girl. She had also attained great proficiency in music, and enchanted us so much yesterday evening by her singing, that Herr Eck proposed to her to sing at his Concert, which she also promised to do. My neighbour at dinner, informed me that her father maintained his family by giving Instruction in Music, and spent a great deal upon the education of his children. In this, his eldest daughter assisted him greatly; since she not only instructed her brothers and sisters in music and languages, but also earned a considerable sum by giving lessons in the first houses in Hamburgh. I would gladly have made her acquaintance at once, but she was so surrounded by young men that I could not approach her.”
My diary mentions the following with regard to Herr Eck’s public concert in the Logensaal on the Drehbahn on the eighteenth of May:
“Herr Eck had great reason to be satisfied with the orchestra, for his concerti were admirably accompanied; not so the arias of Fräulein Grund, which were somewhat difficult for the wind instruments. At the head of this well drilled orchestra, is Massoneau, well known by his charming compositions. The appearance of this man by no means indicates his great talent; for his manner of playing and his bow-ing are so bad, that one might take him for the greatest bungler—and yet he does not direct at all badly.”
Our stay at Hamburgh lasted till June 6. Herr Dussek who was commissioned to arrange the concert at a festival with which the English living in Hamburgh were about to celebrate the 4th of June, in honour of their king, engaged Herr Eck to perform a violin concerto. It was not until the rehearsal which took place on the evening of June 3, at nine o’clock, that Herr Eck discovered that the concert was to be given in the open air, which, until then, had never been mentioned. A tent had been erected, in which the orchestra, about one hundred strong, was disposed on a terrace-like platform. Herr Dussek first tried a Cantata, composed by him for the occasion, and which, had an uncommon effect upon me; for not only was it well written and thoroughly well studied, but from the accompainment of a large organ which had been erected in the back ground of the orchestra and “from its being executed in the silence of night, it partook of so solemn a character that I was quite charmed by it.”
After the Cantata, Herr Eck was to try his Concerto. But, he fearing that the damp night air would have an unfavourable effect upon his strings, and that his violin, after so powerful a volume of vocal sound, and hemmed in by the linen walls, would tell badly, had resolved not to play at all. He explained this; and at the same time reproached Herr Dussek warmly for not having told him at once, that the concert was to take place in the open air. Hereupon a sharp dispute followed, the consequence of which was that Eck left the place immediately with me, and we took no part in the festival itself.
We now went to Ludwigslust, where Eck wished to play at Court. But his offer was declined; and he came also to Strelitz at an unfortunate time, for the Court was absent. Nevertheless, as it was soon expected to return, and the pleasant little town with its charming park, bounded by the lake, invited us to make a longer stay; and, as Eck foresaw that in the height of summer it would be impossible to do much in Stettin, Dantzic and Konigsberg, he made up his mind to await the return of the Court. We looked out therefore for private lodgings, and made ourselves at home there for some time.
This was the most favourable period for my studies, during the whole journey. Eck, who was now at leisure, devoted himself with great zeal to the instruction of his pupil, and initiated me in all the secrets of his art. I, for my part, urged on by youthful ambition, was indefatigable. I rose very early and practised until exhaustion obliged me to cease. But, after a short rest I began again, and in this way, sometimes brought it to ten hour’s practising a day, including the time that Eck devoted to me. In a letter from Brunswick, I had been informed that those who did not wish me well had loudly expressed themselves, that I should distinguish myself as little as all the other youths whom the duke had hitherto assisted in their studies. In order to controvert this opinion, I was determined to do my utmost, and even when my zeal sometimes flagged, the thought of my first appearance in Brunswick upon my return, animated me directly to fresh exertion.
In this manner I succeeded after a short time in acquiring such dexterity and firmness in the management of my instrument, that none of the then known Concerto-music was too difficult for me. In these exertions I was supported by sound health, and a Herculean frame.
Between whiles, I composed, painted, wrote and read; and in the later hours of the afternoons we used to make excursions into the neighbourhood. A favourite amusement of the travellers was to row across the lake, and to take supper at a farm house, situated on the opposite shore. As I was already at that time an accomplished swimmer, I often undressed during these trips, and swam a while alongside the boat. The relation in which I stood to Eck, which was more that of one comrade to another than of pupil to teacher, admitted of such privileges.
At this time, I finished a violin concerto I had begun in Hamburgh, and which afterwards appeared as Op. 1 at Breitkopf & Härtel’s in Leipsic; and wrote the three violin duets Op. 3 published at Kühnel’s in the same town. While practising these duets with Eck, I became first aware that my teacher, like many violinists of the French school, was no thoroughly finished artist; for however excellently he executed his concertos, and some other compositions studied with his brother, yet he knew but little how to enter into the spirit of the works of others. A change of characters would have been very possible while playing these duets, for the scholar could have taught the master how they ought to have been executed. I became also aware from an attempt at composition made by Eck, that it was impossible for him to have composed the violin concertos and quartetts he had given out as his own productions. At a later period, also, the concertos appeared with the name of the elder Eck affixed to them, and the quartetts with that of Danzi, the leader of the Orchestra at Stutgard. Thus the four weeks, during which we waited for the arrival of the Court, passed in a very uniform way, but not fruitlessly for me, when Herr Eck fell seriously ill, and being obliged to keep his room for the first four weeks of his indisposition, I took my evening walks alone. During these walks another love affair sprang up, which is related in the diary with great earnestness and minuteness. On the eighth of July, is written:
“This afternoon, impelled by ennui, I entered a circulating library, where I selected Lafontaine’s well known novel “Quinctius Heymerom von Flaming.” I took it with me, and, leaving the town, looked for a sequestered and shady place on the shore of the lake, where I lay down and began to read. I became deeply engrossed in the story; grieved with Lissow about his Jacobine, and compared her to a lady then living, and an acquaintance of mine. Suddenly I heard footsteps near me, I looked up, and two girls stood before me; one with blue eyes, fair curls, and beautiful as an angel, the other with black hair and eyes, less beautiful indeed than her companion, but still not plain. I sprang up, bowed respectfully and gazed after them for a long time. Myrrha, Herr Eck’s dog which I had taken with me, followed them, fawning upon the fair haired one incessantly, so that it did not heed my calling. I therefore followed to bring back the dog, and if possible to make the acquaintance of the girls. The fair one came to meet me, begging pardon for having kept back the dog, and asked me to promise that I would not punish it for its disobedience. With her sweet silvery voice she might have exacted yet greater promises from me; I therefore gave the desired one with pleasure. The conversation was now commenced; I continued it, and accompanied the girls on their walk. I found that the fair one was very well educated and polite. The dark one spoke too little to allow of judging of her education. We came at length to a meadow separated from our path by a broad ditch, which although shallow, was yet too wet for ladies to cross. As they expressed a desire to walk in the meadow, I offered to carry them over. At first they would not consent, but at last they allowed themselves to be persuaded. I took the fair one first, and an incomprehensible pleasure seized me when thus carrying the beautiful girl in my arms. When I had reached the most dangerous part of the ditch with her, one of her fair curls fell upon my face. This so disturbed me, that I nearly fell with my lovely burthen into the ditch. Nevertheless, I brought her happily over. She thanked me so heartily and gazed so into my face with her large blue eyes that I almost forgot to fetch the other. We now walked on across the meadow, and, at the end, to my great disappointment, found a little bridge which led us back over the ditch. This envious bridge robbed me of the pleasure of carrying once more the sweet burthen. I escorted the girls as far as the town, and then parted from them very unwillingly.—I will immediately enquire their names and station.”
Already the next day I again met my fair one. The diary relates this with comical ingenuousness:
“This evening, urged by God knows what impulse, I took the same walk as yesterday, and again laid myself down in the very place where I had been so agreeably disturbed by the girls. I began to read; but, although I was at an interesting part, yet when I had run through some pages, I had not the least idea of the contents. I now confessed to myself that I had not come here to read, but in the hope of again meeting my new acquaintance. I pocketed my book and gazed with longing looks towards the place where I had first seen them yesterday. But; after waiting in vain for two hours, I arose, vexed, and returned towards the town. Just before reaching it, at a place where two roads meet, I encountered some cows, on their way home from the meadow, which blocked up my path and obliged me to wait. But I had not stood there long, before I saw at some distance, a female figure, dressed in white, coming towards me, and which had exactly the same fine form and high bearing of her whom I had waited for with such earnest longing. As she drew nearer, I was more convinced that it must be her, and I went to meet her. I had not deceived myself—it was her! She greeted me with her graceful friendliness, enquired how I was, and told me that her friend had taken cold the evening before, and was obliged to keep her bed. I said I was sorry to hear it, and that I feared I had been the cause of the illness of her friend, in having delayed them too long in their walk. She assured me however of the contrary, and laid all the blame upon her friend herself, who had clad herself too lightly.”
“During this time the herd had passed by, and we separated. In this second conversation I have again remarked in her so much polish of manner, and so much tender feminine delicacy that I could not but infer that she had been exceedingly well educated.—But, as yet I know not who she is; though from her conversation, I am of opinion she must belong to the bourgoisie.”
These meetings were now repeated almost every evening without prior agreement, and I felt very unhappy when on one occasion I did not find my friend. I became more and more confidential with her; spoke of my parents; of my patron who provided me with the means to accompany my eminent Instructor on his travels; mentioned my works, and plans for the future; and felt myself drawn nearer to her by her friendly interest for me. I saw in her the sum of all womanly perfections, and imagined to have met her who could make the happiness of my life. When wandering hand in hand in the little wood by the lake side, I was more than once upon the point of declaring my love to her; but a timidity I could not conquer always prevented me. Respecting her own circumstances, she was very reserved, and hence I was still ignorant as to who she was. On the 24 of July I however wrote:
“At last I have learned the name of my fair one; but the enquiries made, have cost me dear! Herr Eck, who is now almost recovered and who has already taken some short walks, sent for a hair dresser. Of him, I made enquiries. He told me her name was ***, and, that she was the daughter of a groom of the chambers to the former Duke, who had died some years ago. Her mother, with whom she lived, had a small pension. To my question as to how that could enable her to dress so elegantly? his reply was: they were probably presents from Herr von *** who was very fond of her and visited her frequently. On hearing this, my agony was so great, that I nearly let fall my violin,—and scarcely had the courage to ask, whether her virtue was doubtfully spoken of. He assured me nevertheless to the contrary, and was of opinion, that Herr von ***, who had only come of age two months ago, had the intention of marrying her. He was now travelling, and would return in some weeks. I had made the acquaintance of this Herr von *** at the Inn where we dined, before his departure, and must admit that he seemed to me the most well bred young nobleman we met there. The less therefore do I understand his making her presents and she accepting them; for she can hardly permit herself to hope that he will marry her. And, if so, how as a prudent girl, could she venture during his absence to take lonely walks with a young man, and sit with him in the evening before the door of the house? The affair is a riddle to me, and I am doubtful whether I shall go to her this evening or not.”
The girl’s character however did not long remain a riddle to me; for scarcely had Eck, who now again shared the evening walks, made her acquaintance, than she received his attentions in a much more friendly and forward manner than she had done mine. Eck, gallant and liberal, arranged excursion-parties to please her, into the neighbourhood; to Rheinsberg, Hohenzirze, and other places. For this, she rewarded him with the most marked attention, and had eyes for him only. I felt deeply wounded; the diary contains passionate outbursts of jealousy. Fortunately they were confined to writing, and the good understanding with my Instructor remained unshaken. The contempt I now felt for the girl helped me to conquer my passion, and I turned to my studies with renewed zeal. My diary states:
“I never remark the progress I have made in playing, more than when, from time to time, I take up some old theme and remember how I used to execute it. To-day for instance I took the Concerto I had studied in Hamburgh and found, that I now executed with the greatest ease those passages which I then could not play without a break.”
My Instructor also, did not leave me without encouragement; and when, on the 16 of August, I had played my new Concerto; to my great delight, Herr Eck said: “If every three months you progress as you have done in these, you will return to Brunswick a perfect virtuoso.”
Two days later, Aug. 18., I remained almost the whole day at home, and composed a new Adagio to my Concerto; for although I had already written three, yet none of them seemed to suit well to the other parts.
As evincing my youthful pride as a Composer, the following may here be cited:
“I was told of a popular festival which was to be arranged at Hohenzirze, August 27. the birthday of the hereditary Prince. To this festival the peasants of the neighbouring villages are invited to a dance and supper. There is also to be dancing at the castle. In answer to my question, as to where so many musicians would be found, I learned that the Janitscharen-music would play for the peasants, and the Orchestra—imagine my astonishment—for the dancing at Court! I would not believe it at first, until repeated assurances of it were made to me. But, I asked: how is it possible, that the Duke can require such a thing from the members of his Orchestra, and that they have so little feeling of honour and artistic pride as not to refuse it? The reply was: the Duke does not consider it improper for his Orchestra to play to dancers, and the majority of the members dare not disobey his commands, for if discharged from here, poor bunglers as they are, they would find it difficult to obtain places in other orchestras.”
As after the end of my unhappy love affair, my residence in Strelitz had become unbearable, I longed greatly for our departure. This however, was still delayed, for the doctor could not pronounce Herr Eck fully restored until the end of September. The unpleasantness of my position was still further heightened by the friend of my faithless one, whom at our first meeting I had named the “dark one”, turning her affection most unmistakeably towards me; an affection, which, although the girl was very pretty, I could not return. I withdrew myself from their society as much as possible; but, out of regard to my Instructor, I could not entirely refuse to share in the pleasure parties and excursions which he constantly arranged; and at these I could not avoid being the escort of the dark beauty. There are naive complaints in my diary of the embarrassments which her tenderness caused me, and more than once I wished the moment of our departure to arrive, which would free me from such trials.
On the 27th Sept., came at length the moment, when we were to say farewell to our fair ones. Sophy (the dark one) had affected, or perhaps really felt, an uncommon sadness for the last three days. To-day she spoke not a word, only sighed sometimes, and, when the others in the room did not observe it, threw herself passionately upon my neck. About eight o’clock in the evening, Herr Eck and Miss *** left the room. Now for the first time the real outbreak of her tenderness took place; for after she had also sent away her brothers and sisters, she hardly let me out of her arms. I was obliged to bear with it until ten o’clock; then we took leave. The poor girl shed so many tears, that I was ashamed of my own dry eyes, and, in order not to appear quite heartless, I kissed her warmly. Sophy accompanied me to the door of the house, and pressed a paper into my hand, with the request that I would keep it as a remembrance. I hastened home, opened it, and found a letter with a gold ring containing some hair. The letter ran as follows: “Noble friend, pardon a girl whose importunity must certainly have been obvious to you. I knew that sometimes I did more than was befitting my sex. But God knows, when in your company, which was so dear to me, I could not control myself. Now also I force upon you a small token, trifling indeed, but given with the most openhearted impulse. My only wish and prayer is that you will wear it, and remember me. Ah! could this paper but tell you how highly I value having made your acquaintance, and how deeply I regret your going so far away from us! I must conclude, and in the firm hope of seeing you, my best friend, once more, I already rejoice at the day which will restore you to us again. Farewell, and may you live as well and happily as is the wish of your friend Sophy ***”
This unmerited and tender inclination may not have remained without thankful acknowledgement; for the resolution to answer the letter in a most friendly manner from Stettin, is expressed in the diary. But there is nothing mentioned respecting the execution of that resolve.
We went to Danzic, via Stettin, arriving there October 2. As Eck had to deliver many letters of introduction, and had to arrange a Concert; the lessons, which till now had been given regularly, came rather to a standstill. Meanwhile, I thought, “that I made progress by only hearing Herr Eck practise.” We were constantly invited out to dinner, and for the evening; among other invitations was one to the country seat of Herr Saurmann, where from a hill behind the house, we could overlook the Baltic and a great part of the town. The view of the sea and the vessels upon it made an indiscribable impression upon me. As the day was somewhat overcast, the ships appeared to hang in the clouds, and to move slowly along with them. I could with difficulty tear myself away from the magnificent sight.
At another dinner, in Mr. Simpson’s garden, I had the honour to sit beside the hostess. She induced me to relate to her many things of my early life, namely: how I had been at first destined for the study of medecine, and then, from a passionate inclination for music, had been led to devote myself entirely to the art. She listened to me with a benevolent interest, but at the end wounded my feelings by asking whether I should not have done better to follow the profession of my father. Wholly penetrated with the dignity of my artistic career, I replied angrily: “As high as the soul is above the body, so high is he who devotes himself to the ennobling of the mind, above him who only attends to the mortal frame.”
Almost everytime that an opera was given, I went to the theatre, and did not fail to note down my remarks upon the performance, in which singers, chorus and orchestra were sharply handled.
To my great joy, Ariadne in Naxos, the celebrated melodrama of Brade, which I did not yet know, was also given. But it offended my taste, that in the comedy which followed, “The peasants and lawyers”, Theseus appeared again in the character of a lawyer, and Ariadne as a humble peasant girl. “The music enchanted me although it was very badly performed. But how could it be otherwise, the score having only arrived in the morning from Königsberg, and the first and only rehearsal having been held at noon! Madame Bochmann, who played Ariadne, declaimed indeed very well, but was too ugly for the part.” A young Englishman, who sat next to me, said, that, he did not think Theseus to blame for forsaking such an Ariadne. And upon this, he related to me the following anecdote. At an amateur theatre in England, Ariadne was also given. A rather elderly and anything but beautiful lady played the part of Ariadne so excellently, that the audience broke out into applause at the end of the piece. She modestly disclaimed the applause, saying: “In order to represent Ariadne well, it was necessary to be both young and handsome.” A young man, who wished to say something clever to her, cried out: “O, Madam, you prove the contrary!”
Herr Eck’s concert on October 16. at the Theatre, went off brillantly. As I knew the pieces that my Instructor performed, very accurately, I undertook to lead them on the first violin. The musicians, who soon discovered how firm the young Conductor was, followed me willingly, thereby rendering the performance of the Solo player much easier; which he also thankfully acknowledged. Besides the three pieces played by Herr Eck, there was also a Symphony by Haydn, an Overture by Mozart, a pianoforte Concerto by Danzi, played by Herr Reichel, and two Arias of Cimarosa and Mozart sung by Fräulein Wotruba and Herr Ciliax. “The success of Herr Eck’s performances was great, and the applause enthusiastic and reiterated. I also, had never before heard him play so well in public.”
On the 20th Oct. we went on to Königsberg and remained there till Nov. 18. Eck gave two concerts which were very well attended. Being introduced into many of the first houses by letters of introduction, we were constantly invited to dinner as well as to musical parties. In the house of the “Surgeon-General” Gerlach, I often practised music with Fräulein Gerlach, who was a thoroughly cultivated dilettante, and an excellent pianiste; and who also sang my new songs. Whether these had any artistic worth is now not to be ascertained, for they have been lost. I sometimes played quartetts with two Messrs. Friedländer. It was not however these quartett parties alone that attracted me to their house; Fräul. Rebecca Oppenheim, the younger sister of Madame Friedländer, had again inflamed my too susceptible heart. She was a Jewess, and the society that frequented the house consisted almost entirely of Jews only; but they were all polite and educated people. The day on which I took leave, I found Madame Friedländer and Fräul. Rebecca alone. The latter was overflowing with wit and humour, and we never ceased laughing, and jesting, although this but ill suited the purport of my visit. “It is fortunate,” says my diary, “that we leave to-morrow, for Rebecca is a dangerous girl! He who loves his freedom and his peace must fly from her, and the sooner the better.”
Before Herr Eck gave his first concert, the family Pixis arrived at Königsberg upon their return from St. Petersburgh. I immediately renewed our acquaintance. The eldest brother had in the mean time grown very tall, and his soprano voice had changed to a deep bass. But he still dressed “à l’enfant with a turn-down collar and no necktie”. They were much dissatisfied with their journey to Russia, and the father even affirmed that he was a thousand rubles out of pocket during their stay in St. Petersburgh, although he had taken with him two hundred letters of introduction.
We met at a musical party at Count Calnheim’s, where the youngest played first of all some variations on the piano with great execution and taste. The eldest then played a quartett by Krommer. But neither the composition, nor his playing pleased me. “His tones”, says a remark in my diary, “are without power, and his execution without expression. Added to this, he handled his bow so badly, that, if he does not alter this, he will never become a perfect virtuoso. He holds the bow a hand’s breadth from the nut, and raises the right arm much too high. In this manner, all strength fails him in the stroke, and the shades of piano and forte vanish altogether in his playing.” After him, Herr Eck also played a quartett by Krommer. “But Heavens! what a difference was there! The transitions from forte to piano in his tones, the clearness of the passages, the tasteful fioriture by which he knew how to enhance the most common place composition, lent an irresistable charm to his playing. He gained also, the most undivided applause. Pixis then played a quartett by Tietz, the celebrated crazy violinist of St. Petersburgh, but had just as little success with it as with his former one. At last, he begged Herr Eck to play a duet by Viotti with him, in order that he might be able to say that he had played with all the great violinists of the day; for Viotti, Rode, Kreutzer, Iwanovichi, Tietz, Durand and others, had all done him that honour. In this request all the company joined, and Herr Eck was obliged to consent. Pixis played this duet best of all, although he did not bring out one of the passages as well as Herr Eck, who was not at all prepared for it.”
In the Concert also, which the brothers gave, the eldest had no success, “the passages were flat and without expression: he even played very false, and at times scraped so much as to inflict pain on the ears of the audience.... According to my idea, three years ago when I heard him for the first time in Brunswick, he played the easy Concertos of Iwanovichi and others, better than the difficult ones with which he now came forward.” Yes, I even doubted whether he ever could become a great violinist, “unless he soon got a good master, who, of all things, could give him a good style of bow-ing.”
Upon these doubtless too severe criticisms my Instructor who was a very stern judge, may certainly have had some influence. When, ten years later, I again met Pixis in Vienna, he had become a distinguished virtuoso, and as Professor at the Conservatory in Prague, he proved himself also an able teacher of the violin.
In Königsberg, I began again to paint. I made the acquaintance of a miniature painter, named Seidel, who gave me some lessons, and sat to me. The picture was very like. My diary speaks also of composing. From a remark about the polishing down of a Concerto, it is evident that at that time, I did not understand how to work of a piece; in which I afterwards succeeded so well, that, the rough draught, seldom suffered even from slight changes, and, once written in score, it was never altered afterwards.
For our journey to Memel, “we chose the road along the shore, being twelve miles (German) shorter than that across the country. In winter also, when the sand is hard frozen, it is better to drive on than the latter. Three miles from Königsberg, the road runs close to the sea, and does not leave it until you reach Memel. We travelled the whole night, and suffered much from the cold and cutting sea air. Between the fourth and fifth station we had the misfortune to have a wheel come off. We were now obliged to quit the carriage, to right it by our united strength, and secure the wheel temporarily with ropes. All this may have lasted a full half hour, and I feared I had got my fingers frostbitten; but this I happily found to be groundless. At nine o’clock we reached Memel, but were obliged to wait three whole hours until we could be carried across the harbour, because the boatmen had first to be collected from all parts of the town. Four miles farther we reached the frontiers.”
We arrived at Mittau with a large addition to our number; for Myrrha, without our remarking it, had brought forth nine pups, six living and three dead. “All, excepting two, were taken away from the poor mother.”
In the families to whom Herr Eck was recommended, we found the most hospitable welcome. We were invited to dinners, suppers, musical parties and balls; and everything was done to render our stay agreeable. In the house of a “Collegiate-Assessor”, von Berner, I played for the first time in the place and in the presence of my teacher. It happened thus; Herr Eck, after having played some quartetts with great applause, was solicited to accompany a young Pianiste of 16 years of age, a Miss Brandt, who was possessed of a surprising skill, in a Sonata of Beethoven’s; but he excused himself on the plea of great fatigue. As I well knew that Eck did not dare to play any piece at sight, that he did not know, I offered to play in his stead. It is true, the Sonata was wholly unknown to me, but I trusted to my readiness in reading. I was successful; and the young Artist, in whom probably but little confidence had been felt, was overwhelmed with praise.
At the subsequent musical parties, I was now always solicited to play something; and I remember that Herr von Berner on my taking leave of him, said to me with fatherly kindness: “My young friend, you are on the right road—only keep in it! Herr Eck as a Virtuoso is certainly still above you; but you are a much better musician than he is.”
In the Governor’s house I heard a Violinist of the name of Sogeneff, who at that time was very celebrated in Russia, and a serf of Prince Subow. “He played variations of his own composition, which were immensely difficult. The composition pleased me right well, but his play, although skilful, was very raw, and offensive to the ear. Herr Eck played immediately after him, so that the difference between the two Players was very distinctly perceptible. The play of the Russian, was wild and without transition from forte to piano; that of Herr Eck firm, powerful, and still, always harmonious. We heard there, also, some Russian military singers. They were six private soldiers, some of whom sang soprano parts. They shrieked fearfully, so much so that one was almost obliged to stop ones ears. They are practised in singing by a non commissioned Officer, cane in hand. In some songs they accompanied themselves on sort of Schalmey of so piercing a tone, that I expected the ladies would have fainted away. The Melodies of the songs were not bad, but accompanied by a great deal of false harmonics.”
At a club in the house in which we lived, I was invited to a card party “with three Excellencies, but was obliged to pay dearly for the great honour, for I lost more than three thalers in a few hours.”
Our departure for Riga was put off until December the second, on account of Herr Eck’s recurring indisposition. I spent my evenings at the houses of Herr von Berner and von Korf, in turn, and constantly practised with Fräulein Brandt. We played through the whole store of sonatas with violin accompaniment, and many of the masterpieces of Mozart and Beethoven were thus brought under my notice for the first time. After supper we chatted for an hour, or Frau von Korf played at chess with me, a game which from my childhood, I had been passionately fond of.
Herr von Berner, who had become attached to me, invited me to pass some months with him in the country, upon my return from Petersburgh; and then to give some Concerts about midsummer, a season in which all the Courland nobility are assembled at Mitau. It gave me great satisfaction to hear that I was considered far enough advanced to appear in public as a virtuoso. I gladly consented.
It is odd that there is nothing mentioned in my diary about the children of Herr Berner; for one of his daughters who afterwards became a pupil of Rode, and distinguished herself as a violin player, must already then have been very nearly grown up.
At last the hour of our departure came, and with a moved and grateful heart I took leave of the families who had so kindly welcomed me.
In Riga, I found a letter from Brunswick, that gave me much pleasure. I had asked permission of the Duke to dedicate my new Concerto, as my first published work, to him; and the answer written by the Lord Chamberlain von Münchhausen, brought the consent to my request. Full of impatience to see my work appear, I begged Herr Eck to write to Breitkopf & Härtel in Leipsic, with whom he was in correspondance, to propose the publishing of the concerto. The reply soon arrived, but was very discouraging to me.
For the consolation of the young Composer who can find no publisher for his first work, the conditions upon which the above named firm consented to undertake its publication, may be mentioned. I had myself given up all claim to payment, and only stipulated for some free copies. The firm required however that I should buy one hundred copies at half the selling-price! At first my youthful Artist-pride rebelled against such dishonourable conditions, as I deemed them. But the wish to see the publication of the concerto so expedited, that, upon our return to Brunswick, I might be able to present the Duke with a printed copy; joined to the hope that he would make me a present, assisted me to conquer my sensitiveness, and agree to the conditions. The concerto was finished in time, and when I returned, was lying ready at a Music-seller’s in Brunswick; but the package was not delivered to me before I had paid for the hundred copies.
In Riga, Herr Eck had a quarrel with the Society of Musical Dilettanti there. Being in possession of the Concert room; they required from him, as from all foreign artists, that he should first perform in their concert, for which they were ready to give him up the room and orchestra, for his own concert afterwards. Herr Eck refused to comply with these conditions and would rather give up his own concert altogether. This made the company more compliant; and they declared themselves satisfied, if he would agree to play in no other concert than theirs, after his own. He consented to this, on the condition that they would be silent about it beforehand: because he had been told that the subscribers to the dilettanti concerts would be unwilling to pay for an extra-concert, if they were sure of hearing the foreign Artist in the former. Silence, however, was not kept, and the consequence was that Herr Eck’s concert was badly attended. Angry at this, he now demanded the sum of fifty ducats for his appearance in their concert, as a remuneration for the loss which their gossiping had caused him. The gentlemen directors, feeling in some degree that they had been wrong; after long debating, agreed to pay thirty ducats. Herr Eck, however, stood by his first demand. The gentlemen now threatened to make the police compel him to appear; and he was actually summoned before the Chief of the police. But he succeeded in winning him over to his cause, and the gentlemen directors were dismissed, with their charge. At last, upon the day of the concert, after the bills parading forth the name of Herr Eck, had been posted up at the corners of the streets, they vouchsafed to grant the required demand; but they were not a little surprised at the declaration of Herr Eck, that, now, after having been summoned before the police he would not play at all, not even for double the sum demanded. All their threatning and storming was of no avail; they were obliged to give their concert without him. “I was there,” says the diary, “and much enjoyed the fermentation that prevailed among the dilettanti. Nothing but Herr Eck and his refusal were spoken of; but nobody said one single word in his favour; all were too much annoyed at their disappointed expectations. The concert went off badly. A virtuoso on the flute, from Stockholm, who first played an old fashioned concerto by Devienne in place of Herr Eck, pleased as little as a dilettante from St. Petersburgh, who executed a concerto for the piano by Mozart, in a most schoolboy-like manner.”
Eck, had however won the good will of the Director of the police, by having offered to give a concert for the benefit of the Nikolai Asylum for the poor. Meirer, the Director of the Theatre, gave the house gratis, and Messeurs Arnold and Ohmann, as well as the ladies Werther and Bauser gave their vocal services. The Musical Society did all they could to put a stop to it; but in vain. “Immediately upon his appearance Herr Eck was received with the liveliest applause, which was still more increased after he had played. The proceeds, after deducting the expenses, amounted to more than a hundred ducats, which were handed over to the cashier of the Asylum; but a gift of one hundred ducats from the nobility present was also made to Herr Eck, and the next morning, fifty more followed from several rich merchants, who did not wish to be behindhand in generosity.”
Among the many invitations, one is also mentioned in the diary, to the house of the rich sugar baker Klein, who “kept no less than three tutors for his children”—a German, a Frenchman and a Russian.
On the seventeenth of December we quitted Riga. In Narwa the governor, a great lover of music, who had seen from the Paderoschna, which we were obliged to deliver up at the gate of the town, to be examined, what a celebrated Artist was passing through, invited us immediately for the evening. “Our excuse, that we could not appear in our travelling clothes, was not accepted. The governor sent his state carriage, and we were carried off half by force. The embarrassment at finding ourselves all at once in the midst of a brilliant society, clad in travelling costume, very soon wore off after the friendly welcome and obliging politeness of those present, and we passed a pleasant evening. At one o’clock when the party broke up, we found our carriage with post-horses ready before the door, and set out immediately.
But, between Narwa and St. Petersburgh, one misfortune after the other occured to us. Two stations on this side of St. Petersburgh, we were persuaded to place our carriage upon a sledge. But hardly had we driven half an hour in it, when the cords with which it was fastened, broke, and we could get on no farther. The postillion was obliged to get some peasants from the neighbouring village to help us. After the job was done, they made us understand by signs that we were to pay them five rubles. Very angry at this shameful demand, we refused to give so much, but as they shewed the intention of cutting the cords with which they had bound the wheels, with their axes; and as we saw that we could not contend against the crowd of wild looking fellows who by degrees had surrounded our carriage, we were obliged to comply with the demand.
“After a halt of more than an hour we were at last enabled to proceed; but it was not long before we stuck fast in the snow, and it was only by the help of several peasants whom we called to assist us, that we were able to extricate ourselves. We now found that in the deep snow, the sledge hindered more than it served us, and we had the carriage taken off. After this was done, and paid for, we were enabled to proceed; but again seven times did we stick fast, so that no less than sixteen hours were necessary to accomplish this post of three miles. As we came nearer to St. Petersburgh we found the roads better, and were also driven faster. At last, Wednesday the 22. at nine in the evening, we arrived; after being six days and five nights upon the road. The last part of the journey from Narwa to St. Petersburgh is dreadfully uniform and tiresome. The perfectly straight road cut through the fir forests, with the party coloured Werst-stones, each exactly like the other, are enough to weary the most patient! Seldom only does the endless forest open, to disclose a few buildings, or a miserable village. The houses, or rather the huts of these villages, have for the most part, one room only, with a window a foot square. In this room, men and animals live together quite peaceably. The walls consist of unhewn beams laid upon each-other, the crevices being filled up with moss. It cannot certainly be very warm in these holes; but the inhabitants do not seem to care for that; for I saw children and grown up people running about in their shirts, and barefoot in the snow. The poorer and more wretched the objects appear during the journey, the more surprising is the magnificent St. Petersburgh and its palaces..... We descended at the Hôtel de Londres, and immediately engaged a guide, without whom one cannot be here even for one day; for as soon as the stranger is shown his room, not a soul troubles himself about him any farther.”
In St. Petersburgh, I was at first quite left to myself. This would therefore have been the most favorable opportunity for me to look round that splendid city. But the extreme cold, which already exceeded twenty degrees, would not permit of this. I therefore continued to work with my usual diligence, and indeed with increased zeal, for the period of Herr Eck’s instruction was more than half elapsed.—Through a member of the Imperial orchestra we were introduced into the “Citizen Club,” and there made the acquaintance of almost all the celebrated artistes and scholars then in St. Petersburgh. Among others, my diary mentions Clementi, his pupil Field, the violinist Hartmann, the first violin of the Imperial orchestra, Remi, also a member of the orchestra, Leveque, the son of the leader in Hanover, and director of an orchestra of serfs belonging the senator Teplow, Bärwald from Stockholm, the hornist Bornaus, and others.
Clementi, “a man in his best years, of an extremely lively disposition, and very engaging manners,” liked much to converse with me “(in French, which from my great practice in St. Petersburgh I soon spoke pretty fluently)” and often invited me after dinner to play at billiards. In the evening, I sometimes accompanied him to his large pianoforte warehouse, where Field was often obliged to play for hours, to display the instruments to the best advantage to the purchasers. The diary speaks with great satisfaction of the technical perfection and the “dreamy melancholy” of that young artist’s execution. I have still in recollection the figure of the pale, overgrown youth, whom I have never since seen. When Field, who had outgrown his clothes, placed himself at the piano, stretched out his arms over the keyboard, so that the sleeves shrunk up nearly to his elbows, his whole figure appeared awkward and stiff in the highest degree; but as soon as his touching instrumentation began, everything else was forgotten, and one became all ear. Unhappily, I could not express my emotion and thankfulness to the young man otherwise than by a silent pressure of the hand, for he spoke no other language, but his mother tongue.
Even at that time, many anecdotes of the remarkable avarice of the rich Clementi were related, which had greatly increased in latter years when I again met him in London. It was generally reported that Field was kept on very short allowance by his master, and was obliged to pay for the good fortune of having his instruction, with many privations. I myself experienced a little sample of Clementi’s true Italian parsimony, for one day I found teacher and pupil with up turned sleeves, engaged at the washtub, washing their stockings and other linen. They did not suffer themselves to be disturbed, and Clementi advised me to do the same, as washing in St. Petersburgh was not only very expensive, but the linen suffered greatly from the method used in washing it.
Of all the acquaintances I made in the Citizen’s Club, none were dearer to me than my young friend Remi. The diary speaks of him immediately after our first meeting, as a “polite and charming young Frenchman.” The same enthusiasm for art, the same studies and the same inclinations bound us yet closer to each-other. We met every day at dinner at the Citizen’s Club, when I was not invited out with my Instructor; and when in the evening there was no Opera or Concert in which Remi was engaged, we played duets, of which Remi possessed a great collection, till late in the night. There were many evenings in that cold winter on which the Theatre was closed; for by an ukas of the benevolent Emperor Alexander, all public amusements were forbidden when the cold should exceed seventeen degrees, in order that the coachmen and servants might not be exposed to the danger of being frozen to death. And during that winter, the cold often remained at above seventeen degrees for a fortnight together. That was a dull, monotonous time for foreigners. But foreign artistes, were still worse off, for they were unable to give their concerts. When the cold fell below seventeen degrees there were notices innumerable; but they were often obliged to be recalled on the following day. Herr Eck’s public concert was also postponed till March 6. O. S. after having been announced more than once. In the mean time however, he played twice at Court at the private Concerts of the Empress, and pleased so much, particularly the second time, that the Empress had him engaged as solo player in the Imperial Orchestra at a salary of 3500 rubles.
The less frequently operas and concerts took place in the cold months of January and February, the more diligently I attended them, in order to become more nearly acquainted with the native and foreign talent. I also saw and heard Tietz the celebrated crazy violin player. He was a man of about forty years of age, with a ruddy complexion, and pleasing exterior. His appearance in no wise showed his insanity. We therefore were the more astonished when he addressed every one with the question, “My most gracious monarch, how are you?” He then related to us a long affair in which was but little evidence of sanity; complained bitterly about a malicious sorcerer, who, jealous of his violin playing had so bewitched the middle finger of his left hand that he could no longer play; but at last expressed the hope that he would still be able to conquer the spell—and so forth. On taking leave of us he fell upon his knees before Herr Eck, kissed his hand, before the latter could prevent it, and said, “My most gracious Monarch, I must do homage to thee and thine art, upon my knees!”
Four months later, in the beginning of May 1803, all St. Petersburgh rang with the sudden news that Tietz, whom the Russians in their blind patriotism regarded as the first violinist in the world, and who on account of his madness had not played for six months, had suddenly commenced again. Leveque related the nearer particulars to me. Tietz had been invited to a musical party at the Senator Teplow’s, but had refused to play in spite of all entreaty; Herr Teplow, much annoyed, sent away the orchestra saying, “Then I also will never again hear music!” This made so deep an impression upon Tietz that he said, “most gracious Monarch, have the orchestra recalled; I will play a symphony to their accompaniment.” This took place, and having once began, he played quartets until two o’clock in the morning. The next day the amateurs assembled in his house and he played again. This gave me the hope of hearing him also, and on that account I hastened to him on May the second (20. April). Many amateurs were once more assembled there, who again beseiged him with requests to play; this time however in vain. He was not to be moved, and I afterwards heard that some one had been of the party whom he did not like.
On the eighteenth of May I took my new duet and my violin, and went again to Herr Tietz, whom I this time found alone. It did not require much to persuade him to play the duet; but he would not take the primo. We had hardly ended, when Herr Hirschfeld, hornist in the Imperial orchestra, and others with whom I was unacquainted, came in. Herr Tietz begged me to repeat the duet, and it appeared to please not him alone, but also the others. Herr Tietz now opened a quartet by Haydn, and required me to take the first violin. He himself took the violoncello part. As the quartet was known to me, I did not refuse. It was pretty well executed, and Herr Tietz, as well as the others present, overwhelmed me with praises. Tietz played the secondo of my duet, which is not easy, without faltering and perfectly clean, executing the cantabile passages with taste and feeling. The passages which, according to the old method, he played with rebounding bow, pleased me less.