Bot-S: Autobiography of Louis Spohr

  March 3.

An opera has been again put on the stage written by _Mayer_ several
years ago. It is called “_Cora_” and is founded on the same subject
as _Kotzebue’s_ “Sonnenjungfrau” (Virgin of the Sun). There are
certainly some fine passages in the music, but taken as a whole it
has not satisfied my expectations of _Mayer’s_ music. He is after all
deeply tinctured with the Italian manner and almost wholly an apostate
from the German. His method of carrying out the vocalisation and his
instrumentation are thoroughly Italian. This certainly is not to be
wondered at, for since the age of fourteen he has lived in Italy, and
never wrote for any other than Italian audiences. I think, that apart
from his natural talent, he has raised himself above the others alone
by having always endeavoured to procure all the best German works,
which he studied, and made use of, the latter indeed sometimes a little
too much. Throughout Italy, and here in particular, he is very much
admired and liked: he merits it also in every respect, and as a man is
ever the upright, smooth-spoken unassuming German. He is much attached
to his fatherland, and seems only to regret that it was not his fate
to pursue his career as a composer in Germany. In Bergamo, where he is
director of the orchestra, he now only desires to live in retirement,
and write solely for his church. He assured me that nothing but the
honour of writing for the reopening of the San Carlo theatre could have
induced him to leave his retreat once more, but that the opera “La
vendetta di Junone,” which he had now completed, should certainly be
his last work for the theatre. In “Cora” the favorite piece with the
public is the finale, consisting of a theme in three variations in the
old style of _Pleyel_; one of the singers sings the theme, _Davide_
the first variation in quavers, then _Nozzari_ the second in triplets,
and in conclusion la _Colbran_ the third in semiquavers. As it is well
sung, it greatly pleases the public, and critics therefore must be
silent.

  March 6.

Last evening Signor _Pio Chianchettino_ gave a concert in the _Fondo_
theatre. He is a nephew and pupil of _Dussek_, and played two concertos
of that master in his manner. Although his play was pure, distinct
and even full of expression, yet here again, as every-where else, the
piano-forte as concert-instrument proved itself insufficient to awaken
the enthusiasm of an audience; and the more so is this the greater
the size of the place. For that reason also upon this occasion, the
song-pieces pleased far more than the concertos, although no one could
find fault with his play. I myself felt this also; for although I
am very fond of the piano, when a composer rich in ideas improvises
upon it, yet as concert-instrument I am wholly unmoved by it; and a
piano-forte-concerto in my opinion is only effective when written like
those of _Mozart_, in which the piano is not much more thought of than
any other orchestral instrument. The singers, Madame _Chabran_ and
the Signori _Davide_, _Nozzari_ and _Benedetti_, all distinguished
themselves, and were loudly applauded. One becomes more sensible of
their merits when one hears them in a smaller place than the San Carlo
theatre. _Davide_ and _Nozzari_ may be called almost perfect singers,
they both have very fine voices; the former a very high tenor, the
latter a high baritone, remarkable fluency of execution and much true
expression. _Benedetti_ has a very fine bass voice, but sings rather
coldly.

  March 7.

We have again taken some rather more distant and highly interesting
walks. The object of one was the Camaldula convent, which is situated
upon a hill above two hours’ drive from the centre of the city. We
rode as far as the foot of the mountain, where as the carriage road
terminated, we were obliged to make the ascent on foot. The view from
the convent garden is perhaps one of the most extensive and beautiful
in the world. On one side are seen Ischia, Capri, Procida, Nisida and
the promontories which we had visited in our previous excursion,
accompanied by the blue mirror of the sea; on the opposite side Capua,
Caserta, and in the back-ground the snow-covered mountains; on the side
of Naples a part of the city itself, the whole bay with the opposite
coast, and on the left the smoke-emitting Vesuvius; lastly, on the
fourth side, the shores and salient promontories near Gaëta, as far
as Terracina. As the weather was very propitious for us, this was one
of the most magnificent days we ever passed in the enjoyment of the
beauties of nature. The monks, some of whom we caught sight of, did not
appear in the same humour as we were; for they all wore a gloomy aspect.

We took a shorter but not less interesting walk on the new road to
Rome, which was begun under _Murat_, but has remained unfinished since
his dethronement. It leads over a mountain from which one has the most
admirable view of the city, and it is much to be regretted that it
is not complete; for then the traveller would be able to form a more
worthy conception of the city before his entry into Naples, while now
by the old road, which winds through a narrow mountain ravine, he
sees nothing of Naples until he has entered the most dirty and least
attractive part of the city; which leaves him long in doubt whether he
actually is in the world-famed Naples.

We passed a very pleasant day at the villa of the banker _Heigelin_,
which is situated also upon a mountain near the _Strada Nuova_, whence
one has a beautiful view. Old _Heigelin_, an amiable, open-hearted
German, has ornamented this place of his own creation with so many fine
things, such as grottoes, ruins, temples, fountains, &c. &c., that it
would be actually impossible to crowd any thing more together in so
small a space. Although perhaps the whole is somewhat frivolous as
regards the manner in which it is laid out, it has nevertheless many
individual things worthy of attention. For us Northerns, for instance,
the vast number of exotic plants, which were for the most part in full
bloom, were objects of great interest.

  March 11.

Last evening our concert took place. As the impressario of the court
theatres, _Barbaja_, an extremely selfish man, asked me too much
money for the hire of the theatres, for the _Fondo_ for instance 100
Neapolitan ducats and for the _San Carlo_ 200 even, I adopted his
proposal rather to give my concert in the assembly-room of the San
Carlo theatre, which he offered me lit up for nothing. This apparently
disinterested offer was nevertheless calculated also for his advantage,
for the assembly-room and the adjoining rooms were the places for the
hazard-tables, which he had rented, and to which by means of my concert
he hoped to attract the most fashionable and wealthiest company of the
city. This use of my concert, which could in no way prejudice me, I
could readily allow him. As the saloon is not very spacious, I fixed
the price of admission, as at Rome, at one piaster, and although I had
not a more numerous, yet I had a more susceptible public than there.
Encouraged by this and supported most efficiently by the very accurate
accompaniment under _Festa’s_ direction, as well as by the room itself,
which was so advantageous for my instrument, I played better than I
had done in many other towns in Italy. Besides my compositions a duet
by _Mayer_ and a terzet of _Cherubini_ were sung by Signore _Davide_,
_Nozzari_ and _Benedetti_. Even during the evening I was solicited on
all sides to give a second concert in the theatre.

  March 18.

This morning early we visited the “Studii,” _i. e._ the building in
which the treasures of art from Pompeii and Herculaneum are preserved,
together with the collections previously made of statues and paintings.
The library is situated also in the same building. As it is impossible
to see all in one day, we chose for to-day the statues and the library.
Among the former are some very celebrated statues from the Farnese
collection, of which numerous excellent casts have been made, and two
equestrian statues found in Pompeii, of great artistic worth. In one
room are two glazed cases, full of antique bronzes, also from Pompeii
and Herculaneum, consisting of lamps, small penates and all kinds of
domestic utensils. These things, as well as the statues in marble are
in the most perfect preservation, and appear scarcely so many days old
as they are years; but every thing of iron is much eaten by rust, as
for instance the handles and rings of various vessels of bronze.

The library is contained in a fine handsome and spacious apartment and
several adjoining rooms. On the floor of the grand room the line of the
meridian is drawn, on which, through a small hole pierced in the wall
for that purpose, the sun’s rays fall at noon. When a person claps his
hands at a particular spot in this apartment, an echo repeats it more
than thirty times in rapid succession. This arises probably from the
position of the window-recesses, which are high up, near the ceiling.

Lastly we visited the room where the rolls of papyrus are preserved
and unrolled. They have all the appearance of charcoal, and one might
mistake them for that, were it not that one can easily distinguish the
edges of the leaves. A manuscript fully unrolled, mounted upon linen,
framed and glazed, hangs against the wall. As the paper is burnt quite
black the letters are scarcely to be distinguished, and one cannot but
admire the patience, the penetration, and the knowledge of languages
of those who have known how to unravel its sense. It is a treatise on
music: each side is divided into three columns. In the first is seen an
engraved, accurate copy of the unrolled papyrus, with all its defects,
and rents; in the second, the contents in modern Greek characters, in
which the letters and words that are wanting in the original are filled
in with red letters, and in the third, a Latin translation. They are
now unrolling another manuscript, but do not appear to be hurrying
themselves much, for we found one person only thus occupied. The method
pursued is a very simple one. Small strips of fine parchment are stuck
with gum close to each other or rather somewhat lapping over each
other, upon the charred rolls, after which the paper is gradually and
carefully released and removed. The process is of a necessity a slow
one, but considerably more might have been unrolled by this time. If
these precious remains of ancient learning were in the possession of a
German sovereign, they would all have been deciphered long since.

  March 22.

As I did not like the trouble of making the arrangement for a second
concert, I readily accepted the proposal of the impressario to play
twice at the San Carlo theatre between the acts of the opera for the
sum of 300 ducats. This I did the evening before last for the first
time. I was very much afraid that the violin would not fill the immense
house, but I was soon set at rest on that point on being told at the
rehearsal that every note was distinctly heard in the most distant
parts of the house. But of a necessity nevertheless I was obliged to
forego every finer _nuance_ in my play. Although the house was very
full, yet the greatest silence prevailed whilst I was playing, and
after the second piece of music I was called forward.

Last evening I played at the _Casino mobile_, in a very fine saloon,
my concerto in the form of a scena, and a pot-pourri with pianoforte
accompaniment. As the room is very favourable for music, both of these
had a very sensible effect upon the audience. The remainder of the
concert, consisting of symphonies and _pièces d’harmonie_, was not of
importance.

I forgot to mention a concert given by Signora _Paravicini_ at which
we were present, at the _Teatro nuovo_, on Wednesday last. She played,
between the acts of a comedy, the first violin-concerto of _Rode_
in D minor, a pot-pourri by _Kreutzer_, and at the end an _Adagio_
and _Rondo_ of the same composer. I have been accustomed to hear my
instrument ill used by women, but I never saw it used so badly as by
Signora _Paravicini_. I was the more surprised at this, as she has
acquired some fame, and has a vast deal of pretension; as an instance
of this, she told people here that she had heard _Rode_ in Vienna, but
that he had excited no other sentiment in her than pity. Her turn
had now come to excite pity if one can feel it at all for arrogance
and unskilfulness. She has a very excellent violin, a _Stradivari_,
and in the cantabile draws from it a tolerable tone; but that is her
only merit. In other respects she plays in bad taste, with a profusion
of meaningless ornamentations, and the passages indistinctly: her
intonation is not pure and her bow stroke extremely bungling. The
applause was very lukewarm and was elicited only when Prince Leopold
her patron began to clap his hands. Much more interesting than
_Paravicini’s_ play, was the comedy, which was capitally performed.
Signor _de Marini_ played remarkably well, and he is altogether one of
the best actors of the day. The theatre, certainly, is smaller than the
Fiorentino and Fondo, but quite as pretty.

At private-parties I have played my quartetts and quintetts a few
times, which were exceedingly well accompanied by Messieurs _Dauner_
and son, the young and talented violinist _Onario_, whom I have
practised in some of my things, and by the accomplished violoncellist
_Fenzi_, who lived formerly in Cassel. They afforded great pleasure,
and _Mayer_ assured me he had never enjoyed a greater musical treat. On
the second occasion we played them at the house of Lady _Douglas_, who
herself plays the piano very well and is said to have sung exceedingly
well some years ago. She and her husband are the first English in whom
I have found a real taste for music.

  March 23.

On looking through this diary I observe that I have forgotten to
mention the performance of two masses given at the expense of Prince
_Esterhazy_ of Vienna. The first by old _Umlauf_ of Vienna, was
remarkable for nothing in particular; but the second by _Haydn_, in D
minor, which was performed with great solemnity and military pomp on
the emperor’s birthday, afforded much gratification. Mesdames _Chabran_
and _Canonici_, and Signori _Nozzari_ and _Benedetti_ sang the solo
parts very beautifully; the chorus and orchestra were also admirable.
Unfortunately, at the express desire of the Prince, almost all the
_tempi_ were taken too quick, and thereby much spoiled.

  _Milan_, April 22.

Prevented from writing by the great press of business in the last days
of our residence in Naples, and the hurry of our return journey, which
was almost unbroken by a day of rest, I have got greatly in arrears,
and have therefore much to fetch up, even respecting Naples.

_Mayer’s_ new opera was at length brought out a fortnight before
Easter, after it had been once more re-christened, but it was a total
failure, so that it lived through two and a half representations only,
and probably is for ever at rest. On the third evening, in fact, the
first act alone was given, with one act of _Paer’s_ “Sargino.” Both the
subject and the music of _Mayer’s_ opera are equally uninteresting and
tedious. The latter especially is wanting in life and spirit; it is
so common-place and so spun out, that one can hardly hear it without
falling asleep. This actually occurred to me, to Count _Gallenberg_,
and to several others, at the grand rehearsal. _Mayer_ seems to have
exhausted himself, which is no wonder with the enormous quantity of
operas which he has written. It is certainly high time for him to
retire as a composer of operas, that he may not entirely forfeit the
repute he had acquired, and he would have done well if he had not
accepted the last invitation to Naples. The evening after the first
representation of his opera he set out on his return to Bergamo.

About this time the arrival of Madame _Catalani_ set all the lovers of
music in Naples in great commotion. She immediately took advantage of
this enthusiasm and announced a few days afterwards a concert in the
Fiorentino theatre, the prices of admission being seven-fold the usual
ones. On the day before the concert, it was with difficulty that I got
two pit tickets, and that because I had previously bespoken them, at
22 Carlini each. Never perhaps were the expectations of an audience at
a higher pitch of tension, than were those of the Neapolitan public
on that evening. My wife and I, who for years had longed to hear this
celebrated singer, could scarcely repress our impatience for the moment
of her appearance. At length she did appear, and a deathlike silence
pervaded the whole house. She came forward with a cold and pretentious
air, and saluted neither the Court nor the public, which created an
obvious unpleasant sensation. Perhaps she had expected to have been
received with a burst of applause, which however is not the custom in
Naples, and this perhaps put her out of humour. But when after her
first song she was greeted with a storm of applause, she became more
friendly, and remained so for the rest of the evening. She sang four
times, two airs by _Pucitta_, _Ombra adorata_ of _Zingarelli_ (or, as
the Neapolitans insist, of _Crescentini_, whose name also was down on
the bills) and variations on the thousand times varied “_Nel cor non
più mi sento_.” The airs by _Pucitta_ were extremely poor; the famed
_Ombra adorata_ can only be considered fine, when all thoughts of the
text are banished from the mind; the variations were common place, but
become piquante from her manner of execution. She pleased us greatly,
by the constantly pure intonation and the perfect finish with which she
executes every kind of vocal ornamentation and of passages, and by her
quite peculiar and characteristic style of singing; but she does not
come up to that ideal of a perfectly accomplished singer, which we had
expected to find her. Her voice which has the extensive range of

[Music]

to

[Music]

is both full and powerful in the low and middle notes, but the
transition to the _voce di testa_ at

[Music]

very observable, and from three to four notes in that region are much
weaker, than the deeper and highest; for which reason she gives all
passages which occur in those notes, with half-voice, only in order
to conceal the inequality. Her voice is wanting also in the youthful
freshness, which, however, in a female singer of forty years of age, is
not to be wondered at. Her shake is wonderfully beautiful; and equally
pure whether in the half or whole notes. A peculiar style of run
through the half notes, properly speaking the enharmonic scales, since
every note was produced twice, is greatly admired as something quite
her own. To me, nevertheless, it was more remarkable than beautiful;
for it sounded to me like the howling of the storm in the chimney.
Another kind of vocal ornamentation, which in itself is common enough,
she gives, however, in a manner that imparts great charm to it. It
would be expressed in notes somewhat in this manner:

[Music]

but at the same time it must be observed, that she took breath at
every sixteenth-pause, which gave to this part a very impassioned
character. Among the variations was one with syncopated notes, which
from her peculiar style of execution derives also a very characteristic
and interesting charm; and another in triplets _legato_ she gives in
perfection. But what I most missed in her singing, was _soul_. She
sings recitative without expression--I might say with carelessness, and
in _Adagio_ she remains cold. Neither were we even _once_ deeply moved,
but experienced merely that sense of pleasure one always feels when one
sees and hears mechanical difficulties overcome with ease. This, also,
was the sentiment of all those who sat in our immediate neighbourhood.
Some unpleasant and prejudicial habits, which she is not likely now to
correct, I must yet advert to. To these belong firstly, that in certain
passages, particularly those which she gives with force, every note
is delivered with a sort of see-saw movement of the lower jaw, as in
mastication, so that a dumb person, if he _saw her sing_, would have
no great difficulty in distinguishing crochets from quavers and up and
down running passages from one another. In the shake, more especially,
the movement of the lower jaw by which every note might be counted, is
very striking and disfiguring. Secondly, in impassioned passages her
whole body partakes of a southern but highly unbecoming mobility, from
which a deaf man would likewise of a certainty easily guess the subject.

A few days afterwards we heard her again in the rehearsal to her
second concert, in which she sang five times, and exhibited the same
qualifications, but also impressed no one at any time by a show of
feeling in her execution. She seemed to me much less pretentious here
and more amiable; and she was very polite to the orchestra and the
persons who had gathered to hear her, so that I can readily believe
what I was told--that her pretentious air when appearing in public,
arose more from embarrassement than pride, and was assumed by her to
conceal her fears. A young man who stood behind the side-scenes during
her concert assured me, that upon first stepping forward on the stage
she trembled in every limb, and could scarcely breathe for nervousness.
It is said that here in Milan she did not give general satisfaction;
and her last concerts were much less numerously attended than the
first. One part of the public was in favour of _Grassini_, whom we have
now heard here also, but of whom I shall speak later. The admirers of
the latter had played _Catalani_ a malicious trick by distributing for
sale at the entrance of the theatre at her first concert an Italian
translation of the unfavourable opinions respecting her that had
appeared in the Hamburg and Leipsic musical journals. _Catalani_,
herself, expecting to find in it a sonnet or something of the kind in
her praise, purchased a copy.

The day after _Catalani’s_ first concert in Naples took place,
_Rossini’s_ “Elisabetta” was given at the San Carlo theatre, in which
_Colbran_ played the first part. As every body knew that it was her
intention to compete with _Catalani_, the house was more than usually
crowded, both by partizans and antagonists of _Colbran_. The latter
on the previous evening called _Catalani’s_ concert the exequies of
_Colbran_, and people were therefore extremely curious to learn what
would be the result of the evening. Immediately upon her appearance
she was received with a concert of hisses, but simultaneously also
with vehement applause. As, however, this time she really sang and
played exceedingly well, the applauders increased in number and the
hissers grew less, so that at last she was called forward almost
unanimously by the audience. She is far behind _Catalani_ in voice and
every mechanical point of excellence, but she sings with true feeling
and plays with considerable passion. The composition of this opera
is one of _Rossini’s_ best, but with all the merits, it has also all
the weak points of the others.--In the theatre, a ridiculous trait of
pretentious magnanimity on the part of _Catalani_ furnished subject of
amusement. A few evenings before, when she first went to the theatre,
she sent her secretary behind the scenes to express to _Colbran_
and the other singers that “she was perfectly satisfied with their
performances.”

  _Freiburg in Breisgau_, June 20. 1817.

Previous to our leaving Naples, we devoted one whole day more to a
visit to Pompeii. We were so fortunate as to have a clear and tolerably
warm day, a real wonder throughout the whole of the month of March!
While from the middle of January to the end of February the weather was
almost without interruption the most beautiful spring weather, with the
beginning of March winter suddenly returned. A cold and stormy rain
fell in the vallies, and snow in the mountains to such a depth, that
they were no longer accessible. On Vesuvius it was said to be from
three to four feet deep. But March is generally very cold and the real
winter month of the Neapolitans.

The ruins of Pompeii, which from having lain covered for nearly 2000
years with a light crust of dry ashes, are in far better preservation
than all the remains of that period which have been exposed to the
air, made a deep and really solemn impression upon us. The ruins of
the Colosseum and other ancient buildings in Rome, impress one with an
idea of the artistic taste, the wealth, and love of grandeur of the
ancients; but here the sight of simple small private dwelling-houses,
which are as entire as on the day of the fearful catastrophe, makes
one acquainted with the habits and ways of their civic life, and, by
ocular evidence, with many customs unknown to our mode of living, and
described to us by ancient writers.

On entering one of these houses, which may have belonged to a
well-to-do individual in the middle class of society, one finds a row
of small, neat rooms all painted _al fresco_, like the paintings cut
out of the walls from Herculaneum, which are preserved at Portici.
These chambers have rarely any window, and but one door to admit
light and air, which opens upon a court yard, round which runs a
covered gallery. In the centre of the court is a fountain, near this a
circular marble table round which stand marble benches to recline upon
at meal time, furnished with a somewhat higher projection to support
the elbows; and on one side of the court is one or more tastefully
decorated baths. All these houses had but one floor or story and were
much smaller than our dwelling houses. It is greatly to be regretted
that the domestic utensils which were found there could not be left
in their place! One would then have had a perfect conception of the
habits and mode of life of the former inhabitants of this remarkable
city. The pavement of the streets is still in the same condition as it
then was, and the impression of the wheels of the vehicles as also of
the feet of the foot-passengers are still to be seen in the streets.
Over the shops one still sees expressed in Greek characters painted on
walls, the wares which were sold in each, and at the corner of a street
an advertisement of that period. In the shops where oil was sold huge
earthen-ware jars, let into the masonry of the front wall, are still
to be seen, from which that article was dipped out for sale. In many
cellars in good preservation, similar tall jars, but with very narrow
necks are to be seen, in which wine was kept. In one of these cellars
the skeleton of a woman was found, and so completely imbedded in the
ashes, that the form of her body could be distinguished as in a mould.
A part of this form in which the impress of her breast is left, is
preserved at Portici. In her hand was found a large leathern bag with
coins in it.

The street which is in the best preservation is the street of the
tombs, in which on both sides scarcely any thing is to be seen but
tombs, some of which are built in the Egyptian pyramidal-form, and
others in the Roman style. In these tombs, urns have been found in
which the ashes and bones of the burned dead were preserved. The
inscriptions upon these tombs are sometimes Greek, sometimes Latin, and
begin very frequently with the exclamation: “_Siste viator!_” “Stop
passer-by!” &c., which mode of arresting the attention of the way farer
here in a frequented and busy street was much more in place than it
is in our generally very retired churchyards, in which it has been
imitated in a somewhat inappropriate manner.

The public buildings, theatres, temples, &c., which attract attention
in Pompeii, are certainly neither so vast nor so grand and beautiful as
those of Rome, Puzzuoli and other places; but they nevertheless exceed
in importance everything that a modern provincial town can offer to the
visitor. Where, for instance, would one find in any of these, a vast
circus for public games, and two large theatres! Of the latter, one
was roofed over, and served probably for the performance of comedies;
the other, with a stage, an orchestra, and a circular, very lofty
amphitheatre gives us an idea of the sort of place in which the Roman
actors, provided with a mask to increase the volume of sound, performed
their tragedies before an audience of from 10,000 to 15,000 spectators.
But the temples also, the finest of which is now being dug out of the
ashes, afford ocular demonstration of the love of grandeur and of the
good taste of the ancients in architecture.

The vineyards and cultivated land which lie above the yet unexcavated
part of the city, have been already long purchased by the former king
of Naples; hence if the work had been carried on with energy, which,
however, is not to be expected from the present government, which
prosecutes all such things very indolently, the whole of this highly
interesting city would be laid bare in a few years, and from the
high ground which surrounds it might all be surveyed at one glance.
At present the different parts which have been excavated are still
separated from each other by long strips of land under cultivation,
which one is obliged to ascend like so many hills; and one is greatly
surprised after having traversed one of this sort of fields to see
beneath one another part of the city, which contrasts so strangely with
the vines, trees, fields and peasant’s huts upon the high ground.

The day before our departure from Naples we once more paid a visit to
the Studii, and inspected the large collection of Etrurian vases of
every imaginable form. We were greatly pleased also, with the fine
collection of paintings, among which the pictures by _Raphael_ recently
brought back from Sicily were special objects of our admiration.

On the 29th March we set out on our return journey to Rome. The morning
of our leaving was very stormy and unpleasant for me; for in the first
place I had a dispute with the vetturino, who wanted to thrust a fifth
person into the interior of the vehicle, in the shape of a dirty
and ill-smelling Capucin friar, till at length after much desultory
disputation we consented to his being accommodated in the cabriolet,
and as a further incident of annoyance, my family was at first not
permitted to pass out of the gate, because they had not been mentioned
in the new Neapolitan passports which it is requisite to take upon
leaving the country. It was in vain that I shewed my old passport, in
which my wife and children were mentioned; and it was not until I had
pledged my word to go back and procure another passport that I was
allowed to move from the spot. I therefore went back to the minister,
while my wife and children proceeded without further hindrance on
their way. Arrived at the minister’s, I there found all still buried
in sleep; but with fair words and that which with Italians is far more
effectual, money, I at length succeeded in procuring a new passport.
Furnished with this I jumped into a hired carriage, and drove with
all speed to overtake my family, which I did about half-way to Capua
and thus relieved them of a great anxiety respecting me. Among the
annoyances with which travellers in Italy are almost worried to death,
is the excessive strictness in regard to passports, which is frequently
carried to a ridiculous extreme. We subsequently saw an instance in
which a traveller who had already got beyond Parma on the Lombard
frontier was sent all the way back to Leghorn because his passport had
not been signed by the Austrian consul at that place.

In a second vehicle which accompanied us travelled an Englishman,
who was possessed of an extraordinary skill in taking the fine views
in a few minutes. For this purpose he made use of a machine which
transmitted the landscape on a reduced scale to the paper. Between
Velletri and Albano, where we went part of the way on foot in order
better to enjoy the magnificent landscape and the mild air, we saw the
whole method of his proceeding, which afforded infinite pleasure to the
children. He shewed us afterwards his collection of views, of which he
had upwards of two hundred of Naples and its neighbourhood alone. He
gave me his address: Major _Cockburn_, Woolwich, nine miles from London.

Our re-entry into Rome filled us anew with wonder and admiration of
the remains of the old Roman architecture, which we had not seen for
three months. We were much amused also with the simple remarks of the
Capucin friar, whose first visit this was to the mainland, and who
was totally inexperienced in every thing. Apart from his dirt, he was
really a good-tempered, simple sort of man, and quite endurable. He
was full of restless impatience to see the pope officiate. How various
are the wishes and inclinations of men! He perhaps felt as we did the
day before the concert given by the celebrated _Catalani_! I wish with
all my heart that he may return to his convent, better satisfied then
we returned home from that concert.

With great difficulty we procured a miserable apartment in a private
house, for which nevertheless we were obliged to pay half a piaster per
diem. Strangers from every part of Italy had poured into Rome to be
present during the Holy Week, in addition to whom also, pilgrims, and
the devout gathered together from all parts of the world, were now here
to receive remission of their sins. The streets were thronged to that
degree that we were frequently obliged to pull up as we drove through.

Our apartments had a look-out upon the Tiber from a wooden balcony;
from here we could follow the course of the Tiber from the Porta Romana
to the bridge in front of the castle of St. Angelo. The stillness of
the quarter of the city beyond the Tiber, lit up by the ruddy evening
sky and the moonlight, contrasted in a remarkable manner with the dense
throng which poured to and fro across the bridge and then disappeared
in the streets leading from the castle of St. Angelo to the church of
St. Peter. High above all the houses and palaces which lay between us
and the church of St. Peter, rose the latter, proudly and majestically,
filling us with wonder and admiration of its gigantic proportions.
Tired as we were, it was long before we could tear ourselves away from
this magnificent sight, and we remained till a late hour in the mild
evening air upon our balcony. When we at length lay down to rest, we
called to each other once more: “To-morrow, to-morrow, then we shall
hear the famous Miserere!”

  _Aix la Chapelle_, Aug. 10. 1817.

Here at length, I find once more a few moments leisure to continue my
narrative of our return journey from Italy.

On the 3rd April we at last heard the-long-wished-for Miserere in the
Sixtine chapel. We had been told that females were admitted by tickets,
and that men were required to appear in shoes. But a ticket for
_Dorette_ was now not to be had, and I was therefore obliged to make up
my mind to go alone. But when I recognised among the Swiss guard at the
entrance of the church one whom I knew and whose good will I had won
upon a former occasion by a present for accompanying us up to the dome
of St. Peter’s church; I enquired of him whether he could not assist to
procure me an admission into the chapel for my wife without a ticket;
and upon his assurance that he would do his best, I hastened home to
fetch her. After some discussion with the other Swiss guards we were so
fortunate as to be admitted, although several English ladies of rank
who came unprovided with tickets were refused admittance and turned
back. The Swiss cannot bear the English nor the French, and favour the
Germans upon such occasions much more, particularly if one can talk to
them in a few words of “_Schwizerdütsch_.”

We yet arrived in good time, and only regretted that we were not
allowed to remain together, so as to interchange at the moment the
impression which the music would make upon us.

Before the commencement of the singing, nineteen psalms were chaunted
alternately by high and low voices, in the same manner _unisono_,
and in the form of prayer, as we had already found so tedious at
Christmas; and we had to bear with the last eight or nine of these:
after every one, which lasted for five long minutes, one of the tapers
is extinguished that burns upon a gigantic pyramidal-shaped candelabra
in front of the high altar. How one wishes that the last of them also
was extinguished! At length the wished-for moment comes, and by degrees
a silence ensues which not a little increases the expectation of that
which now follows. To this sentiment of expectation, the solemn
twilight which now prevails in the church faintly illumined with the
last gleam of the rosy tints of evening, and the repose felt at length
by the ear after the hoarse bellowing of the psalms may be ascribed the
delicious impression that I experienced from the first long-drawn chord
of _C flat_, and which seemed to me like music from another world.
But one was too soon reminded that it was an earthly music that fell
upon the ear, and one indeed sung by Italians; for immediately after
the second bar, the ear was rent by a horrid succession of quints! The
theme was doubtless after this manner:

[Music]

but was given by the singers in the following barbarous manner:

[Music]

I could not have believed even my own ears, much more those of others,
that they sing _in such wise_ in the Sixtine chapel, had I not heard
it subsequently repeated. Is this perhaps the mysterious method of
executing these old compositions, of which it is related that it is
known alone to this choir, and has been handed down traditionally?
Impossible! _Modern_ Italians only can sing in so barbarous a style,
who may perhaps possess a feeling for melody, but who in all that is
called harmony are grossly ignorant.

When however this first Miserere had been endured, I was soon attracted
by something else. These simple sequences of harmony, consisting almost
wholly of triads, this mixing and sustaining of the voices, at one time
increasing to the most tumultuous _forte_, at another dying away into
the softest _pianissimo_; the continual and lengthened sustaining of
single tones to a degree attainable only by the lungs of a castrated
person, and then especially the soft introduction of a chord, while
that of other voices is still faintly sustained, give to this music, in
spite of all its deficiencies, something so peculiar, that one feels
irresistibly attracted by it. I can now therefore readily understand
that in former times, when the choir was much better, this must have
made an immense impression upon foreigners who had never heard pure
vocal music and the voices of castrated persons. It might even now be
made most charmingly effective, if the singers of the choir had only
a director of more extensive knowledge. But as it is, they do not
generally sing even with purity.

On this first day, two compositions of _Allegri_ and _Baini_ were
given, and each of them repeated once. Between each of these ten
not very long divisions a prayer was recited in a low tone by the
cardinals, bishops, and other clergy, which from its resemblance to
the roll of distant thunder had a good effect. At the conclusion of
the ceremony however, the servants, scraping and treading upon the
foot-boards, made a very unpleasant noise for musical ears, which
greatly disturbed and then obliterated the impression made by the
music, to which one would willingly have abandoned oneself a little
longer. This noise they tell me is to represent an earthquake!

On the second evening I managed things in such a manner as to arrive
at the chapel just at the commencement of the real singing, and on the
extinguishing of the last taper. The crowd was so great, that I was
obliged to remain standing some time at the entrance surrounded by
Englishmen, who during the whole time of the music spoke to each other
in a very loud tone of voice, and would not even allow themselves to
be restrained from it by any signs to keep silence. Besides this, the
singers sang much more carelessly than the day before, and frequently
very false, so that I was very glad when the earthquake came to put an
end to the ceremony. Three new compositions were added to the two of
yesterday, for which reason each required to be sung but once. In other
respects everything was exactly the same as the first time.

At a later period I had an opportunity of seeing the Miserere
collection published by _Kühnel_ of Leipsic, but did not find a single
one of those which we heard in Rome. The library of the Sixtine chapel
must however be so rich in such compositions, that they are enabled to
select different ones for many years in succession.

Both evenings after the Miserere we saw the illumination of the cross
in the church of St. Peter. Upon entering by the grand entrance, whence
one sees the illuminated cross at the farthest distance, it makes an
imposing impression, but so soon as one approaches nearer, it loses
greatly. The effect would be far greater if all the other lights in the
church were extinguished. But as it is, not only hundreds of lamps burn
round the entrance to the subterranean chapel, but innumerable other
lights besides in every part of the church. The brilliant illumination
in the cross casts therefore no prominent shadow. The Pantheon was also
illuminated this evening, which must have had a magnificent effect.
Unfortunately we arrived just as the lights were being extinguished.

On the previous evening prince _Frederick_ took me to a party, at which
the fiftieth psalm, or the Miserere of _Marcello_, was exceedingly well
sung by dilettanti. But as the orchestral accompaniment was, as is
usual in Rome, very bad, and the composition throughout monotonous, I
soon got tired of it and was glad when it came to an end.

On Saturday forenoon we took a long walk to St. Paul to see the
magnificent ancient pillars in that otherwise very ugly church. On our
way back, we saw the pyramid of _Cestius_ and the so-called mount of
pot-sherds. At noon we met at the eating-house at the sign of “The
Ermine” a German drawer, Herr _Rösel_, who easily persuaded us to take
another walk in his company. He first pointed out to us an arched,
old Roman subterranean canal, the _Cloaca maxima_, I think; we then
went to a small, insignificant church, but which contains many fine
antiquities, in order to see the divine service of the Greek church,
which is celebrated on this day only; but the crowd was so great, that
we could not obtain an entrance. Upon this we went to see the temple of
Vesta, and lastly ascended the mount Aventino, where our companion led
us before the door of a garden and shewed us through the key-hole one
of the most startling sights imaginable. Through a long arched gallery
overgrown with wild shrubs and verdure the dome of the church of St.
Peters is seen magnificently lit up and gilded by the rays of the
setting sun. We had then the door of the garden opened for us, in order
to admire closely, a very large and beautiful palm tree which was just
then in full bloom.

On the following morning the ringing of bells and salves of artillery
from the castle of St. Angelo reminded us that it was Easter Sunday,
and of the necessity of a speedy toilet if we would not lose the sight
of the great ceremony in the church of St. Peter’s. But the fearful
crush of the crowd upon the bridge almost compelled us to turn back.
Completely carried along by the throng, we at length arrived on the
other side of the Tiber, and then hastened to get into a less crowded
side street, which also led to the grand square in front of the church.
We there found many thousand persons assembled, and among them many
pilgrims, with their hats ornamented with shells collected from every
quarter of the world, who were impatiently awaiting the moment when
the Holy father should give his benediction from the balcony. But some
time was to elapse before that would take place, and we therefore first
took a turn through the church, where we found every part decorated
just the same as at Christmas, and as we could hope to see very little
of the ceremony, we preferred taking a walk in the open air as the
weather was so fine. We got back again about 12 o’clock, and found
the populace still in a state of acute suspense. The balcony over the
grand entrance to the church was decorated with crimson velvet, and to
shield it from the rays of the sun a gigantic tent was stretched over
it. In the gallery above the pillars on the left-hand side a box had
been erected for the accommodation of the most distinguished foreign
visitors. A number of pages bearing tapers first made their appearance
on the balcony, then followed the cardinals, and lastly the Pope, borne
upon a sedan, and having on each side of him the white fans of ostrich
feathers. As soon as he appeared, all the people fell upon their knees
and a solemn stillness took the place of the wild tumult which had
previously prevailed. There was something exceedingly imposing in the
reverential awe impressed by this moment upon the feelings. The pale
old man then arose, and with a slow and dignified movement of the
hands, blessed the assembled multitude. In the mean-time, two folded
papers were thrown down from the balcony, one of which, as I was told,
contained the damnation of all heretics, and the other the papal
indulgence for all good believers then present. The damnatory-bull did
not however reach the ground, but flew driven by the wind into a window
that stood open, while the bull of indulgence was caught by the people
who struggled for its possession.

On our way to the eating-house, we were joined by Herr _Kelle_ of
Stuttgard, whose acquaintance we had previously made in Dresden. He
asked us among other things whether we were satisfied with our tour in
Italy and with what we had seen. Upon which I complained that we had
found many things which did not realise the expectation that had been
raised in our minds by previous travellers. He found that very natural,
and considered that it arose from the circumstance that not one of the
travellers upon his return would confess, that he also had been made an
April-fool of by his predecessors. It reminds me, he continued, of the
well-known anecdote of a man who advertised that he had a horse in his
stable which had its head where other horses had their tails. But the
curious who went to see it found nothing more than a horse fastened to
the crib by the tail, yet took good care to conceal it from the others
who were waiting outside the door--because they were ashamed. The
application of the story is easy!

After dinner we took another walk in the villa Borghese, and then
made our preparations for our departure, which was fixed for the next
morning.

In company of two persons from Stuttgard and one from Munich, with whom
we had collectively hired a vetturino, we this time performed the far
more interesting return-journey by the way of Perugia to Florence, in
six days. On the evening of the second day we arrived at Terni, and
hastened before the sun had set, to visit the celebrated waterfall,
about two hours’ walk from that place. We proceeded as far as the
foot of the mountain and then hired some asses already saddled for
the purpose in the very romantically situated village, to which half
Terni attracted by the mildness of the Sunday evening had repaired as a
pleasant promenade. These soon and safely carried us up the ascent to
the waterfall. The view from the mountain, before one turns into the
valley into which the waterfall precipitates itself, is very varied and
charming. The scene then, as one approaches nearer to it, becomes more
and more wild and romantic. As the sun was now about to set, we did not
tarry long but made all possible haste to reach the waterfall before
nightfall, in part to see the imposing spectacle in a proper light, and
partly for security’s sake, as the country hereabouts has not a very
good reputation. With the last declining rays of the sun we reached
the rock which rises out of the dark foaming abyss opposite the fall,
and where for the convenience of visitors a pavillon furnished with
benches has been erected. The view of the majestic spectacle from this
point of sight is beyond the power of language to describe. We were all
riveted as it were to the spot with admiration and wonder. Certainly at
no former period of my life did any of the beauties of nature, not even
the first sight of the Alps, make so deep an impression upon me. After
we had stood here for full ten minutes and fully feasted our eyes with
the magnificent sight, we returned to Terni without accident, on one of
the mildest and finest evenings of spring, exceedingly delighted with
our charming excursion.

On the fourth day of the journey it became suddenly very cold, so much
so that towards evening snow even began to fall, and lay upon the
ground till the morning. But when we entered the deep valley in which
Florence lies, we found everything in bloom.

We remained one day only in Florence, which we nevertheless turned to
good account. In the forenoon we visited the cathedral, the baptistery
and the Boboli gardens. Unfortunately, as it was a holiday, we could
not get admittance to see the tomb of the Medici and the Pitti Palace.
In the afternoon we took a walk to the Cascini.

Next morning, the 14th April, we resumed our journey, to Bologna
without our previous companions, who remained some time longer in
Florence. We found a great deal of snow in the Apennines, and once
more got into complete winter. In dismal Bologna we stopped one day
only. The host of the “Pellegrino” had made out a somewhat shamefully
long bill against us, in abatement of which I resorted to a means I
had frequently put in practice; that is, I deducted a third from the
account, which after some discursive wrangling, he was obliged to
submit to. Subsequently I always resorted to this expedient, and found
it answer better than the previous plan of pre-arrangement, which I had
hitherto followed, but in which after all I always found that I was
cheated.

We now proceeded by way of Modena, Reggio, Parma and Piacenza, to
Milan. As we did not stop long any where, I can say nothing more of
those cities than that we everywhere found similar crowds of ragged
beggars, the same system of cheating among the hotel keepers, and the
same dirt. On the market place of Piacenza, we saw the two gigantic
bronze statues. Whether they have any artistic merit, I cannot take
upon me to say, as we saw them only in the evening twilight.

In Milan we put up at the _Pension Suisse_, which I recommend to all
travellers for cleanliness and cheapness. We were again struck on our
first going out by the magnificence and beauty of the exterior of the
cathedral. It is without doubt the finest building that we ever saw,
more noble and richer than the _façade_ of the church of St. Peter’s.

The celebrated _Grassini_, to the imitation of whose singing _Rode_
is said to be indebted for his peculiar method of play, which differs
from the school of _Viotti_, had announced six representations in the
theatre _della Scala_. As they were however but thinly attended, three
only took place, at the last of which we were present. It consisted
of unconnected scenas from “the Horatii and Curatii” of _Cimarosa_,
and some other airs, among which also _Ombra adorata_. _Grassini_, who
in the flower of her age was without doubt a distinguished vocalist,
is now somewhat _passée_. In that however which time could not steal
from her she still stands alone; that is, she has a good style, and
plays and sings with much intensity of feeling--in truth with far
more feeling and expression than _Catalani_, but she is nevertheless
greatly behind the latter in brilliancy of execution and as regards
voice.--Hence whenever the production of a brilliant effect alone,
was the desideratum, she did not altogether give satisfaction, but in
impassioned recitative she charmed the audience by her truthful force
of expression.

I found this time also, the della Scala theatre admirably adapted to
give effect to music. I know of no place in which the voices as well as
the orchestra sound so grandly, and so distinctly at the same time; it
is therefore immeasurably preferable in an acoustic point of view to
the San Carlo theatre.

As upon our first appearance at the theatre our speculation had been so
unprofitable, we tried this time the music hall of the conservatorium,
fixed the price of entrance at three francs, and on account of the
theatre gave our concert in the forenoon. Whether attributable to the
unusual hour or to the already too advanced season of the year--suffice
to say, it was again very thinly attended, and did not return much more
than the expenses.

In the company of two Englishmen, the younger of whom was tolerably
amiable, we set out from Milan on the 2nd of May, slept in Arona, and
on the following morning were anew enraptured by the heavenly scenery
round the _Lago maggiore_, which we now again found in the garb of
spring, and arrived towards evening at the village of Simplon, at the
foot of the Simplon pass. Here, upon taking leave of Italy, we were
again cheated in real Italian style, being compelled, for instance, to
pay two francs for each cup of coffee.

The next morning we commenced the at this season of the year somewhat
difficult journey over the mountain pass, and reached the snow region
one hour after leaving Simplon. Here it was necessary to take the
carriage to pieces; the body was placed upon one sledge, the wheels
upon another, and our luggage upon a third; and in this manner the
caravan proceeded with several additional horses at a slow rate. In
the higher regions of the pass, where the snow remained hard, there
were not many stoppages, but further down, where the warmth was already
considerable, and the snow not very deep, we came every moment to
a standstill. Sometimes the horses sank in up to their bellies, at
others the carriage would get jammed fast between walls of snow as high
as a house, when it became necessary to clear a passage for it; and
then again the road had to be cleared of the fallen avalanches that
encumbered it and obstructed our progress. We therefore went on before,
and arrived two hours earlier at the fourth refuge station, wet through
up to the knees, it is true. At this place the snow had disappeared,
and here we refreshed ourselves with a simple breakfast, and rested
from the fatigues of our toilsome promenade. We heard many avalanches
come thundering down, and were in constant fear that it might fare
with us as with some travellers who had passed the day before. These,
arrived near to one of the galleries pierced through the rock, saw
a fearful avalanche sweeping down upon them, and had but just time
sufficient to take refuge in the gallery. To their horror, however,
they found both exits had been blocked up by the snow, so that for
three fearfully anxious hours they were shut in, until the inspector of
the road had worked his way through to them.

When at length the carriage arrived, we drove on to Brieg, where
we passed the third night, and for the first time again heard our
mother-tongue spoken, which sounded right welcome to our ears. Our
fourth day’s journey brought us to Sion, where French is spoken. In the
Valais we found the spring much less forward than on the other side.
Here, the cherry-trees were scarcely in bloom, while in Lombardy and on
the _Lago maggiore_ they had long passed their bloom. We thus once more
found ourselves in spring, in which we had constantly been since the
beginning of February.

On our fifth day’s journey we came to the celebrated Pissevache,
which is close to the road. But our expectations were not altogether
satisfied; for in comparison with the waterfall at Terni, this looked
very insignificant in our eyes. We slept at Bex, a charmingly situated
little village, which the inhabitants call not without reason _un
paradis terrestre_. The inn here may compete with the largest hotels of
many capitals.

On the sixth day we travelled continuously along the lake of Geneva
through Vevay to Lausanne. This place, so much lauded, and also
much resorted to in summer by the English, is not so beautiful as I
expected. The views on the lake of Thun, and still more on the lake of
Zurich, are far more varied; but all the Swiss lakes are in my opinion
far behind the _Lago maggiore_. On the seventh day we arrived at length
at Geneva.

       *       *       *       *       *

In consequence of a severe cold I was confined for some days to my bed.
During this time Herr _Dupont_ and the Rev. Pastor _Gerlach_, with some
other musical friends, took some pains to make arrangements for a
concert. But it was easy to see beforehand that it would not be a very
brilliant affair, for in part the prevailing distress and dearness of
provision were still too great; and partly because several concerts had
taken place shortly before for the benefit of the poor. The season was
also too far advanced, and the majority of the wealthy families had
already retired to their country-seats. In fact it did not much more
than cover the expenses. We also permitted ourselves to be persuaded to
play at Herr _Piclet Rochemont’s_ and Herr _Dupont’s_ private parties;
and the very numerous company assembled at both their tea-parties then
thought it no longer worth while coming to our concert. The brothers
_Bohrer_, who had been there a month before we came, did not meet with
better success. Taken as a whole the Genevese have very little taste
for art, and are always speculating how they can best squeeze the
numerous foreigners who reside there summer and winter. At any rate
they know very little of _German art_ and _German artists_, and do not
know our classical composers even by name. The foreign language, and
the long French rule to which they were subjected, explains all this
sufficiently.

Of all towns of Switzerland Geneva may boast the greatest number of
distinguished artists, but who here, as almost everywhere else, are
split into two or more parties, and live a regular cat-and-dog life
among themselves. Of these the brothers _Hensel_ and _Wolf_ and Herr
_Berger_ (properly _Münzberger_) are the most prominent. I was so
fortunate as to bring these gentlemen together at my concert, who
otherwise never played together, and had thus for a Swiss town a
really good orchestra. The Rev. Pastor _Gerlach_ received us in the
most friendly manner, and rendered us even many obliging services;
he even gave up to us the Lutheran church for our concert, in which
music has a very good effect. Without that we should been compelled to
give it in the dark and cheerless theatre, which would have occasioned
considerable expense (300 Francs).

In Geneva I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting once more my old
teacher _Kunisch_ of Brunswick. This worthy man had experienced every
possible caprice of fortune. When a young man he was a first-rate
hornist, but from its inducing at last a spitting of blood, he was
obliged to abandon that instrument to save his life. By the most
untiring application he then in three years attained to a considerable
skill on the violin, and subsequently procured an appointment as first
violin at the national theatre in Berlin. When after the battle of
Jena the Prussian court was obliged to fly from Berlin and the royal
orchestra was dispersed, he was driven from Berlin by the intrigues
of Herr _Schick_, who much wanted to obtain his place. He then first
went to Switzerland, when already advanced in years he learned the
French language, and, afterwards went to Lyons, where he again procured
an appointment as first violin at the theatre. Well pleased with his
situation here, he had just begun to feel comfortably settled down,
when by an unluckly fall he dislocated his left hand, which soon
became perfectly rigid, so that he could no longer play the violin,
and consequently was obliged to give up his situation. He was now for
a third time compelled to learn another instrument, and thenceforth
earned a scanty subsistence as a teacher of the piano-forte. He was
exceedingly pleased to meet me again, and seemed very proud to be able
to call me his pupil.

       *       *       *       *       *

Upon perusing the here intercalated diary of the Italian journey I miss
some incidents which even now (in 1847) are so vividly impressed on my
memory that I cannot forbear appending them here in continuation.

Mention has already been made of the circumstance that I had alone to
thank the exertions of the Austrian ambassador Count _Apponyi_ for
being enabled to give a concert in Rome during Advent, at which time
all public music is forbidden. Count _Apponyi_ undertook to represent
my request for permission to the governor of Rome, but advised me
nevertheless not to wait for the reply, but to make arrangements as
quickly as possible for the concert, while he would procure for me
the necessary subscribers. I went to work immediately, but found my
efforts impeded by very considerable difficulties. The salon in the
Ruspoli Palace, which Count _Apponyi_ had procured for me, was like
every other part of that fine uninhabited building, in a very ruinous
condition. It was necessary to re-glaze the windows in many places,
to fill up the holes in the marble pavement with bricks, and to hire
the necessary furniture, chandeliers, seats, music desks, &c. &c. But
it was first of all especially necessary to cleanse the palace, from
the entrance to the saloon, from the filth with which the esplanade
and the handsome flight of marble steps ornamented with statues were
filled in such a manner, that whole cart-loads of it required to be
carried away. I was also first obliged to find one by one singers and
musicians in the immense city, and to engage them for my concert, all
of which occupied a great deal of time. Until the day of the concert,
and even on that itself till the evening, I was in continual anxiety
lest a refusal of my request should arrive and overthrow every thing
I had done. But the police were so humane, that they did not forward
this to me till the day _after_ the concert when I had already in hand
a satisfactory return in the shape of receipts. I was hereby relieved
of great uneasiness and one which until then had greatly embittered my
stay in Rome. My travelling funds had come to so low an ebb, from the
hitherto scanty receipts from my concerts in Italy, that I saw with
alarm they would in no manner suffice for an extension of our journey
to Naples, and scarcely even for a direct return to Germany. To be so
near to Naples, the most desired object of the whole journey, and now
to turn back--that was a reflexion too fearful for me to bear with
calmness! I therefore conceived the idea of applying to the _Beer_
family, which had meanwhile arrived from Venice, for a loan. Intimate
as was my friendship with the son _Meyer Beer_ (afterwards _Meyerbeer_)
I could nevertheless not overcome my reluctance to express my wish
on the subject, and applied therefore in preference to a rich friend
of mine in Alsace, who however, as it frequently happens with such
applications, paid no attention to it. But now, thanks to the handsome
receipts which my concert had brought in, all prospect of pecuniary
want was dissipated, and I could venture upon the further journey to
Naples without anxiety. This was nevertheless delayed by the illness of
my children till the latter end of January; and as _Dorette_, wholly
occupied with attending to them, could now no longer accompany me in
my excursions, I kept frequent company with the _Beer_ family, and
they having arrived later, I could now serve them as Cicerone. Of an
evening, when the light no longer permitted anything more to be seen
(for the theatres were still closed during Advent), the three sons
accompanied me sometimes to my lodgings, and we then shortened the
long evenings with a game at whist. As it was at that time, however,
very cold in Rome, and there was no means of heating my room, we used
to set ourselves down in my enormous bed with our backs turned to the
four cardinal points, with the leaf of a table between us, and in that
manner played our rubber in comfortable warmth and in the best humour.

Of my stay in Naples, the following incident is to be added.

On the day of my first concert, I received in the green-room of the San
Carlo theatre, a visit from the celebrated singer _Crescentini_, whom I
had already become acquainted with in Rome. After he had said many very
complimentary things relative to my play and my compositions, he made
the following proposition to me. The present director, _Zingarelli_,
who, with his religious turn of mind, was very unremitting in praying
with his pupils, but who practised them in music very little, was to be
pensioned off, and he, _Crescentini_ was applying for the appointment.
But as he understood nothing of instrumental music, the Neapolitan
minister contemplated appointing a second director for that, and had
thought of me, as my play and my compositions had quite enchanted him
at my concert on the previous day. If therefore I felt disposed to make
an application for the place, I was to accompany him immediately to
the minister, where further proposals would be made to me. This took
place. I returned to _Dorette_ highly satisfied with the propositions
of the minister, and we were not a little pleased at the thoughts of
taking up our home in such a paradise as Naples. But week after week
passed away, without any further communication from the minister, and
we learned from _Crescentini_ that the whole project had been abandoned
by reason of the expense it would entail. We dared not therefore delay
any longer the period of our departure, for I again found that my
treasury was so decreased by our numerous excursions in the environs of
Naples, which we had made in the company of our Silesian friends, and
of which I was always obliged to bear half the expenses, that my means
would scarcely suffice for the return journey to Switzerland.

This calculation proved indeed but too correct; for on our arrival at
Geneva, my funds were completely exhausted. As my concert there also
brought in but very little, and I knew beforehand that with the then
(in the spring of 1817) prevailing famine in Switzerland, but very
little was to be earned in the other Swiss towns, I for the first time
in my life experienced the bitter anxiety arising from a want of the
means of subsistence. It is true we possessed some valuables which had
been presented to us at several courts; but the bare thought of being
obliged to sell or to pledge these, was still much too painful to our
feelings. Necessity, however, compelled us to do so. I was just on the
point of looking for a place where money was advanced upon pledges,
when _Dorette_ suggested that it would be preferable to reveal our
position to the most friendly of all our acquaintances there, the
Pastor _Gerlach_, and offered to go to him herself, as I had not the
courage to do so. She took with her her handsomest ornament, a diadem
of brilliants, a present from the Queen of Bavaria, and proceeded to
the reverend gentleman’s house. Never in all my life did I pass such
painful moments as those which elapsed during her absence. At length,
after a seemingly never-ending half hour, she returned, and brought
back the pledge--but with it the sum necessary for the prosecution
of our further journey. She was still in a state of excitement
from a fright she had experienced there. While, with the greatest
embarrassment and with faltering lips, she disclosed to the Pastor our
momentary necessities, and made a request for a loan upon the pledge
she proferred, he had suddenly burst into a loud fit of laughter and
vanished into an adjoining room. But before she had time to reflect
upon the meaning of this outburst of hilarity, which seemed to her
so greatly out of place, he returned bringing the required sum, and
said to her in the kindest manner: “I am delighted that the worthy
pair of artists have afforded me so great a pleasure as to render them
a service; but how could you think that a clergyman would lend upon
pledges like a jew?”

Thus, then, our immediate wants were relieved and we could resume our
journey. We now first went to Thierachern to fetch our carriage and
the harp, which we had left there the previous autumn. As _Dorette_
required a little time to get her hand again into play upon her
instrument, and we did not moreover require to hurry, as the favorable
period for concert-giving was passed, we stayed there a fortnight,
practised again each forenoon our duets for harp and violin, and in
the afternoons, favoured by the most beautiful spring weather, visited
once more all our former favorite spots. At length, however, we were
obliged to make up our minds to leave the paradise of Thierachern and
proceed further upon our artistic tour. In Switzerland we met with
very little success, for the permission to give public concerts was
everywhere refused on account of the prevailing famine, and it was
permitted in Zurich only because we there offered to hand over a part
of the proceeds to the poor. I there played for the first time since
my return to Germany my vocal _scena_ and a solo-quartet (Op. 43) that
I had begun in Italy and finished in Thierachern; both compositions
were received with very great applause. But with that I was obliged
to content myself; for the receipts from this concert were far below
those of the previous year. I could not therefore keep my promise as
to time, in the repayment of the sum borrowed in Geneva, which gave me
much uneasiness. But the Pastor _Gerlach_, upon my communicating to him
the reason, in excuse for my failure, returned the most satisfactory
reply, and I could thus proceed on my journey with a mind more at ease.

But even in Germany also, where we gave concerts in Freiburg,
Carlsruhe, Wiesbaden, Ems, and Aix-la-Chapelle, the receipts were but
middling, on account of the generally prevailing distress, so that they
scarcely covered our travelling expenses; and not until we reached the
last-named town, where our play produced a great sensation and enabled
us to give three very numerously attended concerts, did sufficient
remain to enable us to liquidate my debt to _Gerlach_.

From Naples to Aix-la-chapelle we had now travelled for four months
continually in the direction from south to north, without stopping very
long anywhere. We had therefore found everywhere beyond and on this
side of the Alps, the trees in bloom, and thus enjoyed an extension
of the spring season in a degree such as it has never since been our
lot to know. At Aix-la-Chapelle we arrived in the height of summer,
and in the middle of the bathing season. For our farther journey to
Holland this was the most unfavourable time for concert-giving, and I
therefore resolved to stop some weeks in Aix-la-Chapelle. We had there
become acquainted with several zealous musical amateurs, at whose
houses music parties were frequently given. I had also found some good
quartet-accompaniers with whom I practised my Vienna quartets and
quintets; and as they were greatly admired by all who heard them, I
gave them frequently.

We thus passed the time of our stay in Aix-la-Chapelle in a very
pleasant manner, equally divided between work and pleasure. The
instruction of the children, which indeed had never entirely ceased
during the whole journey, for we used to give them instruction even
in the carriage as we travelled along, was now resumed with more
earnestness and regularity. I also began to compose again, and wrote
there the first number of my four-voice songs for men’s voices (Op. 44)
of which _Gœthe’s_ “Dem Schnee, dem Regen” became afterwards a favorite
table song.

Towards autumn we continued our journey to Holland, and on our way
thither first gave some concerts at Cologne and Dusseldorf which were
very well attended. Thence we proceeded to Cleves, where we made the
acquaintance of the notary, Mr. _Thomae_, a zealous friend of art and
a distinguished dilettante, who played several instruments. In his
house we had music very frequently, and the two families, inclusive of
the children, soon became so attached that they formed a life-enduring
friendship. Through this circumstance our stay in Cleves became so
attractive that we took leave of the friendly little town and its
charming environs with much reluctance.

The fame of the _Spohr_ artist-couple had however not yet reached
Holland, and we were therefore first obliged to break ground there.
In this however we soon succeeded. In that wealthy land, favourably
disposed towards German art and German artists, we made a great
sensation, and consequent thereon also a flourishing business. We had
already played at Rotterdam and the Hague, and had just arrived at
Amsterdam, where we had also already made our appearance in _Felix
meritis_ and had afterwards given a concert upon our own account,
when I received a letter from Mr. _Ihlée_, director of the theatre at
Frankfort on the Main, in which, on the part of the shareholders of
that theatre, he offered me the appointment of director of the opera
and music, and in case of my acceptance thereof, added the request
that I would enter upon it with all possible despatch. The terms, it
is true, were not so brilliant as those of my Vienna appointment,
but sufficient nevertheless to maintain a family. Certainly I should
have liked to have continued my artistic tour, in which I took great
pleasure, at least till the spring; but they were very pressing in
Frankfort, and _Dorette_ longed once more for domestic repose. I
therefore consented without further hesitation and set out immediately
upon the return journey. At Cleves, where we alighted at the friendly
house of the _Thomae_ family, we were forced, despite the pressing
urgency to accelerate our journey, to stop a few days. Although it was
now mid-winter, every thing was again done to make our stay agreeable.
Music parties, sledge excursions and other amusements succeeded each
other alternately. On the evening before our departure, as we sat
at the supper-table, cracking nuts and thinking regretfully of the
approaching parting, my friend _Thomae_ made the proposal that the
_Spohr_ family, as a memorial of their presence there, should plant one
of the nuts in the garden. This proposition was received with general
acclamation. Upon a spade being brought, both families, wrapped in warm
cloaks, repaired in procession to the garden, in the very centre of
which, after I had cleared away the snow, I dug a hole, in which the
children planted the nut. In the following spring the appearance of the
germ above ground was announced to us at Frankfort. This, carefully
protected by a circular fence, grew by degrees to a fine tree, and
even now (1852) the _Thomae_ family, as one of the sons not long since
informed me, thinks with pleasurable feelings of that evening and the
absent friends.

In Frankfort I was received by the shareholders of the theatre
and by the whole company of the theatre and orchestra in the most
friendly manner. A dinner was given in my honour in the saloon of the
“_Weidenbusch_,” at which the usual toasts were given and speeches made
in due form. The orchestra, which, under the able direction of its
previous leader Mr. _Schmitt_, had acquired the reputation of being
one of the best in Germany, I found somewhat deteriorated, from his
long illness. But as a ready disposition was shewn by all to meet my
wishes and arrangements, and as they soon accustomed themselves to my
method of directing, the former _ensemble_ was soon re-established. My
predecessor had led with the violin, and by the wish of the singers I
began also in the same manner, indicating the time with the bow, and
keeping the violin ready at hand, in order to assist with that when
necessary. But I soon accustomed them to so precise a practise of their
parts that such assistance as that was soon no longer necessary. I now
laid the violin aside and directed in the French style, with the bâton.

The routine of business on the Frankfort stage was at that time as
follows: the managers chosen by the shareholders, met every week the
technical directors (Mr. _Ihlée_ for the drama and I for the opera)
at a sitting at which the programme for the week was agreed upon
and everything concerning the management arranged. The _præses_, or
_senior_ of this directory, was a merchant of the name of _Leers_, who
liked the office and therefore always managed to be re-elected. In
the course of time he had acquired a certain tact in the routine of
managing the theatre, and spoke usually therefore in a very decided
tone. His whole endeavour was directed to economy, in order to diminish
the yearly recurring deficit of from 14 to 17,000 florins, which
the shareholders were obliged to cover. He liked best the singers,
performers and musicians, who engaged at the lowest salaries, and in
the choice of the operas and plays which were to be given he always
decided upon those which would entail the least expense. _Ihlée_ and
I had also an especial interest in getting rid of the deficit, as we
had a share in any overplus secured to us by agreement: but we thought
this would be much more surely attained if an endeavour was made to
raise the character of the theatre by engaging distinguished talent and
the representation of classical works. We were therefore frequently in
opposition to Mr. _Leers_ and his colleagues, and one of them only,
Mr. _Clement Brentano_, entertained the same opinion as ourselves. But
he seldom succeeded in obtaining the victory for it, as it was always
his custom to defend it merely with light sallies of wit and sarcasm.
The animosity which sprung out of this difference of opinion between
Mr. _Leers_ and myself was not perceptible, however, till a later
period, for at first we agreed very well. It was therefore not very
difficult for me to obtain the consent of the managers to bring out
my opera “Faust.” I was very desirous of at length hearing this work,
which I had written five years before at Vienna, and I hastened all the
preparations as much as possible. As there was no baritone among the
singers of the theatre who could satisfactorily take the part of Faust,
I was obliged to give it to the tenor, Mr. _Schelble_, afterwards the
founder and director of the society of St. Cecilia, who possessed in
his _mezzo-tenore_, the necessary compass as also the requisite skill
in execution. After the rehearsals had commenced, _Schelble_ expressed
the wish that I would write another air for him which would shew his
voice off to more advantage than those which were in the opera. As I
found a suitable place for its introduction immediately after the duet
at the commencement, and Mr. _George Döring_ (hautboy of the orchestra
and subsequently a much admired romance writer) furnished me with
appropriate words for it, I was very pleased to be enabled to satisfy
_Schelble’s_ wish. This air: “Liebe ist die zarte Blüthe” (Love is the
tender blossom), which was afterwards so frequently sung at concerts,
and innumerable times in London by _Pischek_, is therefore the first
thing I composed in Frankfort. Meanwhile the study of the opera had
proceeded so well that it could be announced and performed for the
first time in March (1818). At first, it is true, it pleased the great
majority less than the connoisseurs, but with each representation
gained more admirers; so that from that time it has remained almost
constantly in the repertorium of the Frankfort stage, and has been
studied anew after short intervals.

This success encouraged me to new dramatic compositions. I therefore
looked about me for the materials for a work of the kind, and found
one that suited me in _Appel’s_ book of ghost stories, in the tale
called “Der schwarze Jäger” (the black huntsman). _Döring_, with whom I
spoke upon the subject, offered to work it out as an opera. We devised
together a plot which differed chiefly from _Kind’s_ text-book (which
was at that time as yet unknown to us) in this, that we retained the
tragical conclusion of the story. As soon as _Döring_ had written the
first scenes, I immediately set about the composition. The introduction
was already for the most part sketched out, when the celebrated
tragedian Madame _Schröder_, and her daughter, the afterwards more
celebrated _Schröder-Devrient_, came to Frankfort, and during her
visit saw the work I was engaged upon on the piano. They then informed
that _C. M. von Weber_ was composing music for the same subject as an
opera, and had already finished the first act. This induced me to lay
my work aside, as I had reason to fear _Weber_ would come forward with
his opera much earlier than I. As it afterwards proved, however, such
was not the case; for the “Freischütz” appeared first in 1820, and
my opera “Zelmira and Azor,” which I began almost a year later, was
already given on the 4th April 1819. Nevertheless I have not regretted
that I abandoned the materials of _Appel’s_ story, for with my music,
which is not adapted to please the multitude and excite the popular
enthusiasm, I should never have met with the unexampled success that
the “Freischütz” met with.

As I was now again obliged to look about me for a libretto, I
began meanwhile to write quartets. The chief reason for this was
the solicitation of some lovers of that kind of music to institute
public-quartet performances, which had not hitherto been given in
Frankfort. At these I wished also to be enabled to bring forward some
new compositions, and for that purpose I wrote in the course of the
summer the three quartets (Op. 45). When I played the first of these at
a musical soirée at _Schelble’s_, _Jean Paul_ was one of the audience.
He appeared to interest himself very much for this new composition
and ascribed to it a highly poetical signification, of which while
composing it I certainly never thought, but which recurred in a very
striking manner to my mind at every subsequent performance of the
quartet.

On the 29th July 1818 my family was again increased by the birth of
a little daughter, who was christened by the name of Theresa after
her godmother Mrs. _Thomae_ of Cleves, and was held over the font
by my friend _Speyer_. _Dorette_ now felt very happy at having a
permanent-dwelling place, so as to be able to devote herself wholly to
the care of the new visitor.

In the autumn began the first set of the public quartets in the little
saloon of the “Rothes Haus.” The assistants were: second violin
the concertmaster Mr. _Hofmann_, viol Mr. _Bayer_, violoncello Mr.
_Hasemann_, at that time bass-trumpet of the orchestra, and afterwards
first violincellist of the Cassel orchestra. I brought forward some
quartets of _Haydn_, _Mozart_, _Beethoven_, and some of my own, which
we had practised in the most careful manner in two rehearsals. They
made therefore a great sensation by the precision of their execution,
and were so well received that in the course of the winter another set
could be given.

In September 1818 I began also the composition of the new opera.
Mr. _Ihlée_ had proposed as subject the text of the formerly very
much admired opera “_La Belle et la Bête_,” by _Gretry_. As this at
that time had wholly disappeared from the German repertory, and was
wholly unknown to the younger generation, I readily assented to the
proposition; for from my earliest youth I had a predeliction for this
tale, and even remembered an air of _Gretry’s_ opera, that namely of
_Zelmira_ with the echo, which as a boy I had frequently heard my
mother sing, and also sung myself. Herr _Ihlée_ offered to alter the
text to the style of the modern opera, which, as he well understood
stage business, he did greatly to my satisfaction.--At that time
_Rossini’s_ music became then first known in Germany, and “Tancred” in
particular brought down a very storm of applause in Frankfort. Almost
at every sitting of the theatre I was obliged to hear from Mr. _Leers_
the words: “That is an opera that pleases and attracts the public,
you must bring out more of that kind!”--Little as I was an admirer of
_Rossini’s_ music, as the severe criticism thereof in the diary of the
Italian journey shews, yet the applause which “Tancred” had met with
in Frankfort was not wholly without influence on the style of my new
opera. I was furthermore induced to this by the considerable power
of execution possessed by four singers (Miss _Friedel_, the sisters
_Campagnoli_, and Mr. _Schelble_) who were at my command. This explains
why the music to “Zelmira and Azor” has so much colouring and vocal
ornamentation in the parts sustained by the three sisters, and that of
Azor. The opera was studied most attentively by the singers and the
orchestra, and met with great success at the very first representation,
indeed a more general one than “Faust,” which however, at a later
period, both in Frankfort and the rest of Germany, reassumed the place
in public estimation which its real merits as an opera more properly
justified.

During the course of the winter I gave another concert with my wife,
for which I had written a new sonata for harp and violin. As, since I
had once more a fixed residence, pupils again presented themselves,
both native and foreign, I was overburdened with work the whole
winter. When spring at length came I was therefore very desirous of
a little rest and I was well pleased when four of my earlier musical
friends of Rudolstadt, Messrs. _von Holleben_, _Müller_, _Sommer_ and
_Methfessel_, came to Frankfort and urged me to accompany them to
Mannheim, where a musical festival was to take place. I managed to get
leave of absence for eight days, and joined the party. From Darmstadt,
where the charming mountain-road begins, we went on foot to Heidelberg,
and carried our necessary luggage in knapsacks, on our backs. Three
of the Rudolstädter, _Müller_, _Sommer_ and _von Holleben_, who were
first-rate harmonists, had strapped their horns upon their knapsacks,
and _Methfessel_, who accompanied our four-part songs with the
guitar, carried his instrument slung by a band over his shoulders. In
this manner our travelling-party, notwithstanding their respectable
exterior, had completely the appearance of an itinerant music-band, and
as, in high and jocund spirits, we always entered all the villages and
small towns either playing or singing, we had always a long train of
jovial listeners, and numerous applications to “strike up,” which, to
the great regret of the applicants, were of course not complied with.
We made short stages, and ascended the ruins of several castles which
lay near our road. There we partook of the meal brought with us from
the neighbouring inn and seasoned it with horn-music, song and mirthful
jest. On the third day we arrived at Heidelberg, where we visited the
castle. A flourish of horns soon brought a number of hearers around us,
who were highly delighted with our four-part songs and _Methfessel’s_
comic lyrics. As we had inscribed our names in the visitors’ book, it
soon became known in the town that I and some musical friends were on
our way to the festival at Mannheim, and in the evening a deputation
from the Heidelberg musical society made its appearance at our inn with
an invitation to make the passage to Mannheim the next morning on board
the society’s vessel. We consented with very great pleasure.

This voyage was the most brilliant episode in the whole journey. When I
and my companions set foot on board the vessel, which was dressed out
with festoons of flowers up to the top of the mast, we were welcomed
in the most friendly manner by the already assembled male and female
singers, with a choral-song. While the boat was passing directly
afterwards between high rocky banks on either side, which threw back
the echo, the Rudolstädter first returned the compliment with their
horns, which had a fine effect there. Then followed our songs, and
_Methfessel_ again distinguished himself in particular by the execution
of his humorous songs, which he accompanied in a masterly manner on the
guitar. These put the whole company in the merriest mood. As we drew
near the end of our journey we were met and welcomed by the Mannheim
musical society on board several boats decorated with flags and
flowers. My presence on board the Heidelberg boat was already known.
The committee of the festival therefore saluted me and my companions,
and presented us with tickets of admission to the rehearsals and
performances. To me even apartments were offered in a private house,
which I was however obliged to decline, as it would separate me from
my companions. As soon as we had landed, therefore, we sought for an
inn. Unfortunately, however, we found it already so full of visitors
that we were obliged all five to accommodate ourselves in one room, and
the next day the crowd of applicants for lodging was so great that we
had great difficulty in protecting our room from the invasion of yet
more guests. In the evening, since, as may be readily supposed, beds
were not to be had, we lay down contented beside each other on some
clean straw, nor was our good humour in the least disturbed thereby.

As regards the musical performances, I now only recollect that I and
my companions, who, together with me, had assisted at the festival at
Frankenhausen, were not so satisfied with the effect of the music here
as there, which can alone be accounted for by the circumstance that the
performance at Frankenhausen took place in the church, a place sonorous
and well adapted on account of its excellent acoustic qualities, while
at Mannheim they were given in the theatre.

On the third day we set out upon our return journey. As the road from
Mannheim to Mayence would have been too uninteresting to travel on
foot, we hired a boat with two vigorous rowers, and went by water. But
in this way also the journey was rather tedious. We had, moreover,
passed the previous night at a ball, and felt very tired; it was
therefore no wonder that we sought to make up for the lost night’s
rest, and passed the greater part of the time in sleep. On our arrival
at Mayence we nevertheless met with a little adventure which put us in
the merriest mood during the last hours of our being together. Evening
was drawing in when, after our landing, we proceeded to look for the
best inn in the town. Just as we were about to enter it, in the already
described dress of travelling musicians, the host, who was looking out
of the window, called out to us in an angry tone of voice: “Be off with
you! we don’t take in such people as you!” This style of address amused
me amazingly, as I had frequently joked my companions upon their dress,
and laughing, I called out to Mr. _von Holleben_: “High warden of
forests, did you hear that? they will not take us in here; we must look
for another inn!” But the host, startled at hearing my friend addressed
by such a grand title, darted down-stairs in a minute and made his
appearance immediately in the street, and with bows innumerable
entreated the gentlemen to walk in and graciously pardon his silly
mistake! As we followed him into the house and were all ushered by him
into the well-lighted dining room, his embarrassment was ludicrous in
the extreme: our highly respectable appearance seemed now to allay all
his fears, when the unlucky horns strapped upon the knapsacks, and
_Methfessel’s_ guitar suspended from his neck, excited new doubts as
to whether we were guests worthy of entertainement in his house. But
when we ordered three rooms with wax lights (which latter I purposely
mentioned), five beds and a good supper, all uttered in the curt
imperative tone of persons of importance, his last lingering scruples
vanished, and his whole demeanour became thenceforth cringingly
servile. This specimen of the mean vulgarity of innkeeper-nature amused
us long, and was subject of mirth up to the last moment of our being
together. The next morning, as my leave of absence was expired, I
returned to Frankfort and the Rudolstädter continued their journey down
the Rhine, as they had proposed.

As I entered my house, the children ran joyfully to meet me, but my
wife, who had been in very low spirits at our parting the week before,
was now suffering extremely from the shock sustained from a fright. In
order that the reader may understand the cause of this, I must advert
to some previous incidents that had occurred while in Frankfort.

In the latter part of the autumn of 1818 _Turner_, a player on the
hautboy, came to Frankfort. I had previously known him in Brunswick,
where we were both members of the orchestra. Already at that time
_Turner_ distinguished himself greatly by his skill upon that
instrument, as also by his talent for composition. Upon his subsequent
travels, particularly while in Vienna, where he lived some time, he
had acquired the reputation of being the first of living hautboyists.
At the same time, however, many strange stories were current of his
residence there; of a _liaison_ with a lady of rank, whom he afterwards
accused of having given him poison in a cup of coffee. A criminal
inquiry was instituted, whereat it was elicited that he had periodical
fits of insanity, at which times he was possessed with the fixed idea
of being poisoned. These relations concerning him, which passed from
mouth to mouth, imparted to him a certain interest, and his concerts
were on that account most numerously attended. I found him on his
arrival in Frankfort--for he immediately paid me a visit--more earnest
and reserved, it is true, than when I was previously acquainted with
him in Brunswick, but otherwise remarked nothing whatever peculiar
in him. As his play pleased very much, and as I knew moreover that
his orchestral skill was very great, and as from _George Döring’s_
retirement from the orchestra (he had now thought of devoting himself
entirely to authorship), a vacancy had occurred for a hautboy player--I
proposed at the next sitting of the theatrical committee that _Turner_
should be engaged as first hautboy. The salary he asked was not
unusually high, and therefore the proposition met with no opposition,
even Mr. _Leers_ himself making no objection. _Turner_ took his place
therefore in the orchestra, and proved a real acquisition by the
tasteful execution of his soli and by his fine tone. After some time,
however, a remarkable melancholy was observed in him, which gradually
increased so much, that at length not a word above a whisper was to be
got from him. Nevertheless he always performed his orchestral duties
with punctuality, so that I hoped these periods of sadness would pass
off without further results. Soon however they assumed the character
of complete aberration of mind, in which the fixed idea of the Vienna
poisoning again evinced itself. It was now full time to remove him
from the orchestra, to prevent the possibility of some unpleasant
occurrence. _Döring_, a near relation of _Turner’s_, undertook to
provide for him and get him cured, and engaged also to temporarily
fill his place. The malady now soon increased with such violence,
that it was necessary to have him constantly watched by keepers. One
evening, nevertheless, he succeeded in escaping from them scarcely
half-clothed. During a violent snow-storm he wandered about in the open
fields half the night, nor did he return home till towards morning,
covered with a thick crust of snow and ice. As he had immediately
gone to bed in this condition, the doctor found him in the morning
bathed in perspiration and in a violent fever. This perhaps, however,
brought about a crisis, for from that day he got better, and he was
soon enabled to resume his duties in the orchestra with fully restored
sanity of mind. I remarked, nevertheless, that for about eight days
in every month, and always with the moon’s increase, he was visited
by a slight return of his melancholy madness, which announced itself
beforehand by a fixed look and a certain feverish restlessness. I
then, with _Döring’s_ assistance, managed to keep him away from the
orchestra for a few days, until his more cheerful look bespoke anew
his recovery. In this manner _Turner_ performed his duties up to the
summer and it was hoped that by degrees he would also be cured of
these slighter attacks also. In the latter part of this time he again,
as formerly, called upon me now and then, and even spent the evening
with me, and demeaned himself in a friendly manner towards my wife,
and shewed much interest in the children. When therefore I went to
Mannheim with my Rudolstädt friends, it did not at first appear at all
strange to _Dorette_ to see him walk one morning into the room; but as,
without any salutation or uttering a word, he sat down opposite to her
and gazed upon her with his eyes fixed, she began to feel uneasy, and
was at length seized with fear. As she was quite alone with him (the
children being at school) she was about to call in a needlewoman, who
was sewing in the adjoining room; but scarcely had she risen than he
also sprang up and clasped her in his arms. With a shriek of terror
she tore herself from his grasp, rushed into the adjoining room, the
door of which the sempstress had then just opened, and she succeeded
in closing and bolting the door before _Turner_ could follow her.
There was, however, unfortunately no further issue from this room, and
the two terrified women found themselves besieged by the madman. His
endeavours to force the lock they met by pressing against the door
with their whole weight, and all the strength which terror imparted
to them; and succeeded, for after a few vain efforts he abandoned his
purpose, ran down the stairs and out of the house. _Dorette_ now felt
about to faint, was obliged to send for the doctor, and kept her bed
for some days. After my return, her pleasure thereat and the assurance
of again being under my protection, soon restored her, and thus this
circumstance was fortunately attended by no worse results. For the
unfortunate young man this last violent outbreak of his malady entailed
his discharge by the directors of the theatre. After again recovering,
he went to Holland, and at first gave there several concerts in which
he was greatly applauded, and which were also very remunerative; but
upon a fresh attack was put into a mad house, where he soon afterwards
died. The world lost in him a very great musical genius, the full
development of which was barred by the sad affliction that befel him.

Meanwhile the acrimony of feeling that existed between Mr. _Leers_
and myself became constantly more apparent, and a sitting of the
directors seldom passed over without a regular dispute. He asserted
that I required too much time for the study and production of new
pieces because I was too fastidious in the matter. He expressed the
opinion, that a new opera ought to be studied every fortnight, or at
least an old one completed in those parts that required to be newly
filled up. In vain I represented to him, that it was impossible for an
opera that was carelessly studied to go off well, and therefore that
it never could give satisfaction; that once brought into discredit,
it would draw no audience, and then the time and money expended upon
it would be sheer waste. With this self-willed, obstinate man, who,
moreover, before my appointment had never met with any opposition in
the management, every sensible representation was ineffectual; and
as I would not allow any opera to be brought out until it had been
studied thoroughly as far as the means and strength of the company
allowed, our contest never ceased. This, together with an intimation
made by Mr. _Leers_ at a general meeting of the shareholders, “that for
their theatre they did not require a musical artist of eminence, but
merely a good indefatigable workman, who would devote his whole time
and energies to the theatre,” induced me to give in my resignation at
the next meeting of the committee, to date from the end of September
(1819). The news of this soon spread through the town, and excited
general regret among the lovers of music. _Börne_, in his journal
“The Balance” gave expression to his sentiments on the subject, and
indeed in a by no means gentle manner towards the theatrical-committee
of management. I left Frankfort with a light heart, for my summons
to that town had only been an interruption to the gratification of
my love of travelling; but my good wife was very grieved at it--she
who looked forward to the consequent separation from the children, as
these, from requiring now a regular school education, could no longer
be taken with us on our artistic tours. But I consoled her nevertheless
with the promise that she should always pass the summer months with
her children, and only travel with me during a period of from four to
five months in the winter. Before my departure from Frankfort I had
accepted an engagement from the Philharmonic Society of London for
the next season of the sitting of Parliament, which engagement was
offered me by _Ferdinand Ries_, the celebrated pianist and composer,
in the name of the society. This had been instituted but a few years
before by from twelve to sixteen of the most eminent musical artists in
London: _Clementi_, the two _Cramers_, _Moscheles_, _Ries_, _Potter_,
_Smart_, and others, with the object of giving every year eight grand
concerts during the season. Notwithstanding the very high price of
admission, the number of subscribers was so great, that many hundreds
of those who had inscribed their names could not obtain seats at the
commencement of the season, and could obtain them only by degrees in
the course of the summer. The funds of the society were therefore so
great, that they could not only engage the first artists and singers in
London for the soli in their concerts, but the most reputed musicians
on the Continent.--In this manner I was also engaged for the season
of 1820, and for a considerable remuneration, which secured to me the
expenses of the journey thither and return, and the expenses of a four
months’ residence in London, I undertook the performance of a fourfold
duty. I was required, namely, to direct some of the eight concerts, to
play soli in some, to assist in all of them as orchestra violinist,
and lastly to leave in the hands of the society as their own property
one of my orchestral compositions. At the same time a benefit concert
was also insured to me in the rooms of the society, with the joint
assistance of the orchestra. Although my wife was not included in this
engagement, yet I could not make up my mind to leave her behind me for
four long months. It was therefore resolved, on consulting with my
family, that my wife should accompany me and make her appearance as
artiste in London at least in my own concerts. As the season commenced
in the middle of February, and therefore the sea-passage would be made
at the roughest time of the year, we resolved, in order to shorten it
as much as possible, to go by way of Calais; and in order to be enabled
to give concerts on the journey in the Belgian and French towns, to set
out six or eight weeks earlier. We first proceeded to Gandersheim to
my parents, who had undertaken the care and education of the children
during the winter, and then set out upon an artistic tour to Hamburg,
where we gave two concerts with very great success. I played there,
before highly respectable audiences, my new quartets, which had been
previously published there: they were exceedingly well accompanied,
and as violinist upon those occasions I made the most sensation with
my two solo-quartets. I played likewise a few times the two quintets,
and I found the passion for this kind of music to be greater here
than anywhere else, except perhaps in Vienna. In the catalogue of my
compositions, _Goethe’s_ ballad “Wenn die Reben blühen” is enumerated
as composed by me in Hamburg, but I do not now recollect the reason of
its being so designated.

We then proceeded to Berlin, Dresden, Leipsic, Cassel, and other
places, in all of which we gave concerts, but respecting all of them
I now no longer remember anything particular. Of our performances in
Berlin one of the newspapers gave a most favourable notice.

In Brussels we found another travelling artist-couple who, like
ourselves, gave performances on the harp and violin. They were Monsieur
_Alexandre Boucher_ and wife from Paris. I had already heard a good
deal about him and was therefore very desirous of making his personal
acquaintance. _Boucher_ had the reputation of being a distinguished
violinist, but a great charlatan also. He bore a striking resemblance
to _Napoleon_, both in the features of his face and in his figure, and
did his best to turn this resemblance to account. He had acquired by
study the deportment of the exiled emperor, his way of wearing his hat,
and of taking a pinch of snuff with the greatest possible exactitude.
When on his artistic tours he arrived in a town where he was unknown,
he immediately presented himself with these acquired arts on the public
promenade or in the theatre, in order to attract the notice of the
public and to be talked about; he even endeavoured to spread the report
that he was persecuted by the present sovereign and driven from France
on account of his resemblance to _Napoleon_, because it brought back
the recollection of the beloved exile to the mind of the people. In
Lille, at least, as I there afterwards learned, he had announced his
concert in the following manner: “Une malheureuse ressemblance me force
de m’expatrier; je donnerai donc, avant de quitter ma belle patrie,
un concert d’adieux,” etc. That announcement had contained also some
similar charlatanerie, as follows: “Je jouerai ce fameux concerto de
_Viotti_ en mi-mineur, dont l’éxécution à Paris m’a gagné le surnom:
_l’Alexandre_ des violons.”

I was just on the point of calling upon Monsieur _Boucher_, when he
anticipated me by paying me a visit. He offered in a most friendly
manner to assist me in the arrangements for my concert, and shewed
himself in every respect, deduction made of his self-glorification, a
very amiable man. He introduced us to several families who were lovers
of music, who then by inviting us to their musical parties, procured
for us the opportunity of hearing the _Boucher_-couple. Both shewed in
their joint performances great skill; but all the compositions they
played were poor and barren, and of those of Monsieur _Boucher_ himself
I no longer recollect anything. At first Monsieur _Boucher_ played a
quartet of _Haydn_, but introduced so many irrelevant and tasteless
ornaments, that it was impossible for me to feel any pleasure in it.
The manner in which _Boucher_ allowed himself to be waited upon by his
wife on these occasions was remarkable. When he had taken his seat at
the quartet desk, she would ask him for the key of the violin-case,
open it, bring him his violin, then the bow, which she had previously
resined; she then laid the music before him and lastly seated herself
near him, to turn over the pages. When we were then invited to play,
the whole of this process was inverted; for I not only fetched my own
instrument, but took my wife’s harp out of the case also, led her to
the seat where she was to play and then tuned up, all of which in the
previous performance had been the business of Madame _Boucher_. But I
took upon me the tuning of the harp upon every appearance in public,
not only to save my wife the trouble, but also to bring the instrument
to a perfectly pure and tempered pitch, which, as is well known, is not
so easy a matter. We played one of our brillant duets, and met with
great applause. _Boucher_ in particular seemed charmed with my play,
and he may perhaps have meant it with some sincerity; for in a letter
of recommendation which he gave me to Baron _d’Assignies_ in Lille,
and which the latter shewed to me as a curiosity, after describing the
characteristics of my play; he said: “Enfin, si je suis, comme on le
prétend, le _Napoléon_ des violons, Mr. _Spohr_ est bien le Moreau!”

My concert took place in the new large theatre and met with marked
approbation; but the receipts, after deduction of the very considerable
expenses, were but small, for our fame had not yet reached Brussels.
It is true we were invited by lovers of music and the public journals
to give a second concert; but as a favourable day did not immediately
offer, and our stay at the chief hotel where we had stopped was very
expensive, we preferred setting out immediately on our journey to Lille.

Arrived there, my first visit was to Monsieur _Vogel_, who had been
mentioned to me as the best violinist in the town and as director
of the dilettanti-concerts. I did not find him at home, but Madame
_Vogel_, who received me in a very cordial manner. When I told her my
name, her face became animated, and she anxiously inquired whether I
was the composer of the nonette, the theme of which she sang to me. As
I smiling replied yes, with an outburst of French vivacity she threw
her arms round my neck, and exclaimed: “Oh how delighted my husband
well be, _car il est fou de votre Nonetto!_” I had scarcely returned
to the inn, when Monsieur _Vogel_ appeared with a countenance lit up
with pleasure, and welcomed me with the warmth of an old friend. In the
house of this amiable couple we passed some very happy hours, and gave
a concert in the saloon of the dilettanti society, the arrangements
for which were made by Monsieur _Vogel_, the whole of the members of
the society being desirous to hear the composer of the so frequently
performed nonette play in person. The joint play of my wife and self
was especially received with such enthusiastic acclamation, that the
day was immediately fixed for a second concert. Some lovers of music
from the neighbouring town of Douay, who had come over to the concert,
invited us in the name of the musical society of that place to give
a concert in Douay also, and insured to us the sale of 400 tickets
at five francs each. I had therefore the finest prospect of carrying
from Lille plenty of money, when an unexpected occurrence quashed
all my hopes. The carriage was already packed and we were on the
point of starting for Douay, when the report was spread in the town
that the telegraph had just announced from Paris the assassination
of the Duke _de Berri_. It was not long before placards were posted
at the corners of the streets by order of the mayoralty, announcing
officially this mournful intelligence to the inhabitants of Lille. As
all concert-giving was now necessarily suspended throughout France,
but the period of my engagement in London not yet arrived, I was
easily induced by Messrs. _Vogel_, _d’Assignies_, and other lovers
of music, to remain yet longer in Lille. Private musical parties now
took place almost daily, and I had thus an opportunity of performing
all my quartets, quintets, and compositions for the harp to this
circle of enthusiastic lovers of music. I found on these occasions a
very sympathetic and graceful auditory, and therefore still recall
with infinite pleasure the remembrance of those musical soirées. At
these many other interesting things were related to me concerning
_Boucher_. Among others, upon one occasion, in the midst of his play,
when according to his idea something had gone wrong, he suddenly ceased
playing, and without paying any regard to those who accompanied him,
he again repeated the unlucky passage, addressing himself aloud with
the words: “Cela n’a pas réussi; allons, _Boucher_, encore une fois!”
The termination of his second and last concert was also of a highly
comic character. As his concluding subject he played a rondo of his own
composition which had at the end an impromptu cadence. At the rehearsal
he had begged the gentlemen dilettanti to fall in right vigorously with
their final tutti immediately after the shake of his cadence, and added
that he would give them the signal by stamping with his foot. In the
evening, when this concluding piece began, it was already very late,
and the dilettanti were growing impatient to get home to supper. But
when the cadence in which _Boucher_ as usual exhibited all his artistic
_tours de force_ seemed never likely to end, some of the gentlemen
put their instruments into their cases and slipped out. This was so
infectious, that in a few minutes the whole orchestra had disappeared.
_Boucher_, who in the enthusiasm of his play had observed nothing of
this, lifted his foot already at the commencement of his concluding
shake, in order to draw the attention of the orchestra beforehand to
the agreed signal. When he had now concluded the shake he was fully
satisfied of what would follow, namely the most vigorous entry of
the orchestra and the burst of applause it was to bring down from
the enraptured audience. His astonishment may therefore be imagined
when all that fell upon his ear was the loud stamp of his own foot.
Horrified he stared aghast around him, and beheld all the music desks
abandoned. But the public, who had already prepared themselves to see
this moment arrive, burst out into an uproarious laughter, in which
_Boucher_, with the best stomach he could, was obliged to join.

The time for our departure for London had now arrived. As I was
desirous of purchasing in London a new _Erard_ harp with the improved
_double movement_ for my wife, we left the old instrument in the care
of Monsieur _Vogel_. The family were very pleased at this, as they now
reckoned with certainty upon seeing us again on our return journey.

Arrived in Calais, I immediately went to the packet-boat office to take
our berth for the passage. Thence I took a walk to the port, to look
at the vessel in which we were to sail in the afternoon. As I now,
however, remarked that the sea, even in the inside of the harbour, was
very rough, and ran so high outside that the waves broke high over the
pier head, I lost all inclination to cross with the sea so stormy, and
hastened back to the office, to have the berths taken transferred for
the following day. In the afternoon while taking a walk in the town I
took good care not to take my wife near the sea, so that, dreading the
passage as she already did, she might not observe how rough it was.
The thoughts of being obliged to cross at so stormy a season of the
year with my delicate and nervous wife disturbed my rest throughout
the night; as soon as day broke I hastened therefore again down to
the harbour to see whether the storm had not abated. It appeared to
me to have done so, and I therefore fetched _Dorette_, brought her
on board, and advised her to lie down in the cabin. A good-natured
German who served as seaman on board this English packet-boat, promised
me to take every care of her and bring her all she might require.
This enabled me to go upon deck, where in the open air I hoped to be
somewhat enabled to resist sea-sickness. Meanwhile the preparations
were made for departure, and the vessel was towed out with long ropes
close along the left-hand side jetty of the harbour by from sixty to
eighty men. Scarcely, however, had she reached this, when a gigantic
wave seized her and in a moment hurled her to the opposite side of the
harbour, so that she was almost thrown against the extreme point of the
right-hand pier. Immediately upon this the waves broke over the deck,
and the hatches and cabin doors were obliged to be closed. Of all the
passengers I was the only one who remained on deck, and had seated
myself on a bench near the mast, round the foot of which was piled a
high coil of cable. Here I hoped to be protected from the water that
poured in torrents over the deck; but the waves soon broke in over the
bows to such a height, that to prevent being completely drenched by
them I was compelled to stand up upon the bench. I had not done this
many times, before I found my strength fail me to repeat it; and in
a short time therefore in spite of my thick cloak I found myself wet
through to the skin, which made my already wretched condition but more
distressing. In addition to this I was then seized with such violent
cramp in the stomach from the straining which follows when the stomach
has nothing more to yield, that I thought I should expire under it.
Fortunately, however, favoured by the storm, the passage was an
unusually quick one. Nevertheless, the three hours of its duration
seemed to me an eternity;--at length we arrived at Dover, but another
misfortune awaited us here; for on account of the tide being at ebb,
we could not enter the harbour, and were constrained to disembark the
passengers in open boats in the offing. For this purpose as soon as
we had cast anchor, the boats were lowered, and we were called to get
into them to be put on shore in the harbour. I now saw my suffering
fellow-passengers come from below, pale and trembling like ghosts from
the grave, and it was very evident that they had not fared better in
the cabin than I upon deck. At length, supported by the kind sailor,
my poor wife appeared also, in a most suffering condition. I was just
about to hasten to her, when a young and beautiful girl, whom I had
already remarked, it is true, when we came on board, but who then did
not think me worthy of a look, suddenly threw her arms round my neck,
and without uttering a word, clung close to me. I readily guessed the
motive of this extraordinary conduct. The poor, terrified creature had
been a joint spectator of the manner in which the first passengers
had been put on board the boat, and how when it had been lifted by
the still surging waves as high as the deck of the vessel, it then
sank as it were into an abyss, and was again lifted up, which was the
moment seized by the sailors to thrust another passenger or pitch
another object of luggage into it. This rough method of proceeding had
so terrified her, that she left the arm of the female who accompanied
her, and clung to me, whom she may have considered the strongest of the
passengers. There was no time for explanation; I bore her therefore in
my arms into the boat, and then hastened back to my wife, to put her
also into it. Scarcely had I effected this without accident, when the
still terrified fair one clung close to me anew, and indeed so as to
excite _Dorette’s_ extreme surprise. But the danger of the passage was
too absorbing to permit of any remark on the subject, and upon landing
the young girl had scarcely felt the firm ground under her feet than
she left hold of me without a word of thanks, and taking the arm
of her companion walked away. That she was some young lady of rank
accompanied by her governess, may be readily imagined from this truly
English behaviour.

Arrived at the inn, I exchanged my thoroughly wet clothes for dry ones,
and having satisfied our re-awakened appetite at the _table d’hôte_,
and gained strength for the further journey, we immediately took
places in the coach, which was to leave in the afternoon for London.
The greater part of this journey was made at night, and when on the
following morning we were set down in the yard of the coach-office
with our luggage, I found myself in very great difficulty. In spite of
every endeavour, I could not succeed in finding any one either there
or in the office to whom I could explain myself, for I knew not a
word of English, and none of all whom I addressed, understood either
German or French. Nothing therefore remained for me but to hunt up some
interpreter in the public street while my wife watched the luggage.
But it was yet early in the morning, and I saw therefore none but
people of the lower class, from whom I could hope nothing. At length
a better dressed man approached, whom I first addressed in German,
then, as he shook his head, expressed to him my wants in French; but
the man shrugged his shoulders and went on his way. A second person,
however, who had witnessed this scene, approached me, and asked me in
good French what it was I wanted? He was one who hired himself out as
day-interpreter, and out-door servant at hotels, and at my request
immediately fetched a hackney-coach for me, to drive to Mr. _Ries_,
whose address I fortunately remembered. We were now soon taken to the
lodgings that had been engaged for us, where we could at length repose
from the fatigues of our voyage and night journey.

The next morning, on which a meeting of the directors of the
Philharmonic society was to assemble, I was to be introduced to them by
Mr. _Ries_. I therefore made a careful toilette, and expressly for the
occasion put on a bright red Turkish shawl-pattern waistcoat forming
part of my ward-robe, and which was considered on the Continent as a
most elegant article and of the newest fashion. Scarcely had I appeared
in it in the street than I attracted the general attention of all who
passed. The grown-up people contented themselves with gazing at me
with looks of surprise, and then passed on their way; but the young
urchins of the street, were loud in their remarks, which unfortunately
I did not understand, and therefore could not imagine what it was in
me that so much displeased them. By degrees, however, they formed a
regular tail behind me, which grew constantly louder in speech and
more and more unruly. A passer-by addressed me and probably gave me
some explanation of its meaning; but as it was in English, I could
derive no benefit from it. Fortunately Mr. _Ries_’ house was not very
distant, and I reached it shortly after. His wife, a young amiable
English woman, and who spoke French fluently, now soon solved for me
the problem of my adventure. The death of George III. had but recently
taken place and a general mourning had been officially ordered, and
according to English custom no person durst appear in public otherwise
than in a black suit. In all other respects it is true my dress was
black, and therefore in accordance with the requisition, but the
unfortunate red waistcoat contrasted with it but the more prominently.
Mrs. _Ries_ observed to me that I had doubtless to thank my imposing
height and my earnest expression of countenance for having escaped from
the rude licence of the boys in the street, and from their resort to
its more open exhibition of pelting me with mud. In order to avoid all
further offence, _Ries_ then first drove with me to my lodgings, in
order to exchange my red waistcoat for a black one.

After I had been welcomed in a friendly manner by the directors of the
Philharmonic Society, some of whom spoke German and others French, a
council was held respecting the programme of the first concert. At this
I was required to play solo twice and to lead as first violin. To this
I replied that I was quite ready to perform the first, but must beg
that I might be permitted to lead in one of the subsequent concerts,
as my solo play would appear to less advantage if both were required
of me on one and the same evening. Clear as this was acknowledged to
be by some of the gentlemen who were themselves solo-players, yet
it gave rise at first to a long and earnest discussion, as it was
contrary to the custom of the society, but at length it was complied
with. Still greater subject of offence, however, was my request to be
permitted on this my first appearance to play my own compositions only.
The Philharmonic Society, in order to exclude from their programmes
all shallow and worthless virtuosi-concerti, had laid down the law,
that with the exception of the pianoforte concerti of _Mozart_ and
_Beethoven_ no similar musical pieces should be played, and that
solo players had only to perform that which they should select.
Nevertheless, after _Ries_ had continued the discussion in English,
and therefore unintelligibly to me, and represented to the gentlemen
that my violin-concerts in Germany would therefore become excluded
by their bann, they at length yielded in this also. I therefore at
the first Philharmonic concert, came forward with my cantabile scena,
and in the second part with a solo quartet in E major, and met with
great and general applause. As a composer it afforded me an especial
gratification that the whole of the directors now shared the opinion
of Mr. _Ries_, and as a violinist the greatest pleasure, that old
_Viotti_, who had always been my pattern, and was to have been my
instructor in my youth, was among the auditory and spoke to me in great
praise of my play. As I had thus so successfully passed through the
ordeal of my first appearance in London, I devoted the next day to
the delivery of my letters of recommendation. Not knowing a word of
English this was for me by no means a pleasant business, and brought me
into frequent perplexity. Not having been told that in London people
announced themselves by knocking at the street doors, and gentlemen
always by giving a succession of loud rapid knocks; I, in German
fashion, rang very gently at the bell, which is done in London only
by those who have business with the kitchen, and I could not imagine
why the servants who opened the door always looked at me with an
expression of astonishment, and could not at all imagine that I wished
my name to be announced to their masters. As those also for whom my
visit was intended frequently understood as little as their servants
either German or French, the most perplexing scenes were of frequent
occurrence. I was however exceedingly amused by one at _Rothschild’s_,
to whom I brought a letter of recommendation from his brother at
Frankfort, and a letter of credit from _Speyer_. After _Rothschild_
had taken both letters from me and glanced hastily over them, he said
to me in a more subdued tone of voice: “I have just read (pointing to
the “Times”) that you managed your business very efficiently. But I
understand nothing of music; this is my music (slapping his purse),
they understand that on the exchange!” Upon which, with a nod of the
head, he terminated the audience.--But just as I had reached the door,
he called after me: “You can come and dine with me, too, out at my
country-house!” A few days afterwards also Madame _Rothschild_ invited
me to dinner; but I did not go, although she repeated the invitation.
Nevertheless, the letter of recommendation to _Rothschild_ was not
wholly useless, for he took a whole box at my benefit concert.

As immediately on our arrival in London I was obliged to prepare for
my appearance in public; and my wife was engrossed with our domestic
arrangements, we had unfortunately delayed writing to apprise my
parents at Gandersheim of our safe arrival, by which the old folks
were thrown into a state of alarm from which they did not recover for
a long time. The vessel in which we had designed to cross the channel
on the day of our arrival in Calais, and for which I had at first paid
the passage money, and had the tickets transferred for the next day’s
packet, on account of the roughness of the weather, had been driven
completely down channel and was given up for lost, until it at length
turned up again somewhere on the coast of Spain. A French newspaper had
cited our names among the passengers on board. What therefore could
be natural, than that the French papers should collectively announce:
“The artist-couple _Spohr_ and wife have perished on the passage to
England.” This was soon copied into German papers, and to wit into the
country paper taken in by my parents. Unfortunately, this first fell
into the hands of my mother, who was already in a state of anxiety from
the long delay of letters from England. A shriek of anguish and
an immediate fainting of it were the result of this. The whole family
was thrown into confusion, and when at length my mother recovered her
senses, there began a general outburst of tears and mourning. My sister
first recovered some calmness of mind, and urged as subject of hope and
consideration how frequently newspaper reports were wholly false. She
also entreated that no one should speak on the subject in the presence
of my children, who were now seen returning from school, which request
was faithfully promised. But my mother could not refrain from embracing
those she believed to be now orphans with more than usual tenderness.
This circumstance, together with the yet swollen eyes of the mourners,
excited no small astonishment in the children, and when no reply was
made to the inquiries they made respecting these incidents, and no one
would sit down to supper, they also began to weep, without knowing
wherefore.

At length the arrival of the postman put an end to this painful scene.
All sprang up delighted, with the expectation of a letter from England.
But the joy was but of short duration, for when they recognised the
“Frankfort” post-mark and _Speyer’s_ hand writing on the address, they
now indeed believed that they were about to read nothing else than the
corroboration of the sad newspaper report. No one, therefore, had the
courage to open the letter, until at length my sister summoned the
resolution. Scarcely had she glanced her eyes over a few words than
she exclaimed with joy: “They have arrived safe,” and then handed the
letter to my father, who read it aloud to them with great emotion.
_Speyer_ informed them that he had just received the announcement
from the house of _Rothschild_ in London, that they had there made
me a payment of money, and that therefore the newspaper report of
the loss of Herr _Spohr_ and his wife was unfounded, which he had
therewith immediately communicated to allay all their alarm. A general
exclamation of joy was now uttered by all, and the previously neglected
evening meal was turned into a very feast of delight. Immediately after
supper my father seated himself at his writing table, to thank Mr.
_Speyer_ for his kind attention, and to give the editor of the country
paper a sound rating for having thrown a family into such grief by the
heedless insertion of an unauthenticated report in his columns.

The following day my letter arrived also from London, and increased yet
more by its good intelligence the joy of my family.

At the house of Mr. _Ries_ I had made the acquaintance of Mr. _Erard_,
the head of the London firm _Erard Brothers_, and accompanied by my
wife had already visited his show rooms of finished harps. We could
not however immediately make up our minds in the choice of one, as
_Dorette_ wished first to try which size would suit her best, and
in particular whether she could be able to accustom herself to the
new mechanism. Mr. _Erard_ removed all hesitation from her mind in
that respect, by kindly offering to lend her a harp for trial and
choice, during our stay in London, which if it did not suit her, she
could change for another or wholly return. This offer she thankfully
accepted, and began immediately to practise on the new instrument; but
at first she could not well succeed upon it. The new harp, though of
the smallest pattern, was nevertheless considerably larger, as well
as much more strongly strung, than her own, and therefore required a
greater exertion of strength, and it was very difficult for her to
acquire a mastery of the new mechanism _à double movement_, from being
accustomed from her childhood to the single movement. She therefore
soon felt convinced that it would require several months’ practice
on this harp before she could play upon it in public, and I accordingly
resolved to allow her to appear once only, at my benefit-concert, in
order that she might give an additional attraction to it. Meanwhile
my turn had come to direct one of the Philharmonic concerts, and I
had created no less sensation than with my solo play. It was at that
time still the custom there that when symphonies and overtures were
performed, the pianist had the score before him, not exactly to conduct
from it, but only to read after and to play in with the orchestra at
pleasure, which when it was heard, had a very bad effect. The real
conductor was the first violin, who gave the _tempi_, and now and
then when the orchestra began to falter gave the beat with the bow
of his violin. So numerous an orchestra, standing so far apart from
each other as that of the Philharmonic, could not possibly go exactly
together, and in spite of the excellence of the individual members, the
_ensemble_ was much worse than we are accustomed to in Germany. I had
therefore resolved when my turn came to direct, to make an attempt to
remedy this defective system. Fortunately at the morning rehearsal on
the day when I was to conduct the concert, Mr. _Ries_ took the place
at the Piano, and he readily assented to give up the score to me and
to remain wholly excluded from all participation in the performance.
I then took my stand with the score at a separate music desk in front
of the orchestra, drew my directing baton from my coat pocket and gave
the signal to begin. Quite alarmed at such a novel procedure, some of
the directors would have protested against it; but when I besought them
to grant me at least one trial, they became pacified. The symphonies
and overtures that were to be rehearsed were well known to me, and in
Germany I had already directed at their performance. I therefore could
not only give the tempi in a very decisive manner, but indicated also
to the wind instruments and horns all their entries, which ensured to
them a confidence such as hitherto they had not known there. I also
took the liberty, when the execution did not satisfy me, to stop, and
in a very polite but earnest manner to remark upon the manner of
execution, which remarks Mr. _Ries_ at my request interpreted to the
orchestra. Incited thereby to more than usual attention, and conducted
with certainty by the _visible_ manner of giving the time, they played
with a spirit and a correctness such as till then they had never
been heard to play with. Surprised and inspired by this result the
orchestra immediately after the first part of the symphony, expressed
aloud its collective assent to the new mode of conducting, and thereby
overruled all further opposition on the part of the directors. In the
vocal pieces also, the conducting of which I assumed at the request
of Mr. _Ries_, particularly in the recitative, the leading with
the baton, after I had explained the meaning of my movements, was
completely successful, and the singers repeatedly expressed to me their
satisfaction for the precision with which the orchestra now followed
them.

The result in the evening was still more brillant than I could have
hoped for. It is true, the audience were at first startled by the
novelty, and were seen whispering together; but when the music began
and the orchestra executed the well-known symphony with unusual power
and precision, the general approbation was shewn immediately on the
conclusion of the first part by a long-sustained clapping of hands.
The triumph of the baton as a time-giver was decisive, and no one was
seen any more seated at the piano during the performance of symphonies
and overtures. On this evening also the concert overture which I
had composed before I left Frankfort was given for the first time.
As it pleased very much the Philharmonic society accepted it as the
composition which according to my contract I was to leave in their
hands. I kept no copy of it and soon forgot it entirely, so that a few
years afterwards when preparing a thematic catalogue of my compositions
I could not recal to mind the beginning of it, for which reason the
theme of it is wholly wanting in the text.

During the delivery of my letters of introduction in London, as also
upon many other occasions, I had so much felt the want of some one
to serve me as interpreter that I was continually making inquiries
for a person to accompany me who could speak German and English. At
length Mr. _Ries_ bethought him of an old servant of the deceased
_Salomon_[25] of the name of _Johanning_, who would be competent
to fill that office. It is true, that he had retired from service,
and as heir to his late master had bought a small country-house in
the neighbourhood of London. Mr. _Ries_ hoped nevertheless that the
yet vigorous old man would consent to take the situation, for which
purpose he sent for him to town, and the offer on my part was made to
him. When he learned that it was to enter the service of a German and
a musician, and furthermore of a violinist, as his deceased master
had been, he immediately expressed his readiness, and even left it
to my option what remuneration I should give him at the close of
the season. Thenceforth he came every morning into town, and having
first interpreted the wishes of my wife to the landlady respecting
the dinner, he then accompanied me on my rounds of business. From his
long residence in London, however, he had forgotten a great deal of
his German, and his English doubtless was not very classic; for in
his interpreting frequent misunderstandings would take place. When I
had thus presented the remainder of my letters of introduction with
less difficulty than before, I again found time and leisure for new
compositions. I first wrote a symphony (the second D flat, Op. 49) and
played it for the first time at one of the Philharmonic concerts, which
I had to conduct, April 10. 1820. At its rehearsal, it met with very
great approbation both from the orchestra and the numerous persons who
were present; but in the evening it was received with real enthusiasm.
I had in part to thank the numerous and particularly excellent stringed
instruments of the orchestra for this brillant success, and in this
composition I had given them a special opportunity of exhibiting
their skill in playing with purity and precision of _ensemble_. In
fact, as regards the stringed instruments, I have never since heard
that symphony given with so much effect as on that evening. The next
morning all the London newspapers contained reports respecting the
new symphony that had been composed in their town, and vied with each
other in their praise of it. Similar favourable notices of my play upon
every occasion of my appearance soon spread my fame throughout the
town, and pupils readily presented themselves to receive instruction
from me on the violin, as well as ladies who were desirous of being
accompanied on the piano. As all expressed their willingness to pay a
guinea for each hour’s instruction, I readily accepted their offers,
as I considered that I owed it to my family to turn the good fortune
I had met with in London as a musician to my pecuniary advantage. In
this manner, after having first devoted a few hours to composition
at home or to music with my wife, I was running or driving about all
day in huge London, and frequently right weary of it; for the greater
part of my pupils had neither talent nor application, and took lessons
of me merely to be enabled to say that they were pupils of _Spohr_.
I nevertheless call to mind with some pleasure several originals who
amused me with their singularities, and therewith somewhat relieved the
bitter trouble I had with them. One was an old general on half-pay,
but who always made his appearance in full uniform, decorated with all
his orders, and with the extreme of high military bearing. He, as an
exception, came always to my house, but, nevertheless, required to play
for three quarters of an hour only, as according to the custom there
deduction was made of the quarter of an hour for the drive. He came
every morning, Sundays excepted, in his old state carriage, precisely
at 12 o’clock, ordered one of his belaced and powdered footmen to
bring up his violin-case, and after a dumb greeting sat himself down
immediately to his music desk. But previous to that he took out his
watch to see at what o’clock the lesson would commence, and then set
it down close to him. He would bring easy duets with him, chiefly of
_Pleyel_, in which I played second violin. Although there were many
things in his play that indicated the unpractised pupil, I soon saw
that it would not be wise to point them out to him; I contented myself
therefore with accommodating my tones as much as possible to those of
the old gentleman, and so we played one duet after the other in the
best concord. As soon, however, as we had played the three quarters of
an hour, the general would stop, though in the middle of the piece,
take from his waistcoat pocket a one-pound note in which a shilling was
wrapped up, and put it upon the table. He would then take up his watch,
and take leave in the same taciturn manner as he had entered.

[25] It was this _Salomon_, who, as concert-giver, induced his friend
_Haydn_ to visit London and compose symphonies for his concerts; and
to him therefore the musical world owes the twelve most beautiful
symphonies _Haydn_ wrote.

The other original was an old lady whom I accompanied on the piano.
She was a passionate admirer of _Beethoven_, against which I had
nothing to say, but she had the whim, moreover, never to play any
other music than that of her favorite. She had all _Beethoven’s_
pianoforte-compositions, as also his orchestral works arranged for
the piano. Her apartment was also hung with every portrait of him
that she had been able to procure. As many of these differed greatly
in resemblance to each other, she urged me to inform her which most
resembled him of the whole. She possessed also some relics of him which
had been brought to her from Vienna by English travellers, among others
a button of his dressing-gown and a piece of music paper with some note
marks and ink-blots from his hand. When I apprized her that I had lived
for some time on terms of great intimacy with him, I rose greatly in
her estimation, and she had then so much to ask that on some days we
never played at all. She spoke French with tolerably fluency, and could
even bring out a few words of German. Her pianoforte play was not at
all bad, so that I was rather pleased to play the sonatas for piano and
violin. But when she subsequently produced the trios also, and played
with me _without_ violoncello, and then even the piano concertos, in
which, with the exception of first orchestral-violin, which I played,
all else was wanting, it became very clear to me that her enthusiasm
for _Beethoven_ was nothing but affectation, and that she had not the
least perception of the excellence of his compositions.

I became acquainted with a third singular character in the following
manner. One morning a servant in livery brought a letter to me, which
my old _Johanning_ translated in the following manner: “Mr. _Spohr_
is requested to call at the house of the undersigned, at 4 o’clock
precisely.” As I did not know the name appended to the note, nor could
ascertain from the servant the purpose for which my attendance was
requested, I replied thereto in an equally laconic manner: “At the
hour indicated I am engaged and cannot come.” The next morning the
servant reappeared with a second much more polite note: “Mr. _Spohr_
is requested to honour the undersigned with a visit, and to appoint
the time himself.” At the same time the servant had been ordered to
offer his master’s carriage, and as I had been meanwhile informed
that the writer was a celebrated physician, who frequently attended
concerts, and interested himself especially in violin music, I no
longer hesitated to go, but indicated the appointed hour to the servant
and was duly fetched in the doctor’s carriage. An amiable old gentlemen
with snow white hair received me at the foot of the stairs, but we
now discovered to our mutual regret that we could not make ourselves
intelligible to each other, for he spoke neither German nor French.
We stood opposite to each other in great embarassment, until he took
me by the arm and led me into a spacious room on the walls of which a
number of violins were hung. Others had been taken from their cases
and placed upon tables. The doctor handed a bow to me and pointed to
the instruments. I now comprehended that I was to give my opinion of
the respective merits of the violins, and immediately began to try
them and to arrange them in order according to their worth. This was
no easy work to do; for there were a great number of them, and the
old gentleman brought them all in succession, without omitting one.
When at length, after the lapse of about an hour, I had found the
best six of them, and still played on these alternately to discover
the very best of them, I observed that the doctor eyed one of them
with looks of particular fondness, and his face lit up with pleasure
every time I struck the strings. I therefore readily gave the kind old
gentleman the satisfaction of indicating that instrument as the matador
of the whole collection. Quite delighted with this announcement, he
now brought a _viola d’amour_, and began to play a fantasia on this
long-unused instrument. I listened to him with pleasure, as I had not
heard the instrument before and the doctor played by no means ill.
Thus terminated the interview to the satisfaction of both, and I had
taken up my hat, to take my leave of him when the old gentleman, with
a kindly expression of countenance and several low bows, handed to
me a five-pound note. Astonished at this, I looked at the note and
the donor, and at first knew not what he meant; when it struck me
that he intended it as a remuneration for my testing his violins, and
shaking my head with a smile, I laid the note on the table, pressed
the doctor’s hand with warmth, and hastened down stairs. He followed
me out into the street, assisted me into the carriage and then spoke
some words with evident emotion to his coachman. This had made so
much impression on the coachman, that he immediately told it to old
_Johanning_, who had come with the carriage, to open the door. He
had said to him: “You are driving there a German who is a perfect
gentleman; and I expect you will take him home to his house with the
greatest care.”--A few months afterwards, when I gave my benefit
concert, the doctor sent for a ticket and forwarded to me at the same
time a ten-pound note.

Meanwhile my wife had by unflagging industry acquired great proficiency
on the new harp, but in doing so--on account of the greater stretch
of arm it required and the stronger tension of the strings--she had
exerted herself over much and now suffered greatly from the exhaustion
it had induced. From former experience I had learned that nothing so
quickly imparted fresh strength to her nerves as the frequent enjoyment
of fresh air. I therefore availed myself of every moment of sunshine
in the first days of spring to take gentle walks into Regent’s Park,
which was very near to our dwelling in Charlotte Street. On Sundays,
when all music ceases in London, and when even without fear of giving
offence we could not play in our own apartments, we used to make more
distant excursions to Hampstead, and to the other parks. Our companion
and guide was alternately the younger _Ries_ and an old amiable man of
the name of _Stumpf_, an instrument maker. I soon had the gratification
of seeing my wife regain fresh strength and spirits from the mild
influence of the English spring, but I adhered strictly to my previous
resolution that she should appear once only at my own concert, and
declined with firmness several offers that were made to her. But as
for myself, I played at all concerts where they were willing to pay
the price I asked, and as this according to English notions was not
excessively high, I was in frequent requisition, and saw my name
announced on almost all the concert-programmes of the season. But
I never could make up my mind to play for remuneration at private
parties, for the manner in which musicians were then treated there, was
to me most unbecoming and degrading. They were not admitted to join
the company, but were shewn into an adjoining room, where they had to
wait until the moment arrived when they were summoned to the apartments
where the company was assembled before whom they were to play; their
performance over, they had to leave the room again immediately. My wife
and I were ourselves once eyewitnesses of this contemptuous treatment
of the first and most eminent artists in London. We had received
letters of introduction to the king’s brothers the Dukes of _Sussex_
and _Clarence_, and as the latter was married to a German, a Princess
of Meiningen, I paid them a visit accompanied by my wife. The Ducal
couple received us in a very kind manner and invited us to a musical
party they were to give in a few days and at which we were also asked
to assist. I then thought in what way I could best extricate myself
from this disgusting exclusion from the company, and resolved if I
could not succeed to return home immediately. When therefore we entered
the palace, and a lacquey was on the point of opening the door of the
room where the other musicians were assembled, I told _Johanning_ to
deliver my violin case to him, and with my wife on my arm, immediately
ascended the staircase before the lacquey had time to recover from his
astonishment. Arrived at the door of the apartments where the company
were assembled, I announced my name to the footman in waiting, and as
he hesitated to open the door I evinced an intention of opening it
myself. Upon this the lacquey instantly threw open the door and called
out the names of the new-comers. The Duchess, alive to German usages,
rose immediately from her seat, advanced a few steps to meet my wife,
and led her into the circle of ladies. The Duke welcomed me also with
a few friendly words and introduced me to the gentlemen around him. I
now thought I had successfully achieved all; but I soon observed that
the servants notwithstanding not did consider me as properly belonging
to the company, for they always passed me by with the tea-tray and
other refreshments, without offering me any. At length the Duke may
also have remarked this; for I saw him whisper a few words in the ear
of the steward of the household. After this the refreshments were also
presented to me. When the concert was to commence the steward of the
household sent a servant to summon the invited artists in the order
in which their names appeared on the programme. They hereupon entered
the apartment with their sheet of music or instrument in hand, saluted
the company with a profound bow, and began their performances. They
were the _élite_ of the most distinguished singers and musicians in
London, and the execution of their respective pieces was almost without
exception charmingly beautiful. This, however, did not appear to be
felt by the noble and fashionable auditory; for they did not cease
their conversation one moment. Once only when a very favorite female
singer entered the room they became somewhat more silent, and a few
subdued _bravas_ were heard, for which she immediately returned thanks
with profound curtsies. I was exceedingly annoyed by this derogation of
art and still more so with the artists who submitted to be so treated,
and I had a great mind not to play at all. When the turn came to me,
therefore, I purposely hesitated so long till the Duke, probably at
a sign made to him by his wife, invited me himself to play. I then
requested one of the servants to bring up my violin case, and I then
began to play the piece I had proposed to myself without making the
customary bows to the company. All these circumstances excited no
doubt the attention of the company, for during the whole time of my
performance the greatest stillness pervaded the apartment. When I had
concluded the ducal pair and their guests applauded. Now also I first
expressed my thanks by making a bow. Shortly afterwards the concert
terminated, and the musicians retired. If our having constituted
ourselves part of the company had furnished matter of surprise, this
was still more increased when they saw that we stopped there also to
supper, and during the supper were treated with great attention by
the ducal hosts. The circumstance to which we doubtless owed this
distinction--one so unheard-of and repugnant to all English notions of
that day--was the fact that the Duchess had known us while yet living
in her paternal house, and had there witnessed the friendly reception
which, at the time when we lived at Gotha, we had frequently met with
at the court of Meiningen. The Duke of _Sussex_, to whom I had brought
a letter of recommendation from the Duke of _Cambridge_, then regent of
Hanover, received me also with great distinction and conversed with me
a good deal. During a conversation we had upon the subject of English
national songs, the Duke even sent for his guitar and sang to me some
English and Irish national songs, which afterwards suggested to me the
idea of working up some of the most popular of these as a pot-pourri
for my instrument, and of introducing the same at my concert.[26]
When the company broke up, which was not till long after midnight, we
returned home greatly pleased with the result of our daring and with
the victory we had gained over the prejudices of London society.

[26] This is the Op. 59, the second of my works written in London.

Among those who solicited me to play solo at their concerts was Sir
_George Smart_, one of the directors of the Philharmonic Society.
During the season he gave a succession of subscription concerts which
he called “sacred concerts,” in which nevertheless a great deal of the
music was “worldly” also. I played at two of them, in return for which
Sir George undertook the arrangements for my benefit-concert--a by no
means light task even for a native well versed in the matter, and which
if I had undertaken in person would perhaps have occupied six weeks of
my time, which I could employ in a much more advantageous manner. My
concert took place on the 18th. June, and was one of the most brillant
and well attended of the whole season. Almost every person to whom we
had brought letters of recommendation--and among them also the Dukes of
_Sussex_ and _Clarence_--had taken either boxes or reserved seats, and
several of those wealthy personages had forwarded considerable sums for
them.

A great number of the subscribers to the Philharmonic Society also
retained their seats, and as the lowest price for a ticket was half
a guinea, and the room held nearly a thousand people, the receipts
were very considerable. I derived a great additional advantage from
the circumstance, that the expenses which otherwise in London are
enormously high, were greatly reduced on this occasion by the refusal
of several of the members of the orchestra to receive any gratuity,
from a friendly feeling towards me, and from the agreement previously
entered into by me with the Philharmonic Society, that the use of the
rooms should cost me nothing. On the other hand, however, I had to pay
all the singers, and I yet well remember that I was obliged to pay Mrs.
_Salmon_, the then most popular female vocalist in London, and without
whose presence my concert would have been considered not sufficiently
attractive, the sum of thirty pounds sterling for a single song; and
she made it a further condition of agreement, that she should not
sing until towards the end of the concert, as she had first to sing
at a concert in the city, six miles off. I must here mention also a
singular custom which prevailed at all concerts in London at that time,
which now, however, like many other strange practices of that period,
has been discontinued. Namely, it was required that the party giving
the concert should provide the auditory with refreshments during the
pause between the first and second parts of the concert. These were
accordingly supplied at a buffet in an adjoining room, and one was
obliged to agree beforehand with the confectioner upon the sum for
their purveyance, which at my concert was undertaken for ten pounds
sterling. If the company consisted for the most part of persons of
rank and fashion, with whom it was not usual to take any refreshments,
the confectioner used to make a good thing of it, but if it was a
very numerous and mixed company, and the heat very great, he might
frequently be a loser. But he never did a better stroke of business
than at my concert.

This took place on the very day that Queen _Charlotte_ of England made
her entry into London on her return from Italy, to make her defence
before Parliament against the charge of infidelity brought against her
by her husband. All London was divided into two parties, the larger of
which, composed of the middle and lower classes, was on the side of
the Queen. The town was in the greatest commotion, and it was a very
fortunate thing for me that I had already disposed of the whole of the
tickets for my concert, as otherwise by this unfavourable circumstance
I might have incurred a very great loss. The bills announcing my
concert, posted at the corners of the streets, were quickly pasted
over and covered with large placards in which in the name of the people
a general illumination of the town was called for to celebrate the
day; and _Johanning_ brought me word that the populace threatened to
smash the windows in every house, where this call was not complied
with. As at that time the police force as well as the few military
were not sufficiently numerous to protect the royal palaces from the
threatened excesses of the populace, the partisans of the king, who
were wholly unable to repress the tumult, were compelled to abide the
worst, and contented themselves with making the best use of the short
notice given by having their windows nailed up with boards, in order
to save their costly mirrors and furniture. In this manner during the
whole of the day the sound of the carpenter’s hammer was everywhere
heard, particularly in Portland Place, close adjoining where many of
the nobility resided, and these preparations of defence were subjects
of great derision and amusement to the young vagabonds of the street.
While we were rehearsing at home the pieces to be performed in the
evening, the people poured in crowds through the streets to meet the
Queen upon her entry. As this took place in the direction of the city,
it became perfectly quiet towards evening at the West-end. We found
therefore, as we drove at half-past eight o’clock to the concert-rooms,
the streets almost less thronged than usual, and met with no obstacle
on our way. But we remarked everywhere active preparations for the
illumination, in order that the sovereign will of the people might be
immediately complied with. My wife, who was somewhat nervous respecting
her first public appearance with the new harp, was in great trepidation
as to what might occur from this excitement of the populace, and I
was greatly afraid that the agitation in which I saw her would be
prejudicial both to her play and to her health. I therefore endeavoured
to soothe her by argument and persuasion, in which I happily succeeded.
The concert-room filled by degrees with a numerous auditory and the
concert began. I am able to give here the entire programme, as Sir
_G. Smart_ upon my last visit to London (in the year 1852) made me a
present of a copy of that which was handed at the time to the audience
upon their entry into the rooms. It runs as follows:

  NEW ARGYLL ROOMS.

  M^R. SPOHR’S CONCERT.

  Thursday, June 18th. 1820.

         *       *       *       *       *

  ~PART I.~

  Grand Sinfonia (M. S.)                                 ~Spohr~.

  Air, Mr. T. ~Welch~, “Revenge, revenge, Timotheus
  cries”                                                 ~Haendel~.

  Grand Duetto (M. S.), Harp and Violin, Mad.
  ~Spohr~ and Mr. ~Spohr~                      ~Spohr~.

  Aria, Miss ~Goodall~, “Una voce al cor mi parla.”
  Clarinet obligato, Mr. ~Willman~                  ~Pær~.

  Sestetto for Pianoforte, two Violins, Viola, Violincello
  and Contrabasso, Messrs.:
  ~Ries~, ~Watts~, ~Wagstaff~, R. ~Ashley~,
  ~Lindley~ and ~Dragonetti~                   ~Ries~.

  Irish Melodies (M. S.), with Variations for the
  Violin, Mr. ~Spohr~ (composed expressly
  for this occasion)                                     ~Spohr~.

  ~PART II.~

  Nonotto for Violin, Viola, Violincello, Contrabasso,
  Flute, Oboe, Clarinet, Horn and
  Bassoon, Messrs. ~Spohr~, ~Lindley~,
  ~Dragonetti~, ~Ireland~, ~Griesbach~,
  ~Willman~, ~Arnull~ and ~Holmes~        ~Spohr~.

  Scena, Mrs. ~Salmon~ “Fellon, la pena avrai”      ~Rossini~.

  Rondo for the Violin, Mr. ~Spohr~                 ~Spohr~.

  Aria, Mr. Vaughan “Rendi’l sereno”                     ~Haendel~.

  Overture                                               ~Spohr~.

         *       *       *       *       *

  Leader of the Band      Mr. ~Spohr~.

  At the Pianoforte       Sir George ~Smart~.


The new symphony, though already known to the orchestra, was again
carefully rehearsed through with them, and was executed in a masterly
manner, and it met with a more lively applause, if possible, than on
its first performance. While the air that followed was being sung I
tuned my wife’s harp for her in the adjoining room and spoke some words
of encouragement to her. I then led her into the concert-room and we
took our places to begin the duet. Silent expectation pervaded the
whole auditory, and our first tones were eagerly awaited, when suddenly
a fearful noise was heard in the street, which was immediately followed
by a volley of paving stones against the unilluminated windows of the
adjoining room. Terrified at the noise of the breaking glass of the
windows and chandeliers, the ladies sprang up from their seats, and a
scene of indescribable confusion and alarm ensued. In order to prevent
a second, volly of missiles, the gas lights in the adjoining apartment
were speedily lighted, and we were not a little gratified to find that
the mob after giving another uproarious cheer at the success of their
demonstration went on their way, and thus by degrees the previous quiet
was restored. But it was some time before the public resumed their
places in the room and became so far tranquillized that we could at
length begin. I was not a little fearful that the fright and the long
pause would make my wife still more nervous and I listened therefore
to her first accords in the greatest anxiety; but when I heard these
resound with their usual power I became immediately tranquillized, and
gave my attention wholly to the unity and ensemble of our play. This,
which in Germany had always pleased so much, did not fail to make its
effect upon an English audience also; the applause, indeed, increased
with every theme of the duet, and at its conclusion seemed as though it
never would cease. As we retired highly gratified with this success, we
neither of us thought that it was the _last time_, that _Dorette_ would
play on the harp. But of that hereafter!

As regards the other items of the programme in which I took part, I
was particularly pleased with the good reception which the nonette met
with. I had already played it with the same artists at one of the
Philharmonic concerts, and was invited on many sides to repeat it at my
concert. The accuracy of our _ensemble_ was this time more complete,
and therefore it could not fail in its effect. The Irish melodies were
generally well received. Thus, in spite of the disturbing intermezzo,
the concert terminated to the general satisfaction of all. The interval
after the first part and the promenade in the adjoining saloon were
this time entirely prevented by the damage which it had sustained; the
confectioner told me that, having had no demand for his refreshments,
he was the ten pound in pocket, although he had had some things smashed
on the buffet by the volley of stones. When at length, exceedingly
fatigued, we got into our carriage, we were not able to drive straight
home, as the mob in the neighbourhood of Portland Place still had it
all their own way. The coachman was therefore obliged to take all
manner of circuitous turnings, and it was past one in the morning
when we at length drove up to our own door. With the exception of our
floor we found the whole house lit up, and the landlady was awaiting
our return in the greatest anxiety, in order to light up our windows
also. And indeed it was high time; for the mob were heard approaching.
But as in obedience to their sovereign will they found the whole of
Charlotte-street brilliantly illuminated, they passed on without
committing any excesses. But it was not safe to extinguish the lights,
and not until the lapse of several hours, when the town had become
quite quiet, did we at length get the rest we so much needed.

       *       *       *       *       *

Now comes a sorrowful period in my life, on which I now still think
with grief. My wife felt so ill from the effects of the great exertions
she had made in acquiring the mastery of the new harp and the alternate
impressions upon her nervous system on the evening of the concert,
that I was greatly afraid she was about to have a third attack of
nervous fever. It was therefore high time to come to some firm
resolve as regarded her future well-being. Already after her second
attack in Darmstadt, when she had become fully restored to health,
I had endeavoured to persuade her to abandon her nerve-destroying
instrument, but when I saw how much this proposition distressed her, I
again immediately relinquished it. She was too much heart and soul the
artiste, and had acquired too great a love for the instrument to which
she owed so many triumphs, to be able to give it up readily; and it had
always been a source of happiness to her to think that she could assist
with her talent towards the maintenance of our family. But now, that
she was but too convinced that her physical powers were not sufficient
to conquer the new instrument, and a return to the old one would not
satisfy her after having made herself intimately acquainted with the
advantages of the new one in tone and mechanism, it became much easier
for me to win her over to my way of thinking, particularly when I
represented to her that as the artiste she could still be known, and
in future appear at my concerts as pianiste, for which she had all the
necessary qualifications. This tranquillized her very much, although
she was obliged to admit to herself, that she would never be able to
achieve upon the pianoforte the same success as on the harp, upon which
in Germany at least she had not her equal. I moreover promised her,
that in order to give her performances the charm of novelty, I would
write some brilliant concert themes, and as it was very important for
me to try my hand also at pianoforte compositions, I immediately set
to work and finished before leaving London the first subject of the
piano-quintet Op. 52. In order to remove the harp wholly from her
sight, I sent it to Mr. _Erard_. When I informed him that my wife was
compelled to abandon the harp entirely on account of the weak state of
her health, he took it back very willingly, and refused a compensation
for the use made of it up to that time. In a most gallant manner he
said, the instrument had now acquired a real value, from having been
played upon by so celebrated an artiste, and that too at her last
public performance.

I now again took daily walks into the country with my wife and had soon
the pleasure of seeing that she was gradually recovering her strength.
The thought that she would soon see her children again contributed no
doubt in a very great measure towards this improvement. I also longed
to be home again with my family, and immediately the last Philharmonic
concert was over, I made preparations for leaving.

I must here by way of appendix speak of the musical institution of
Mr. _Logier_, which I visited several times with great interest,
and respecting which I sent the following report to the Leipsic
Musical Journal of August 1820: “Mr. _Logier_, a German by birth, but
resident for the last fifteen years in England, gives instruction in
pianoforte-play and in harmony upon a method of his own invention,
in which he permits all the children, frequently as many as thirty
or forty, to play at the same time. For this purpose he has written
three volumes of studies, which are all grounded upon perfectly simple
themes, and progress by degrees to the most difficult ones. While
beginners play the theme, the more advanced pupils practise themselves
at the same time in more or less difficult variations: one might
imagine that from this manner of proceeding great confusion must ensue,
out of which the teacher would be able to distinguish very little;
but as the children who play these studies, sit near each other, one
hears, according to whichever part of the room one may be in, either
one or the other of the studies very distinctly. The teacher also
frequently makes half of the pupils, at times all but one, cease
playing, in order to ascertain their progress individually. In the last
lessons he makes use of his chiroplast, a machine by means of which
the children get accustomed to a good position of the arms and hands,
and which so soon as they have progressed so far as to know the notes
and keys, is removed first from one hand and then from the other, and
then for the first time they put their fingers to the keys and learn
to play scales; but all this, in the respective studies, with all the
children at once, and always in the strictest time. When they have then
progressed to a new lesson they do not of course succeed in bringing
out more than a few notes of each bar, in the quick movement which they
hear being played near or around them; but they soon overcome more and
more of them, and in a shorter time than might well be believed, the
new lesson is played as well as the previous one. But what is most
remarkable in Mr. _Logier’s_ method of teaching is, that, with the
very first lessons in pianoforte playing he teaches his pupils harmony
at the same time. How he does this, I do not know; and that is his
secret, for which each of the teachers in England who give instruction
on his system pay him one hundred guineas. The results of this method
with his pupils are nevertheless wonderful; for children between the
ages of seven and ten years solve the most difficult problems. I wrote
down on the board a triad, and denoted the key in which they were to
modulate it: one of the littlest girls immediately ran to the board,
and after very little reflection wrote first the bass, and then the
upper notes. I frequently repeated this test, and indeed with the
addition of all manners of difficulties: I extended it to the most
divergent keys in which enharmonic changes were required, yet they
never became embarrassed. If one could not succeed, another immediately
came forward, whose bass perhaps was corrected by a third; and for
everything they did they were obliged to assign the reason to the
teacher. At length I wrote upon the table a simple treble--the first
that came into my head--and told each of them to put the other three
voices to it, each upon her own slate. At the same time I said to them
that the solution of the theme which the teacher and I should consider
the best, I would inscribe in my musical album as a souvenir of their
performance. All were now full of life and activity, and in a few
minutes one of the littlest of the girls, who had already distinguished
herself by her play and in working out the first problems, brought me
her slate to inspect, but in her haste she had omitted an octave in
the third bar between the bass and one of the middle voices. No sooner
had I pointed it out to her, than blushing and with tears in her eyes
she took back the slate and rapidly corrected her error. As in her
performance the bass was indisputably the best of all, the teacher
wrote it in my album, and I subjoin it here with diplomatic accuracy.

[Music]

The resolutions of the other children were more or less good, but
all of them correct, and mostly written out in four different keys.
Each also played her own immediately without any embarrassment on the
pianoforte and without “fault,” &c.”

Upon my announcing our approaching departure to my old _Johanning_,
tears came into the eyes of the kind and affectionate old man. He had
become so fond of us that he would have even refused all remuneration
for the services he had rendered us, and positively objected to take
the sum I had reserved for him. But upon my insisting on his taking
it he complied, on the condition that I would not refuse him a favour
he wished to ask of me. I asked him what it was, and he did not keep
me long in suspense, but stammered out in an embarrassed manner the
request that I and my wife would do him the honour to take our dinner,
the day before our departure, at his house. When we consented thereto
without hesitation, his whole countenance immediately brightened up,
and he could not find words to express sufficiently his gratitude.
On the appointed day he made his appearance dressed as I had never
yet seen him, in a full-dress suit of his deceased master’s, with
hair powdered, and in white silk stockings, and at our door stood a
hackney carriage for four persons, which was to take us to his country
house, and in which a musician whom he had also invited, and whose
acquaintance we had already made, and who was the most intimate friend
of his late master, was already seated. When we had got in, _Johanning_
refused to take the fourth seat, saying that it would be unbecoming of
him to do so, although I pointed out to him that he was now no longer
my servant, but for this day my host and entertainer. But he was not
to be persuaded, and took his usual place by the side of the coachman.
On the way there our companion related to us many particulars highly
creditable to _Johanning_--how he had shewn the most ardent attachment
and fidelity to his master, and after his death had applied the greater
part of the money he had left him, to the erection of a memorial to
his master in Westminster Abbey, so that we felt penetrated with the
highest respect for our recent servant. Upon our arrival he opened
the carriage door and led us into his house. The property consisted
of a small house with a small garden attached, and everywhere the
greatest neatness and cleanliness. He led the way up one flight of
stairs to his reception room, and did not fail to show us immediately
the bell-pull near the mantle-piece, to which he forthwith gave a tug,
although he kept no servant whom he could summon with it, since he
and his wife were their own servants. We then took a turn through the
little garden and then entered the parlour, where the table was laid
for three persons. _Johanning_ again refused to take a seat near us at
table, and this time for the cogent reason that we should then have
had no one to wait upon us. Upon this he brought up the dinner and as
master of the house waited upon his guests, during which occupation
his whole countenance wore an expression of the greatest pleasure. The
dinner was exceedingly well dressed and served up on an elegant china
dinner-service which had belonged to his master, and the excellent
Rhenish wine which he placed before us was no doubt derived also from
the same source. The dessert, strawberries and cherries, was the
produce of his little garden, and this he did not fail to announce
to his guests.--When dinner was over he led the way once more to his
drawing-room, where we found Mrs. _Johanning_, who till then had been
engaged in the kitchen in dressing and sending up the dinner, in full
Sunday attire. There at length, though only after repeated pressing,
the worthy old couple allowed themselves to be persuaded to take seats
at the table, on which coffee had already been placed. _Johanning_
was now in the height of happiness, and interpreted with no little
satisfaction to his wife the praises which we had expressed and still
reiterated of the admirable manner in which we had been entertained.
Towards evening the coach again drove up to the door to take us back
to town. But _Johanning_ could not be deterred from resuming his old
place by the side of the coachman, to accompany us home, and open
the carriage door. In fact, even on the next morning he presented
himself again, in order to be of assistance at our departure. At the
coach-office we found also several friends and acquaintance waiting to
bid us farewell.

       *       *       *       *       *

We returned again by way of Dover and Calais, in order to take our own
carriage which we had left at Lille. Our passage across this time was a
very calm one and the weather fine, so that not any of the passengers
were sea-sick. Between Calais and Lille the diligence stopped at a so
charming place to dine that even now, after so long a time, I recollect
it with a feeling of pleasure. It was at the small town of Cassel,
which is situated upon a high isolated conical hill that rises in the
midst of an extensive plain. The weather being fine, dinner had been
laid for the travellers in the garden of the inn under a bower of
vines, and during the repast, from this pleasant, cool situation we
enjoyed an extensive view over the beautiful country round. In Lille we
again spent some pleasant days in the society of the _Vogel_ family and
other of our friends there, and then without longer stay set out in our
own carriage upon our further journey.

As a natural consequence of the painful ordeal of grief through
which my parents had passed on our account, and after the first long
separation from our children, our reception this time in Gandersheim
was beyond measure one of heartfelt joy, and after our protracted
exertions and fatigue we now indeed felt once more happy and freed
from care in the calm repose of the country. This was just the time
for me to set myself to new labours, and I there first completed
the quintet for pianoforte, flute, clarinet, horn and double-bass
which I had begun in London, and in which I proposed that my wife
should make her appearance in the world of art as a pianiste on our
projected winter tour. Indeed, it was high time to occupy her in its
artistic study; for as she now felt quite re-established in health,
she had the greatest desire to resume her harp. With the assistance
of the new quintet, however, and supported by the medical counsel of
my father, I soon succeeded in dissuading her from it. She therefore
devoted her attention to the pianoforte with the greatest zeal, and
in a short time had the gratification of finding she had reacquired
her former technical skill upon that instrument. After the lapse of a
few weeks she succeeded therefore in executing the new and difficult
concert-piece to her and my satisfaction.

About this time we had a visit from two musical Hamburg friends,
Messrs. _Fritz Schwenke_ and _Wilhelm Grund_, the latter of whom
brought his younger brother _Edward_ with him, who was already a good
violinist, to become my pupil. With the assistance of these three I now
gave our musical friends of Gandersheim a quartet-party such as they
had never heard before nor have since. In order to have my new quintet
heard upon this occasion also, I quickly rewrote the accompaniment of
the four wind-instruments, for a stringed-quartet, and in this shape
was highly pleased with its effect, as also with the brilliant play
of my wife. From the great success this had met with, she felt much
encouraged in her new studies and consoled in some measure for her
relinquishment of the harp. To provide her still with new materials for
practice, I rewrote also two former harp-compositions for the piano, a
pot-pourri and a rondo with violin, which appeared later as Op. 50 and
51. We practised these together also with the greatest care, and they
were destined for performance at private parties on our next winter
tour. After the departure of the Hamburg visitors I commenced the
instruction of my new pupil. By his talent and amiability he soon won
the esteem of the whole _Spohr_ family, from the old grandfather down
to little _Theresa_, whom he always called in pure Hamburg dialect: “Du
säute Deren.” As he played well on the piano, he undertook the musical
instruction of _Emilia_ and _Ida_, and young as he was, he knew how to
keep them assiduous to their studies. Himself as violinist he soon made
so much progress, that I practised him in and played with him the three
extremely difficult violin-duets which I wrote in Switzerland (Op. 39)
and for which I had never yet been able to meet with a fellow-player.
By the accurate, pure and spirited execution of this almost always
four-voiced duets we made a great sensation, and musical amateurs
from the whole country round came to hear us play them. We played one
of them also with great success at a concert in Hildesheim, given
there by the director of music _Bischoff_, the same who undertook the
Frankenhaus musical festivals. Towards autumn, just as I had begun to
compose a new violin concerto (the 9th. D-minor. Op. 55, published by
_André_ of Offenbach) for the winter journey, I received an invitation
from music-director _Rose_ in Quedlinburg to conduct a musical festival
which he was about to hold there. I very gladly accepted it, and made
all haste to complete my concerto so as to be able to perform it there
for the first time. While practising it I received great assistance
from _Edward Grund_, who was able to accompany through the score on
the piano, an assistance, which I had never before experienced.

The musical festival took place on the 13th. and 14th. October
1820, and went off to the full satisfaction of the originator and
the numerous auditory. Upon my proposition, _Schneider’s_ “Last
Judgement” was given on the first day, at which the composer himself
was present. On the second day, among other things my London symphony
was performed, and, as well as my new violin concerto, was received
with great approbation. I met in Quedlinburg many of my former friends
and acquaintances from Sondershausen, Gotha, Leipzig, Magdeburg,
Halberstadt and Brunswick, and passed several delightful days with
them. After our return from this pleasant excursion, upon which my
parents and _Edward Grund_, as well as my wife, had accompained me, it
became full time to set out upon our winter tour, the terminus of which
was to be Paris. A new parting from the children, my parents, and the
pleasant society of Gandersheim, was therefore necessary; and _Edward
Grund_ returned to Hamburg with the intention of coming again in the
spring to prosecute his studies under my guidance.

We took Frankfort, Heidelberg, Carlsruhe and Strasburg on our way to
Paris, and gave concerts in all those towns. In Frankfort, where we
lived in the house of my friend _Speyer_, we still found a lively
remembrance of our artistic talents; our concert in the salon of
the “_Weidenbusch_” was crowded to overflowing, although the room
could easily accommodate eight hundred persons. My new violin
concerto, excellently accompanied, made a great sensation; Councillor
_André_ himself, who previously had always some fault to find with
my compositions, seemed quite satisfied with my new work; for he
repeatedly requested me, after the rehearsal even, to let him have the
publishing of it. Although I declined this most positively, as I was
bound by a promise to my then publisher _Peters_ of Leipsic, to let him
have all my new manuscripts, yet in the evening at the concert _André_
again pressed me, and so pertinaciously, that to get rid of him, and to
prepare quietly for my solo-play, I at last called out to him “Yes.”
This precipitancy however cost me dear, for although I immediately
informed _Peters_ of all the circumstances, in order to exculpate
myself with him, I was compelled to endure many bitter reproaches
for my excessive pliancy towards Mr. _André_. The new piano quintet
with wind-instrument accompaniment, which was now also performed, made
likewise a great sensation, and _Dorette’s_ purity of piano-forte
play, of which until then the friends of music in Frankfort had known
nothing, was greeted with the loudest applause. I was more particularly
pleased with this result, as of all others it was calculated to console
my wife for the abandonment of her harp.

Of the other towns between Frankfort and Paris, and of the concerts
given there I have forgotten everything; I must however advert to the
acquaintance I made of Councillor _Thibaut_ at Heidelberg on this
occasion. That celebrated jurist conducted a choral society that he
had instituted; but excluding all modern church music, he permitted
_ancient_ Italian music only to be sung, of which he had made a rich
and rare collection. Until then I knew nothing more of this music than
what I had heard in the Sixtine chapel at Rome, and was therefore very
thankful to the Councillor for the permission he gave me to be present
at the rehearsals of his society, at which I became better acquainted
with several of those old works, which were carefully practised by
them. _Thibaut’s_ opinion that this music _alone_ represented the
true ecclesiastical style, and surpassed all that had ever been
written since, I cannot coincide with, for to me _Mozart’s_ requiem,
incomplete as it passed from the hands of that master, who died during
its composition, is alone worth more than all I ever heard of earlier
church music; nevertheless, the simple-grandiose style of those works
made then a great impression on me, and I begged permission to study
their scores through. After some hesitation my wish was granted in
such wise that I was permitted to visit _Thibaut’s_ music-room at
particular hours, and to go through the works on the piano, but was
not permitted to take any home with me. I took daily advantage of
this favour, and by that means made myself intimately acquainted with
the vocal method and harmonic sequence of the old masters. While so
engaged I was seized with the desire of trying for once an ecclesiastic
piece _alla Capella_ for several voices, and in the following summer I
carried out my idea at Gandersheim with the composition of the mass for
ten voices, Op. 54. I certainly did not strive to imitate the simple
treble movements of the old masters; but on the contrary I did a good
deal towards carrying out the rich modulation of the later Mozart
method.

Respecting our stay in Paris I published at the time “Four letters to a
Friend” in the Leipsic Musical Journal of 1821, which I here append.

FIRST LETTER.

  _Paris_, December 15. 1820.

I trust, my dear friend, that you will give me credit for writing to
you so soon on the eighth day after our arrival, at a time when so many
novelties crowd upon my notice, that I find it difficult to collect my
thoughts. But for my own sake I must not permit the materials to grow
upon me too much, otherwise I shall be wholly unable to deal with them
in their due order.

With a beating heart I drove through the Barrière of Paris. The
thought, that I should at length have the pleasure of making the
personal acquaintance of the artists whose works had inspired me in
my early childhood, excited the emotion which I then felt. In fancy I
reverted to the days of my boyhood, in which _Cherubini_ was my idol,
whose works I had had an earlier opportunity of becoming acquainted
with in Brunswick, at the then permanent French theatre there, than
even the works of _Mozart_; I vividly recollected the evening when the
“Deux Journées” was performed for the first time--how, intoxicated
with delight and the powerful impression that work had made upon me,
I asked on that very evening to have the score given to me, and sat
over it the whole night; and that it was that opera chiefly that gave
me the first impulse to composition. The author, and many other men
whose works had had the most decided influence on my development as a
composer and violinist, I was now soon to behold.

We had therefore scarcely got under cover, when I made it my first
business to pay a visit to those artists. I was received by all in a
friendly manner, and relations of friendship soon sprang up between me
and several of them.

I was told of _Cherubini_, that he was at first very reserved toward
strangers, repulsive even; I did not find him so. He received me,
without any letter of introduction, in the most friendly manner, and
invited me to repeat my visit as often as I pleased.

On the evening of our arrival _Kreutzer_ took us to the grand opera,
where a ballet of his, with pretty characteristic music: “Le carnaval
de Venise,” was performed. It is observable in the singers and dancers
of the grand opera, that they have been accustomed to move in a more
spacious place; in this one, where the space is much more confined as
compared with the opera house that has been abandoned, they appear in
a much too sharp relief. Several grand operas, those of _Gluck’s_ for
instance, can no longer be represented at all, there being not even
the necessary room for the whole orchestra. For this reason every one
looks forward with hope for the early completion of the new opera
house; but actively as they are working upon it, that will not be ready
before the middle of next summer. Before the ballet the opera: “Le
Devin du village,” the words and music by _Rousseau_, was given. Is it
a subject for praise or blame, that the French, notwithstanding the
many excellent things with which their operatic repertoire has been
enriched during the last twenty years, still give the oldest things
of all? And is it indeed a proof of an advanced cultivated taste for
art, when one sees them give as enthusiastic a reception (if not more
so) to the oldest operas of _Grétry_ with their poverty of harmony and
incorrectness, as to the master pieces of _Cherubini_ and _Méhul_? I
think not! How long have not the operas of _Hiller_ and _Dittersdorf_
and others of those days, disappeared from our repertoire, although
these are far to be preferred for their real musical worth to the
greater part of _Grétry’s_. But on the other hand it is certainly very
discouraging, that with us the new only, however poor and defective,
finds a ready reception, and many excellent things of older date are
set aside for them and forgotten. Nevertheless it must be said to the
honour of the taste for art of the Germans, that _Mozart’s_ operas at
least are the exception, and for the last thirty years have constantly
been produced in all the theatres of Germany, which is a proof that the
German people are at length impressed with the inimitable perfection of
those master-pieces, and are not to be deceived on this head, however
extensively the sweet musical poison may spread which flows in upon us
so profusely from beyond the Alps.

The orchestra of the grand opera, as compared with the other
orchestras, reckons among its members the most celebrated and
distinguished artistes, but in _ensemble_ is said to be behind the
Italian opera. I cannot yet judge how far that may be correct, as I
have only heard the latter as yet. In _Kreutzer’s_ ballet, which was
played by the orchestra with the greatest precision, I was greatly
pleased with a hautboy solo, which was executed in a masterly manner
by Mr. _Voigt_. This artist has succeeded in giving to his instrument
a perfect uniformity of tone and intonation throughout the whole range
from _C_ to the high _F_, an accomplishment which almost all hautboy
players have failed in attaining. His execution is moreover full of
grace and good taste.

For some days past I have been less edified at the grand opera than
I was the first time. “Les mystères d’Isis” was performed. Too well
indeed are justified the complaints of the admirers of _Mozart_ of
the disfigurement of the beautiful “Zauberflöte” in this piece
of workmanship, which the French themselves re-christened on its
appearance “Les Misères d’ici”! One must blush that it should have
been Germans, who so sinned against the immortal master. Everything
but the overture has been meddled with; all else has been thrown into
confusion, been changed and mutilated. The opera begins with the
concluding chorus of the Zauberflöte; then comes the march in Titus,
and then in succession some fragmentary piece from other operas of
_Mozart_, and even a little bit of a symphony of _Haydn_; then between
these recitatives of Mr. _Lachnitz’_ own manufacture. But worse than
all this is, that the transposers have applied a serious text to many
cheerful and even comic passages of the Zauberflöte, by which the music
of those passages becomes a parody of the text and of the situation. In
this manner, for instance, Papagena sings the characteristic air of the
Moor: “Alles fühlt der Liebe Freuden,” &c.; and the pretty terzet of
the three boys: “Seid uns zum zweitenmal willkommen,” &c., is sung by
the three ladies. Of the duet: “Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen,” &c.,
a terzet has been made, and so on. Worse than all, however, they have
taken the liberty of making alterations in the score: for example, in
the air: “In diesen heil’gen Hallen,” at the words: “So wandelt er an
Freundes Hand,” the imitating bass

[Music]

is entirely left out, which is here indispensably necessary, not
alone to the harmony, but because it expresses the act of wandering
in so characteristic a manner, and the bass sound the _B_ only a few
times instead. You may therefore readily imagine how insipid and
meagre this passage now sounds, which in Germany is so frequently
admired. Moreover, in the terzet of the three females, where _Mozart_
strengthens and supports the third voice with the violins only, the
transposers have added both violoncello and double-bass; so that at
these tender passages, which are for three voices only, the bass lies
in three different octaves, which to a cultivated ear is unbearable.
Similar offences are of frequent occurrence. We must nevertheless do
the French the justice to say, that they have always highly disapproved
of this vandalic mutilation of a great master-piece (the extent of
which from their ignorance of the original is yet not known to them);
but how is it, that the “_Mystères_” have nevertheless kept their
place undisturbed in the repertoire for the last eighteen or twenty
years?--and here where the public moreover, as I see every day, rule so
despotically in the theatre, and manage to have everything their own
way!--

To me, as a German, the performance was not satisfactory. Even the
overture was not executed so well as it should have been by so
excellent a union of first-rate musicians. It was taken too quick, and
still more hurried at the close, so that the violins instead of playing
semiquavers could only play quavers. The singers of the grand opera,
whose great merits may perhaps lie in declamatory song, are little
qualified to render the soft airs of the Zauberflöte in a satisfactory
manner. They sing them with a blunt roughness that deprives them of
all tenderness. The getting-up in scenery, dresses and dancing is
respectable, but not so handsome as I had expected.--Yesterday we went
for the first time to the grand opera, and saw “Clari,” a grand ballet
in three acts, the music by _Kreutzer_. Little as I like ballets, and
little, in my opinion as pantomime merits the aid of the resources of
art, as these are lavished on it here, I nevertheless do not deny that
the Parisian ballet may sometimes afford agreeable amusement, until
one becomes wearied with the monotony of the mimic movements, and of
the yet greater sameness of the dances. But with all the perfection
with which it is given here, pantomime, from the poverty of its
signs, which always require a printed explanation of their meaning,
is, as compared to recitative drama, a mere outline by the side of a
finished drawing. However it may be embellished with golden ornament
and decorated surroundings, as is the ballet here by magnificence of
costume and decorations, it gives the outline only, and the life is
wanting. In the same manner I may compare the drama to the opera--as
a drawing by the side of the painting. From song, the poem receives
its first colouring, and by it only, and the powerful aid of harmony,
does it succeed in giving expression to the indefinable and merely
imagined emotions of the soul which language must be content alone to
hint at. The music to “Clari” is a great success, and in the second and
third act especially the effect is most captivating. It facilitates
greatly the comprehension of the subject by a correct delineation of
the passions, and contains a treasury of pretty melodies which one
regrets do not form part of an opera. Mademoiselle _Bigottini_ played
the chief character, and evinced a deep study of mime and action in her
play. That in very impassioned situations she carried the expression
of her features to the borders of grimace, may perhaps be imputed to
the circumstance that hitherto she has always appeared in a spacious
place, where on account of the distance it was requisite to give strong
play to the features. Perhaps as a German this is my fancy only, for
the applause was never more tumultuous than when (to my feeling) she
overstepped the bounds of the beautiful and graceful.

Before the ballet, the one-act opera “Le rossignol” was given; from
which _Weigl_ took the subject of his German opera of “Nachtigall und
Rabe.” The music of the French opera is of no account, and interested
me only through the masterly execution of a flauto-solo by Mr. Tulou.
It is impossible to hear a finer tone than that Mr. Tulou draws from
his instrument. Since I heard him, it appears to me no longer so
inappropriate, when our poets compare the pleasing sound of a fine
voice to the tones of a flute.

SECOND LETTER.

  _Paris_, December 31. 1820.

Since the despatch of my first letter, a fortnight has elapsed,
replete with enjoyment, and since then we have both seen and heard
much that is beautiful; but for the present I must content myself
with writing to you upon that which most nearly concerns my art.
I have now made my appearance before musicians and dilettanti,
connoisseurs and a lay public, as violinist and composer, first at
Mr. _Baudiot’s_, primo violoncellist of the royal orchestra, on the
day after at _Kreutzer’s_, and since then at three private parties.
At the soirées of the two first the company consisted almost wholly
of musicians; at _Kreutzer’s_, in particular, almost all the first
composers and violinists of Paris were present. I gave several of my
quartets and quintets, and on the second day my nonet. The composers
present expressed themselves to me in very laudatory terms upon the
composition, and the violinists upon my play. Of the latter, _Viotti_,
both the _Kreutzers_, _Baillot_, _Lafont_, _Habeneck_, _Fontaine_,
_Guerin_, and several others whose names are not so well known in
Germany, were present; and you may imagine that it was then highly
necessary that I should collect my faculties, to do credit to my
countrymen. The wind-instrument parts in my nonet were played by the
five artists of whose masterly execution of _Reicha’s_ quintets you
will have so frequently read in accounts from Paris. I had the pleasure
of hearing them play two of those quintets, but shall reserve to myself
all detailed observations thereon till I shall have heard some more
of them. At the request of all the musicians present my nonet was
played again the same evening; and if the readiness with which the
assistant players read _à prima vista_ that difficult piece of music
had surprised me, I was still more gratified, upon its repetition, by
the manner in which they now entered into the spirit of the composition
and re-executed it.

The young pianist _Herz_, of whom you have also doubtless read in
the Parisian musical miscellanies, played twice on that evening, at
first his own variations on the theme from the “Schweizerfamilie,”
and then _Moscheles’_ well-known variations on Alexander’s march.
The extraordinary execution of this young man is the astonishment
of everybody; but with him, as with all the young artists here whom
I have yet heard, it seems to me that his technical cultivation is
in advance of that of his mind; otherwise, in a company composed of
artists only, he would surely have given something different and more
intellectual than the break-neck tricks of art he exhibited. But it
is very singular, how all here, young and old, strive only to shine
by mechanical execution, and individuals in whom perhaps the germ of
something better lies, devote whole years and every energy to the
study and practice of one single piece of music, frequently of the
most worthless kind, in order to create a sensation with it before the
public. That the mind remains torpid under such circumstances and that
such people never become much better than musical automatons may be
readily imagined.

Hence one seldom or never hears in the musical réunions here an
earnest, well-digested piece of music, such as a quartet or quintet of
our great masters; every one produces his show-piece; you hear nothing
but _airs variés_, _rondos favoris_, _nocturnes_, and the like trifles,
and from the singers romances and little duets; and however incorrect
and insipid all this may be, it never fails to produce an effect,
if it is executed right smoothly and sweetly. Poor in such pretty
trifles, with my earnest German music I am ill at ease in such musical
parties, and feel frequently like a man who speaks to people who do
not understand his language; for when the praise of any such auditors
extends even sometimes from my play to the composition itself, I cannot
feel gratified by it, since immediately afterwards he bestows the same
admiration upon the most trifling things. One blushes to be praised by
such connoisseurs. It is just the same at the theatres: the masses, the
leaders of the fashion here, know not positively how to distinguish the
worst from the best; they hear “_Le Jugement de Midas_” with the same
rapture that they hear “_Les deux Journées_” or “_Joseph_.” It requires
no long residence here, to adopt the frequently expressed opinion, that
the French are not a musical nation.

The artists themselves here are of this opinion, and frequently reply,
when I speak of Germany in this respect: “Yes, music is loved and
understood there, but not here.” In this manner may be explained how
good music wedded to a wretched theatrical piece, falls to the ground,
and wretched music united to a good _pièce de théâtre_, may be highly
successful.

This has deprived me of all desire to write for any of the theatres
here, as I had previously much wished to do; for apart from the fact
that I should have to begin _de novo_, like a young composer--since,
with the exception of some of my violin pieces, they know little or
nothing of my compositions--and further that I should have to work my
way through a thousand cabals, which would rise up against me as a
foreigner with fearful violence before I could get my work performed,
so that at the end I should find, although I might have written good
music, its success would be uncertain, as that depends, as I have
said, almost wholly on the theatrical piece. This may be seen from the
notices in the journals here upon recent operas, in which whole columns
are devoted to a critique of the text, and the music is dismissed with
a passing notice of a few words only.

Were it not so lucrative to write for the theatres in Paris, there
would have been long since no good composer willing to do so. But from
the considerable gain which a successful opera brings in during one’s
whole life-time, new works are produced almost every day; authors and
composers turn their mind constantly to the creation of new effects,
but do not neglect at the same time, to ply the public for months
together in the journals, and provide the necessary number of paid
_claqueurs_ in the pit on the evening of the performance, in order to
ensure a brilliant reception for their work and thereby an ultimate
rich harvest from its frequent repetition. If only half as much were
to be gained by an opera in Germany, we should soon be equally rich in
good composers for the theatre as we now are in instrumental composers,
and we should have no further need to introduce foreign pieces upon our
stage, for the most part unworthy of the artistic culture of Germans.

After a residence of now three weeks it may be well imagined that we
have repeatedly visited all the theatres. I am the more pleased at this
as the circle of my acquaintance has become larger, and my engagements
both for the morning and evening have so much increased that for the
next fortnight we shall be able to devote but few evenings to the
theatre.

Of the _Théâtre français_, the Odéon, and the four lesser theatres, I
shall say nothing; as in a musical point of view they offer nothing
worthy of notice. In the two first they give nothing but _entr’actes_,
and in the four others almost nothing else but vaudevilles. That this
last kind of theatrical pieces, which, thanks to Apollo and the muses,
has hitherto been transplanted into no other country, is so much liked
here that four theatres give almost nothing else, is the most striking
proof that the French are not musical; for the sacred art cannot be
more abused anywhere than in these kind of songs, which are neither
sung nor spoken, but rattled out in intervals, and which are in most
striking anomaly with the melodies, and the accompanying harmony. All
Frenchmen of taste are agreed that the vaudeville, which formerly was
given in one theatre only, has by its increase deteriorated more and
more the taste for true music, and therefore had a prejudicial effect
upon art here. We have been to each of these theatres once, to hear
the celebrated comedians _Brunet_, _Pothier_ and _Perlet_, but are not
likely to go a second time, for the enjoyment one derives from the wit
and inexhaustible humour of those performers is too dearly purchased
by hearing such wretched music. I was particularly struck by the
skill with which the orchestra in those theatres follow the singers,
who do not in the least adhere to the time, or the notes. But this is,
also, their chief merit, for in other respects they are but middling
musicians.

We have been frequently to the Italian opera, and much enjoyed
ourselves there. Last evening we saw “Don Juan” there, at last, after
it had been frequently announced. The house was again, as upon the
previous performances, filled to overflowing, and hundreds of people
could find no room, even half an hour before the curtain drew up. I
was disposed to believe that the Parisians had at length understood
the classical beauty of this work, and that they flocked always in
greater numbers to enjoy it; but I soon relinquished that opinion when
I saw that the finest parts of the opera--the first duet, the quartet,
the grand septet, and several other things--passed off without making
any impression upon them, and two subjects only received a storm of
applause, which was given rather to the singers than to the composer.

These two subjects, which were each respectively encored, were the
duet between Don Juan and Zerline: “Reich mir die Hand mein Leben”
etc., and the air of Don Juan: “Treibt der Champagner” etc.; the
first, because Signor _Garcia_, not having depth of voice sufficient,
transposes it to B flat, and the last even a whole tone higher, to
_C_. Madame _Fodor-Mainville_, who well knew that the song-pieces
of Zerlina would please the Parisians more than all the rest of the
opera, chose very wisely that part, and the result shewed that she had
calculated rightly. What would she care, were the characters of the
opera wholly transposed, so long as she meets with a storm of applause.
The real connoisseur can only consent to this when he dismisses from
his mind that she personates the role of a peasant girl, and when he
wholly sets aside the true intention of the subject represented; for
she decorates the simple songs of her part with a number of high-flown
embellishments which, splendidly though she may execute them, are
here wholly out of place; first because they do not at all belong to
_Mozart’s_ music, and secondly, because they are wholly incompatible
with the character. With deduction of this, it certainly affords an
unusual enjoyment to hear this part, which in Germany is usually played
by a third-rate singer, impersonated by a first-rate one, and so
distinguished a vocalist. Signor _Garcia_, as Don Juan, uses also too
much ornamentation. Where this is only moderately admissable, he comes
out with a _fioritura_ a yard long; and these are most out of place in
the serenade, where the supposed mandoline accompaniment forbids the
most simple ornament. Nevertheless he gives full latitude in it to his
fancy, and in order to do this more conveniently, he takes the tempo
very slow. On the other hand, however, he sings his song incomparably
“Treibt der Champagner” etc., and I acknowledge that I never heard that
air so well sung. The pliability of the Italian tongue is of great use
to him in this, and instead of losing his breath in it, as is usual
with our German singers, his vocal power increases to the end.

The other parts are sung more or less well, but none of them badly, and
one must gratefully acknowledge that each does his best to do honour
to the work. One may also be very satisfied with the performance,
when one loses sight of the claims one is justified in making upon so
celebrated a combination of artists. But to a German it soon becomes
very evident that these singers, who execute Italian music only, and
that of _Rossini_ especially, in the highest perfection, cannot give
the music of _Mozart_ with the same excellence; the difference of style
is far too great. The effeminate, sweet execution which accords so well
with the former, obliterates too much the energetic character which
distinguishes Don Juan above all other of _Mozart’s_ operas.

The orchestra, which the Parisians always pronounce the first in the
world, made some mistakes. Twice for instance the wind instruments were
very obviously at fault, and they wavered several times so much, that
the conductor was obliged to beat the time for them. I became confirmed
but the more strongly in my opinion, that a theatrical orchestra,
however excellent it may be, on account of the great distance of the
extreme ends, should not be conducted otherwise than by a continual
beating of the time, and, that to mark the time constantly by motions
of the body, and the violin, like Mr. _Grasset_ does, is of no use. In
other respects this orchestra is justly famed for the discretion with
which it accompanies the singer, and in that might serve as a model for
the other Parisian as well as many German orchestras.

The choruses are also excellent, and the effect particularly powerful
and grand at the concluding allegro of the first finale. But why
here, as well as almost everywhere else, is this allegro taken so
unreasonably quick? Do then the conductors wholly forget, that by so
doing they decrease instead of increasing the power, and that the
triplet movement of the violins which must first give life and motion
to the whole, cannot be brought out clearly and forcibly in a movement
of such exaggerated rapidity, and instead of hearing the living whole,
it becomes a mere skeleton sketch without fillings in?!

When one hears so beautiful a piece of music lose its effect by
incorrectness of time, one wishes again that the marking of the tempi
was finally and universally established either on _Mälzel’s_ or
_Weber’s_ method, or still better upon both at the same time. But then
of course orchestral conductors must follow them conscientiously, and
not as now, follow their own fancy merely.

THIRD LETTER.

  _Paris_, January 12. 1821.

With a mind greatly relieved, I write to announce to you, my dear
friend, that I have made my public début and with success. It is always
a hazardous undertaking for a foreign violinist to make a public
appearance in Paris, as the Parisians are possessed with the notion
that they have the finest violinists in the world, and consider it
almost in the light of arrogant presumption when a foreign considers
he has talent sufficient to challenge a comparison with them.

I may therefore well be a little proud of the brilliant reception I
met with the day before yesterday, and the more so that, with the
exception of a dozen persons, the auditory was personally unknown to
me, and there were none among them who had been admitted with free
tickets in purchase of their service as _claqueurs_. But I had prepared
myself very carefully for the occasion, and was properly supported by
the careful accompaniment of Mr. _Habeneck_. I was, however, not in
the least nervous, which is sometimes the case with me when I appear
for the first time in a strange country, and which occurred to me
the year before in London. The reason why I did not feel so in this
instance, was doubtless, that here I had already played before all
the most distinguished musicians, previous to my appearing in public;
but in London eight days only after our arrival, without having been
previously heard by any person, I was constrained to appear at the
philharmonic concert.

Before I enter into any details of the concert, I must first relate
how I came to give it. It is at all times a tedious business to make
arrangements for a concert in any town, but in Paris, which is so
extensive, where so many theatres are daily open, where there is so
much competition and so many obstacles to overcome, it is indeed a
Herculean task. I think also that this is the reason why so many
artists who come to Paris, decline giving a public concert, which,
besides being attended with the enormous expense of nearly 3000 francs,
is always an undertaking of great risk. If these matters have been
extremely unpleasant to me in other places, you may readily imagine how
I feared to attempt them here. In order to get over the difficulty, I
bethought myself of making a proposition to the directors of the grand
opera, to divide with me the expenses and the receipts of an evening
entertainment of which the first half should consist of a concert and
the second of a ballet. Contrary to the expectation of all those to
whom I had spoken on the subject, this proposition was acceded to.

The consent of the minister was however so long delayed, that the
concert could not be announced till three days before it took place,
and although the house was well filled, yet I ascribe to this delay
that it was not so crowded as I had expected so novel and, from
its novelty, so attractive an arrangement would have been for the
Parisians. The half which came to my share, after deduction of the
expenses, was therefore, as you may imagine, not very considerable: but
as I had not calculated upon making much pecuniary gain in Paris, I
do not regret this arrangement at all, as it saved me an immense deal
of trouble, and yet gave me an opportunity of making my appearance
in public. Of my own compositions I gave: the overture to “Alruna,”
the newest violin concerto, and the potpourri on the duet from “Don
Juan.” Between these a cavatine of _Rossini’s_ was sung by Mademoiselle
_Cinte_, and a duet, also of the same master, by Messrs. _Bordogni_
and _Levasseur_. At the rehearsal the overture was repeated three
times, and in the evening therefore, although it did not go off quite
so well as the last time at the rehearsal, the public nevertheless
could not refuse their applause of its execution. In the concerto, as
well as in the potpourri, some of the wind instruments failed twice,
from a negligence in observing the pauses, which seems somewhat usual
with the French, but fortunately it was not much disparaged by it.
The satisfaction of the audience was unmistakably expressed by loud
applause and cries of Bravo! To-day, however, the criticism of the
majority of the journals is not so favourable. I must solve this riddle
for you. Previous to every first appearance in public, whether of a
foreigner or a native, these gentlemen of the press are accustomed
to receive a visit from him, to solicit a favourable judgment, and
to present them most obsequiously with a few free admission tickets.
Foreign artists, to escape these unpleasant visits, sometimes forward
their solicitations in writing only, and the free admissions at the
same time; or, as is of frequent occurrence, induce some family to whom
they have brought letters of introduction, to invite the gentlemen of
the press to dinner, when a more convenient opportunity is offered to
give them to understand what is desirable to have said of them both
before and after the concert. This may perhaps occur now and then in
Germany; but I do not think, that newspaper critics can be anywhere so
venal as here. I have been told that the first artists of the _Théatre
français_, Mlle. _Mars_, and even _Talma_, pay annually considerable
sums to the journals, in order to keep those gentlemen constantly in
good humour, and that the latter, whenever they wish to extricate
themselves from any pecuniary embarrassment, find no method so sure
as to attack some esteemed artist until he submits to a tribute of
money. How the opinions of a press that are so purchasable, are at
all respected, I cannot understand. Suffice however to say, I did not
pay any of these supplicatory visits, for I considered them unworthy
of a German artist, and thought that the worst that could happen
would be, that the journalists would not take any notice at all of my
concert. But as these have each a free pass to every performance at
the grand opera, I found I was mistaken. They all speak of it; some
with unqualified praise, but the majority with a _But_, by which the
praise is more than sufficiently diminished. In all these notices,
however, French vanity speaks with the utmost self-assurance. They all
begin by extolling their own artists, and their artistic culture, above
all other nations; they think that the country that produced Messrs.
_Baillot_, _Lafont_ and _Habeneck_, need envy no other its violinists;
and whenever the play of a foreigner has been received here with
enthusiasm, it is nothing more than a proof of the great hospitality
which the French in particular shew towards foreigners. Apart from
this vanity the notices are very contradictory: The “Quotidienne”
says, for instance: “Mr. _Spohr_ aborde, avec une incroyable audace,
les plus grandes difficultés, et l’on ne sait ce qui étonne le plus,
ou son audace ou la sureté avec laquelle il exécute ces difficultés.”
In the “Journal des Débats,” on the other hand: “Le concert exécuté
par Mr. _Spohr_ n’est point surchargé de difficultés,” etc. These
gentlemen differ also in opinion respecting the merits or demerits
of my compositions. The majority think them good, but without saying
why; but “Le Courier des Spectacles,” which altogether speaks most
disparagingly of me, says: “C’est une espèce de pacotille d’harmonie
et d’enharmonie germaniques que Mr. _Spohr_ apporte, en contrebande,
de je ne sais quelle contrée d’Allemagne.” But _Rossini_ is his man,
of whom he says further on: “Cet Orphée moderne a défrayé de chant le
concert de Mr. _Spohr_, et il lui suffit pour cela de prêter une petite
aria et un petit duo bouffo.” But as a violinist I found more grace
in his eyes; he says for instance: “Mr. _Spohr_ comme exécutant est
un homme de mérite; il a deux qualités rares et précieuses, la pureté
et la justesse,” but then winds up his phrase like a true Frenchman:
“s’il reste quelque temps à Paris, il pourra perfectionner son goût et
retourner ensuite former celui des bons Allemands.” If the good man
only knew what the “bons Allemands” think of the musical taste of the
French?!

This ridiculous vanity in the Parisians is shewn also in their
conversation. When one or other of their musicians plays anything,
they immediately ask: “Well, can you boast of anything like that in
Germany?” Or when they introduce to you one of their distinguished
artists, they do not call him the first in Paris, but at once the
first in the world, although no nation knows less what other countries
possess, than they do, in their--for their vanity’s sake most
fortunate--ignorance.

You are doubtless astonished that I have as yet said nothing of the
music of the royal chapel; but I delayed doing so intentionally,
until I had first heard some of _Cherubini’s_ masses. _Lesueur_ and
_Cherubini_, the two directors of the music of the royal chapel,
assume the duties of their office every three months alternately; our
arrival took place during the time of _Lesueur’s_ directorship, and
_Cherubini’s_ did not begin till the first of January. But the musical
directors of the royal chapel do not conduct the music themselves, and
preside only in their court uniform at the head of the vocal personnel,
without taking any active part in the performance. The director _de
facto_ is _Plantade_; _Kreutzer_ leading player of the first violin,
and _Baillot_ of the second. The orchestra is composed of the first
artists in Paris, the chorus is powerful and good. Every mass is
rehearsed once or twice, and under _Plantade’s_ sure and spirited
direction, every thing goes exceedingly well.

Although previously prepared by Mr. _Sievers’_ account, I was very far
from expecting to hear music here of the style we call church-music
in Germany; yet I was greatly taken by surprise by the brilliant
theatrical style of a mass by _Plantade_, which I heard on my first
visit to the chapel on the 17th of last month. There is not the least
trace of the ecclesiastical style, not a vestige of the canonical
management of the voices, and still less of a fugue. But apart from
this, there were very pretty ideas, and much good instrumentation,
which would be quite in place in a comic opera. The concluding allegro,
probably upon the words: _Dona nobis pacem_ (for I am not certain,
since the French pronounce Latin in a manner very unintelligible to a
German ear) was so completely in the style of the finale to an opera
(like those usually with three or four times increased tempo) that
at the end, forgetting completely where I was, I expected to see the
curtain fall, and to hear the public applaud.

At midnight, on the 24th December, we heard a so-called “_Messe de
minuit_” of _Lesueur’s_ composition. First of all we were obliged to
endure a great trial of our patience, in which during two somewhat
tedious hours, from ten to twelve o’clock, we heard nothing but
psalms, sung off in the most monotonous manner, and interrupted at
intervals with barbarous peals of organ-play. At length, at midnight,
the mass began. Again the same frivolous theatrical style as in that
of _Plantade_, but which at the solemn midnight hour was still more
insufferable. But what most surprised me, particularly from _Lesueur_,
who is reputed here a first-rate harmonist, and was educated, if I am
not mistaken, for a teacher of harmony at the _Conservatoire_, there
was not even a four-part management of the voices! Though at times
it may be effective in an opera, when writing only a two-part vocal
distribution, to let the soprani go in octaves with the tenors, and
the alti with the bass, partly with a view to facilitate the execution
of the generally bad theatrical choruses, and partly to obtain by
that means more material power; yet to me it seems quite barbarous to
introduce this in the church, and I should therefore like to know what
Mr. _Lesueur_, who must certainly be an artist of reflective powers,
means by it. In the place of the offertory, variations by _Nadermann_
for the harp, horn and violoncello were thrust in, executed by the
composer and Mrs. _Dauprat_ and _Baudiot_. You who know, that in
Germany a serious symphony even appeared to me too mundane at this
part, may therefore readily imagine what an unpleasant impression
these frivolous, French variations on the harp must have made upon me
in a mass at midnight; and yet I saw the people present in earnest
prayer. How is it possible for them to feel a religious sentiment with
such trivial music! This must be either a matter of no importance to
them, or they know how to close their ears effectually; otherwise,
like myself, they would of a certainty be reminded of the ballet at
the grand opera, in which those three instruments are heard in a like
manner in the most voluptuous dances. Although the harp in ancient
times was the favorite instrument of a pious king, it should for all
that be banished from the church, because it is wholly unfit for the
severe style which is the only one suitable for that edifice.

But will you believe it, when I assure you that even the worthy master
_Cherubini_ himself, has allowed himself to be led away by this bad
example, and his masses exhibit in many places a theatrical style.
It is true that he makes amends for it in those places with superior
music, full of effect; but who can enjoy it, if he cannot wholly
forget the place in which he hears it?

It would he less regrettable that _Cherubini_ also should deviate
from the true ecclesiastical style, if in some individual parts he
did not shew in what a dignified manner he can move in it. Several
separate subjects in his masses--particularly the scientifically
conducted fugues, and above all his _Pater noster_ up to the profane
conclusion--afford the grandest proofs of this. But when one has once
overcome the inclination to feel annoyed at this frequent, extremely
digressive style, one feels then the highest enjoyment of art. By
richness of invention, well-chosen, and frequently quite novel
sequences of harmony, and a sagacious use of the material resources of
art, directed by the experience of many years, he knows how to produce
such powerful effects, that, carried away by them in spite of oneself,
one soon forgets all pedantic cavil to give oneself wholly up to one’s
feelings, and to enjoyment. What would not this man have contributed
to art, if instead of writing for Frenchmen, he had always written for
Germans!--

FOURTH LETTER.

  _Paris_, January 30. 1821.

The two months which I had allotted to our stay in Paris are drawing to
a close. As I do not know whether circumstances may even permit us to
come here again, we are exerting ourselves to find all the remarkable
things we have not yet seen, and make daily excursions in Paris and
into its environs. In order to devote my time wholly to this, I have
given up the idea I had conceived of giving another soirée before
our departure, and for which I had already made some arrangements.
The fortnight which I should have been obliged to devote solely to
that object, I can now therefore pass more pleasantly, and in greater
freedom. I gave up with much more repugnance my project to give a
second public concert, since, from the reception given to the first,
I had good ground to expect a successful result. But during this month
there was not a day to be found favorable for such a purpose; for on
a week day the administration will not give up the theatre, as there
is either a grand or an Italian opera, and of the three yet remaining
Sundays, the first was too near, the second, as the anniversary of the
death of Louis XVI., not to be had, and the third, already pre-engaged
by Mr. _Lafont_ for a concert. To extend our stay over the middle of
next month, we have no desire, for we are heartily tired of the noisy
life and ceaseless night-disturbance here, and ardently long for a
quiet place of residence.

On the other hand I have latterly played more frequently at private
parties, and seen with pleasure that my compositions, upon every
repetition, have been received with greater enthusiasm, especially by
musicians. This has been particularly the case with a new quintet for
pianoforte, flute, clarinet, horn and bassoon, which I have written
for my wife, and in which, since by the advice of the physician, she
has abandoned the harp, she has appeared several times. The chief
object of my coming here, to make myself personally known to the most
distinguished artists here, and to become more nearly acquainted with
them, I have thus fully effected; and I cannot speak sufficiently in
praise of the sympathy and kindness which the greater part of them have
evinced towards me. They repeatedly endeavoured to persuade me to make
a longer stay, and should I feel disposed to give a second concert,
they would not only take all the trouble of the arrangements for it off
my hands, but promised to get together for me the best orchestra in
Paris, without the cost to me of a single sou. Although I am not likely
to avail myself of this offer, yet it was very gratifying to me.

Another no less important object of my coming here has also been
achieved; I have had opportunities of hearing the most celebrated
violinists of, and at present in Paris. _Baillot_ gave a soirée at his
house for me, at my request; I heard _Lafont_ at his own concert; and
the younger _Kreutzer_ and _Habeneck_ at morning concerts which were
arranged expressly for the purpose. Should you wish to know which of
these four Violinists has best pleased me, then without hesitation, in
point of execution, I say, _Lafont_. In his play he combines beauty
of tone, the greatest purity, power, and grace; and he would be a
perfect violinist, if, with these qualifications, he possessed depth
of feeling, and had not accustomed himself to the habit peculiar to
the French school, of laying too much stress upon the last note of
a phrase. But feeling, without which a man can neither conceive nor
execute a good adagio, appears with him, as with almost all Frenchmen,
to be wholly wanting; for although he dresses up his slow movements
with many elegant and pretty ornaments, yet he still remains somewhat
cold. The adagio appears altogether to be considered here, both by
artists and the public, as the least important part of a concerto, and
is only retained perhaps because it separates both the quick subjects
and increases their effect.

To this indifference for it--as indeed the general insensibility of the
French for everything that works upon the feelings--I ascribe also,
that my adagio and the manner in which I played, made less impression
here than the brilliant allegro subjects. Accustomed to the special
applause which my manner of playing it had received from Germans,
Italians, Dutch, and English, I at first felt hurt to see it thought
so little of by the French. But since I have observed how seldom their
artists give them an earnest adagio, and how little their taste for it
is awakened, I became pacified on that subject. The practice of giving
emphasis to the last note of a period, by an increased pressure and a
rapid upward stroke of the bow, even when that note falls on a part
where the time is bad, is more or less common to all French violinists,
but with none so prominent as _Lafont_. To me it is incomprehensible
how this unnatural accentuation has arisen, which sounds exactly as
though a speaker endeavoured to intonate the short final syllable of
a word with particular force. If when executing a musical piece the
cantabile of the human voice had always been kept in view as model
(which in my opinion should be done by every instrumentalist) such
errors would never have become confirmed habits. But the Parisians are
so accustomed to this unnatural custom, that a foreigner who does not
play in the same bizzarre manner, appears to them much too plain, or,
as Mr. _Sievers_ expresses it, “much too straightforward.”

That _Lafont’s_ excellence restricts itself always to but a few pieces
at once, and that he practises the same concerto by the year together
before he plays it in public, is well known. Since I have heard the
perfect execution which he attains by this means, I certainly will not
cavil with this application of all his powers to the one object; but
I could not imitate him, and cannot even understand how one can bring
one’s-self to practise the same piece of music for four or five hours
daily, but still less how it is to be done without eventually losing
every vestige of real art, in such a mechanical mode of proceeding.

_Baillot_ is, in the technical scope of his play, almost as perfect,
and his diversity of manner, shews that he is so, without resorting
to the same desperate means. Besides his own compositions, he plays
almost all those of ancient and modern times. On one and the same
evening he gave us a quintet of _Bocherini_, a quartet of _Haydn_,
and three of his own compositions--a concerto, an _air varié_, and a
rondo. He played all these things with the most perfect purity, and
with the expression which is peculiar to his manner. His expression,
nevertheless, seemed to me more artificial than natural, and indeed his
whole execution, from the too salient evidence of the means by which he
gives that expression, has the appearance of mannerism. His bow-stroke
is skilful, and rich in shades of expression, but not so free as
_Lafont’s_, and therefore his tone is not so beautiful as that of the
latter, and the mechanical process of the up and down stroke of the bow
is too audible. His compositions are distinguished above almost all
those of any other Parisian violinist by their correctness; neither can
they be denied a certain originality; but being somewhat artificial,
mannered, and out of date in style, the hearer remains cold and without
a sense of emotion. You know that he frequently plays and takes great
pleasure in _Boccherini’s_ quintets. I was desirous of hearing him in
these quintets, with about a dozen of which I am acquainted, in order
to see whether from the manner in which he executes them he could
succeed in making one forget the poverty of the compositions. But well
as they were given by him, the frequent childishness of the melodies,
and the poverty of the harmonies (almost always three-voiced only) were
no less unpleasing to me, than in all those I had heard before. One can
hardly understand how a cultivated artist like _Baillot_, to whom our
treasures in compositions of this kind are known, can bring himself
to play those quintets still, whose worth consists only in the regard
had to the period and circumstances under which they were written. But
that they are here listened to with as much pleasure as a quintet of
_Mozart_, is another proof that Parisians cannot distinguish the good
from the bad, and are at least half a century behind in art.

I heard _Habeneck_ play two _airs variés_ of his composition. He is a
brilliant violinist and plays much with great rapidity and ease. His
tone and his bow-stroke are somewhat coarse.

_Kreutzer_ junior, the brother and pupil of the elder, played to me a
new, very brilliant and graceful trio of his brother’s composition. The
manner in which he executed it reminded me somewhat of the style of the
elder one, and satisfied me that they are the purest players of all the
Parisian violinists. Young _Kreutzer_ is wanting in physical power,
he is somewhat ill, and dare not play sometimes for months together.
His tone therefore is weak, but in other respects his play is pure,
spirited and full of expression.

Two days ago I heard two more quite new quintets of _Reicha_, which he
wrote for the morning-concerts of the five previously named artists.
They were played at a rehearsal, which appears to me to have been
given solely for the purpose of fishing for more subscribers to the
morning-concerts, among the numerous persons who were invited. At
least a list of them was handed round. It is sad to see what means
artists here are obliged to resort to, in order to procure support
for their undertakings. While the Parisians press eagerly forward to
every sensual enjoyment, they must be almost dragged to intellectual
ones.--I found the composition of these two new quintets, like those I
had previously heard at _Kreutzer’s_, rich in interesting sequences of
harmony, correct throughout in the management of the voices, and full
of effect in the use made of the tone and character of the different
wind-instruments, but on the other hand, frequently defective in the
form. Mr. _Reicha_ is not economical enough of his ideas, and at the
very commencement of his pieces he frequently gives from four to five
themes, each of which concludes in the tonic. Were he less rich, he
would be richer. His periods also are frequently badly connected and
sound as though he had written one yesterday and the other to-day.
Yet the minuets and scherzi, as short pieces, are less open to
this objection, and some of them are real masterpieces in form and
contents. A German soundness of science and capacity are the greatest
ornaments of this master. The execution in the rapid subjects was again
wonderfully correct, but somewhat less so in the slow ones.

I do not think I have yet spoken to you of the _Feydeau_. We have been
less frequently to that theatre than to the other operatic theatres,
because it so happened that on those evenings when we were at liberty
pieces were generally performed that did not much interest us. Yet we
were present at the first representation of _Méhul’s_ “Joseph,” which,
after a long repose was again put on the stage. The public however,
did not seem very grateful for this to the directors of the theatre,
for they gave it but a cold reception. In support of my assertion
that the French take an interest only in the piece, and know little
how to appreciate the excellence of the music, I may adduce, that
the tirades in the dialogue were far more applauded than the song
parts. The singers succeeded in obtaining applause only when, in the
superabundance of an artificial feeling, instead of singing, they began
to sob. At the pieces of the opera--for instance, at the first chorus
of the brothers--there was not a hand stirred. Many of the tempi were
taken quite different from those in Germany, but not to the advantage
of the music; for instance, the fine morning-hymn of the Israelites,
behind the scenes, was taken so quick, that it lost all its solemnity.
A screaming violin, also, that supported the soprani was far too
prematurely loud. The orchestra played well, and was particularly
remarkable for a delicate _piano_.

_Moscheles_ has been here a month. He makes a great sensation with his
extremely brilliant play, and wins the admiration both of artists and
dilettanti, the former by his execution of his richly intellectual
compositions, and the latter by his free fantasias, in which, as far
as his Germanism permits him, he accommodates himself to the Parisian
taste. The brothers _Bohrer_ have also returned to-day from a tour in
the provinces, but will remain here a few days only, and then leave
on a new tour viâ Munich to Vienna. I regret that I shall not have
an opportunity of hearing these artists, whom I have not met for ten
years. They wanted to persuade me to accompany them from here upon a
tour in the southern provinces, where they assure me some money is to
be made. But I have not the least inclination to go. The bad orchestras
in the provincial towns, the bad taste and the unpleasant negociations
to lessen the amount to be given up to the theatre and the poor of the
towns, would make a journey of the kind too disagreeable to me. In a
few days we shall return to Germany by way of Nancy and Strasbourg, and
therefore shall soon greet you again in dear Fatherland.

Till then farewell!

       *       *       *       *       *

To these letters regarding my sojourn in Paris, I have yet to add some
few things from recollection. From the frequent opportunities I had
of playing before _Cherubini_ at private parties, I conceived a very
ardent desire to have all my quartets and quintets so far as I thought
them worthy of it, heard by that by me highly esteemed master, and to
introduce them by degrees to his notice, in order to ask his opinion of
them. But in this I succeeded with very few only, for when _Cherubini_
had heard the first quartet (it was Nr. 1 of the Op. 45 written at
Frankfort), and I was on the point of producing a second, he protested
against it, and said: “Your music, and indeed the form and style of
this kind of music, is yet so foreign to me, that I cannot find myself
immediately at home with it, nor follow it properly; I would therefore
much prefer that you repeated the quartet you have just played!” I was
very much astonished at this remark, and did not understand it until
I afterwards ascertained that _Cherubini_ was quite unacquainted with
the German masterpieces of this kind of _Mozart_ and _Beethoven_--and
at the utmost had once heard a quartet by _Haydn_ at _Baillot’s_
soirées. As the other persons present coincided with _Cherubini’s_
wish, I consented the more readily, as in the first execution of it,
some things had not gone altogether well. He now spoke very favourably
of my composition, praised its form, its thematic working out, the
rich change in the harmonies, and particularly the _fugato_ in the
last subject. But as there were still many things not quite clear to
him in the music, he begged me to repeat it a second time, when we
should next meet. I hoped he would think nothing more about it, and
therefore at the next music party brought forward another quartet.
Before I could begin, however, _Cherubini_ renewed his request, and I
was therefore obliged to play the same quartet a third time. The same
thing occurred also with Nr. 2 of Op. 45, excepting that he spoke of it
with more decisive praise, and said of the adagio: “It is the finest I
ever heard.” He was equally pleased with my pianoforte quintet with
the concerted accompaniment of wind instruments, and I was frequently
obliged to play it on that account. The first time my wife played the
piano part; but when _Moscheles_ subsequently requested permission to
study it and to play it once, she had not the courage to play it any
more in Paris, after him. He remained therefore in possession, and
entered more and more into the spirit of the composition. He executed
the two allegro subjects especially with far more energy and style,
which certainly greatly increased their effect. As the wind instruments
of _Reicha’s_ quintet were excellent, I never recollect to have heard
that quintet so perfectly rendered as then, although I have heard it
played in more recent days by many celebrated pianoforte virtuosi.
From the continual repetition of my quartets in Paris I could find no
opportunity of giving even one of my two first quintets for stringed
instruments which had been some time written. Nevertheless I found for
them a very sympathetic audience at Strasbourg, on my return journey,
to which the taste for quartet-music has more readily penetrated from
its contiguity to Germany. The quintet in _G_ major, with the half
melancholy half merry finale, became soon an especial favorite with the
friends of music there, and at their request formed the finale of every
quartet-party. In Carlsruhe, where on a former visit I had already
played quartets frequently, particularly in the house of that lover
of art Mr. _von Eichthal_, my stay this time was very much saddened
by finding the friend of my youth _Feska_ dangerously ill: he shortly
afterwards succumbed to his incurable malady.

       *       *       *       *       *

Returned to Gandersheim, I resumed again, immediately, the pleasant
active life of the previous summer. _Edward Grund_ soon arrived also,
and devoted himself with his usual zeal both to his own improvement
and to the instruction of my children. I myself first began with the
composition of the already mentioned ten-voiced vocal mass, but I was
soon obliged to give it up for a short time. I received a letter from
my old friend _Hermstedt_, in which he invited me on the part of the
directors of the baths of Alexisbad in the Harz, to give a concert
in the course of the approaching season. He offered at the same time
to make all the necessary arrangements beforehand, so that I should
not require to stay there longer than a few days. He also urgently
pressed me to write a new clarinet concerto for him, and promised if
he received it sufficiently early, to play it for the first time at
the Alexisbad concert. As I liked to write for _Hermstedt_, who at
that time was without doubt the first of all living clarinet virtuosi,
I consented to his proposal, and set to work immediately. After
despatching to him the new concerto _F_ minor (the third for clarinet),
I wrote for myself and wife another pot-pourri concerted for violin and
pianoforte on two themes from the “Opferfest”--published afterwards
as Op. 56, for which I worked out anew a former composition for
clarinet with orchestral accompaniment which I had written in 1812 for
_Hermstedt_, for the celebration of Napoleon’s birthday, in Erfurt. I
considered it one of my most successful pieces, and wished by this new
elaboration of it, to make it more generally known. It may be readily
understood that in this transfer from the clarinet and orchestra to the
violin and pianoforte, very considerable modifications were requisite,
and that I could adhere chiefly only to the form and modulations of the
previous composition. By the time this piece of music had been studied
by us in the usual manner, with the greatest care, the day fixed upon
for our departure for Alexisbad arrived. Of this excursion I have now
but very faint reminiscences. I neither know what we played at the
concert, nor how the new clarinet concerto pleased, and the less so,
that since that time I have not heard it again; for it has remained
altogether in _Hermstedt’s_ hands, and has never been published. But I
recollect very distinctly a natural phenomenon by which our concert was
disturbed and for some time interrupted, as in London by the smashing
of the windows. Just as the music was about to begin, a storm, which
had threatened since noon, broke out with such violence, that what
with the rolling of the thunder and the noise of the rain that poured
down in torrents, nothing could have been heard. In the over-crowded
concert-room, which was suffocatingly hot, the closely packed auditory
were compelled to await the passing over of the storm, and the concert
could not be commenced until the air of the room had been renewed by
the opening of the doors and windows. Owing to this the concert did not
terminate till complete nightfall. The confusion and perplexity which
ensued among the departing audience now first reached their climax;
for it was found that the otherwise very modest rivulet which runs
through the valley of Alexisbad had become so swollen, and had torn
up and flooded the roads to such an extent, that the numerous company
that had come in from the neighbourhood of the town found it impossible
to return home in the darkness of night. All therefore first rushed
to the dining-room of the baths, but there no provision had been made
for such an influx of guests. As soon as the regular visitors of the
baths had retired to their apartments previous to sitting down to
dinner, the strangers seized upon their seats at the table, and upon
the eatables also, so that when the former returned they were obliged
to content themselves with what they could lay hold of. Upon this very
naturally a good deal of ill-feeling was excited, and the host had
enough to do and a hard time of it to pacify and keep the people in
bounds. Now, furthermore, it was found that to pass the night there
were neither rooms nor beds sufficient for their accommodation, and a
great number of the strangers were _nolens volens_ obliged to lie down
indiscriminately beside each other upon a shakedown of straw. Many did
it good humouredly, but others with ill-suppressed curses. For the
unconcerned spectator it was indeed a highly comical and amusing scene.

During the same summer, I received a similar invitation to go to
Pyrmont and give a concert there. I acquiesced, and proceeded thither
accompanied by my wife and my pupil _Edward Grund_, who conducted
the orchestra and very much facilitated my solo-playing by practising
the accompaniment beforehand, which alone enabled me to play my own
compositions. _Grund_ had in truth become a first-rate artist, and
began now to make musical tours with much success; which led to his
appointment as director of the court-orchestra at Meiningen, which
office he now still (1853) fills, respected by his prince and by the
members of the orchestra, and zealously exerting his energies to the
advantage of art. As upon his leaving Gandersheim, in the autumn of
1821, the musical instruction of my daughters completely ceased,
and as they gave evidence of vocal powers that appeared worthy of a
further artistic cultivation, I determined to remove to Dresden with my
family, in order to give the children the advantage of the instruction
of a then celebrated teacher of vocal music of the name of _Miksch_
in that city. To _Emilia_ I had indeed, myself already begun to give
instruction in singing, but soon found that I had neither the necessary
perseverance and patience, and that it drew my attention too much from
my work of composition. Besides this, also, I determined as soon as my
family had become somewhat settled in Dresden, to proceed alone upon
some short artistic tours in the neighbourhood. I wrote therefore to my
former pupil _Moritz Hauptmann_ in Dresden, and requested him to treat
with Mr. _Miksch_ on my behalf, and so soon as he should agree, to hire
apartments for me; shortly after which I received a reply informing me
that all my wishes had been carefully complied with.

My mass for ten voices had been meanwhile completed, and I longed very
much to hear it. As on my journey to Dresden I contemplated giving a
concert in Leipzic, and on that account should be obliged to make a
longer stay there, I bethought myself of getting it sung during the
time I was there by the grand choral-society of that town, with the
Director of which I was acquainted. I wrote to him therefore to inquire
if he felt disposed to have the work practised beforehand, and as
he replied in the affirmative, I sent the score to him to have the
voice-parts immediately written out.

The parting from Gandersheim was this time a very sad one, as the
children also, to whose society their grandfather and grandmother had
become so much accustomed, were to part from them, and I was obliged to
promise to return the next summer, even though for a short visit only.

On arriving in Leipzic, one of my first visits was to the Director of
the choral-society, to ascertain something about my mass. But what I
learned was not very satisfactory. The rehearsals it is true had been
commenced; but the work had been found so enormously difficult, and
was so imperfectly understood, that the director refused decidedly to
let me hear it. At my urgent request, however, a trial was made, which
went very badly, and as I did not nearly hear the effect which I had
pictured to myself during the inspiration of the work, I concluded that
I had produced a complete failure. After hearing it a few more times,
I resolved to make some alterations in it, in order to facilitate its
execution, and shortly after, the mass was published by _Peters_ as Op.
54. A long time afterwards, when I had almost forgotten it, some parts
of it were sung to me by the Berlin choral-academy under _Zelter’s_
direction. These had been so well studied, were intonated so clearly,
and had so imposing an effect from the combination of so many voices,
that I now became fully convinced that the work could be performed, and
conceived the desire to have it studied by my choral-society in Cassel.
This proved successful, as I did not lose my patience and the singers
were indefatigable, and the entire mass, without any omissions, was
performed in November 1827 on Saint Cecilia’s day. The experience I had
acquired during these rehearsals taught me, however, to avoid a too
great abundance of modulations and difficult chords in succession.

Arrived in Dresden, we were conducted by _Hauptmann_ to the lodgings
he had hired for us, which were pleasantly situated in a quiet part of
the town. Both my eldest girls immediately began their singing-lessons
with Mr. _Miksch_ and I then went in search of my former acquaintances
among the artists and amateurs of music, and, foremost of all, of
the orchestra director _Carl Maria von Weber_. He received me in
a very cordial manner, and by degrees introduced me into all the
musical circles, where I not only heard much good music, but had the
opportunity of playing my own chamber-music. As the musicians who
accompanied me evinced great interest in my quartet-play, this induced
me, with their assistance to give quartet parties every week at my
house, to which I invited the most ardent lovers of music in the town.
At these I brought forward, as I could not succeed in doing in Paris,
all the quartets and quintets in succession which I had written up to
that time, and as I soon got to the end of them, and they met with
great approbation from all hearers, I was encouraged to write some new
ones. In a short time, I finished two (the two first of Op. 58), and I
took such interest in this work, as well as in the whole artistic life
of Dresden, that I at once gave up my contemplated musical tour, and
deferred it to the latter end of the winter.

Meanwhile _Carl Maria von Weber_ had succeeded in obtaining the
permission to have his opera of “Der Freischütz” studied in Dresden,
after it had met with such brilliant success in Vienna and Berlin; and
the private rehearsals were already begun. As up to that time I had not
entertained a very high opinion of _Weber’s_ talent for composition,
it may be readily imagined I was not a little desirous of becoming
acquainted with that opera, in order to ascertain thoroughly by what
it had achieved such an enthusiastic admiration in the two capitals of
Germany. My interest in it was increased the more from my having worked
also a few years before, when at Frankfort on the Maine, upon the
same materials, from _Appel’s_ book of apparitions, for an opera; and
only abandoned the composition upon accidentally hearing that _Weber_
was already engaged upon it. The nearer acquaintance with the opera,
certainly did not solve for me the riddle of its enormous success; and
I could alone account for it by _Weber’s_ peculiar gift and capacity
for writing for the understanding of the mass. As I very well knew
that this gift had been denied me by nature, it is difficult for me to
explain how an unconquerable impulse should have led me nevertheless,
to attempt dramatic composition anew. But so it was! Scarcely had I
arrived home, than I took from my trunk, a half-forgotten work which
I had begun in Paris. On a tedious rainy day which in that muddy city
renders it impossible to go out of doors, I asked my landlady to lend
me a book to read. She brought me an old, well-read romance: “La Veuve
de Malabar.” I found its interesting matter would well permit of being
adapted to an opera, and I purchased it of her for a few sous, in order
to make trial of it. While in Paris, and during the journey home I
turned over in my mind the most favourable form for the composition of
the opera, and began immediately after my return to Gandersheim to make
the cast of a scene. In those hours when I did not feel disposed to
work on the composition of the mass, I progressed with it, and by the
time I removed with my family to Dresden, I had nearly completed it. I
now reconsidered and worked over anew this sketch with renewed zeal,
decided in the most precise manner everything that should take place
in each scene, and then looked out for a poet who would feel disposed
to write the opera according to this plan. Such a person I found in
Mr. _Edward Gehe_, who readily entered into my ideas. In this manner
originated the text of the opera “Jessonda.” I was just on the point of
beginning its composition, when an event took place that took off my
attention from it again for some time.

One morning, in the beginning of December, _Carl Maria von Weber_,
called upon me, and informed me that he had just received an invitation
to Cassel, with the offer of the appointment of conductor of the
orchestra at the newly-built court theatre there, but had decided upon
declining it, as he was fully satisfied with his present position.
Should he, however, find me disposed to apply for that post, he would
in his reply to the letter, direct attention to me, and say that I
was at present living in Dresden. As shortly before I had heard from a
member of the Cassel orchestra who passed through Gandersheim much of
the magnificence of the court theatre there and of the love of art of
the elector _William_ II. who had just entered upon the government, I
could not doubt but that I should find there an important and pleasant
sphere of action. I therefore accepted _Weber’s_ offer with many
thanks, and before the lapse of a week, as a result of his reply, I
received a letter from Mr. _Feige_, director-general of the Cassel
court theatre, in which he offered me on the part of the elector the
appointment of master of the court orchestra, and I was requested to
send in my terms of acceptance by return of post. After I had consulted
with _Weber_ and my wife, I demanded: 1) the appointment for life,
by rescript, at a salary of 2000 Thalers; 2) a leave of absence of
from 6 to 8 weeks, every year; and 3) the assurance that the artistic
direction of the opera should be made over to me exclusively. The whole
of these stipulations were agreed to, but in return it was required of
me that I should enter upon my post at the latest on the commencement
of the new year. Overjoyed as we were at this new appointment,
particularly _Dorette_, as she was thereby certain that she would be
no more separated from her children for a long time, yet we were not
altogether satisfied at having to leave our present residence so soon,
where _Emilia_ and _Ida_ were making such progress, particularly in
singing. We had besides taken our Dresden lodgings up to Easter, and
a removal in the middle of winter was altogether very unpleasant. I
therefore proposed that I should leave, to assume my place at Cassel,
but that my wife and the children should remain in Dresden till the
spring. Painful as was to her the separation from me for so long
a time, she was compelled to admit the obvious convenience of my
proposition. As the new year was now approaching, I therefore made the
necessary preparations for my departure, and urged _Gehe_ to work upon
the matter for the second and third act of Jessonda, with all possible
diligence, while I took the first act, which was ready, with me to
Cassel.

Meanwhile another new and startling offer was made to me. Count
_Salisch_, my old patron in Gotha, wrote word to me that the duchess
had been informed I was now living in private at Dresden, and she was
therefore desirous to know whether I might not be disposed to resume
my old engagement, which, since the recent death of _Andreas Romberg_,
was again vacant? Count _Salisch_ added furthermore that they would
be enabled to grant me a considerable increase of my former salary.
Had I not already accepted the offer from Cassel, I might possibly
have given this one the preference, in order to afford my wife the
pleasure of a reunion with her mother and family by a return to her
native town. But the choice was thus not permitted to me, and I might
consider this rather in the light of a fortunate circumstance, as my
sphere of action in Gotha would have been a very circumscribed one,
in comparison with that in Cassel. In a few years also I should have
again been left without a home, for the duke, and his successor also,
prince _Frederick_, the last heir, died soon after each-other, and the
state was divided among the other Saxon duchies. The orchestra was then
pensioned off, and as I could not have endured to live in complete
idleness, I should have soon removed again to some other place.

The parting from my wife and children, although for a short time only,
was nevertheless a very sad one. _Dorette_, who wept bitterly, could
alone be somewhat comforted by my promise to write every week and
inform her of everything that I was doing. In Gotha, when on passing
through I paid a visit to my mother-in-law, I was urgently pressed by
her and the other relatives of my wife, as also by the members of the
orchestra, to settle there once more. The duchess, also, to whom it
was requisite I should pay a visit, as she had always evinced so much
interest and kindness towards me, resorted to every means to make me
give up Cassel, and offered to induce her brother the elector of Hesse
to release me from my engagement. But as, since I had left Gotha, and
looked about me in the world, the sphere of action in that place seemed
to me too humble and restricted, I withstood every solicitation and
made a speedy departure.

I had scarcely arrived in Cassel (New Year’s Day 1822), than I was
summoned to an interview with the elector, who received me with great
kindness, and said many flattering things to me. Among other subjects
he expressed the hope to see his opera become by my exertions one
of the most celebrated of Germany, and requested me to make such
propositions as were best calculated to effect that object. In order
to do that I requested a fortnight’s time, so that I might first make
myself well acquainted with the means and materials at hand. After I
had been present at a few rehearsals and performances, I then assumed
my new post with the direction of _Winter’s_ “Opferfest.” As the
previous director of music, _Benzon_, had from all accounts, been so
much wanting in authority, that the singers and the orchestra did not
hesitate to oppose his regulations, which indeed led to his dismissal,
I considered it immediately necessary to somewhat tighten the reins of
discipline. I therefore became very strict at the rehearsals of the
“Opferfest,” but did not find the least disposition to resist either
in the singers, or in the orchestra; and already in the first opera
which I directed, succeeded in producing a better ensemble than they
had hitherto been accustomed to. This was also generally acknowledged,
and immediately procured for me the confidence of the elector, as also
of the whole theatrical personnel. As I already found some excellent
voices among the singers, viz. the first tenor _Gerstäcker_ and the
prima donna demoiselle _Dietrich_, and ascertained that _Feige_ the
director of the theatre was negotiating for the engagement of several
other eminent artists, I limited for the present the proposals which
I now sent in to the mere increase and improvement of the personnel
of the chorus and orchestra. The latter consisted in part of civilian
musicians, and partly of musicians belonging to the band of the
body-guard, among whom were several of great excellence. The elector
had granted to the latter as well as to the civilian musicians a
rescript of engagement for life, so that I could no longer carry out my
notion of constituting the orchestra solely of civilian musicians, in
order to avoid any collision between the military and the orchestral
duties of the non-civilians. I hoped at least, however, to get rid of
the objectionable regulations which obliged the military musicians
to appear in full uniform, which upon my first visit to the theatre
was a great eye-sore to me. But neither did I succeed in this, for
upon my representing it to the elector he replied, “It is contrary
to military etiquette for a soldier to appear before me otherwise
than in full uniform;” and when I made answer that the close-fitting
uniform made the orchestral duties more difficult, and that the high
epaulettes in particular made it quite impossible for the violinists
to hold their instrument in the proper way, he proposed to give the
musicians a particular and convenient uniform without epaulettes, for
the orchestral service, rather than give up his whim. He rejected also
my then suggested proposal to give the civilian-musicians the same kind
of uniform; and in this manner this party-coloured orchestra remained
unchanged to the astonishment of all foreigners, until the year 1832,
when the present elector became co-regent in the government.

But my propositions for the increase and improvement of the orchestra
were all adopted, and I received instructions to engage some more good
violinists, and some first-rate solo-players for the leading wind
instruments. By this means the opportunity was afforded me of bringing
my brother near to me once more, who, after the expiration of his
engagement in Vienna had met with an engagement in the Berlin court
orchestra. I was equally successful with my former pupil and friend
_Hauptmann_, and both received a rescript of engagement for life. Some
excellent musicians were soon found also for the wind instruments, and
by this increase and by diligent study and exercise, the orchestra
became one of the best in Germany, and has so remained, in spite of
all the personal changes until now (1853).

But I must revert to the year 1822. My accession to office was
celebrated by the whole theatrical company, by a grand dinner, at which
the two heads of the theatrical administration, the intendant Mr. _von
Manger_, director of the police, and director-general _Feige_ presided.
Songs, speeches and toasts were sung and made in my honour, and I felt
myself quite at home in a circle where I was met on every side with so
much friendliness, and indeed in so hearty a manner. As the Elector,
who in the first years of his rule was very generous, had made Messrs.
_von Manger_ and _Feige_ grants of money for special performances
for the relief of native and travelling musicians, this gave rise
to brilliant and interesting soirées at both their houses. These
meetings were enlivened by genius and wit, and there prevailed thereat
a joviality which though somewhat free was yet decorous. I at first
therefore frequented them with pleasure; but towards the time when I
expected my family I gradually withdrew from them, partly because I was
obliged to confess to myself that my wife would not quite approve of
this circle and partly because I was fearful of endangering my official
authority by a too companionable intercourse with the singers.

A few days after my arrival in Cassel I was presented to the Electress
and her daughters, the Princesses _Caroline_ and _Marie_, and was
invited to their evening parties. At one of these I was requested
to play some of my quartets, which I expressly practised beforehand
with the most distinguished members of the court-orchestra. Messrs.
_Wiele_, solo violinist, _Barnbeck_, first violinist, and _Hasemann_,
first violincellist (my former quartetist in Frankfort, who had been
engaged at Cassel shortly before). These music parties, which were much
spoken of, were probably the reason why the Elector, who, separated
from his wife, never joined her evening circle, gave me the order to
give a court-concert, in order to afford an opportunity for himself
and the Countess _Reichenbach_ to hear me play. This concert, for
which I enlisted the services of all the talent among the singers and
court-orchestra, was given in the grand saloon of the palace, before a
brilliant company (in which of course the Electress did not appear, as
the Countess _Reichenbach_ occupied her place), and as it was the first
at the new court, it made a great sensation. It was, however, the only
one for a long time, as the Elector and the Countess took but little
interest in concert music.

By the wish of the orchestra I assumed also the direction of the
concerts which they gave in the new town-hall saloon, and appeared
also at one of them as solo player. In the first years their receipts
were divided, as they had previously been, among the members of the
orchestra; but later, upon my proposition, they were appropriated to
a relief-fund for the widows and the families of deceased members
of the orchestra, and managed by a committee according to rules and
regulations devised for that purpose. This relief fund, which from
that period was supplied from the receipts from the concerts given
every winter by the court orchestra and those from the performance
of an oratorio on Good Fridays, is still in existence (1853), and in
the course of years has alleviated the distress of many widows and
orphans of the members of the orchestra. But for several years past
the concerts have been no more given in the town-hall, but in the
court theatre, from the time the former Elector became patron of the
institution, who, as little as the present Elector, could make up his
mind to be present at a concert given anywhere else than in the theatre.

       *       *       *       *       *

(Resumed in April 1858 after a pause of five years.)

 (In this continuation, of the Journal, written in _Spohr’s_
 seventy-fifth year, the manuscript would no longer permit of being
 printed so _verbally_ as previously, and here and there, to avoid too
 much prolixity, it was necessary to make _omissions_. Some _gaps_,
 nevertheless, which required filling up have been so far completed
 only as the citation of _Spohr’s own words_ in letters written to
 absent friends, would permit of,--so that the reader may rely upon
 the subject matter as faithfully given and that _only Spohr himself
 speaks, without any additions from the pen of others_, up to the
 mournful period (June 1858) when his biographical notes, which reach
 to the year 1838, break off altogether.)

Shortly after my arrival in Cassel, I was invited by the countess
_Hessenstein_ to a music-party. I there met several dilettanti of
the town, who all sang, though in their own very bad style only. As
nevertheless some of them had the gift of good voices, it suggested
of me the idea of directing my exertions on that side also, and
beginning by the institution of a choral society. I therefore formed
an acquaintance with some of the singers, communicated my plan to
them, and we immediately arranged to meet on an early day in order to
consult further upon the steps necessary to be taken. As result of
this meeting a code of regulations was drawn up, and as early as the
22nd March following an invitation was sent round to the dilettanti of
Cassel, signed by myself, Mr. _von Steuber_, and secretary _Knyrim_,
to join the society we were about to establish under the name of the
“Society of St. Cecilia,” in order, “after the example of the majority
of the larger towns of Germany, to strive here also towards the same
noble aim, to awaken and cultivate a pure and correct taste for music
of an exalted and earnest character.” As the enterprise met with a
cordial welcome, the society was soon formed, and upon its opening
began first with the study of _Mozart’s_ incomparable _Ave Verum_, then
with _Haydn’s_ Hymns of Thanks, and _Mozart’s_ first mass, followed by
a _Salve Regina_ by _Hauptmann_, a charmingly beautiful composition in
the real, pious ecclesiastical style. Meanwhile the number of members
had increased to more than fifty, and such satisfactory progress was
made in the weekly rehearsals, that already in the first year of its
institution the society performed several times in the catholic church
accompanied by the organ, during divine service, masses by _Hauptmann_
and others.

In the theatre also, after I had got to know the singers and orchestra
more intimately, my sphere of action began to extend itself. The
first quite new work studied under my direction was the opera “Zemira
and Azor,” which I had written at Frankfort, and which was first
performed on the 24th March. A young, talented singer, Miss _Canzi_,
who was just then on a professional visit to Cassel, sang the part of
Zemira, and _Gerstäcker_, the then much admired first tenor of our
stage, the part of Azor. As the other characters of the opera were also
well represented, it could not fail to be as well received here as at
Frankfort, so that not only was it repeated during _Canzi’s_ stay, a
few days afterwards, but also immediately studied by her successor,
Miss _Roland_, and given several times during the course of the year
with great applause. But far more pleasure than from the enthusiastic
approbation of the public, did I receive from the circumstance that the
opera pleased me, who had not heard it for two years, and I was a still
more severe judge of my later productions. I was also now more than
ever convinced, that this, like many of my compositions required to be
given in strict accordance with the spirit of the work to please the
non-connoisseur as well; and that my music, if negligently played, can
readily be so spoiled, that the connoisseur himself would be at a loss
to understand it. Meanwhile, in the beginning of March 1822 my family
arrived under the protection of my brother _Ferdinand_, who had fetched
them from Dresden on his way here from Berlin, and we removed together
to the house I had hired in the Bellevue. Once more settled down in
the domestic circle I immediately began to compose the new opera
“Jessonda,” and finished it in December of the same year. [In a letter
written to _Speyer_ of Frankfort on 26th January 1823, he says: “I have
been latterly so much engaged upon a new opera that I have somewhat
neglected everything else. It is now ready, and I am right glad to have
completed so important a work. If I expect more from this opera than
from the earlier ones, it is because of my greater experience, and
the inspiration I felt in the study of almost every ‘number’ of the
successfully written libretto. In order to devote myself to the work
in my hours of inspiration only, I have allowed myself also more time
with this than with all the former ones.”] Some “numbers” from it--the
overture, an air of Jessonda’s, and the well-known duet between Amazili
und Nadori--were performed the very same winter at the subscription
concerts, and my daughter _Emilia_ gained much applause in them. The
entire opera was first represented upon our stage on the birthday of
the Elector, the 28th July, in the following summer, and was received
with general acclamation. [In a letter of the 2nd August 1823, appears,
further: “You wish to hear from me something respecting the first
representation of ‘Jessonda;’ it is a subject scarcely becoming me to
write upon, for without wishing to do so, I must nevertheless speak
in praise of it. The effect was great! It is the fashion here, upon
birthdays to receive the court only with applause, and then the opera
is listened to without any _loud_ demonstration of approbation. It
should also have been so now; but already before the end of the first
act a storm of applause burst forth, and etiquette was forgotten for
the rest of the evening. The performance was excellent. _Gerstäcker_,
Miss _Roland_, _Hauser_ were grand, Miss _Braun_ was endurable at
least, and better than in other characters. The chorus and orchestra,
scenery, dances, spectacle combats, storm, decorations, costume, every
thing, was excellent.... This work has made me very happy, and I have
reason to hope that the opera will please much in other places.”]

From the windows of our house on the Bellevue we had a very fine view
across the meadows into the valley, which is enlivened by the Leipzic
high-road, and the beauty of the country induced us to take frequent
walks in the charming environs of Cassel. In these walks we were
mostly attracted by the numerous villas situated in gardens, outside
the Wilhelmshöhe, and also of the Cologne gate; and as we began to
like this part very much, we soon felt the wish, also, to have such a
house with garden as we had already once rented in Gotha, that we might
call our own property. When therefore in our rambles any one of these
particularly took our fancy. I often made enquiries whether the owner
was disposed to sell it, but was frequently answered in the negative,
until at length a small country-house outside the Cologne gate, close
to the town and not far from the theatre, in a quiet neighbourhood
surrounded on all sides by gardens, was offered to me to purchase. As
the price asked for it did not exceed the amount of my small savings
placed with the firm of _William Speyer_ of Frankfort, I concluded the
purchase of it at once, and already in the autumn we moved into the
newly-acquired property and had the pleasure of gathering forthwith a
good harvest of fruit and vegetables. The only thing I missed in the
new house was a spacious music room. I therefore had a partition wall
removed that separated two rooms on the first floor, and by that means
gained a sufficiently roomy saloon for a quartet party, which, however,
had the defect in an acoustic point of view, of being too low; for
which reason I proposed to myself at a later period to erect a building
with a music room.

Our pretty quiet country-house incited me anew to fresh compositions,
and so I first wrote a third quartet to the two already begun in
Dresden, which were published by _Peters_ of Leipzic as Op. 58. In
order to have this quartet heard and the former ones, I established
here also a quartet circle, at which, in turn with some other families
who were lovers of music, we gave three quartets every week, and
concluded the evenings with a frugal supper. At first the quartet
consisted of myself, Mr. _Wiele_, solo violinist, and subsequently
concert-master of our court orchestra, of my brother _Ferdinand_, who
took the viol, and of our excellent violincellist _Hasemann_. But as by
degrees, both in the orchestra, and in this small circle, death made
some vacancies, others were obliged to be substituted in their place,
and then some time was always required until we obtained once more the
old, customary ensemble again. In 1831 my brother was first snatched
from us, then _Wiele_, and at last _Hasemann_; but their places were
again filled by new members of our court orchestra, so that the
quartet parties, which only took place in the winter months, never
ceased entirely, and I myself up to quite recently (1858) played two
quartets in each of them.

After I had completed the third quartet of Op. 58, a fancy seized me
to carry out an idea I had long conceived, and of which, if I am not
mistaken, _Andrew Romberg_, when we played a quartet together for
the last time before his death, first spoke of, viz. to try my hand
at a double quartet. The circumstance that _Romberg_ had entertained
the idea for several years without ever attempting it, incited me
to it yet more, and I imagined to myself the manner in which he had
also comprehended it, and how two quartet parties sitting close to
each other, should be made to play _one_ piece of music, and keep in
reserve the eight-voice play for the chief-parts of the composition
only. According to this idea, I also wrote my first double quartet
(_B minor_), began the theme of the first allegro with both quartets
_unisono_, and _forte_, in order to impress it well upon the hearers,
and then carried it concerted through both quartets in turn. Of the
families who belonged to the quartet circle, the marshal of the court
_von der Malsburg_ had the most spacious place, for which reason
I waited until the turn came to him to give the quartet party, at
which I then with the assistance of my best pupils and of a second
violincellist from the orchestra, gave the new double quartet to our
circle, to hear. I was greatly pleased to find that its effect was
far greater than that of simple quartets and quintets, and as this
kind of chamber music excited also great sensation abroad[27], as was
proved by its frequent performance, I expected nothing less than that
the composers of that day would soon imitate it and make it general.
But this was as little the case, as with some other extensions of the
forms of art, which I have tried in later years, as for instance
in the symphony for two orchestras: “Irdisches und Göttliches im
Menschenleben.” (The earthly and heavenly in human life, Op. 121) in
the historical symphony (Op. 116), and the four-handed piano-forte
accompaniment to some tenor songs. One single young composer only,
of Lubeck, of the name of _Pape_, who was afterwards appointed
violincellist in the orchestra of the theatre at Bremen, once sent me
a double quartet in manuscript. He had great talent for composition,
but found no opportunity of making his things known, and like so many
young Germans, became desponding for want of the recognition of his
talent. This has never been published, and thus my four double quartets
remain the only ones of their kind. An octet for stringed instruments
by _Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_ belongs to quite another kind of art, in
which the two quartets do not concert and interchange in double choir,
with each other, but all eight instruments work together. This kind,
although not so interesting as the double quartets, has been imitated;
for the violincellist _Schuberth_ of St. Petersburg published one of
the kind at his brother’s, the music-publisher’s in Hamburg, which has
been played by us in Cassel several times, and been well received.

[27] The “Vienna Allgemeinen musikalischen Anzeiger,” of the 14th
March, said among other things, in announcing the publication by
_Peters_ [Op. 65] of this work: “To waste words in praising this double
quartet, which all unite in admiring, would be carrying coals to
Newcastle.”

At this time I was engaged besides on various other compositions: two
pot-pourris on themes from “Jessonda” (Op. 64 and 66, at _Peter’s_ in
Leipzic), one for violin, the other for violin and violincello, both
of which I played in the course of the winter in our subscription
concerts. I further composed a hymn to St. Cecilia, written by Miss
_von Calenberg_ for the festival of the 22nd November, which consisted
of chorus with a brilliant soprano solo, the latter very well executed
upon the occasion by my eldest daughter _Emilia_.[28]

[28] The manuscript remained unpublished for many years, and was only
recently published bei _Luckhardt_ in Cassel as Op. 97.

For the celebration of this day, which our choral society did this year
for the first time, a company of about 120 persons assembled, mostly
friends of the members of the society, in the Austrian saloon, which
had been handsomely decorated for the occasion, and ornamented with
a life-size picture of St. Cecilia. The festival began with the hymn
to St. Cecilia, after which a member delivered a discourse upon the
musical art, and with the most flattering expression of the thanks and
acknowledgements of the society, presented me with a valuable gift,
consisting of two large bronze candelabra executed by the subsequently
so celebrated sculptor _Henschel_, and ornamented with scenes from my
three operas performed here. This was followed by a “Lord’s Prayer”
by _Feska_, the _Salve regina_ by _Hauptmann_, and during the supper,
some songs for male voices were sung. In the following year _Hauptmann_
composed another hymn written by Miss _von Calenberg_ in celebration of
the name-day of our holy patroness, and as this, together with my
composition, met with the same general approbation, both these pieces
of music were executed in turn upon all the subsequent celebratimes
of the festival. The voluntary contributions which were collected
upon these occasions were applied only to charitable purposes, and
the celebration of the day although sometimes interrupted by some
disturbances, continued to be observed up to a late period, sometimes
on a more limited and at others on a more extensive scale.

In the following year (1824) I received an invitation from Councillor
_Küstner_, who was then director of the Leipzic theatre, to bring
out my opera of “Jessonda” upon that stage. [A letter of the 14th
February furnishes an account of its successful performance there on
the 9th of that month: “Upon entering the orchestra I was received with
general acclamation, the overture was called for again with a loud and
continued _da capo_. Every ‘number’ was received with lively applause,
and four of them called for again, of which one was a chorus, the first
of the 2nd act. The greatest, and really stormy enthusiasm, was created
by the duet between Amazili and Nadori. After the conclusion of the
first act a speaker stood up in a box on the first tier, and addressed
me in a speech in which he characterised me as a _true master_ of
_German art_, and called upon the audience to give me a “three times
three”! This actually took place with a flourish of trumpets and
kettle-drums in a tutti such as I thought would bring down the walls of
the theatre. At the conclusion of the opera the same scene occurred,
and the house rang with cries of “_da capo_ Jessonda!” The day after
the performance Councillor _Küstner_ sent me double the amount of the
honorarium agreed upon, and when upon my departure from the inn I was
about to pay my bill, I found that it had been already settled....
_Peters_, the publisher of the selections from it for pianoforte,
declared to me also, that after _such a success_ of the opera, the
honorarium I had fixed was too small, and that I must now permit him to
fix one for it.”] On the 14th June of the same year, the opera was also
produced at Frankfort, for the first time, and after that on the stage
of all the principal theatres of Germany.

Some time afterwards I received the command from the Elector to write
a new opera to celebrate the marriage of his daughter the Princess
_Marie_ with the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, which was to take place in
the spring of 1825. The subject I had before proposed in Vienna to
_Theodore Körner_ to arrange for me, _Musäus’s_ tale of the “Rübezahl,”
now came into my mind, and I therefore applied to Mr. _Edward Gehe_
in Dresden, who had written the libretto of “Jessonda” so much to my
satisfaction. But as I could not send to him a clear outline of the
scenes for the opera, not being myself as yet well decided respecting
the working-up of the materials, his fancy could not assist him in the
matter, and he sent me a libretto that did not all come up with my
ideas, and to which I did not at all feel myself inclined to compose. I
now called to mind my former kettle-drummer in the Frankfort orchestra,
the already-mentioned _George Döring_, who was at the same time a
literary man, and who since then had made himself known by several
successful novels. I therefore addressed myself to him, and explained
my views respecting the working-up of the “Rübezahl,” particularly
pointing out to him, that as I intended this to be a grand opera,
it would not be necessary to write it in rhyming verse. In _Gehe’s_
“Rübezahl” there were many things both shallow and inappropriate,
and which appeared to me as caused by the shackles imposed upon the
author by the rhyme, and this _Döring_, by my express wish, was to
avoid altogether. Although this has been greatly objected to, I am
nevertheless of opinion that the want of the rhyme in my opera “Der
Berggeist,” although it does not fulfill all that could be desired,
is the least to be blamed for it. Although _Döring’s_ libretto was
neither altogether to my mind, yet there was no time to be lost, and
less so, since this was not the only work the elector had requested
me to prepare for the celebration of the marriage. I had besides to
compose a grand march with introduction of the melody of the old
German ballad: “Und als der Grossvater die Grossmutter nahm,” together
with a torch-light-dance for fifty-three trumpeters, and two pair of
kettle-drummers (for these were the numbers to be found in the music
bands of the army of the Elector of Hesse); and as for the sake of the
modulation I was obliged to take various tones of the trumpets, and
the trumpeters of the bands not being very musical, I was obliged to
practise them also beforehand in this torch-light-dance.

At the end of the year, nevertheless, I was ready with all these
compositions, and could now proceed to the study of the “Berg-Geist.”
Our first tenor _Gerstäcker_, who had been ill for some time past, had
meanwhile become worse, and his malady had taken so sad a turn, that
all likelihood of his being able to sing was out of the question, and
we were now without a first tenor. The Elector therefore gave orders
to invite some foreign singer to perform for a series of nights in his
place, and we were so successful as to engage for several weeks the
services of the tenorist _Cornet_ of Hamburg, who was then in great
repute, together with his betrothed, Miss _Kiel_ of Sondershausen, who
undertook the first soprano part in the new opera. Scarcely, however,
had I begun the study of the work by our own theatrical company, than
I received from _Spontini_ an invitation that very much surprised me,
viz. to proceed to Berlin, to direct the first representation there of
the opera of “Jessonda,” fixed for the 4th of February, and to preside
myself at the two last grand rehearsals. _Spontini_, who must often
have seen himself reproached in the Berlin newspapers, for giving
nothing but his own operas, and witholding other meritorious works
from that stage, might have come to the idea of meeting that reproach
in the most signal manner by inviting the composer of “Jessonda.” But
in reality he did not seem to trouble himself much in furthering the
representation of the opera; for as soon as, having obtained leave of
absence, I arrived at Berlin, and waited upon _Spontini_, he received
me in a very friendly manner, it is true, but informed me that the
preparatory-rehearsals even had not yet been begun, and that he had
sent me the invitation without the previous knowledge of the intendant
of the royal theatre, Count _Brühl_. I now first sought to soften
the sensitiveness of the latter on the score of such a neglect, and
in order not to be obliged to return home without having effected
anything, I then consulted with him on all that was necessary to
expedite the representation of the opera.

In the preparatory rehearsals which now took place, I had the
satisfaction of finding that the principal parts were in good hands:
_Bader_ and _Blume_ as Nadori and Tristan, and Mdmes. _Schulze_ and
_Seidler_ as Jessonda and Amazili, were excellent singers; the part
of Dandau also was well filled by Mr. _Krause_, and that of Lopez,
which had at first been given to a comic singer, by which the serious
character of the opera would have been damaged, was taken by the
baritone _Devrient_, after I had agreed to make some alterations in
the recitatives. The opera could thus have been soon placed on the
repertory, when _Bader_ suddenly fell ill, and after his convalesence
Mrs. _Seidler_, being seized with a hoarseness occasioned some
obstruction. As the term of my leave of absence was nearly at an end,
I made application for an extension of it. But the Elector had felt
himself aggrieved by the obstacles thrown in my way by _Spontini_ and
the Berlin intendance, and he allowed me but a few days more, after the
expiration of which I was to return, whether the opera was brought out
or not. Fortunately, Mdme. _Seidler_ got better; I could now therefore
direct in person the first representation of “Jessonda” in Berlin, and
be witness to its very favourable reception. Immediately after, I left,
and travelled three whole nights without resting, in order to regain
the time lost.

The two singers from Hamburg had arrived in the meantime, and had
already performed with great applause; I could therefore begin the
stage rehearsals of the “Berg-Geist” at once. But between whiles I
received furthermore the elector’s order to arrange choruses for the
prologue to the opera, in which were to be introduced some popular
Thuringian melodies. To effect this I applied to my pupil _Grund_,
concertmaster at Meiningen, who procured for me the desired melodies,
which I then made use of in the work as well as they would admit of it.

On the 23rd March 1825, the marriage took place in the palace of
Bellevue. On the procession of the new-married pair and their
suite from the dining-hall to the white saloon, the orchestra
played my march, which had a good effect, and at the part where the
“Grossvater-Lied” was introduced was very pretty. The Elector, and
the Duke (who was decidedly more musical than his father-in-law) both
congratulated me much upon the grand march, which, at their request,
was played a second time. The reception of the married couple at the
festive representation on the following evening in the theatre, was a
very brilliant and noisy one; for I ordered the fifty-three trumpeters
and the two pair of kettle-drummers whom I had placed up in the gallery
to join in with the acclamations and vivats of the audience! The
festive-prologue written by counsellor _Niemeyer_ followed; then my new
opera “Der Berg-Geist,” which in truth was received by the thronged
and brilliantly lighted house with as much boisterous applause as
“Jessonda,” but which neither pleased me so much, nor was so popular
on other stages as the latter. The Elector, who was very satisfied
with all I had written for the occasion, sent for me the next-day,
thanked me, and presented me with a very handsome snuff-box, upon the
lid of which, though somewhat unsuitable for a musician, was a very
artistic chasing representing a combat of cavalry, set and framed
under glass. But--and that was the best part of it--it was filled with
Friedrich’s-d’or, and therefore a handsome and princely gift.

A few months afterwards Councillor _Küstner_ sent for my new opera
to Leipzic, and in September the first representation of it on that
stage took place. [A letter of the 18th September speaks of it in
the following manner: “The day before yesterday “Der Berg-Geist”
was launched here with the greatest success.... The _mise en scene_
was more brilliant than was ever known before in Leipzic, and some
of the scenes were more beautiful than any I had ever yet seen. The
scene-painter _Gropius_ is in a fair way to become the first in the
world; neither in Italy, Paris nor London have I ever seen anything so
charming as the closing-scene of the second act.... The reception the
opera met with, was the most flattering I had ever yet experienced....
The performance may be said to have been a very successful one. With
the exception of one error in the overture, and one obstinate rock
which would not come up out of the earth, nothing went wrong. On
the stage, almost all did better than in Cassel, particularly the
Berg-Geist (_Köckert_) and Oscar (_Vetter_).... The orchestra, although
far inferior to ours, was unusually good.”]

In the summer of 1825 an aimable young man, _Frederick Curschman_
of Berlin, came to Cassel to perfect himself under my guidance as
a musician. Although he had begun the study of jurisprudence at
Göttingen, he thought nevertheless of giving up the law, and had
already tried his hand with success at various kinds of literature,
particularly in songs, which he sung with a pleasing baritone voice,
and thereby introduced himself into our musical circle. As his musical
education was still imperfect, I advised him to apply first to
_Hauptmann_, who at my request had undertaken to instruct my violin
pupils in the theory of music, and shown great skill in that capacity.
_Curschmann_ also immediately joined our society of St. Cecilia, and
became a very valuable member of it, as he not only sang the bass soli
very well at sight, but frequently took the pianoforte accompaniment,
and did the duty of a librarian with great zeal. Together with some of
our best dilettanti he formed also an opera circle, in which for the
first time were produced several of his compositions which afterwards
became such favorites, and parts of his little opera “Die Todten, oder
Abdul und Erinnieh,” which was brought out at a later period upon the
stage here. He thus in many ways enlivened the culture of art in our
town, and soon became the favorite of the musical world.

In the same year Councillor _Rochlitz_, the editor of the Leipzic
Musical Journal, offered me the text of an Oratorio: “Die letzten
Dinge,” to compose for; which I received with great pleasure, as my
previous attempt in that style of art, “Das jüngste Gericht,” the
oratorio performed at Erfurt, by no means pleased me any longer, and
therefore I had not once been disposed to perform a single “number”
of it at the meetings of our society. I now began with new studies
of counter-point, and of the ecclesiastic style, and set zealously
to work on the composition, in which I followed the prescriptions of
the author which he had forwarded to me with the text, in respect to
its treatment, and which I not only strictly adhered to, but found of
assistance to me. The first part of the oratorio was thus soon ready,
and as early as the end of November I could give it with the members of
our choral society, at a concert in behalf of the sufferers from the
fire that had occurred shortly before at Seesen; although it is true,
with pianoforte accompaniment only. On that occasion, I observed with
great pleasure, that it made a deep impression upon the assistants, as
well as upon all the auditory, and this observation was of the more
importance to me, as it convinced me that I had found the proper style
for this kind of work. I had in particular striven to be very simple,
religious, and true in expression, and carefully to avoid all artistic
trickery, all bombast and every thing of difficult execution. With
increased zest I now proceded to compose the second part, so that the
whole work was finished by the following Good Friday (1826) and then
first performed complete in the Lutheran church. [A letter of the 26th
March speaks of it in the following manner: “Yesterday was a great day
of festival for the lovers of music here; for never yet had so solemn
a musical performance as my oratorio taken place in Cassel. It was in
the evening, and the church was lighted up. My son-in-law _Wolff_,
who had been long in Rome, proposed to illuminate the church as at
Rome on Good Friday, with lights disposed overhead in the form of a
cross, and carried out his idea. A cross fourteen feet long, covered
with silver-foil, and hung with six hundred glass lamps, was suspended
overhead in the middle of the church, and diffused so bright a light
that one could everywhere clearly read the text-books. The musicians
and singers, nearly two hundred in number, were placed in the gallery
of the church, arranged in rows one above the other, and for the most
part unseen by the auditory, which, amounting to nearly two thousand
persons, observed a solemn stillness. My two daughters, Messrs. _Wild_,
_Albert_ and _Föppel_, together with an amateur, sang the soli, and
the performance was faultless. The effect was, I must myself say,
extraordinary. Never did I before experience such satisfaction from
the performance of one of my greater works! I had always had to lament
either an imperfect execution, an unsuccessful effect, or something
else. This time it was quite different. The work, also, is simple and
easy, and yet not less comprehensive in contents, than the others.”]
The visibly deep impression that the oratorio made upon the public
may also have been yet further assisted by the solemn grandeur of
the illuminated cross--which harmonized greatly with the religious
sentiment inspired by the day. The elector only was not pleased with
the selection of the Lutheran church and its “catholic illumination,”
as he called the cross, and he ordered that the orchestra should give
their future Good Friday concerts in the court and garrison church,
lit up with chandeliers to be furnished from the electoral household
lighting department.

Shortly afterwards I received an invitation from my London friend
_Ferdinand Ries_, who had returned to Germany, and was then living
in the neighbourhood of Godesberg on the Rhine, to direct personally
my new oratorio at the Rhenish musical festival at Düsseldorf, the
arrangements for which had been confided to him. Although the Rhenish
musical festival was held at Whitsuntide, and therefore at a time when
our theatrical vacation had not yet begun, and I therefore required
to obtain an express permission to do so, I nevertheless succeeded in
obtaining it immediately, for the Elector felt himself flattered when
his director of music was invited to important musical performances,
and thereby acquired honour and fame.

While therefore I prepared to set out with my whole family, except
_Ida_ who, in the meanwhile, had married Professor _Wolff_, four of the
most ardent lovers of music here, Mr. _Curschmann_, the referendary
_Charles Pfeiffer_, Mrs. _von der Malsburg_ and her friend Miss _von
Heister_, made up their minds to join us, and like us to travel by
post, in order to be able to put up at dinner-time, and at night at the
same places. Favoured by the finest weather, we set out on our journey
on the 9th May 1826, and as the carriages always kept close together,
we exchanged places in them sometimes, always took our meals together,
and our pleasant and spirited conversation was not at all interrupted,
so that I never recollect having made a more agreeable journey.

On the third day we were met three miles from Düsseldorf by the
festival committee and the family of the State-Councillor _von
Sybel_, at whose house I and the members of my family were to stop;
and scarcely had we arrived at Düsseldorf, than we were welcomed by
the choral-society with a serenade. At the first general rehearsal,
which was held on the following morning, I had the satisfaction of
finding that my oratorio had been carefully and correctly studied by
the different societies, and was sung with an enthusiastic feeling for
the work. I could not feel so content with the orchestra, which had
been gathered together from different places, and in which dilettanti
assisted, and among others, my friend _Thomae_ from Cleves, among the
wind instruments. It was therefore a difficult matter to bring all
the instruments to the same pitch, and it could only be effected by
great patience and frequent repetitions. In the afternoon of the same
day, the rehearsal of the performances for the second day was held,
which _Ries_ conducted. At it were given a new symphony by _Ries_
(manuscript _D_ major), a Sanctus and a Credo from a mass by _Frederick
Schneider_, the jubilee overture of _Carl Maria von Weber_, and lastly,
a selection of the finest “numbers” from _Handel’s_ “Messiah.” As
Miss _Reinigen_ of Crefeld, the solo singer, was taken suddenly ill,
my daughter _Emilia_ was obliged to take the soprano part also in the
vocal performances. But so diligently did she study it, that already
at the very first rehearsal she went through the business right well,
and by her aid all derangement of the festival was obviated. But so
much the greater was _Ries’s_ difficulty with the wind instruments in
his symphony. He nevertheless displayed in the matter great patience,
and dealt very leniently with the awkwardness of the dilettanti. On
the following day were held two more rehearsals of the performances
for the first and second day of Whitsuntide (the 14th and 15th May),
which then, after such careful rehearsals passed off without a fault.
My oratorio was received with such enthusiasm by those who played
and by the auditory, that on the evening of the very first day, the
prolongation of the festival was mooted in order to repeat once more
“Die letzten Dinge” for the benefit of the Greeks. This was publicly
announced on the second day of the performances, and the majority of
the strangers present stopped in order to be present at its repetition.
Thus my work had the honour conferred upon it of a second performance,
of which I might well be proud, as since then so far as I know of, such
a thing has never happened to any work given at the Rhenish musical
festivals. In the musical journals, also, there appeared several very
favourable notices of my oratorio, and I therefore hastened to publish
selections from it for the pianoforte. But the edition I issued was
soon sold off, and a second was therefore published afterwards by
_Simrock_ of Bonn, who also brought out the song parts with it, by
which the performances of the work in almost all the towns of Germany,
Holland and Switzerland was very much facilitated. I could therefore
be very content with the reception of this oratorio, and frequently
as it was performed and spoken of, no voice was ever heard raised in
condemnation of it.

In the course of this year I wrote besides a second quintet (_B_
flat minor, Op. 69, published by _Peters_) and three quartets (Op.
74, also by _Peters_). But I now longed to begin a greater work, and
particularly an opera, although the “Berg-Geist” acquired no extensive
popularity, since, after the representations in Cassel and Leipzic, it
was only given at Prague, where it met several times with a brilliant
reception. As _Curschmann_ at the same time entertained a similar
desire, he had requested his fellow-traveller and friend, _Charles
Pfeiffer_, who at that time had begun to make himself a name as a poet,
to work up a novel of _Tieck’s_, “Pietro von Abano” as an opera text.
He may however have felt himself not yet quite sufficiently advanced in
his musical culture, and therefore when _Pfeiffer_ had completed the
first act of the libretto, he abandoned his project of attempting so
soon a grand opera. He now offered me the composition of Pietro, and
as the novel, as well as the manner in which it had been worked up,
pleased me greatly, I soon came to an arrangement with both gentlemen
respecting it, and in February 1827, set to work very assiduously upon
it, and completed it in August of the same year. The opera occasioned
me anxiety at first, on account of the immediate succession of two
scenes--a funeral, and the pranks of a band of merry students--so
strikingly dissimilar and incongruous as to render their proximity
unpleasant: neither did I at all like the speaking part of the bishop,
without any singing. But as this part was taken by _Seydelmann_, who
was then engaged at our theatre from pure interest he took in the
work, and was performed in a very dignified manner, I became more
satisfied with it, and had the gratification of finding that it made
a deep impression upon the performers, the orchestra, and my musical
friends who were permitted to assist at the rehearsals. On its first
representation, on the 13th October 1827, it was also received by the
public with a similar enthusiasm to “Jessonda,” and I had therefore
reason to hope that like it also, it would soon obtain popularity
beyond Cassel. But when at the request of the directors of some other
theatres I forwarded the book to them, I soon found that not only did
the catholic towns disapprove of the introduction of the bishop and the
ecclesiastical forms on the stage, but the intendants of theatres in
protestant towns, also, and among others, Count _Brühl_ in Berlin, who
rejected the opera, because they had some scruples about the contents.
At that time it is true, many of the later operas and plays, which
since then have hardened the public against all objectionable matter,
had not become the fashion of the day. But _Meyerbeer_, who now wanted
to hear the opera with all these circumstances of form, expressed
himself in regard to it in the following manner in a letter of the 4.
March 1828: “I cannot conclude my letter without thanking you for the
pleasure that the perusal of the score of your master-piece “Pietro
von Abano,” which Mr. _Schlesinger_ lent to me, has afforded me, and
I am happy to be able to say, that in particular the first act, the
first finale (although only furnished by the poet with two personages),
the scene between Antonio and the half-lifeless Cecilia in the second
act, and the ingenious manner in which the stringed instruments, half
_con sordini_, half _senza sordini_, shadow forth the dialogue between
the living Antonio and the spirit-like Cecilia; the imposing finale
of the second act; and besides these, numerous other features of
splendid dramatic intention, excellent declamation, novel, picturesque
instrumentation and harmony, have truly charmed me, and excited in
me the most ardent desire to be present at a performance of your
master-piece.”

In the year 1828, I wrote my second double-quartet, and endeavoured to
bring it nearer to my first idea of the double choral style, than the
first: in this I succeeded to my own satisfaction. I played it for the
first time publicly in one of our winter-concerts of December, with
great applause, and it soon found the same appreciation and publicity
in other places as the previous one. Shortly afterwards I received an
invitation to conduct my oratorio “Die letzten Dinge” at a musical
festival that was to take place at Halberstadt on the 4th June 1828,
and I set out this time accompanied only by my wife and my youngest
daughter _Theresa_, as shortly before, my daughter _Emilia_ had married
a manufacturer of the name of _Zahn_, and could leave her domestic
concerns as little as _Ida_.

My oratorio was excellently performed by the different choral-societies
that had been invited for that purpose, as they were all enthusiastic
admirers of it, and gave it the preference over all other works then
performed.

At the second concert I played my new concertino in _A_ major (Op.
79, published by _Schlesinger_), and I think that, upon the same
occasion, also, my just finished third symphony in _C_ minor (Op. 78,
also published by _Schlesinger_) was then performed for the first
time. One circumstance, the remembrance of which is still impressed
upon my memory, and which relates to my daughter _Theresa_, then nine
years old, I must yet relate. I took the child with me to all the
rehearsals, as she would always attend those at Düsseldorf, and I
augured from that, a great love for music. In Halberstadt _Theresa_
expressed especial pleasure in the concluding “number” of the oratorio,
and as that was a fugue on the words: “His is the kingdom, the power,
and glory,” I furthermore concluded that she had not only a strong
sentiment for music generally, but also for its graver forms, and I
even imparted to _Dorette_ the pleasure I felt at the happy disposition
of our child. But when I questioned _Theresa_ more closely respecting
her preference for the fugue, I was informed to my great surprise
and to my shame, “that she only liked the piece of music in question
better than all the rest, because she knew, that, as at Dusseldorf,
the rehearsal would soon be over, and that then we should _go home
to dinner_!”--Shortly afterwards I received from the parties who got
up this musical festival a permanent, and more gratifying cause to
remember the same; for they sent me, as a mark of their gratitude, a
costly table-clock, ornamented with appropriate emblems, and bearing on
the pedestale an inscription, with the date.

In the course of the year I wrote three more violin-quartets, which
were published by _Schlesinger_ as Op. 82, after which, as I was not
very successful with my operas upon other stages, I turned once more
to church music, and in the spring of 1829, wrote my “Lord’s prayer,”
on the text of _Mahlmann_. The effect which this work produced at its
first performance, although only with pianoforte accompaniment, on the
festival of St. Cecilia the same year, was greatly increased, when a
few months afterwards it was given at one of our winter-concerts with
full orchestral accompaniment. It was not only received here in Cassel
upon every repetition up to more recent times, with great approbation,
but it soon found much approval in other places also.

On the 4th June 1829, another musical festival took place at
Nordhausen, to which I was also invited. Of the first day’s performance
I have nevertheless, now no clear recollection; but on the second day
I played with _Müller_ of Brunswick, with _Wiele_ of this place, and
with _Maurer_ of Hannover, a concertante for four violins, of the
composition of the latter. For myself, I chose to play the fourth, on
the occasion, as my Stradivari-violin had a particularly good tone on
the _G_ string, and as we had practised together that celebrated piece
of music very assiduously, the applause was quite extraordinary. My
new clarinet-concerto in _E flat_, which I had written for _Hermstedt_
for this musical festival, met with no less approbation, but it is no
longer in my possession, neither do I now know whether it is still
in existence. During our stay in Nordhausen, we lived in the house
of a Mr. _Fleck_, a merchant, whose wife was a very amiable hostess.
One day at dinner, _Edward Grund_ my former pupil, was prompted to
propose a toast to her, in doing which he introduced the observation
that she “was anything but a Fleck[29] in human society, but much
rather to be called a gleam of light.” I also remember still with
pleasure the beautiful weather that favoured the dinner which the
people of Nordhausen gave to their guests upon a neighbouring hill
which commanded a view of the town. The collation was spread upon the
greensward, and as good wine was by no means wanting, the company soon
became very merry, and returned to town in the best possible humour.

[29] Fleck, in the German language, signifies, a spot, stain, or
blemish.

In August 1829, I wrote a solo-quartet in _E major_ (Op. 83, published
by _Schlesinger_). But my desire to try my fortune once more with an
opera gave me no rest, and I therefore persuaded my friend _Charles
Pfeiffer_ to work up for me the subject of a Spanish novel by
_Washington Irving_, that seemed to me very attractive, and in every
respect adapted for an opera. But as _Pfeiffer’s_ name could not be
mentioned in the playbills, as in the electorate of Hesse it is not
considered becoming for a servant of the state to occupy himself with
poetical works together with his official duties, the indetectable
name of _Schmidt_ was chosen instead of his; just as when “Pietro” was
brought out the author’s name was not mentioned, as _Feige_, then the
director of the theatre, did not like to be responsible to the Elector
and the public for permitting a fictitious name proposed by me to be
placed upon the playbill.--In October 1829, I, therefore, with my usual
zeal, with every new work, set about the composition of the opera
of the “Alchymist,” completed it in April of the following year, and
immediately distributed the parts, in order to perform it on the 28th
July, the birthday of the Elector. It pleased here in Cassel quite as
much as my previous operas, but out of Hesse was represented at Prague
only, though with great approbation;[30] while the selections made from
it for the pianoforte, arranged by my brother _Ferdinand_, found a more
widespread publicity.

[30] In the Vienna “Musicalischer Anzeiger” of the 23rd January 1834 is
the following notice respecting it: “All who have had the opportunity
of hearing and judging for themselves, know and feel that the esteemed
maestro, in all his dramatic compositions, with the exception of the
single, purely genial “Faust,” introduces his hearers less into the
wondrous realm of fancy, than he leads them like a true friend, by
pleasant meandering paths through the charming and balmy groves of
harmony. This work also, breathes the same calm, reflective spirit that
speaks to the heart, the same pure taste, the same style, as noble as
it is elegant, the same constancy, unity and well-sustained interior
connection, that so particularly characterizes all the works of this
perhaps most substantial of all living composers, and which distinguish
also no less this musical creation.”

In June 1830 _Paganini_ came to Cassel and gave two concerts in
the theatre, which I heard with great interest. His left hand, and
his constantly pure intonation were to me astonishing. But in his
compositions, and his execution I found a strange mixture of the highly
genial and childishly tasteless, by which one felt alternately charmed
and disappointed, so that the impression left as a whole was, after
frequent hearing, by no means satisfactory to me. As his visit took
place just on Whitsunday, I took him the next day to Wilhelmshöhe,
where he dined with me, and was very lively, indeed somewhat
extravagantly so.

A few months afterwards the revolution of July broke out in France, and
as a general excitement had extended itself to Germany also, symptoms
of discontent with the public authorities showed themselves also here
in Cassel. Just previously, the Elector had gone to Vienna, accompanied
by the Countess _Reichenbach_, with the object, as it was believed, of
effecting at the Austrian court the elevation of that personage to the
dignity of a princess. He had afterwards repaired to Carlsbad, and from
there came all manner of strange reports about his serious illness,
resulting from some personal conflicts with the Countess _Reichenbach_,
on account of which, his physician Mr. _Heräus_, proceeded to Carlsbad,
but not having been admitted to an audience, returned to Cassel. A
deputation from the members of the privy council was hereupon sent to
Carlsbad; was received several times by the elector, and brought back
intelligence that he would shortly return to his capital. Before this
took place however, on the evening of the 6th September, disturbances
broke out. I was at the moment with my wife at the theatre, where
_Raupach’s_ comedy “Der Zeitgeist” was being performed, and I remarked
on a sudden, that messengers had been sent to the officers who were
present, informing them that “the alarm” had been sounded in the town,
and upon this they all immediately left. This created so much sensation
in the house, that the rest of the audience thought that nothing less
than a great fire had broken out in the town, and they also left the
house in the midst of the performance. Fearing for the safety of our
own and our children’s dwellings, we went out with the rest, and were
at length informed that the excited people had riotously attacked
several bakers’ shops, and committed depredation in the houses of the
owners, because, notwithstanding the fall that had taken place in the
price of corn, they had raised the price of bread. In order to prevent
further excesses on the part of the populace, a number of the citizens
had, with the consent of the ministry, taken up arms, and the military
occupied not only the electoral palace, but the Königstrasse and the
Friederichsplatz, so that the people leaving the theatre could not
pass through the closed streets. We were therefore compelled to make a
circuit to reach our house and when arrived there, dared not retire to
rest at the usual hour, as the commotion that prevailed in the town was
still very great. The Elector did not return till the 12th September,
but at first unaccompanied by the Countess _Reichenbach_, and with
the greatest privacy. He immediately proceeded to Wilhelmshöhe,
whither, a few days after, the magistracy with chief-burgomaster
_Schomburg_ at their head, followed him, to express their pleasure at
his convalescence and return; as also to petition him to assemble the
estates, which had not been done since 1815, and to advise with them
upon the alleviation of many existing grievances. The magistracy was
nevertheless not admitted to an audience till the following morning
in the electoral palace at Cassel, during which, half the town had
collected on the Friedrichsplatz, in order to ascertain immediately
whether the result of the deputation was successful, and if such should
be the case the master-cooper _Herbold_, had agreed to make it known
to the people by waving a white handkerchief from the window of the
chamber of audience. When therefore the deputation in solemn procession
from the Ober-Neustädter town-hall, approached the palace, and had
crossed its threshold, all eyes were directed to the windows of the
audience-chamber, and the decision was anxiously awaited.

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]

[31] It was published by _Haslinger_, in Vienna, and the “Wiener
Theater-Zeitung,” conducted by _Ad. Bäuerle_, speaks of it in the
following manner: “A fit companion to _Hummel’s_ ‘Clavier-Schule’
(pianoforte school); for in the same way that that opens a new
department of education in pianoforte play, this embraces the whole
art and science of violin play, and lays down clear principles for an
art which hitherto has been taught more by oral precepts, or, at the
utmost, by small fragmentary pamphlets. It required the penetrating,
searching mind of a _Spohr_, who surpasses in complete scientific
culture the authors of every existing school, to condense in systematic
order so important a branch of art, which has been two centuries in
acquiring shape; so that the _violin_, so prominent in all music, may
be cultivated upon sure and proper principles, and its study carried
out with certain success. How well the great maestro _Spohr_ goes to
work to effect this we shall shew in a subsequent clearer exposition
of the contents; for he has not only copiously treated the scientific
musical culture of the pupil by the clear outspoken method of the
instruction in the explanatory text, assisted by the excellent and
appropriate pieces which he supplies for practice, but also, in the
mechanical part of the instruction, in which the mechanism of the human
body is so beautifully and appositely shewn in all its bearings on the
mechanical structure of the instrument. The excellent preface to the
work presents rules of conduct both for the instructors and parents of
pupils for the obviation of a host of evils which have hitherto arisen
from false and erroneous modes of proceeding, from the circumstance
that few lovers of music, and few teachers of music even, are
sufficiently acquainted with these arcana of the art. Well and clearly
does he enumerate the means of encouragement by which the industry
of the pupil may be incited. How generous is the invitation of the
_famed master to the students of the violin_, that they should impart
to him their experience in the progress of their studies of his code
of instruction for violin-play, for the further extension of his own
knowledge! In this the _great earnestness_ of the true artist for the
attainment of the one great object is made conspicuously evident.”...
The notice concludes with the following words: “The world-famed
master, _Spohr_, has by this _excellent work alone_ ensured an undying
celebrity, and thereby added but a new and beautiful leaf to the laurel
wreathe that encircles his brows.”

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.]

[32] The court theatre was closed at this time.

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.

[33] English.

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.

[34] “Schön Hannchen.”

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.

[35] Its first performance in Vienna produced there a great sensation,
as several gratifying reports, accompanied by a costly silver cup with
suitable inscription, testify. The Vienna Musical Journal said in a
very enthusiastic review, among other things: “It is again a work, that
speaks its own master’s praise in elegant language: a pure whole, a
thing apart of itself, all of one casting. The introduction, andante
_C sharp_, breathes a cheerful repose which gradually assumes an
impassioned character and prepares the hearer for the transition to the
allegro, _C minor_, which, replete with treasures of harmony bears in
itself the germ of an imposing effect.... The second theme, Larghetto,
_A major_, is a conglomerate of deep feeling, warm fantasy, and of song
replete with sentiment etc.; in this again each note speaks to the
heart with irresistible force.... The scherzo, _C sharp_, opens with a
bold freshness of appeal to life and cheerfulness, the sharp rhythms,
the unceasing and restless competition of the wind and stringed
instruments, the impetuous bursts of tonic power as opposed to the soft
clear flowing cantilene of the alternative,--and, all these effected in
a manner so original and striking as to defy expression in words....
For the _presto_ finale, the poet of sound appears to have husbanded
as much as possible the sum total of his creative powers.... Not one
of the numberless beauties were lost upon the hearers, each theme in
succession received the merited tribute to his mastery; and indeed the
richly fantastic scherzo electreified all so unanimously, that a _da
capo_ was imperatively called for.”...

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]

[36] As _Spohr_ himself always considered this English musical festival
(the Norwich festival) and the flattering reception given to him and
his works in that country, as the most brilliant period in his active
life, its description may reasonably find a place here in a somewhat
more detailed form.

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_....”

[37] The extracts given here and subsequently from the letters of
_Spohr’s_ relatives, may find their excuse in the circumstance that he
himself had neither leisure nor inclination to write letters during
this journey, but was greatly pleased when his female companions wrote
home frequently (which of course was always in harmony with his own
sentiments),--and he seldom allowed such a letter to leave without
having expressed his full concurrence with the contents.

But the time pressed for the departure to Norwich, where professor
_Taylor_,[38] the chief director of the whole musical festival,
had already made the necessary preliminary rehearsals of _Spohr’s_
oratorio, and now received the travellers to accompany them to the
mayor of Norwich. On the following morning the mayor took his guests
to hear divine service in the cathedral, which is of immense size and
considered one of the finest in England. In a letter upon the subject
_Spohr’s_ relative thus expresses herself: “Of _such_ a celebration of
divine service, though it lasted nearly three hours, one is not readily
weary; the heavenly music with which it is interspersed in various
ways, I cannot describe, and it is performed with a purity and finish
such as made great impression also on _Spohr_ himself. The congregation
did not sing at all, but always followed in their hymnbooks and
prayer-books, the text of which (all taken from the Bible) I certainly
could understand better than the _sermon_. The choir robed in white,
with their tender tones, made an irresistible impression; words, music,
and execution, all were in such perfect unison, that I could scarcely
imagine a finer worship of the deity in heaven itself. When at the
conclusion we passed through the spacious nave of the magnificent
building with the whole congregation, the masses of people arranged
themselves on either side to permit our passage, and looked at _Spohr_
as something wonderful; many also, requested to be introduced to
_Spohr_, and our kind mayor, who accompanied us and conducted _Spohr_,
was quite happy, and proud of the whole scene. His daughter _Mary_, a
charming maiden of fifteen, is also enthusiastically fond of music and
particularly of _Spohr’s_; she plays herself very nicely on the piano,
and when her father informed us that it would make her exceedingly
happy to play a few notes with _Spohr_, he accompanied her in one of
his favorite sonatas of _Mozart_...”

[38] As a member of the committee he had conducted the correspondence
with _Spohr_ relative to his coming, concerning which the following
remarks appeared in the “Spectator”: “It is highly to the credit of
the great master, that to the question what compensation he required
for the time and exertions required of him during the journey, and
for direction of the oratorio, he simply replied: ‘The committee will
doubtless have no objection to pay my travelling-expenses?’ We are glad
to learn that the modesty of this reply and _Spohr’s_ coming to England
without any further negotiation on the matter with the committee, was
duly recognised by the latter, who thereupon came to the resolution
to present Mr. _Spohr_ with a sum of 100 guineas over and above the
account of his expenses.”

If _Spohr_ had understood the English language, the impression made
upon him by the divine service would perhaps have been greatly
disturbed by the circumstance that the sermon preached upon the
occasion was in a great measure levelled against his oratorio. Already
before his arrival in Norwich, several persons of the puritanical party
had raised their voices against its performance, and endeavoured in
every way both in print and in the pulpit to shew that it was profane
and sinful to make so sacred a subject as the sufferings and death
of Christ, a theme for music. It thus so happened that on the Sunday
morning on which _Spohr_ visited the cathedral a zealous clergyman
considered it his duty to hurl a crushing discourse against his
oratorio: The “_Calvary_,” as it is rendered in English, and at the
conclusion implored his hearers not to surrender their souls for one
day’s pleasure, but to stop away from its performance. The “Monthly
Chronicle” further observes on the subject: “We now see the fanatical
zealot in the pulpit, and sitting right opposite to him the _great
composer_, with ears happily deaf to the _English_ tongue; but with a
demeanour so becoming, with a look so full of pure good will, and with
so much humility and mildness in the features, that his countenance
alone spoke to the heart like a good sermon. Without intending it, we
make a comparison, and cannot for a moment doubt in which of the two
dwelt the _spirit_ of religion, which denoted the true christian!”

On the day after the performance of the oratorio the same journal says:
“This day was to decide the fate of the oratorio “_Calvary_,” and
had the decision been unfavourable the fame of Norwich was for ever
departed. The public mind was therefore on the greatest stretch, for
many persons feared the powerful influence of an adverse clergy. But
a better spirit, a sentiment of right feeling triumphed, and hours
before the opening of the doors the matter was decided. From far and
near the auditory flocked in thousands, evincing a powerful feeling
of excitement, and an enthusiasm which increased continually during
the performance; and beyond all expectation, a complete triumph was
achieved. It may justly be said of this oratorio, that a heavenly
inspiration breathes throughout; more than any other work of modern
times it is one sprung from the genial source of a warm heart, and
cannot be heard with a tearless eye....”--The bishop of Norwich, who
in accordance with his religious bias belonged also to the party of
the opponents of the oratorio, and was therefore on a footing of
reserve with the mayor, was nevertheless desirous to make the personal
acquaintance of his celebrated guest, and sent him repeated notes of
invitation to dine with him; as these however were written in English,
they of necessity were handed to the mayor as interpreter of their
contents, who each time transmitted to him in the name of _Spohr_ a
reply excusing his inability to accept it. At length it was proposed
that he should be introduced to the bishop at one of the concerts, and
to this the mayor assented on the condition that _Spohr_ should promise
him to meet the bishop half way only, and not move a step farther
towards him, when he rose from his distant seat to approach _Spohr_.

This adherence to the stiff formality of English ceremony, which was
a special and prominent feature in the grandiose arrangements of the
mayor, was frequently the source of a variety of ludicrous scenes and
discussions. Thus it was that _Spohr_, on the first day that he had
gone to the rehearsal of his oratorio, sent thence in haste home to
his female fellow travellers, who had remained behind, two gentlemen,
strangers, with the invitation that they also should proceed thither,
to share in the impressive sight which the magnificent St. Andrew’s
Hall had presented to him immediately upon entering it. As may readily
be imagined the ladies acceded to the invitation, and accepted
unhesitatingly the attendance of the “gentlemen as yet unintroduced
to them in the house,” by which they excited the astonishment of every
one there, even to the very domestics; but they had the satisfaction
of witnessing themselves, upon arriving at the hall, the enthusiastic
reception with which the whole assembly greeted _Spohr_ upon his
entering the orchestra. Of this the “Monthly Review” speaks as follows:
“I would have wished all the world had heard the thunders of applause,
the very storm of greetings with which _Spohr_ was received by the
whole orchestra, down to the very boys of the choir. This reception
of the great man, which drew tears of emotion from the eyes of his
wife, must also have deeply moved him.” On the following evening the
first concert was to take place, and _Spohr_ was to perform in it
his concertino “Sonst und Jetzt” (“Then and Now”); but as there were
some difficult passages for the drum in it, he had requested the
attendance of the young drummer-boy at his residence in the forenoon,
in order to give him personally the necessary instructions concerning
his part. When the neat little fellow made his appearance, it was
however found that he understand no language but English, and in this
predicament he was obliged to have recourse to the assistance of the
mayor’s amiable little daughter, who then, although astonished at all
the unusual doings in her father’s house, willingly endeavoured to
explain in English to the strange boy the remarks made by _Spohr_ in
the French language, with many scientific expressions which were quite
unintelligible to herself; but which at length she effected with a
result so accordant with _Spohr’s_ wishes, that for years afterwards
he always recalled to mind with real pleasure the ludicrous but
interesting scenes of that charming effort at intercommunication.

In the evening on which the first of the six monster-concerts took
place in the spacious hall filled with nearly 3000 persons and 500
assistants, a symphony of _Haydn_ and several song pieces were first
given, among which also, the duet from Jessonda: “Schönes Mädchen”:
but then as the “Times” expressed it, “all eyes were turned with
expectancy towards the orchestra in order to greet _Spohr_ upon his
appearance with an enthusiastic applause....” “A deep silence of
suspense and expectancy reigned at the commencement of his concertino,
which he has called “Sonst und Jetzt,” in order to express the opposite
character of the themes which therein denote the different style of
the more ancient and modern compositions.” The opinion upon _Spohr’s_
play then follows in terms of the highest praise, and concludes with
the words: “His instrument speaks as eloquently to the heart as the
finest melody. The accomplished mastery of his bow as of his fingers,
is yet surpassed by the wonderful power of his _mens divinior_. The
concertino, after a short but beautiful prelude, begins with a charming
minuet of the old school, adorned with a whole wealth of harmonies,
which seem to flow of themselves from _Spohr’s_ pen; then follows a
Turkish allegro, replete with fancy and overflowing with the brilliant
lustre of modern execution.”

A letter written home and others describe the succeeding concerts: “The
first sacred concert on Wednesday morning was wonderful; it lasted from
half-past 12 to 4 clock, and comprised in the first part many fine old
things of _Purcell_, _Palästrina_ and others; and in the second and
third parts the magnificent oratorio of _Händel_: “Israel in Egypt;”
in which the choruses were executed with immense power, and the soli
by the English church-singers in the most perfect manner. _Spohr_ was
inexpressibly delighted with it, and said, “English church-singers
only are capable of rendering _Händel’s_ sublime music in all its
grandeur.” A peculiar custom which pleases me greatly is, that every
time a chorus expresses the praise of God, or in any way adverts to God
or Christ, the whole mass of people rise from their seats, and listen
to it _standing_.--The order of the musical pieces in the evening
concert was very much the same as in the previous one. It began with
_Mozart’s_ symphony in _E flat major_, which was followed by twenty
other different subjects, among which were some pieces from operas by
_Mozart_ and _Weber_, and _Spohr’s_ terzet from “Zemira and Azor,”
which is never omitted at any English musical festival. _Spohr_
played with his former pupil _Blagrove_ his charming concertante in
a surpassingly fine manner, and the effect was if possible greater
than yesterday. Our hospitable host, who is exceedingly assiduous
in his attentions, and accompanies _Spohr_ every time on going and
returning, seems also extremely happy to be near him, and to joy in
his high repute. To-day is, in the opinion of everybody, the grand
and most important day, on which _Spohr’s_ oratorio is to be given.
You all know that music, and how grand it is, but no one who was not
present, can picture to himself what it was _here_, heard in such a
place, faultlessly executed by such a mass, and listened to with such
religious attention and enthusiasm. At and after the first part one
remarked several exclamations of delight and wonder, but at the second
a solemn emotion seemed to reign throughout the whole auditory, and
more and more eyes became suffused with tears; not the women only, but
strong men were deeply moved. And such an effect I consider as the
highest and purest praise. They were happy moments for me also when
afterwards crowds of gentlemen and ladies who did not like to intrude
upon _Spohr_, came to me, to congratulate me, and assured me with much
emotion, that this was the most sublime and beautiful thing that was
ever composed, with many other similar expressions. The third part,
which _Spohr_ listened to with us with the greatest delight, comprised
the requiem of _Mozart_ and other pieces of sacred-music by _Mozart_
and _Bach_....”

The public papers gave a detailed account of the deep impression
made by _Spohr’s_ oratorio, and among others the “Norwich Mercury”
said: “The beautiful hall was crowded, nevertheless, even before the
commencement, a breathless silence prevailed; a solemn religious
sentiment reigned throughout the assembly. The inspired composer
raised his staff--the staff descended--and mournful tones, low and
faintly heard like distant wailings felt upon the ear, and made a
powerful impression on the feelings: the brilliant hall seemed as
though changed to a solemn temple--and every worldly thought was in an
instant dissipated.--The overture reveals the character of the whole;
the succeeding introductory chorus of the most agreeable softness and
purity seems to foreshadow a peace momentarily witheld from us by a
characteristic sentiment of sadness. The ensuing recitative of St.
John relates the treason of Judas, and this is immediately followed in
striking contrast by the aria of the betrayer, in which the disorder of
the mind induced by the reproofs of conscience is expressed with great
power and truth by the accompaniment. Now begins the part of Mary, with
a charming air accompanied by the female chorus, and which, replete
with tenderest devotion, appeals to our inmost feelings. In a difficult
but very expressive recitative St. John prepares us for the entry of
St. Peter, who has denied his master, and in the air sung by him,
replete with intensity of expression, the composer in good taste and
with correct judgment expresses the distinction between the reproving
conscience of the erring apostle and the preceding hopeless agony
of spirit in the betrayer. In the succeeding chorus reigns a simple
majesty, a confidant reliance upon the justice of God, the expression
of which is eminently successful.--In the scene which follows, in
which the judgment hall is opened to us and Christ denounced before
Caiphas, the inspiration of the composer has reached its culminating
point: the manifold contending passions--the fiendish excitement of the
populace, the humble resignation in the sorrow of the disciples, the
exalted resignation of the saviour--all these are brought by him with
such painful truthfulness of expression before the mind, that we feel
it impossible to approach in music nearer to reality and truth than
_Spohr_ has succeeded in doing in his treatment of this pre-eminently
tragic moment of the Redeemer’s life.

The second part begins with an introductory funeral march, and a
striking chorus of the disciples expressive of their sympathy with and
lamentations for the fate of their master. The ensuing chorus of the
priests and people, who wildly and savagely taunt the redeemer upon
the cross, is in our opinion almost the most powerful and wonderful
passage in the whole work. The moving recitative of John and Mary is,
moreover, intense in its effect, and their aria full of melody and
grace, close upon which follows the gem of the whole oratorio, the
unsurpassable terzet for two soprani and an alto, “Jesus, himmlische
Liebe” (Jesus, heavenly love), with its sweetly soothing harmonies.
This terzet is a master-piece of the purest finish; _Spohr_ himself
never wrote any thing more beautiful. The solemn earnestness of the
chorus: “Allgütiger Gott,” with the canonic entrata at the words: “In
seiner Todesnoth,” is indeed in conception and form the most original.
In masterly recitatives John prepares us for the concluding scene, and
after the last words of Jesus: “It is fulfilled,” the low sound of
distant thunder is heard, which continues as though warningly during
the fine and truly pious quartet. And now the orchestra seems to burst
all bounds, and to contend in one wild storm, which the powerful hand
of the composer can alone direct and allay. We have already heard
many musical representations of storm and tempest, but as yet nothing
at all like this; and we think that this immense effect is derived
from _Spohr’s_ seizing the powerful phenomena of nature more in their
general grandeur than in their detail. We are struck with awe at the
overpowering effect itself and with wonder at the mind that could so
apply and direct all the resources of art. A recitative with splendid
modulations leads to the short choral passage of the disciples, in
which the divinity of the Redeemer is proclaimed, simply, firmly and
powerfully. The final chorus, a prayer of the disciples full of sorrow
and hopeful faith, is simple, melodious and elevated; a poetical
outpouring in music, which must excite the sympathy of every human
being who has a trusting belief in a future life.--When the last accord
died away in its tragic grandeur, we looked around us--not a breath
was to be heard, deep silence everywhere--all were impressed with
feelings more powerful than they could express. It was a moment of holy
reverential exstacy--no noisy outburst of rapture,--the impression was
too overpowering for earthly utterance,--but it was a lasting one, and
will assuredly never be forgotten.”

The English newspapers spoke also respecting _Spohr’s_ manner of
conducting, and the “Spectator” said on the subject: “It is truly
delightful, wonderful in precision and firmness of tact, and at the
same time accompanied by motions plainly indicative of the effect
proposed.” And again: “We see in _Spohr_, a man who has a clear
comprehension of his object, and knows his work as thoroughly in all
its details as in the whole. At the rehearsal, whenever a note was
missed, he sang it, in whatever harmony it might chance to be, and in
doing so his voice was very melodious.”

The letter previously referred to says further, in reference to
the following days, under the date of September 20th: “Yesterday,
before the commencement of the evening concert, a deputation from the
committee waited upon _Spohr_ with the request to play his concertino
once more; this, however, he decidedly begged to be excused compliance
with, and the more so, as he had already agreed to direct in person
the overture to and air from “Faust,” with which the second part of
the concert began. Immediately he entered the orchestra for that
purpose, he was again greeted with loud and long continued applause,
in which doubtless the audience expressed, besides, their sense of
admiration of his oratorio, which, according to English custom, could
not be applauded at the time of performance. To-day _Händel’s_ splendid
“Messiah” was given for finale, which here also never fails to make
its constant impression. And now at length the grand festival has
terminated with all its pleasures and magnificences! It indeed required
an inspired and corporeal strength of frame such as _Spohr_ fortunately
possesses, to hear in the short space of so few days the ordeal of six
concerts of four and a half hours’ duration each, besides rehearsals
and daily dinner parties, with unimpaired freshness of spirit--not to
speak of all the visits paid him and the strangest requests from far
and near, with which he complied as far as he could. The last day with
its scenes of leavetaking, was also a very trying one to the feelings,
and cost me I must confess, many tears.--The parting from all the kind
people who, although we were strangers to them, had received us with
such great heartiness, was very painful. When next I see you I will
relate many wonderful instances of the amiability of these Englishmen,
and of their admiration of _Spohr_, which even extended itself to me.
But the estimation in which _Spohr_ is held here in England, and the
manner in which this is evinced on all sides is almost incredible”....

After so brilliant a success of _Spohr’s_ oratorio, and after he had
himself witnessed, as the “Spectator” expresses it--“How the orchestra
and singers competed to shew him that England was the country of all
others best fitted for the performance of his oratorio,” nothing could
be more agreeable to him than the proposal made to him during his stay,
to compose especially a new oratorio for the next Norwich musical
festival, which would take place in 1842.

Scarcely was he returned to Cassel than professor _Taylor_ sent him the
English text of “The fall of Babylon,” of his composition, the text
of which, though much to _Spohr’s_ liking, it was necessary first to
have translated into German, as he had not confidence sufficient in his
knowledge of the English language to undertake the composition from the
original text. Though the translation did not so completely succeed
in a truthful rendering of the expressions and rhythm of the English
text, as that this could subsequently be adapted to the composition
without much alteration, it nevertheless sufficed so well for the
desired object that _Spohr_ could proceed at once upon a work which
so greatly interested him. Filled with real inspiration for the task,
he devoted thereto every leisure hour that remained to him from his
numerous professional duties, nor did he rest until he had completed
the whole and satisfied himself with its performance on the pianoforte
at the St. Cecilia festival of 1840, that he had fully succeeded in it.
In pursuance of an understanding with the Norwich committee a public
performance of it with full orchestra was to take place in Cassel
on the ensuing Good Friday of 1841 and a second at Easter 1842, but
with these exceptions the work was to remain unused and in abeyance
until the Norwich festival in the autumn of the latter year, and then
first be made public simultaneously in England and Germany in both
languages.--

But to return to the year 1840, which _Spohr_ entered upon with great
activity in the preparatory studies for the representation of the opera
“The Lovers’ Duel,” which till then had never been performed in Cassel;
for the principal characters of which he had just then found suitable
performers. The first representation took place for the benefit of
the relief fund, and with a very full house brought unusually good
receipts, which however unfortunately were extracted from the treasury
of the theatre on the following night in the most incomprehensible
manner, and despite the well-secured locality in which the money was
deposited. But a very small amount could then be collected to replace
this loss to the relief fund, a circumstance which greatly marred the
satisfaction _Spohr_ had derived from the success of his opera, which
had met with a most gratifying reception from the public.

About this time _Spohr_ received an invitation from Aix-la-Chapelle to
direct the musical festival of the district of the Lower Rhine, which
was to be held there; on which occasion a very pressing solicitation
for his leave of absence was addressed to the Prince on the part of the
committee. This memorial had the desired effect; for shortly afterwards
the Prince sent for _Spohr_, and tendered him of his own accord in the
most friendly manner the leave of absence he had not yet solicited.

As every obstacle was now smoothed away, _Spohr_ set out upon his
journey at the end of May, and was not only received upon his arrival
in Aix-la-Chapelle with serenades of welcome, but also on his putting
up for each night at Frankfort and Cologne on his journey through. In
the splendidly furnished house of the notary _Pascal_, in which Mr.
and Mrs. _Spohr_ found a most hospitable reception, the succeeding
days devoted to the necessary rehearsals passed quickly and agreeably.
On Whitsunday, in the theatre, which had been converted into a
music saloon, _Händel’s_ “Judas Maccabeus” was performed, of which
some epistolary notices spoke as follows: “When _Spohr_ entered the
orchestra to conduct the oratorio he was received with enthusiastic
applause; we had the best places in the first row reserved for us,
exactly opposite to where the very prettily arranged mass of five
hundred and forty-seven co-operators, brilliantly illuminated,
presented a very charming coup d’œil. The music, which had already
greatly pleased us by its splendid effect in the rehearsals, was now
naturally heard to yet greater advantage. The solo singers--Mrs.
_Fischer-Achten_, _Albertazzi_ and _Müller_, Mr. _de Vrucht_ from
Amsterdam and Mr. _Fischer_--good as they were on the whole, did not
make upon us the same impression of _finished_ excellence as did the
choruses, which completely charmed us. In the second concert also, in
which besides _Spohr’s_ “Lord’s Prayer,” the overture to “Medea,” the
_A major_ symphony of _Beethoven_, and _Mozart’s Davidde penitente_,
were performed, _Spohr_ upon every entry and exit was greeted with
unbounded applause, and at the termination a wreath of laurel was
presented to him by two young ladies. In the third concert, of a
mixed character, Mrs. _Fischer-Achten_, and _Albertazzi_, with the
celebrated _Staudigl_ of Vienna, were respectively heard and excited
general admiration. The singing of all three, was each in its kind
what may be termed of the most perfect finish. As worthy finale to the
whole, the repetition of the last magnificent chorus from _Spohr’s_
“Lord’s Prayer” followed, which again drew from the audience the most
enthusiastic bursts of applause....”

As on the following forenoon the brothers _Müller_ of Brunswick gave a
quartet concert in the “Redoutensaal,” _Spohr_ delayed his departure,
at their urgent entreaty, in order to play his third double quartet
with them, which was again also rewarded with its usual rapturous
ovation. In this manner was this grand festival brought to a successful
termination, and the general satisfaction which it had elicited was
but little detracted from by the reproving voice of Mr. _A. Schindler_,
whose _cartes de visites_ made him known as “_ami de Beethoven_,” and
who in previous musical festivals had begun to distinguish himself
by his disputes with _Mendelssohn_ respecting his slow tempi in the
conducting of works of _Beethoven’s_, and now also in a similar manner
found fault with _Spohr_ for his manner of conducting the _A major_
symphony. This--with the exception of the general disapprobation that
it elicited--had no further result than that _Spohr_, at the urgent
and reiterated desire of the committee, replied to _Schindler_ in a
short but decisive letter, but which, couched in _Spohr’s_ usual mild
language, did not disturb the personal understanding of either during
the festival.

After a few week’s return only, to Cassel, and during the theatrical
vacation, _Spohr_ set out upon another journey and proceeded first to
Gandersheim, where all his brothers with their families were assembled,
to pay a last visit to their mother, who was dangerously ill, and who,
in spite of her suffering condition, felt extreme pleasure in seeing
them round her. Although she had not left her room for several weeks,
and had therefore been unable to go up stairs to the upper story of
the house, yet when she heard that _Spohr_ was going to play something
with his wife in the music-room there, she requested to be assisted to
get up there, “to hear her loved son for the last time, and in fancy to
dream away in listening to his tones;” and upon that occasion, seated
in the midst of her children, listened to him with joyful emotion and
interest. As on the days immediately ensuing a visible improvement in
her condition seemed to have taken place _Spohr_, in full hopes of
greeting his mother once more upon his return, continued his journey to
Lübeck with a mind more at rest. But alas! his hopes were not realised,
for before he returned to Gandersheim he received the lamentable
announcement of her death!

From Lübeck _Spohr_ proceeded to Hamburg, where he arrived just
in time to undertake the direction of his opera “Jessonda.” The
performance of the opera, in which Mrs. _Walker_ as Jessonda, and
Mr. _Reichel_ as Dandau, especially distinguished themselves, was in
every respect a great success, and there were immense applause and
loud demonstrations in honour of _Spohr_. As it took place immediately
after the close of the performances of the Italian operas, the
“Hamburger Zeitung” gave a comparative notice in its next issue of
these two different kinds of musical entertainment. It began with
the words: “On Saturday the whole song-loving company of Italian
operatic performers departed in high spirits; on Sunday, _Spohr_ the
German master took the director’s chair in the town theatre to conduct
his splendid “Jessonda” in person. With the _former_, abundance of
noise, merriment, and somewhat of dissension, to-do, and submissive
politeness--but _here_, calm, noble dignity, honest thanks, becoming
demeanour, and permanent merit &c.” Further on it adds: “The lovers of
music in Hamburg celebrated on Sunday a real musical festival in the
theatre; they were not only enabled to express aloud their recognition
of the German master, but they had the opportunity also of drawing a
comparison between ‘Jessonda’ and ‘Lucretia Borgia.’ In ‘Jessonda’
all is tender yearning, and sweet hope, the golden age of fond first
love: in “Lucretia Borgia” Hyena-like cunning in the poison-envenomed
breast; nothing of love’s purity, love’s grosser passion alone; and
in the same relative characteristic proportion is the poesy of the
music.” No one experienced more delight at this new triumph of _Spohr_
than his enthusiastic admirer _Julius Schuberth_, the well-known music
publisher, under whose hospitable roof _Spohr_ and his travelling
companions spent most agreeably the four days of their stay in
Hamburgh, which their kind host strove by every possible means, to
render a series of festive pleasures and of distinguishing attentions.
Among others a brilliant musical party was got up in which _Spohr_
performed some of his quartetts, and was greatly charmed with Miss
_Unna’s_ beautiful execution in his quintet for the pianoforte.

Upon this occasion _Schuberth_ expressed so great a wish to publish
some similar grander pianoforte pieces of _Spohr’s_ composition, that
the latter was induced to write shortly after his return from Hamburg,
his first trio for pianoforte, violin and violincello, and therewith
at the same time fulfilled a wish that had been for years reiterated
by Mrs. _de Malsburg_, the distinguished dilettante pianiste, to whom
he then dedicated the work. This first trio by _Spohr_ (Op. 119) was
welcomed with great satisfaction by the musical world, and numerous
journals far and near expressed their delight and thanks upon its
appearance. The “Leipzic New Musical Journal” speaks of it in the
following terms: “Although the great master has never written any thing
of this kind until now, he nevertheless moves in this new _genre_ with
true artistic consciousness of power, and with genial freedom. The trio
is one of the finest productions of the genius of _Spohr_, in which
together with the greatest possible finish in form, a profusion of
beauties of the first class, and master strokes of genius stand out in
prominent relief. As the gem of the whole the scherzo and its trio must
be mentioned. Here, as though at the stroke of the magician’s wand, a
fairy island of the blessed rises to the imagination,--we are environed
as though by a garden of wonders, a blooming oasis of sound full of
the deep glowing splendour of oriental colouring!... It is moreover
exceedingly remarkable how _Spohr_ here understood the way to unite two
elements which are otherwise strangers and indeed usually antagonistic
to each other: the _humoristic_ and the _impassioned_, _elegiacally
tender_ element of _feeling_....”

At the commencement of the year 1841 _Spohr_ wrote a fantasia for
pianoforte and violin on themes from his opera “Der Alchymist” (The
Alchymist), the charming melodies of which were especially favourable
to such a reconstruction (Op. 117, Vienna, published by _Mechetti_);
an English psalm for soli, with chorus and organ accompaniment (Op.
122, published by _Simrock_ of Bonn); and a song, “Schill,” for
men’s voices, with accompaniment of military music, written for the
inauguration of _Schill’s_ asylum for invalids at Brunswick, and which
was next publicly given by the Casseler glee society at a concert for
charitable purposes, and met with such general approbation that _Spohr_
conceived the idea of sending it to Frankfort and therewith fulfil his
promise of a contribution to the “Collection of small compositions
to the _Mozart_ institution.” Upon the same occasion he replied to a
question which had been put to him concerning a qualified candidate
to the first stipend paid by that institution, by recommending _Jean
Bott_ of Cassel, although but 14 years of age, and wrote of him in the
following terms: “_Bott_ is a virtuose on the violin and pianoforte
and even now displays so remarkable a talent for composition, that I
anticipate for him a brilliant future. He has been a pupil of mine on
the violin for the last six months, and I never yet had one so clever.
_Hauptmann_ (his instructor in composition) says the same of him.”
Supported by such distinguished recommendations the young musician,
after the works which he had sent in had been submitted to the test,
received the desired stipend for one year, followed up his studies
under _Spohr_ and _Hauptmann_ with great zeal, and while yet a boy
received an appointment in the Cassel “Hofkapelle.”

As _Spohr_ had proposed to himself to pass the theatrical vacation
this time in a trip to Switzerland, he determined upon going thither
by the way of Stuttgard and Hechingen, in order to make the personal
acquaintance of the reigning Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, who
at various times had written to him, and shown himself to be an
enthusiastic lover of music by expressing his admiration of _Spohr’s_
“Weihe der Töne” in terms of great praise.

As _Spohr’s_ intended visit at Hechingen was known beforehand he was
welcomed there upon his arrival in the most heartfelt manner. What
took place during their stay here was thus described in a letter
written home: “On the very first evening Kapellmeister _Täglichsbeck_
and Court-Councillor _Schilling_ came to fetch us from Stuttgard, to
drive us about the town, and for the purpose, as they said, of showing
us the new concert-hall. But on our arrival there, to our surprise we
found a numerous company assembled, and we were received by the Prince
in the most gracious and friendly manner.” After a short conversation,
he led _Spohr_ to an elevated platform, upon which the whole orchestra
were assembled, and in front the _head Pastor, Reiners_ (who was also
contrebassist in the orchestra), who then adressed _Spohr_ in a solemn
and very impressive speech of welcome, at the conclusion of which
the hall resounded with such an outburst of enthusiastic greetings,
accompanied by music, that one might have thought it was filled with
thousands of spectators. After this the Prince seated himself near
_Spohr_, and to our great surprise and pleasure his splendid fifth
symphony (_C minor_) fell upon the ear, and was performed throughout
with the greatest finish and inspiration. During its performance the
Prince evinced feelings of delight such as we had never yet witnessed,
he could scarcely control himself; held _Spohr_ constantly by the arm
or hand, and not only whispered to him his admiration at every passage,
but frequently gave expression to his feelings aloud....

When the Prince had ascertained whether _Spohr_ would sup or not in
the dining-room below, he gave orders for a place to be reserved for
him next to _Spohr_, although, as sovereign Prince, he had never yet
partaken of a meal in a tavern. This supper was most remarkable and
amusing: besides the Prince, who sat between me and _Spohr_, and was
very lively, the whole _beau monde_ of Hechingen was assembled to see
_Spohr_, and each ordered supper according to his own fancy. Gentlemen
of the chamber, clergymen, councillors, and their wives, mingled
_pêle mêle_, did and said a thousand humorous things, and evinced an
extraordinary musical enthusiasm. _Spohr_ also was greatly pleased to
have made the acquaintance of this happy, music-mad little spot of
Germany. Music, particularly that of _Spohr_, is everything here, and
ladies and gentlemen know his symphonies and quartets in a manner such
as very few in Cassel know them. If at eleven o’clock at night we had
not risen to depart, in spite of the Prince, he would not have done
so, for he is quite in love with _Spohr_. On the following morning
before eight o’clock some one knocked again at our door, and his serene
highness entered to enquire how we had slept in Hechingen. He then
took us into the palace gardens and into the very pretty little palace
itself, where we were to rehearse our trio for the music party that had
been agreed upon for the evening. When we had played through the first
part, he availed himself of the short pause to fetch his wife also,
that she might share his pleasure, and thus we were saved the already
arranged formalities of a court presentation.... We were invited to
dinner at _Täglichsbeck’s_; but scarcely was the dinner over, than the
Prince came again with two court carriages, in which the whole company
drove to the charming country palace “Lindig,” the beautiful view
round which filled us all, and _Spohr_ especially, with the greatest
delight....” Of the evening court-party that followed, the same letter
says: “In a vaulted saloon built especially for musical performances a
double quartet was first played by _Spohr_ in a manner quite wonderful,
then the Prince sang several songs with much expression, and at last
came our trio. The company, consisting mostly of officials and of but
few musicians, was in raptures of delight, and gave evidence in their
remarks of much musical intelligence. At last supper was served up at
small separate tables each accommodating four persons; at the chief
table _Spohr_ was shewn to a seat next to the Princess, who evinced
great amiability and kindness towards him, while the Prince in the best
of spirits was my neighbour.

Our departure was fixed for the following morning, but the Prince
declaring that he could not yet part with _Spohr_, expressed the
intention of accompanying him one post, and then of dining with us once
more, and “not to appear egotistical, to enjoy the pleasure alone,”
invited a whole party, who were to accompany us in his carriage. Two
gentlemen were sent on in our carriage, to order a dinner for sixteen
persons at the small town of Balingen three leagues distant.... During
the dinner, which consisted of a great number of excellent dishes, and
at which also the champaign, brought from the Prince’s cellars, was not
wanting, the conversation was extremely lively and seasoned with many
witty sallies, but always intermingled with the prominent sentiment
of that musical enthusiasm, in which the Prince is really imbued to a
singular degree.

At length however the long-deferred parting moment arrived! The
cheerful voice grew silent, and a mournful stillness came over all; the
Prince was quite beside himself; he embraced _Spohr_ repeatedly, and
when we had at length taken our seats in the carriage, he was once more
surrounded by the company, and the Prince declared in the name of all
that these days which had brought such happiness to Hechingen should be
commemorated the following year by a festival.”

Carrying with him the most agreable recollections of the time they
had passed there, _Spohr_ and his wife now resumed their journey to
Switzerland, the chief object of which was to enjoy the beauties
of nature; but they were also enabled to combine therewith a visit
to the musical festival which was about to take place at Lucerne.
Although _Spohr_ had declined the invitation which he had received
at Cassel to direct at the festival, it afforded him nevertheless
much pleasure to be present at it among the auditory. On the first
day his oratorio: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden,” was performed in the
fine church of St. Xavier, in which the solo parts were sustained
chiefly by dilettanti, with the exception of that of Mary, by Mrs.
_Stockhausen_, who had already acquired great celebrity in it at the
Norwich festival, and all of whom sang “with truly angelic voices.” The
choruses also, were excellent, and the orchestra only did not quite
satisfy _Spohr’s_ artistic expectations. The oratorio excited here also
general enthusiasm, but the travellers missed here “the deep devotion,
the christian-like comprehension and pious mental resignation,” which
they had remarked in the English auditory of the year before. The
oratorio was followed by a brilliant festal overture by _Lindpaintner_
and another oratorio, the “Christi Himmelfahrt” (the Ascension), by
_Neukomm_, at which the composer was also present, and was greatly
gratified by _Spohr’s_ approbation, who praised the choruses and the
fugues. In the second concert, which was a miscellaneous one, the songs
sung by Mrs. _Stockhausen_ (mother of the recently celebrated baritone)
were the points of attraction; but two distinguished dilletanti, doctor
_Ziegler_ and his sister, from Winterthur, were likewise much applauded
in the duet from “Jessonda.”

On the return journey from Switzerland, _Spohr_ stopped for a few days
in Frankfort, in order to be present at the performance of _Gluck’s_
“Iphigenia in Aulis.” The chief characters, Iphigenia and Agamemnon
were ably represented by Miss _Capitän_ and Mr. _Pischek_, and it
afforded the more pleasure to _Spohr_ to hear the noble simplicity of
this fine music rendered in a satisfactory manner, as his repeated
endeavours to introduce an opera of _Gluck_ into the repertory of the
Cassel theatre had been always unsuccessful, and he could not hope for
any better success for the future.

Scarcely was _Spohr_ returned to Cassel than he began with great zeal
a new work, the plan of which he had conceived upon the journey, while
in view of the magnificent Swiss mountains and lakes. When once more
seated with his wife in the carriage, on his return from the Lucern
musical festival, he told her with the greatest joy, that, inspired
and refreshed with all the beautiful and pleasing impressions made
upon him by nature and art combined,--he felt the strongest impulse to
write a truly grand orchestral work, and if possible in some new and
more extended form of the symphony. On the half-sportive reply which
she made to him: “If the simple symphony does not give sufficient
scope to your creative faculty, then write a double symphony for
two orchestras, in the style of the double quartet,” he seized the
suggestion immediately with much warmth and thereupon sank into a deep
reverie, as though he were already beginning the composition, but soon
after, added: that, exceedingly attractive as the problem was, it could
only be successfully carried out if made subservient to the expression
of a determinate idea--and that two orchestras should have given to
them respectively the expression of a meaning and sentiment in strong
contrast with each other. After long reflection and study; and after
successive rejection of many self-proposed formulæ, he at length, as
though by inspiration, seized the idea: to represent the two principles
of good and evil in the human heart by the two orchestras, and to
give the name to the double symphony of “Irdisches und Göttliches im
Menschenleben” (the earthly and the divine in the life of man). The
first subject should be called “Kinderwelt” (the world of childhood);
the second “Zeit der Leidenschaften” (the age of the passions); the
third “Endlicher Sieg des Göttlichen” (the final victory of the divine
principle); besides which a special explanatory motto was to be given
to each theme. After this manner the plan was conceived with a heart
overflowing with pleasure, and then carried out with real enthusiasm.
As regards the opinion respecting the degree of success with which
he achieved the performance of so extremely difficult a task--that
was of course a matter to be left entirely to the individuality of
the hearers; but in the first performance of the work in Cassel under
his own direction and in the spirit of its composer, it excited the
greatest admiration in an attentively listening auditory; for while
connoisseurs acknowledged the excellence of the music, apart from its
special motive or subject, the feelings of the uninitiated were in a
high degree moved and satisfied. Such is the report of it contained in
one letter out of many written at that time: “Last evening _Spohr’s_
new double symphony for two orchestras took place; the larger and more
numerously filled orchestra represented the evil principle, the small
one, consisting only of eleven solo instruments represented on the
contrary the principle of good. In the subject “The world of childhood”
the latter orchestra maintains the superiority in a marked and
especial manner; sweet, innocent melodies bring back to us in the most
enchanting manner the joys of childhood--its pretty sports, and wiles
seem to rise before our vision, and we feel ourselves wholly wrapped
in the bright dreams of the past; but the tones of the great orchestra
remind us sorrowfully of the reality, and of the struggles of an
earthly life scarcely yet begun. This subject, although gaiety is the
prominent characteristic, yet speaks to us with a peculiar purity and
tenderness of sentiment; and of a surety only a soul as pure and loving
as that of our _Spohr_ could so depict in tones the tenderness of the
world of childhood.

The second subject: “The victory of the passions,” begins with a very
beautiful soft duet between hautboy and clarinet (depicting the first
awakening of love), then soon the two orchestras mingle, as it were,
wildly and stormily, a true picture of the human heart in the contests
of this life; now here now there, the small orchestra is carried away
with it, but even then it does not wholly cease to intervene as the
good genius with moving and at times warning tones of tenderness. This
subject, which is very rich in ideas and harmonies, appeared most to
carry away the mass of the public, but the deepest impression made
upon every sensitive heart was that made by the third theme: “Eventual
victory of the divine principle.” In this, the warning voice of the
small orchestra becomes continually more impressive, the earthly
passions for the most part become gradually subdued, one almost seems
to feel how their force is broken, and then again at frequent intervals
they seem to rally, until the solemn moment, in which after a general
pause both orchestras at length, in solemn unison of accords announce
the victory achieved by the good genius in all its power. From that
point nothing but pious, pleasing sounds, as though from the realms
of bliss, are heard, now alternately and now from both orchestras in
unison, leading as it were the strangely-moved feelings of the auditory
to the soft consolatory finale.”

Notices of a similar character--sometimes estimating the work from a
purely human, at others from an artistic point of view were received
from all sides after the appearance of the symphony, published as Op.
121, by _Schuberth_ of Hamburgh; and then it soon became extensively
circulated in the larger towns of Germany and England. This sufficed
to afford _Spohr_ the personal satisfaction, that in whichever way his
intentions were considered, they were upon the whole rightly understood
and estimated.

In November of the same year the Cassel musical world was thrown into
a state of joyful excitement by the arrival of _Lisst_, who had gained
the most enthusiastic applause in two concerts, which he gave in the
theatre. Previous to his appearance in public, the more restricted
circle of the lovers of music, had been greatly gratified by hearing
him execute _Spohr’s_ quintet for the pianoforte at a music party given
by _Spohr_ for his entertainment, at which he played also several of
his own compositions in an insurpassibly masterly style. _Spohr_ took
the liveliest interest in the performances of his colleague in art, but
he paid him the tribute of his highest admiration for his wonderful
playing _at sight_; and in after years, as a proof of _Lisst’s_ eminent
talent in this respect also, he would cheerfully relate, how at a
private soiree at Mrs. _von der Malsburg’s_, accompanied by _Spohr_ on
the violin, _Lisst_ played his “Reisesonata” and his only just then
published fantasia from the “Alchymist,” which was therefore _wholly
unknown_ to _Lisst_, but which to the great astonishment of all the
auditory he played at sight with the most perfect finish.

On the 5th. December of this year the fiftieth anniversary of the death
of _Mozart_ was everywhere solemnized by the lovers of music; but as
no public festival could be held in Cassel, _Spohr_ got up a private
performance of the society of St. Cecilia for the benefit of the poor,
which was of a most solemn and impressive character. In the centre
of the saloon the bust of _Mozart_, crowned with a laurel wreath,
surmounted an altar hung with black drapery; on one side of the altar
was assembled the numerous auditory, and on the other the singers in
deep mourning. The “_Ave verum_” of _Mozart_ was first sung; then a
short oration _in memoriam_ followed, and the conclusion was formed by
the swan-song of the departed master, his immortal requiem.

In the beginning of the year 1842, _Spohr_ composed six four
part-songs, for soprano, alto, tenor and bass (Op. 120, published by
_Appel_ in Cassel), then his second trio for pianoforte, violin and
violincello, which in the course of the year was followed by a third.
These were published by _J. Schuberth_ as Op. 123 and 124.

As during the winter _Spohr_ had felt returning symptoms of his former
liver-complaint, he availed himself this time of the summer vacation
to go to Carlsbad, to drink the waters; but on the journey thither, at
the pressing invitation of Mr. _von Holleben_, an acquaintance of his
youth, and now, grand-master of the hunt at Rudolstadt, he paid him
a visit. In the amiable family circle of his early friend the hours
passed quickly and pleasantly in the retrospect of their youthful
associations, and in the interchange of narratives and incidents of
their later life; but amid all these, music was not wanting; and to
hear it each time, an increased number of the lovers of music were
invited. At these parties _Spohr_ willingly played several of his
newest compositions, and more especially afforded universal pleasure
with the two trios, in which his wife took the pianoforte part. Upon
these occasions he had more especially an enthusiastic auditress in the
Princess von Bückeburg, who then resided in Rudolstadt, and who was
very desirous of giving a fête at her own house in honour _Spohr_, had
not Mrs. _von Holleben_, as she afterwards related with much triumph,
following the example of the mayor of Norwich (whose comical proceeding
towards the bishop of that place _Spohr_ had previously narrated with
much humour), declined in the name of her guests, although without
previously enquiring of them, every invitation that they received.

During the succeeding month’s stay in Carlsbad, _Spohr_ followed up
most conscientiously the prescribed use of the baths and waters, and,
besides the enjoined morning walks of several hours’ duration, he after
dinner made more distant excursions into the beautiful and by him
already previously so much admired environs. Between whiles, however,
he managed to devote many hours to the study and practice of his noble
art, playing assiduously with his wife, and charming the circle of his
more immediate acquaintance with his play. He was forbidden, while
taking the waters, to indulge even in a slight degree his constant
impulse to the composition of something new; nevertheless during this
time he composed a song: “Tears,” by _Chamisso_, which afterwards
appeared in the “Album of Song” of _Rudolf Hirsch_ (published by
_Bösenberg_ of Leipzic).

On his return to Cassel, _Spohr_ was painfully moved by the
intelligence of the approaching departure of his friend _Hauptmann_,
who had accepted the proffered appointment of Cantor at the _Thomas
School_ in Leipzic. However heartily he might have rejoiced to see
_Hauptmann_ exchange his place in the court orchestra of Cassel for
one so much more befitting and worthy of him, yet for the moment
the sentiment of sorrow was the prominent feeling, he that would
thenceforth be bereft of the society and intercourse of a man, who
through a period of twenty years had stood so near to him both as
friend and as colleague in art. As _Hauptmann_ was an active and
highly esteemed member of the St. Cecilia society, upon _Spohr’s_
proposition, a farewell festival in his honour was given, at which the
musical part of the entertainment consisted chiefly of _Hauptmann’s_
compositions. But as _Spohr_ was desirous of contributing at least one
musical piece having especial reference to the occasion, he made choice
of the pretty cantata composed by him for the “Golden Wedding” of his
parents, which, with altogether new and appropriate words, inspired all
hearers with the more interest as _Spohr_ took upon himself the violin
obligato part that formed the accompaniment to the pianoforte.

Towards the end of the year _Spohr_ wrote a “concert overture in
the serious style” (Op. 121, at _Siegel’s_, in Leipzic), which was
performed at the first of the Casseler subscription concerts, and
shortly afterwards at the Gewandhaus concert in Leipzic, and at both
places produced the earnest and grandiose effect which the composer
had in view. He next, at the repeated solicitations of publisher and
friends, tried his hand at a species of composition which he had never
till then tried, a sonata for the _pianoforte alone_, which after
having accomplished to his satisfaction, he resolved to dedicate to
his friend _Mendelssohn_. The latter having been made acquainted with
it, wrote to him immediately and accompanied the expression of his
thanks “for the high and distinguishing honour” with the following
words: “If I could but express to you, how deeply I feel what it is to
be thus able to call one of your works one’s own particular property,
and how my heart joys not alone in the distinction conferred, but
equally in your friendly thought of me, and your constant desire for
my welfare. A thousand thanks to you for it, dear Mr. Kapellmeister,
and rest assured that to the best of my ability I will endeavour to
make my now obstinate fingers bring out the beauties of the sonata
properly. But that is again only a pleasure that I shall be doing
myself, and I should so like to render you one in return for it,”
&c. The “obstinate fingers” must nevertheless have soon succumbed to
the will of the master, for when upon a subsequent visit to Leipzic,
_Spohr_ had the gratification of hearing him play the sonata, it was
everything he could have wished, and he recognised in such an execution
the ideal which when composing it his fancy had conceived. Shortly
afterwards, when it was brought out by _Mechetti_ of Vienna, as Op.
125, and thereby became more widely known, _Spohr_ received many
gratifying notices of it from all sides. But he was especially taken
by surprise on the receipt of a letter from Hungary, enthusiastic in
admiration of the sonata, from the to him wholly unknown director of
the choir, _Seyler_, of the Cathedral of Gran, in which he says among
other things: “Times innumerable, in the hours when my duties permit
me some relaxation, do I charm myself at the piano with that sonata
you dedicated to Mr. _Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_. Carried away by the
magic of its tones I now take up the pen, in behalf of all pianists
of feeling who may not always have the opportunity to be enchanted by
your greater musical productions, to render you the warmest thanks
for this beautiful work.... I would moreover earnestly entreat you to
let me know whether we pianists may encourage the hope of having such
another composition, with which with two hands alone, we may discourse
with the spirit of the world-famed German hero of musical science?”
&c. Although this and many other similar testimonies might have fully
removed _Spohr’s_ former doubts as to whether he could contribute
anything sufficiently satisfactory as a composer for the pianoforte,
yet as may be readily imagined it was more in his interest to give his
sole attention to the violin as concerted with pianoforte music; and
his next works were six duets for pianoforte and violin (Op. 127),
but which he could not finish and send in to his publisher _Julius
Schuberth_ of Hamburgh, who awaited them with much impatience, till
after the lapse of several months, as just at that time he was more
than usually occupied in perfecting his orchestra in the study of
several larger works. He first of all wished to give _Bach’s_ “Passion”
on the coming Good Friday, and although, with the same intention he had
previously rehearsed it several times with all the musical strength he
could enlist in Cassel, yet years had since then elapsed; and it cost
him a very great exertion of his patience and perseverance to bring his
orchestra and singers up to such a pitch of excellence as to ensure the
public performance of that extremely difficult music in a creditable
and worthy manner.

After _Spohr_ had toiled for long months in practising the choruses and
the long-wished-for day of performance was drawing nearer and nearer,
the required permission of the Prince was suddenly refused, without any
reason being assigned for it; and it was not until a second application
had been sent in, accompanied (to meet all eventualities) by a
certificate of the clergyman, that he considered “the music selected
for performance perfectly fitted for the church and for the day,” that
the desired permission was granted; and that to the great satisfaction
of _Spohr_ and every lover of music in Cassel, it could be performed on
the day appointed. But these obstacles repeatedly thrown in the way of
its production were very nearly the cause of _Spohr’s_ total departure
from Cassel, for at that very time he again received from Prague a very
advantageous offer of appointment there, respecting which he wrote as
follows to his friend _Hauptmann_: “I am so weary of all the vexations
I meet with here that even at my time of life I could almost make up
my mind to leave this place, were not my wife so much attached to
her family, and that she would be unhappy away from her friends. The
opportunity now presents itself in an offer from the states of Bohemia
of the post of director of the Prague conservatory of music vacant
by the death of _Dionys Weber_, as an indemnifaction for the salary
I should throw up here. Such a field for exertion and a residence
in musical Prague would suit me well. But under the circumstances
adverted to above I must of course decline it....” In _Hauptmann’s_
very explicit reply to this he says among other things: “By _Spohr’s_
leaving under the pressure of such existing circumstances, Cassel will
become a desert as regards music,” but he nevertheless advises him to
leave it without hesitation, and “will not yet relinquish the thought
to see him move away from good, beautiful but _oppressed_ Cassel, to
majestic Prague.”

But as _Spohr_ in the meanwhile had come to a decision, and of his own
impulse allowed his kindly consideration for his wife and her parents
to prevail with him, their daily intercourse having become with him
also a pleasurable habit, he wrote back in his reply the following few
but characteristic words: “The interest and sympathy, which breathes
throughout your kind letter was most gratifying to me also in regard
to the Prague business. But I had already made up my mind in the
interim, and I am glad that my answer declining the offer had been sent
to Prague, before my father-in-law knew anything about it, or with
tears in his eyes could have to thank me for my decision....”--In this
manner _Spohr_ remained in Cassel, to which he had become attached as
to a second home, and he continued to discharge his duties with his
customary zeal.

He now again gave his attention to the study of a difficult work:
“The flying Dutchman” of _Richard Wagner_, which _Spohr_ proposed to
himself to bring out as a festival opera for Whitmonday, having heard
much in its praise from Dresden, and upon perusal of the libretto,
which had been sent to him, had found the subject so satisfactory
in every respect, that he pronounced it a little master-piece, and
regretted, “not to have met with a similar and as good a one to set to
music, ten years before.” When at the rehearsals he had become more
closely acquainted with the opera, he wrote to _Lüder_ respecting it,
and invited him to the approaching performance in Cassel: “This work,
although somewhat approaching the new-romantic music _à la Berlioz_,
and although it has given me immense work on account of its extreme
difficulty, interests me nevertheless in the highest degree, for it is
written apparently with true inspiration--and unlike so much of the
modern opera music, does not display in every bar the striving after
effect, or effort to please. There is a great deal of the fanciful
therein; a noble conception throughout, it is well written for the
singer; enormously difficult it is true, and somewhat overcharged in
the instrumentation, but full of new effects, and will assuredly,
when it once comes to be performed in the greater space of a theatre
be thoroughly clear and intelligible. The theatre rehearsals begin at
the end of this week, and I am exceedingly desirous to see how the
fantastic subject and the still more fantastic music will come off _en
scène_. I think I am so far correct in my judgment, when I consider
_Wagner_ as the most gifted of all our _dramatic_ composers of the
present time. In this work at least his aspirations are noble, and
that pleases me at a time when all depends upon creating a sensation,
or in effecting the merest ear-tickling,” &c. Notwithstanding the
apparent almost insurmountable difficulties, _Spohr_ succeeded in
giving one performance, which left nothing to be desired, and the work
was most favourably received by the public. In full satisfaction to the
author he felt impelled to write to _Wagner_ to make him acquainted
with it; upon which the latter in the fulness of his joy replied: “My
very esteemed sir and master, I was really obliged to recover myself
somewhat from the joy--from the rapture I may say--which your extremely
kind letter afforded me, before I could undertake to write, and
express to you the gratitude of my heart.... In order to enable you to
understand the extraordinary emotion your intelligence produced in me,
I must first calmly explain what were my expectations in regard to the
success of this opera. From the unusually great difficulties which it
presented I could expect but little from it, however good the musical
and dramatic strength with which it might be put upon the stage, unless
there was a man at their head who, endowed with peculiar energetic
capacity and goodwill, would espouse my interests with predilection and
in the face of every obstacle. That you, my highly-esteemed master,
possessed beyond all others the qualifications for so energetic a
direction, I well knew,--but whether you would consider my work
sufficiently worthy of your attention to take so decided an interest in
it, that was certainly the very natural doubt that made me despair more
and more, the nearer the day of its announced performance approached;
so that I confess I had not the courage to go to Cassel, to become
personally a witness to my shame and to the realisation of all my
fears. But I now see indeed that a lucky star has risen over me, since
I have gained the sympathy of a man from whom an indulgent notice only
would have been sufficient fame for me:--but to see him take the most
decisive and crowning measures in my behalf, is a piece of good fortune
which assuredly distinguishes me above many, and which really for
the first time fills me with a sentiment of pride, such as hitherto
no applause of the public could have awakened in me” &c. With equal
gratitude and kindliness _Wagner_ acknowledged the correctness of the
omissions made by _Spohr_ in the opera, in the which he “recognised but
further proof of the true interest he had evinced for him,” and this he
reiterated in all his subsequent letters with the warmest expressions
of attachment and esteem.

With the commencement of the theatrical vacation, _Spohr_ made
preparations for the journey to London, where he hoped to receive
satisfaction for the disappointment of the refusal of leave absence
in the previous autumn, to proceed to Norwich to conduct the
much-talked-of performance of his oratorio, “The fall of Babylon.” For
months previously the committee had applied to that effect through the
embassy at Cassel, to the Prince, but had met with a summary refusal,
upon which _Spohr_ received several letters from England, expressing
how much they felt aggrieved by it, and lord _Aberdeen_ especially,
who had authorised the application to the Prince through the medium of
the English embassy. Upon this the committee met in Norwich and sent a
deputation to London to the duke of Cambridge, who expressed himself
willing to write personally to the Prince in the most pressing terms.
But without avail; after a lapse of two months his application was
refused also, and both he and the whole royal family were not a little
hurt by it. In Norwich, meanwhile, it was thought that every means had
not yet been exhausted, and to _Spohr’s_ extreme surprise he suddenly
received an enormous petition signed by a considerable number of the
inhabitants of Norwich, beseeching the Prince in the interests of that
city to allow _Spohr_ to direct his oratorio there. Although he himself
had now little hope of a favourable issue to this prayer, he was
nevertheless greatly moved by the receipt of so imposing a document,
and awaited a reply with the greatest anxiety. This however did not
come; but the Hessian minister for foreign affairs, _von Steuber_,
wrote the following letter to the wife of Mr. _von der Malsburg_, grand
marshall of the court, by whom the petition had been presented: “I
have to announce to your Excellency that I delivered the petition in
question, and urged personally all the circumstances detailed therein,
but as you yourself feared, there is no hope of a successful result”
&c.--

Although _Spohr_ could not personally share in the triumph which this
new oratorio achieved for him in England, he nevertheless received
almost daily detailed epistolary accounts of the success of the
festival, and at length also a whole box full of newspapers of every
shade of politics, which seemed almost to vie with each other in
expressions of admiration of his work. Of these, some few of the most
conspicuous and characteristic in style of comment may here be cited:
“The Times” says among other things: “The gem of the festival was
_Spohr’s_ oratorio. The text is written with especial regard to the
nature and the character of an oratorio, and the subject which _Spohr_
has illustrated by the exercise of his talent is especially favourable
to its exhibition. Three nations are represented: the captive Hebrews,
the luxurious Babylonians and the Persians in their pride of conquest:
these furnish materials for the most varied musical treatment by the
composer, of which he has availed himself in the most admirable manner,
and thoroughly understood how to adhere throughout the music to the
identity and nationality of the different nations. His peculiar genius
for the invention of beautiful melodies, and his power to enrich these
with appropriate harmonies is also preminently conspicuous in this
splendid work.” After a detailed analysis of the separate “numbers” it
is further said: “The general opinion of the oratorio is this: It is
a master piece of art, worthy to rank with “Die letzten Dingen” and
“Des Heilands letzten Stunden.” Emphatic as this praise may be, it is
nevertheless just. Though from the same hand, the work is nevertheless
essentially different from these. The former excite feelings of
deep devotion and christian piety, in the latter we distinguish the
character of the deity more in its majesty and omnipotence; Jehovah
displays himself to us in acts of power by dooming the ungodly to
punishment. The work fulfils all the conditions of a true oratorio,
and its performance was a triumph of English art. One thing only was
deeply and generally deplored, that _Spohr_ was prevented from being
present at this triumph.” In the Morning Chronicle, after similar
enthusiastic expressions of opinion, follows: “In a word, the music is
characterised by the whole power and peculiarity of _Spohr’s_ genius,
and we may boldly assert that it is the grandest work written since
the days of _Händel_.”--The immense crowd that pressed forward to the
hall to witness the performance is adverted to by all the papers, and
the Morning Herald especially, speaks of it thus: “Although to hear
_Spohr’s_ oratorio an unusually numerous auditory was to be expected,
yet no one could have formed an idea of what actually occurred. From an
early hour in the morning carriages arrived in numbers, filled with the
rank and beauty of the county.... The whole interior of the building
was immediately filled; where a resting-place could be found for one
foot only, fool-hardy individuals were to be seen located in the most
dangerous situations, and every one seemed determined to endure the
greatest inconvenience rather than forego the pleasure of hearing
_Spohr’s_ oratorio. Many persons clambered up to the roof, and from
thence in at the window, but numbers were compelled to remain outside,
and content themselves with looking down from their dizzy height upon
the crowds below. This is no exaggeration, but strictly true; and
that such a degree of interest should have been evinced for a new
musical work, is certainly an event that stands alone in the history
of music,” &c. While _Spohr_ found at home a cheering distraction in
these gratifying accounts, his admirers and friends in England were
considering how to make him some compensation for his loss, and before
the close of the year he received an invitation to London during his
next vacation, to conduct his oratorio.

Upon _Spohr’s_ arrival in London in June 1843, Professor _Taylor_,
who had conducted his oratorio at Norwich, in his stead, and who had
discharged that difficult task most creditably, had so far made
all the preliminary preparations that after a few rehearsals, its
performance could take place at the Hanover Square Rooms to his full
satisfaction. The public also gave vent to their enthusiasm, with the
most reiterated and demonstrative applause, and at the conclusion
greeted him with three cheers. Nevertheless all those who had been
present at the festival in the fine St. Andrew’s Hall at Norwich, were
not by any means satisfied that _Spohr_ had not been permitted to hear
his work under equally favourable circumstances, in all its grandeur,
and he received the invitation to direct a second grander performance,
which the Sacred Harmonic Society were desirous of giving with their
chorus of five hundred voices in the large concert-room of Exeter
Hall. But as he had proposed to himself to devote the yet remaining
week’s leave of absence to a journey to Wales, of the scenery of
which he had heard so much spoken in praise, and as the time moreover
appeared to him much too short for a careful study of his oratorio, he
returned an answer declining the invitation. Upon subsequent pressing
solicitation, nevertheless, and repeated conferences, he at length
yielded, and it was then agreed that the requisite rehearsals should
be made during _Spohr’s_ absence, so that he would have nothing more
to do than to take upon himself the direction of the performance, and
meanwhile he could proceed undisturbed upon his projected journey.
Highly necessary to him, also, was such a refreshing change of scene
after the almost overwhelming fatigues of the musical entertainments
and dinner-parties of the preceding weeks, at the greater part of
which he himself took an active share in the performances. At the
last concert of the Philharmonic Society, in which he directed the
performance of several of his compositions: “Die Weihe der Töne,” the
overture to the “Alchymist,” and the flower duet from “Jessonda,” but
first himself executed his concertino in _E major_ upon the violin,
he was, as recorded by the “Spectator”--“welcomed like a Prince, the
whole company rising spontaneously from their seats to salute him” ...
and when he had concluded his artistic and indescribably charming
play, the irrepressible outbursts of delight shewed how completely
he had touched the heart-strings of his auditory. At the end of the
concert the directors conveyed to him moreover the wishes of the queen,
that he would play once more in an extra-concert to be given for that
purpose. As he could not well refuse this, the concert took place a
week afterwards, and comprised in its compendious programme among other
things a symphony of Mozart, the ninth symphony of _Beethoven_, with
the choruses, and three of _Spohr’s_ compositions: concertino in _A
major_, the overture to “Macbeth,” and Tristan’s air in “Jessonda,” in
which _Staudigl_ was twice encored.

Respecting the further circumstances of the concert a letter written
home contains the following: “The extra-concert of yesterday was a very
brilliant success, and afforded us high enjoyment. The appearance there
of the Queen was an event of which all the newspapers and everybody
also spoke beforehand with much interest; as since her coronation she
had never yet appeared at one. When she entered the room, dressed in a
plain black robe, but wearing a good many diamonds, the public clapped
their hands and rose from their seats, upon which the soli and chorus
sang “God save the Queen” with great effect. During the entre-acte, the
Queen sent for _Spohr_ to the adjoining apartment, where she discoursed
with him for some time in a very flattering manner, and advised him
during his further journey in England to travel _incognito_, otherwise
in every town he would be annoyed and intruded upon in the same manner
as in London. Prince Albert and the King of the Belgians entered also
into conversation with him, and he was much edified by their remarks.
Several persons whom we knew, who sat near the Queen, laid great stress
upon the circumstance that upon _Spohr’s_ appearance in the orchestra,
she and her husband bowed very profoundly, and clapped their hands very
warmly,” &c. At further music parties he experienced great pleasure in
hearing his trios, quartets, airs and duets from his operas, and songs,
executed with the most perfect finish, and was always much delighted
with the wonderfully pure execution of the favorite English glees. Upon
these occasions he was not at all disturbed by the enormous quantity of
musical pieces which were brought forward, for with his inexhaustible
nerve and power of endurance he was fortunately enabled to compete with
the English.

As a curiosity of the kind the following programme may be adduced, of a
musical festival got up by Mr. _Alsager_, then co-editor of the Times,
in honour of _Spohr_:

Queen Square Select Society.

Musical Festival in Honour of the arrival of Spohr in London.

Sunday July 2, 1843.

  Act. 1.

  Double Quartet No. 1                                   Spohr.
  Quintet-Pianoforte, Flute, Clarinet, Horn and Bassoon  Spohr.
  Double Quartet No. 2                                   Spohr.
  Nonetto                                                Spohr.

  Déjeuner à la fourchette.

  Act. 2.

  Quintet                                                Spohr.
  Ottetto                                                Spohr.
  Double Quartet No. 3                                   Spohr.

  To commence at 2 o’clock--Déjeuneur at 5--
  Second act to commence at 7.

This festival, which was in every respect successful, and got up with
princely magnificence, must have been the more gratifying to _Spohr_,
when he saw how the company, consisting of fifty persons, listened
until late in the evening with admirable perseverance and wrapped
attention to his tones, without evincing the least sign of weariness.
When gratified beyond measure by a festive testimonial so unusual, he
felt called upon to express his very great thanks to Mr. _Alsager_,
he found to his great surprise on the following day among the mass of
letters which he constantly received, one also from him expressing
his heartfelt thanks, which concluded as follows: “May you enjoy all
the happiness that can result from the consciousness that you are a
benefactor to the world and communicate happiness to others in a circle
still increasing and never ending.”

Upon their pleasure trip on the 12th July _Spohr_ and his wife
were accompanied by Professor _Taylor_, in whom they found both a
well-informed and amiable guide and companion. They visited Winchester,
Portsmouth, Southampton, Bath, Bristol and Wales. With the natural
beauties of the latter _Spohr_ was so much charmed that in many parts
he considered them to surpass Switzerland, and all that he had ever
seen. On the return journey to London, he was loud in his expressions
of admiration of the beauties of Cheltenham, and of the fine university
of Oxford. Though in accordance with the advice of the Queen he had
thought to make this little journey _incognito_; nevertheless his
arrival soon became known in each town, and the composer of “Die
letzten Dinge,” the pianoforte arrangement of which he found in almost
every house, was received by every one after his own manner, with
the highest honours, upon which occasions many incidents occurred
that either greatly amused or moved him. Meanwhile, in London, every
possible exertion had been made, and upon his return, _Spohr_ found
that his oratorio had been studied with such faultless precision, that
as he wrote word in a letter home “at the grand rehearsal he was really
much moved both with its excellent execution, and the conviction that
such a number of persons totally stranger to him, and for the most part
engaged in business (who in London have indeed but little leisure time)
should have devoted their evenings to a late hour, during his absence
of eight days, to the study of this difficult work, from pure love of
it, and to afford him an agreeable surprise.”

The performance itself is then thus described: “Imagine a gigantic
hall with places for 3000 persons, crammed full, head above head; in a
balcony apart, as the bill expresses it ‘Madame _Spohr_ and Friends’
looking down upon the scene. Opposite the magnificent and stupendous
organ and on all sides around it, an orchestra and choir of singers
numbering five hundred persons, grouped in the most charming manner; in
that orchestra _Spohr_ enters, and at the same moment the whole public
and orchestra rise from their seats, all waving handkerchiefs and hats
and shouting long and loudly altogether “Bravo, Hurrah!” But no sooner
did _Spohr_ lift his _baton_ than all sat down, and a deep silence of
anxious attention reigned. Then resounded through the spacious hall
the first moving accords of the overture, like music from another
sphere. The whole performance proceeded now grandly and as though with
one impulsive inspiration in all. A solemn thrilling emotion pervaded
us, and at many powerful passages, such as “Er regiert auf ewig (he
rules for ever) Hallelujah!”--“Du nur allein bist Gott” &c. (Thou, and
Thou only art God),--then it was as though all mankind had assembled
to praise God with the purest harmony. But doubly wonderful at such
outbursts of powerful grandeur is the ever-recurring entry at the right
moment of the tenderest shades of expression.... Three airs and the
grand chorus of the Persians were encored with vehement acclamation. At
the conclusion the people, at a loss to find a new and further way of
expressing their rapture, demonstrated it more prominently by mounting
at once upon the benches. When at length _Spohr_ had made his way
through the mass of those who pressed forward to shake hands with and
congratulate him as he passed on to the door of the hall, I observed
with astonishment that the whole company remained behind, and whispered
to each other, which induced me to think something important was still
to take place; when after a time the noise broke out anew and _Spohr_
was again vehemently called for. Upon this two gentlemen led him back
once more, and having informed him that the public much wished him to
address a few words to them, he at length determined to do so, and made
a short speech in ~German~, which although they did not understand,
was very gratefully received by the assembly. Hereupon the President
stepped forward, and having delivered a long address to _Spohr_ in
English, which was repeatedly interrupted by applause and cries of
“Hear! hear!” he presented to him in the name of the company a large
silver salver with a beautifully engraved inscription commemorative of
the evening festival,” &c.--This solemn concluding scene crowned all
that _Spohr_ had yet experienced, and the sad moment of parting from
hospitable England now approached. _Spohr_ himself was painfully moved
by it, although the earnest solicitations of every kind which poured in
upon him, gave him little time for calm reflection. Daily from various
quarters did he receive the blank sheets of albums with the request
for some souvenir from his own hand, many of which yet awaited their
execution and kept him occupied at his writing-table up to the time of
his departure. After he had satisfied these last requests even, and
at length embarked on board the steamer, he good humouredly remarked
to the crowd of friends and admirers who had collected to bid him
farewell: “There is now indeed scarcely a lover of music in England
who has not my autograph,”--the steamer was hailed from the shore, and
on looking in that direction he saw a boat rowing fast towards them,
and shortly, several gentlemen came on board, bearing numerous albums
that had arrived too late, with the entreaty that _Spohr_ would write
something in each during the journey down to Gravesend, whither they
would accompany him with that view! Actually also, did _Spohr_ comply,
and writing, he left the shores of England, and so made the parting
moments somewhat less painful to him!

       *       *       *       *       *

Early in the month of October 1843, a meeting of the Philological
Society was to take place in Cassel, and the generally expressed wish
to honour the same with some musical performances was the more natural,
from the means necessary thereto being more especially at command
there. Upon _Spohr’s_ recommendation the president of the society and
Gymnasial-Director _Weber_ proposed the performance of “Antigone” at
the theatre, with _Mendelssohn’s_ choruses; and _Spohr_ expressed
himself ready to comply with the wishes of the magistracy to give a
performance of his oratorio: “Der Fall Babylons” in the church, for the
benefit of the poor of the city. As, however, the permission of the
Prince could not be obtained for both, the foreign guests were obliged
to content themselves with a private performance of “Antigone” in the
spacious hall where they held their sittings, upon which occasion
Councillor _Niemeyer_ read the tragedy, and the choruses were sung
with accompaniment of two pianofortes by the singers of the men’s
choral society under _Spohr’s_ direction. In this manner all went off
very effectingly, and the strangers were so well content that they
not only expressed their most heartfelt thanks to _Spohr_ for his
exertions, but at their next sitting, (at which he assisted with much
interest) unanimously voted also a letter of thanks to _Mendelssohn_.
_Spohr_ himself was also so much pleased with the spirited and truly
original music “that he now exceedingly desired to hear it also with
full orchestral treatment.” But as under the present overruling
circumstances in Cassel this was not to be achieved, he shortly
afterwards gave a repetition of the reading of the tragedy in the same
manner, for a charitable purpose, but in a more spacious building, by
which means a wider circle of the lovers of music were enabled for the
first time to become acquainted with the interesting work.

About this time _Spohr_ began to turn his mind seriously to the
composition of another opera, which probably arose from the frequency
with which the libretto of operas were sent to him. But as none of them
satisfied him, and as upon a closer examination, either the treatment
of the subject or the form of the musical pieces did not suit him,
he conceived the idea of writing with the assistance of his wife the
text of a libretto, and chose for subject the once favorite drama of
Kotzebue: “The Crusaders,” which seemed to him particularly adapted to
the object he had this time in view, namely, an entire deviation from
the customary form, as well as from the style, of his own previous
opera music; in composing the whole throughout as a musical drama,
without unnecessary repetitions of the text and ornamentations, and
with a constantly progressing development in the treatment. As soon as
the libretto was completed, he set to work with great spirit, and in
a short time completed the first act, which he immediately arranged
for the pianoforte, and had performed in his house by a select number
of the best dilettanti, in order to convince himself of the success
of his work, before he proceeded further with it. When he became
satisfied how clearly and intelligibly, even without the aid of scenic
representations, the lifelike expression of his music depicted the
different characters and situations, and how powerfully both singers
and auditory were impressed by it, he proceeded with confidence with
the next act, and finished that also, all but the instrumentation,
before the commencement of the theatrical vacation.

As object of his customary summer journey _Spohr_ had selected
Paris, in order to shew his wife the grandeur of that brilliant
capital, and to visit at the same time the international exhibition
of industry, which, as the first of its kind, had so greatly excited
public attention, that strangers from every quarter of the globe
flocked to it to behold the endless treasures in every department of
manufacturing industry, and to admire the products of art. With the
daily concourse of the visitors it was however almost impossible to
obtain an undisturbed and attentive view; it was therefore matter of no
small self-congratulation for _Spohr_ and his wife to receive a ticket
of admission procured by especial favour upon a day that had been set
apart for the King’s visit to the exhibition, when exhibitors only
were permitted to be present. By this means they were also furnished
with the rare opportunity of seeing the venerable _Louis Philippe_,
accompanied by his wife, his sister _Adelaide_, and the then still very
youthful Duke _de Montpensier_, pass close before them, and to hear
distinctly the King’s remarks upon the various manufactures displayed.

At a season of the year so unfavourable for musical performances of any
consequence, _Spohr_ could scarcely hope to enjoy that gratification,
but there, in a foreign land he had the unhoped-for satisfaction of an
enjoyment he had vainly endeavoured to obtain at home, that namely of
assisting at a performance of “Antigone” with _Mendelssohn’s_ choruses,
which on that evening had been given for the thirty-second time in
succession at the Odéon theatre to constantly crowded houses, and
_Spohr_ was deeply impressed with the excellence of the music and of
the scenic arrangements.

But although the best musicians were for the most part absent from
Paris, he nevertheless passed some very pleasant hours in the society
of Mr. _Habenec_ (director of the conservatory), _Panseron_, _Halevy_,
_Auber_, _Berlioz_, _Adam_, &c. On the part of the conservatory it
was also greatly wished to shew him some mark of attention, although
under the circumstances some difficulty was experienced in doing so, as
appears from a notice in a Parisian journal, in the following words:
“Mais que faire pour prouver à l’auteur de ‘Faust’ et de ‘Jessonda’
que la France sait apprécier dignement ses belles compositions et leur
auteur? Une idée vient soudain à un ami de Mr. _Habenec_: ‘L’époque
des magnifiques concerts du Conservatoire est passée! dit-il; eh bien!
écrivons partout, réunissons une partie de nos artistes, et essayons
de tresser une petite couronne à _Spohr_, en exécutant devant lui un
de ses plus beaux morceaux.’ Le projet est approuvé, on n’avait que
quelques jours pour le mettre en œuvre. Des circulaires sont adressées
à vingt, trente lieues de Paris. Des hommes d’un talent supérieur,
qui n’auraient pas quitté leur _dolce far niente_ à prix d’argent,
se hâtent d’accourir, et la Société des Concerts, à l’exception de
deux de ses membres qui sont maintenant en Italie, se trouve réunie à
Paris comme un seul homme. La salle du Conservatoire est ouverte, tons
les exécutants s’y rendent, et _Spohr_ y est amené comme spectateur
unique; c’est pour lui seul que soixante-dix-huit musiciens sont là,
c’est aux pieds de sa gloire qu’ils viennent se prosterner, et lui font
entendre son chef-d’œuvre symphonique: ‘La création de la Musique’
(‘Weihe der Töne’).”

Upon _Spohr’s_ entry into the room he was greeted with loud applause,
and addressed in a speech by Mr. _Habenec_, who invited him to
direct his symphony in person, as at the next winter concerts, the
society intended to perform it, and it would therefore be of the
utmost value to all, to be initiated by the personal direction of the
composer himself into its mode of performance. In reality, also, many
indications and repetitions were necessary upon the occasion, until
every thing, went satisfactorily; but _Beethoven’s_ pastoral symphony,
which followed, and had been frequently played, was executed with that
masterly precision for which that orchestra was so celebrated.

On the following day _Spohr_ set out on his return to Cassel, which he
again left after the lapse of a few weeks, to comply with an invitation
from his native town of Brunswick, where they had long desired to
give a grand musical festival in his honour, and had therefore made
arrangements to have a performance of his oratorio the “Fall of
Babylon,” at the end of September.

On his way thither he received a foretaste of the Brunswick
festivities, at Seesen, where he slept the first night, and where he
had passed the first years of his childhood; the inhabitants of that
place having been thereby induced to believe that it was really his
birth-place. He was greatly surprised at being welcomed immediately
upon his arrival here with a kind and most hearty address and ushered
with much ceremony into the handsomely decorated grand room of the
hotel, where he found disposed in a wide semicircle, symmetrically
arranged, a selection from all the musical talent of the young folks
of Seesen, with the members of the choral society of that place; who,
besides singing several songs, executed a chorus from “Die letzten
Dingen” and a pleasing poem composed especially for the occasion,
addressed to _Spohr_, and arranged for four voices.

Brunswick was no less demonstrative in celebrating the presence of its
illustrious guest, and detailed notices of an impromptu festival given
to _Spohr_ are furnished by several letters, in which the brilliant
external display, as well as the expressive and appropriately arranged
musical entertainment, appealed with equal force and charm to the heart
and mind. A cantata set to music by _Methfessel_ for female voices and
chorus, “Welcome to _Spohr_,” was first sung, with a soft accompaniment
of wind instruments placed out of sight in the background, and executed
by them in the most finished manner. But scarcely had the guest so
honoured time to express his thanks at the conclusion of this pretty
song, when quite unexpectedly, and in striking contrast with it, a
powerful chorus of male voices from the opposite side of the hall began
a second “festive song to _Spohr_,” which prepared the minds of all for
the enjoyment of the subsequent more exhilarating festivities.

On the following day _Spohr_ directed the performance of his oratorio:
“The fall of Babylon,” in the Ægydian church, which was here also
executed with great spirit, and was well received. The circumstance
that its performance took place in the same church in which more
than 60 years before he was baptised as an infant greatly increased
the interest of the day, and gave occasion to several other poetic
effusions.

A grand concert of a mixed kind concluded the festivities of the
day; the first part of which comprised the overture to “King
Lear” by _Berlioz_, directed by Kapellmeister _Müller_, airs from
“Oberon” and “Jessonda” an adagio for violin by _Spohr_, executed by
concert-director _Müller_, and _Maurer’s_ concertante for four violins
(played by _Müller_, _Zimmermann_, _C. Müller jun._ and _Jean Bott_
of Cassel); the second part consisted of _Spohr’s_ fifth symphony, _C
minor_. Thus ended this pleasing festival, the heartfelt pleasure at
which was alone saddened to _Spohr_ by thoughts of his beloved father,
who, up to the few months preceeding his death in Brunswick had passed
the last years of his life in Seesen, but who, after watching for years
at a distance the career of his son with pleasurable pride, could now
no longer be a witness of the high esteem and honour shewn to him by
his native town.

At the end of the year _Spohr_ received an invitation to a grand
musical festival at New-York--the first from that side of the Ocean,
to the direction of which he had been unanimously selected at a
general meeting of the society of music of that city, “as the first
of all living composers and directors of music.” There were to be two
performances of sacred and two of secular music, and above all his
oratorio of the “Fall of Babylon”--“the fame of which had spread from
England to the new world,” was to take precedence. Although such a
proposal might have had great attractions for _Spohr_, and have yet
more incited his constant love of travel; and although in New York he
would have moreover the pleasure of seeing again his daughter _Emily_,
who with her husband and child had emigrated there some years before,
yet he soon made up his mind to decline it, as a residence there of
the few weeks only which the duties of his place would have perhaps
permitted, would scarcely have compensated for the fatigues of a long
voyage.

On New Year’s Day 1845, _Spohr’s_ new opera, “The Crusaders,” was
performed for the first time; and not only upon the first night, but
upon the quickly succeeding further performances, it met with an
unexampled brilliant reception for Cassel. _Spohr_, who had looked
forward with particularly anxious expectation to the success of this
work, was much gratified at this result, and wrote to his friend
_Hesse_ as follows: “That my opera should have made so deep and
lasting an impression upon the public, the lesser number of which only
consisted of musically educated persons, I ascribe to the truthful
character of my music, which aims only at representing the situation
perfectly, and discards all the flimsy parade of modern opera-music,
such as florid instrumental soli and noisy effects.[39] And I was
furthermore exceedingly pleased that the singers, who did not find in
their parts anything of that which usually gains for them the applause
of the crowd, evinced nevertheless at every rehearsal a greater
interest in it, and a zeal to study such as I never before observed in
them. But the result shews also, that this style of song, which is so
convenient for every one, and affords the opportunity of displaying
the best tones, and the degree of feeling and expression which each
is capable of, is a very grateful one; for never were our singers so
applauded, and after the second performance they were all called for
together on the stage.” The newspapers having circulated a great deal
in praise of the new opera, and it having become more extensively known
by the pianoforte arrangement which was shortly afterwards published by
_J. Schuberth_, it was soon announced for performance at other theatres
in Germany, viz. at Berlin, Dresden, Brunswick and Detmold; but in
other (catholic) cities, like Munich, Vienna &c., objection was taken
to the libretto, which had been asked for examination, and therefore
the performance was abstained from.

[39] To similar observations in a letter to _Hauptmann_ he adds: “I
could not make up my mind to write _one_ unnecessary note for the sake
of brilliancy.”

As _Spohr_ was invited to direct personally the first performance
of his “Crusaders” at Berlin, he was desirous that this should take
place during his theatrical vacation; and although he was apprised
from there that it was the most unfavourable season of the year for
it, as the chief characters of his opera could not be satisfactorily
represented till after the return of the absent principal singers, he
nevertheless though it more advisable to do without their assistance,
than by a longer delay to make the possibility of his coming a matter
of uncertainty.

At the beginning of the holidays he therefore set out on the journey,
but first to Oldenburg, to direct a grand concert there, the receipts
from which were destined for the institution of a pension fund for the
members of the orchestra there.

The programme had been previously cast by _A. Pott_, the resident
director, his former pupil and enthusiastic admirer, and consisted
wholly of _Spohr’s_ compositions, viz. concert overture in the serious
style; latest violin concerts in _E minor_, executed by the composer;
duett from “Jessonda” sung by Mrs. _Schmidt_ of Bremen and Mr. **;
clarinet concerto, played by Mr. _Köhn_, member of the ducal orchestra;
grand symphony in _C minor_ (No. 5); the “Lord’s Prayer,” for solo,
chorus, and orchestra.

Upon _Spohr’s_ arrival he found the whole of the musical pieces
(the last two of which he himself directed) so well practised under
_Pott’s_ direction, that at the rehearsal he was greatly pleased by
it. At the public performance, also, every thing went off so well,
that Mrs. _Spohr_ expresses herself in a letter home as follows: “We
felt as though we had been suddenly transported to England. The music,
the finished execution, the spacious, densely filled, and splendidly
acoustic building, the enthusiastic applause and admiration--all were
in truth _grandly English_. And all this was doubly surprising and
gratifying when one thinks that this took place in a small town with a
population of only 12,000. Orchestra and singers, three hundred persons
in all, worked together with wonderful harmony. Every piece of music
was excellent, but the impression made by the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ was
_quite indescribable_, and the words in which _Pott_ shortly before
expressed himself to _Spohr_, after a rehearsal of it: ‘Happy is the
man who can pray with such intense devotion; peace must indeed dwell
in his soul,’ presented themselves here in their full import to my
mind. _Spohr_, also, was of my opinion that he had never heard the
piece so well played, for even in the finest shades of the expression
there was nothing more to be desired. The whole platform from which
_Spohr_ led the orchestra, and the steps leading to it, were strewn
with the finest roses; the whole front of the orchestra was decorated
with wreaths; and beneath his bust, crowned with laurel, were the words
‘_Louis Spohr_’ in gigantic letters, composed of roses and laurel
artistically interwoven. While the assembly were listening with the
deepest attention to the splendid tones, it was little imagined by
any one how every enjoyment was embittered to _Spohr_, by a sudden
seizure with cramp in the stomach, which soon became so intense, as
he himself afterwards related, that when conducting the symphony and
the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ he had great difficultly in keeping himself erect.
After the concert we were to have assisted at another _fête_, given by
the minister _von Beaulieu_ at his house, in honour of _Spohr_; but
under the circumstances this became impossible, and we hastened home
with all speed, where, having arrived, _Spohr_ went immediately to
bed, and was obliged to resort to sedatives; but the cramp would not
yield to them, and the doctor who was called in, vainly endeavoured
to afford him relief, so that the pain became intense. At this very
moment when _Spohr_ lay in such a sad condition of suffering that
he expected every moment would be his last, a singular and striking
contrast was presented to his position, by a monster torch-light
procession followed by a large concourse of the inhabitants of
Oldenburg, which halted under our windows, and began a grand serenade
with the overture and several choruses from ‘Jessonda,’ performed by
all the native and foreign musicians then in Oldenburg, together with
three choral societies. Many other pieces were to have been performed,
but by _Spohr’s_ wish, _Pott_ availed himself of the opportunity when
a loud cheer was raised by the crowd, to address them in his name from
the window in a speech of thanks, which, although improvised, was
as well put together and delivered as though he had long previously
studied it. But when he acquainted them with _Spohr’s_ illness also,
a general depression spread immediately through all present, and the
previously so joyous assembled serenaders, withdrew in silent sadness.
In our house, meanwhile, all was remarkably lively: the hostess,
Mrs. _Oppermann_, wife of the Councillor _Oppermann_ of the high
court of appeal, was entertaining two carriage-loads of guests who
had come to the concert, together with all her acquaintance, who had
assembled below to be enabled to hear the serenade music better. In
strange contrast with these intervened the various attendances to the
necessities of our patient, the messages to the apothecary, my agony
of mind--in fact, it was a situation singular indeed of its kind.

“At midnight the physician came again, wrote some new prescriptions,
and gave fresh instructions, but all in vain; the attacks of the cramp
lasted till near 3 o’clock, when they became at length less violent,
and by degrees entirely ceased. But as the doctor was of opinion this
morning that the motion of the carriage might be prejudicial to the
invalid, we have deferred our departure, and the more so, as we could
be nowhere better off than here, where we receive the kindest attention
and care from the whole household, and everything that the heart can
wish is at our service. To-day, _Spohr_ received from the Grand-duke
a splendid diamond ring as a ‘souvenir of Oldenburg,’ which greatly
surprised and pleased him. The Grand-duke had intended to place the
ring himself on his finger at the dinner to which he had invited him,
but this also was defeated by the illness that overtook him,” &c.

_Spohr_ having determined by the advice of the physician to proceed as
soon as possible direct from Oldenburg to the baths of Carlsbad, and
devote the remainder of his vacation to the re-establishment of his
health by drinking the waters, he thought he should no longer be able
to fulfill his promises--to direct his “Jessonda” at Bremen, and the
first performance of the “Crusaders” at Berlin--wherefore with a heavy
heart he sent off letters announcing his inability to proceed to those
places.

Meanwhile, however, the remarkable efficacy of the Carlsbad waters,
which he had already several times experienced, evinced itself again
upon him in so satisfactory a manner, that in the very first week of
his stay the idea suggested itself to him, to remain for the present
but a fortnight only in Carlsbad, and defer following up the cure
of its waters to the following summer, so that his so unwillingly
abandoned purpose of proceeding to Berlin might yet be carried out.
In this hope he continued the course of baths with such unwearied
perseverance and unswerving confidence that he was enabled to reach
Berlin in sufficient time to assume personally the direction of his
“Crusaders.”

At the first grand rehearsal, in which he was introduced by _Meyerbeer_
and Councillor _Küstner_ to the assembled company of the theatre,
he became convinced that his work had been studied with particular
pleasure and predilection, and the song parts, although not filled
by stars of the first magnitude, were nevertheless impersonated,
as regarded the chief and secondary characters, in a thoroughly
satisfactory manner. On the evening of the performance he was received
upon his appearance with the greatest enthusiasm by the public, and
loudly called for after every act. On the following night the opera was
repeated with the same brilliant success. The public papers contained
also the most favourable notices of each, and the “Vossische Zeitung”
especially gave an article from the pen of _Rellstab_ to this effect:
“We have to speak of an event in art that will occupy one of the most
prominent and honourable places in the history of our stage--the
first performance of _Louis Spohr’s_ new opera, “The Crusaders.” The
merits of the master have already made themselves so prominently
conspicuous, and the worth of that which we possess in him is so fully
acknowledged, that it is not necessary even to speak of the character
of his music nor of its effects upon the development of art in the
present day.... What we had to expect as a whole, every body knew who
knows the artistic direction of _Spohr’s_ genius--and who does not
know it? That we should hear a work that might be ranked with the
noblest of the kind to which the composer has adhered throughout his
whole life, was to be expected. But we must frankly confess, we had
not dared to hope for so much freshness, so many instances of fiery
power, as the now more than sexagenarian master actually gives us!
Throughout the whole, he is the same we have long known; but in many
circumstances of the detail he presents us with numerous gifts of new
and finished excellence--and also of frequent brilliancy. His muse
has never addressed herself to the crowd: she never sought to seduce
by coquettish and alluring advances; her language, her movements have
been alone animated by a noble spiritual inspiration, and sought to win
the heart by purity and dignity. We had at first intended to indicate
the most prominently beautiful passages, which we consider it just
to particularise; but we soon found them so numerous, that we were
compelled to content ourselves with a selection. In the first act we
recall to mind the singular freshness of Baldwin’s greeting; Emma’s
devout song: “Dass ich die Braut des Himmels bin,” the effective and
ominous mingling of the tolling of the funeral bell in the discourse
with the porteress; the first strong physiognomic delineations of
the abbess Celestina, in the words: “Ich kenne Dein Geschlecht--Dein
Schicksal führt Dich her;” we remember some features that designate the
same character and its impassioned ebullition, as: the soft transition
of the orchestra after the words: “Ihr sollt das Mädchen lieben;” and
the subsequent words: “Gerichtet hat ihn Gott!--die Mutter weint,--die
Tochter büsst,--dem Todten sei verziehen;” which are of the deepest
and most impressive effect from their musical treatment.--The march
of the Saracens in this act is also of most original colouring, and
recurs again in the third act, where it is connected with that which
has gone before, and is handled in so startling and beautiful a manner
in the orchestra, that the public expressed their delight at the return
to it there by a general outburst of applause.--If we cite fewer
passages in the subsequent acts, it is not that these were poorer, but
not to weary the reader’s patience with the enumeration of individual
parts; and indeed the power of the music increases with the interest
of the subject treated. The recognition scene between Balduin and
Emma, Balduin’s threat at its conclusion, and the whole finale of the
second act, form striking moments, which always ensure the admiration
of the hearer. In the third act, the duet between Balduin and Bruno
is a fine master-piece of music, and the conclusion, the despair of
Balduin, replete with energetic force, and instrumented in a truly
powerful manner. The battle chorus of the Turks, from its prominent
difference of colouring, excited the enthusiasm of the auditory, who
followed the conformity of the opera well sustained throughout from
that part to the end, with the most lively interest.... We must also
acknowledge the zeal of all the performers.... But no less are thanks
and honour due to the public! They have this time shewn themselves
fully sensible of their office of judge and reward-giver, and gave that
unremitting attention to the work throughout which is most expressive
of the admiration and interest it awakened. Scarcely any fine passage
passed unnoticed by more or less warm demonstrations.... The day thus
terminated in a triumph for long years of meritorious services, and in
a day of honour for this particular work, which bears witness to the
wealth in artistic riches possessed by the composer, and in what sure
keeping and governance they are in the hands of our highly esteemed
master;” &c.--Passing over other similar notices, a criticism (signed
H. T.) may be adverted to here, for its strikingly harsh contrast with
the former; overflowing with dissatisfaction and every kind of reproach
of this opera, and which although not among the other papers now before
us, is still remembered by the family as one that greatly surprised
them by its contents. In cases of this kind _Spohr_ always laughed at
the angry zeal of his friends, affirming that every one had a right
to express his personal opinion freely, but at the same time with the
remark: “When a piece of music is really good, no reviling critic can
take from it an atom of its merit!”--

Though the brilliant success of this opera, which _Spohr_ had written
under circumstances of particular predilection, constituted the most
important moment of his eight days’ visit to Berlin, he passed the
previous and subsequent days in the most agreeable manner in the
amiable family circle of Professor _Wichmann_. But not alone in the
hospitable reception accorded him and his wife, which afforded them
all the delights of a charming domesticity, did _Spohr_ experience the
highest gratification; for from other quarters also marks of attention
were shown him yet more demonstrative of the honour in which his genius
was held.

Especially gratifying as were to him the attentions of his colleagues
in art, _Meyerbeer_, _Taubert_, _Hub. Riess_, and others, he was
not insensible to the tribute of acknowledgment paid to him by the
King; and the honour of an invitation to the royal table was yet more
enhanced in worth to him, from its being communicated to him at the
King’s request in a personal visit from the celebrated _Alexander v.
Humboldt_. Of this royal dinner party, at which, besides _Humboldt_,
_Tiek_, _v. Savigny_, and other personages of note were present, who
emulated with each other in pleasing and intellectual conversation
with the King and Queen, _Spohr_ always spoke with much pleasure in
later years. More especially, however, he would recur to the following
amusing incident:

Between the King and _Spohr_, who was seated opposite to him, rose
an ornamental centre-piece of considerable height, in the shape of a
costly flower-vase, which whenever the King was desirous of addressing
his conversation to _Spohr_, greatly interfered and prevented him from
seeing his face. Upon each occasion, the King was obliged to stoop
in order to look round the inconveniently intervening object, until
growing impatient, after having made several signs to the servants to
remove it, which they appeared not to have understood, the King seized
it with his own hand, and removing the obtrusive ornament procured
for himself an unimpeded view across the table to _Spohr_.--On the
last evening, while the _Wichmann_ family and their guests were seated
in the illuminated garden saloon in friendly chat, they were greatly
surprised by the sudden entry from the obscurity of the garden of
several dark figures, which were followed by a constantly increasing
number, until the whole of the members of the royal orchestra, with
_Meyerbeer_ and _Taubert_ at their head, assembled, upon which the
senior member presented _Spohr_ with a beautifully executed golden
laurel-wreath, while _Meyerbeer_, in a speech of much feeling, thanked
him “for all the grand and beautiful things which in his enthusiastic
love of true German art he had hitherto created, and especially for
this his excellent work, “The Crusaders,” &c. This discourse upon
the evening of his taking leave, spoken with warmth and sincerity by
such a man, could not fail to make a deep impression upon _Spohr_
and every person present, and it was followed by a silence the most
profound; until professor _Wichmann_, who was the first to recover
his self-possession, approached _Meyerbeer_, and to the just praises
conveyed in his excellent speech, replied with much humour in the
words: “Positively, _Demosthenes_ was a mere stump orator in comparison
to you!” at which the cheerful tone of the company was magically
restored, and _Spohr_ then returned thanks in a concise yet feeling
manner. Besides this handsome present from the royal Berlin orchestra,
he took back with him to Cassel another souvenir of his stay there,
viz. his own bust executed by professor _Wichmann_, which on account
of its speaking resemblance and artistic excellence has always been
greatly admired both by connoisseurs and the general public.

Scarcely had _Spohr_ returned to Cassel than he was again upon
the move, and this time to Bonn, where on the 11th. of August the
inauguration of the monument to _Beethoven_ was to be celebrated. To
the invitation that had been sent to him many weeks before, to conduct
a portion of the musical performance upon the occasion, he had at
first, it is true, replied declining it, as a special leave of absence
would have been necessary for him to proceed thither, and after having
already applied for one the year before to direct the Brunswick musical
festival, he did not like to make a similar application so soon. It was
however shortly announced to him in a second letter, that the committee
of the festival having been informed that the Prince was then staying
at Cologne for a few days, they had despatched a deputation thither to
invite him and the Countess _Schaumburg_ to the approaching ceremony in
her native town of Bonn, and to solicit at the same a leave of absence
for _Spohr_, which had been graciously granted. As no further obstacle
now intervened, _Spohr_ lost no time in proceeding thither, to lend his
personal assistance at the grand festival, which had drawn together
from far and near the musical youth of Germany, to do honour to the
great master whose memorial was to be inaugurated.

Of the festivities preceding and subsequent to the uncovering of the
statue--the launching of the steam-boat “_Ludwig van Beethoven_,”
the excursion to Nonnenwerth, the grand procession, the pyrotechnic
display, illumination, banquet and ball--all these things have been so
frequently described verbally and in writing by many who were present
at the festival, that we will here only concisely advert to its musical
features.

In the first grand concert _Beethoven’s_ mass in _D major_ and the
ninth symphony were performed under _Spohr’s_ direction, and as the
published accounts of the festival express it, “both these works, which
present very great difficulties, were performed with the most finished
execution, so that this concert alone, combined with the sight of the
hall in which it took place, was well worth the journey to Bonn.” On
the following day, _Beethoven’s_ grand mass in _C major_ was performed
at the celebration of divine service in the minster church, and upon
the uncovering of the statue a festive cantata by _Breitenstein_ was
performed under his direction. At the second grand concert in the hall
_Spohr_, by the desire of _Lisst_, again directed a part, while the
services of the latter, as an active member of the committee, being
continually required in various departments, with the exception of
his performance of _Beethoven’s_ pianoforte concerto in _E major_, he
confined himself to the direction of the _C minor_ symphony and some
“numbers” of the Fidelio. The third, so-called musicians’ concert,
was subjected of a necessity to many changes of the fourteen pieces
of which its programme consisted, as, besides the Princes who were
already arrived, the King and Queen of Prussia, the Queen of England
with her consort, and other exalted personages were expected at the
solemnities of the inauguration of the statue, and _Lisst_ did not
like to begin his festive cantata before their arrival. But it became
at length necessary to make a beginning, and scarcely was the first
“number” of _Lisst’s_ cantata concluded, than the royal personages
made their appearance, and the assembled company saluted them with
the national-hymn: “Heil Dir im Siegerkranz;” after which _Lisst_ had
the whole cantata repeated; upon the conclusion of which it was left
to the two Queens to make the selection of the next musical-pieces
which were to be performed in their presence. It was thus, that not
only the pieces of the programme were changed from their announced
order of succession, but several of the pieces were necessarily wholly
omitted on account of the delay that had thus occurred; and the musical
part of the festival was brought to a termination in a somewhat
unsatisfactory manner, and without a real and proper conclusion in the
opinion of a majority of the auditory. A chosen few, however, among
whom was _Spohr_, received an invitation to the grand court concert,
given by the King of Prussia in honour of his exalted guests at his
palace of the Brühl, in the neighbourhood. _Meyerbeer_ directed, and
the programme consisted, with the exception of some pianoforte-pieces
performed by _Lisst_, of song-pieces only, sung by the most eminent
vocalists, Messrs. _Mantius_, _Pischeck_ and _Staudigl_, with Mdmes.
_Lind_, _Garcia_ and _Tuczek_.

After a summer so busily occupied, and in which _Spohr_ was deprived
of all leisure for composing, the impulse to write something new was
awakened but the more strongly upon his return to Cassel, and several
instrumental compositions followed each other in quick succession,
to which style of art, since the termination of his opera, his whole
mind again more especially addressed itself. About this period he
wrote his 15th. violin-concerto (_E minor_, Op. 128, published by
_Schuberth_), which he first played at the subscription-concerts in
Cassel, and in July 1845 at the previously mentioned musical festival
at Oldenburg, and then in commemoration of that event dedicated it
to _Poll_ the music director of that place. This was followed by the
sixth quintet for stringed instruments (_E minor_ Op. 129, published by
_Breitkopf & Härtel_); and in the course of the winter by a quintet for
pianoforte, two violins, viola and violincello, in _D minor_ (Op. 130,
published by _Schuberth_); the 30th. quartet for stringed instruments
(Op. 132, published by _Breitkopf_); and a quartet concerto for two
violins, viola and violincello, with orchestra--the latter of which
was played at the next subscription concerts, and by the addition of
the rich instrumental accompaniment proved especially adapted as a
simple quartet for performance at a concert in a spacious building.
Before it had appeared in print (Op. 130, at _Schuberth’s_), it was
sent for from London and Vienna, and especially asked for at Leipzic,
at which place the directors of the Gewandhaus concerts were always
extremely desirous of being able to announce in their programme a new
composition in manuscript by _Spohr_. Such upon this occasion was also
the sentiment of _M. Hauptmann_ in a letter to _Spohr_: “Everything
coming from you, old or new, always finds the most favourable reception
here: one can easily judge from the applause whether a thing merely
pleases, or whether it makes a deep pleasurable impression, and that is
always the case with your things. Either song or instrumental music of
yours is always listened to with real predilection, the concert-loving
public finds itself then in an atmosphere that suits it; and in this
manner also the quartet concerto (with the execution of which I was
not altogether satisfied) met with a very warm approval. To my mind
it is perfectly _Spohrisch_, i. e. as masterly, as it is replete with
feeling: the great difficulties attending such an undertaking are
not in the least perceptible when listening to it, and as in your
double quartets, the greatest clearness is always apparent in the
most scientific combinations, which cannot always be said of other
compositions that overstep the limits of the ordinary; that is, what
the initiated understand and consider as high art, but which the mere
hearer of feeling finds pleasing and which put him in good humour,”
&c. The correspondence upon these subjects was chiefly conducted by
_Mendelssohn_, who also made the proposition to introduce the third
act of the Crusaders as a whole, in one of the concerts there, and
afterwards announced to _Spohr_, who was of opinion that _this_
opera in particular was not very suited to the purpose, his entire
satisfaction: “The first time I saw your work in Berlin, the third act
appeared to me the most spirited, and finest in the whole opera, and I
was convinced that it would be very effective in a concert. You seemed
to doubt it, and therefore I am the more pleased that yesterday’s
performance of it made so great an impression, which, to judge from the
attention of the auditory, the applause and their observations, appears
to me very evident... The chorus was about two hundred strong, and the
hymn in _H major_, the chorus for male voices in _C major_, and then
the scene in the convent, sounded wonderfully fine. A thousand hearty
thanks for this enjoyment, and for all the many beautiful things for
which we are indebted to you.... Unfortunately I was not able so to
manage that the direction of this concert would fall to me; but it went
so well under _Gade_, and he had made himself so well acquainted with
the whole work, that even you would scarcely have desired more,” &c.

In striking contrast with these friendly words of acknowledgement from
so competent a judge, a circumstance occurred about the same time,
which from being considered by _Spohr_ himself as the only one of
the kind throughout his long musical career, may not be undeserving
of special mention here. Though the opera of the Crusaders had been
sent by special request to Dresden for performance there, upwards
of a twelvemonth, it had never yet been put upon the stage; and
during that time the directors _Reissiger_ and _Wagner_, as also the
celebrated tenor _Tichatscheck_, for whose splendid voice the part
of Balduin seemed almost purposely written, had repeatedly expressed
by letter their pleasure with the work, and their regret at the
constantly recurring delays, which deprived them of all hope of
_Spohr’s_ proceeding there to direct it--when suddenly, to his great
astonishment, the score, not a little worn and defaced, was sent back
from Dresden, without honorarium, and even without the libretto,
to which _Spohr_ had with much trouble appended many remarks and
directions in writing; accompanied only with a letter from the manager,
Mr. _von Lüttichau_, the very unsatisfactory contents of which may be
inferred from the following accidentally preserved copy of _Spohr’s_
reply:

“Your Excellency’s letter of the 15th. inst. has very much surprised
me. I never could have believed, after my long, and I think I may
say honourable, career as a musician, that I should have lived to
experience the indignity to have the score of one of my works--not sent
in as the first essay of a beginner for examination and trial, but
_ordered_ by previous application--sent back to me in such a manner.
What you are pleased to assign by way of explanation or excuse for so
strange a proceeding, I cannot possibly accept; for it was no fault
of mine that the opera was not brought out at the appointed time,
and both soon enough and frequently enough had I drawn attention to
the circumstance that I could obtain no leave of absence out of my
vacation time. How the opera, which is known by nobody in Dresden,
should now have lost the charm of novelty I can as little understand,
as that the contents of the opera, which were already known to you
when you ordered it, should now all at once be found objectionable,
while here and in Berlin, it has not met with the least objection in
its present form, nor formerly, when performed in the shape of a play
throughout Germany. Had your excellency felt any anxiety lest the
opera would not remunerate for the time given to its study, and the
expenses it might entail, you could assuredly have found some relief
for your doubts in the many numerously attended performances which have
already taken place here, in Berlin, Brunswick, &c. It is difficult
for me also to conceive how the work of an old experienced composer
should be rejected by a theatre which does not disdain the rapid works
of beginners and dilettanti such as .... and .... The insult that
has been offered to me is therefore wholly inexplicable, and I must
console myself with the reflexion, _that it is the only one of the kind
offered to me during my long career as a composer_, and I congratulate
myself that I am not under a theatrical directorship which so little
understands how to respect the feelings of a veteran artist,” &c. To
this a reply was received from the vice-manager, _K. Winkler_, who
at the request of Mr. _von Lüttichau_, expressed his regret that the
return of his score, which had become necessary, should have so much
offended _Spohr_, assuring him furthermore, that the chief reason for
it was the words and subject of the opera, during the ecclesiastical
excitement.

But that _Spohr’s_ view of the matter was not much changed by this
attempt at exculpation is evident from a letter he wrote to _Richard
Wagner_, in which he opens his whole mind to him, and having first
expressed his disappointment that _Wagner’s_ opera “Tannhäuser,”
which he had proposed to the Prince to have performed in celebration
of his birth day, had not received the official sanction, he avails
himself of the opportunity to detail fully to him the incomprehensible
conduct of the Dresden theatrical directorship. _Wagner_, who then
first was made acquainted with all the particulars, gave expression to
his anger thereat, in so plainspoken a manner, that the publication
of his letter, highly interesting as it is, would perhaps be
unadvisable. After the prospect of a meeting with _Wagner_ in Dresden
had been dispelled in so vexatious a manner, _Spohr_ proposed to him
a _rendez-vous_ at Leipzic, where he intended making a stay of a
few days on his contemplated journey with his wife to Carlsbad. As
_Wagner_ seized the idea with much pleasure, the long desired personal
acquaintance was at length made with the greatest mutual satisfaction,
and letters addressed to the family at home speak among other things of
this meeting, and other interesting circumstances that occurred during
their stay there:

“We are passing our time here most delightfully, and enjoying a very
feast of the finest music. On the very first evening we had a music
party at _Hauptmann’s_, where trios by _Mendelssohn_ and _Spohr_, in
which each master took part, were played; and the company, consisting
chiefly of connoisseurs in art, were highly delighted indeed. On the
following day a very charming dinner-party was given at _Wagner’s_
suggestion, who has himself no means of entertaining friends at
Leipzic, by his brother-in-law, Professor _Brockhaus_, in honour of
_Spohr_. We there made the acquaintance of his sister and several
others of his relatives, all of them most intellectual creatures, and
enjoyed ourselves greatly. Besides the members of the family, _Heinrich
Laube_, the author, and his very learned wife, were present, who gave
a yet more lively impress to the conversation. We were most pleased
with _Wagner_, who seems every time more and more amiable, and whose
intellectual culture on every variety of subject is really wonderful.
Among other things he gave expression to his sentiments on political
matters with a warmth and depth of interest that quite surprised
us, and pleased us of course the more from the great liberality of
feeling he displayed. We passed the evening most delightfully at
_Mendelssohn’s_, who did his utmost to entertain and please _Spohr_.
This family has for me something very idealistic about them, they
present a combination of inward and external features, and withal so
much beautiful domestic happiness, that one seldom sees the like of in
actual life. In their establishment and whole manner of living there
is so much unassuming modesty amid all the obvious luxury and wealth
around them, that one cannot but feel at one’s ease. And to me most
gratifying is his unmistakable attachment to and esteem for _Spohr_.
He himself played a most extremely difficult and highly characteristic
composition of his own, called ‘Siebenzehn ernste Variationen’
(seventeen serious variations), with immense effect; then followed
two of _Spohr’s_ quartets--among them the newest (the 30th.)--on
which occasion _Mendelssohn_ and _Wagner_ read from the score with
countenances expressive of their delight. Besides these, the wife
of doctor _Frege_ sang some of _Spohr’s_ songs, which _Mendelssohn_
accompanied beautifully; and in this manner the hours passed rapidly
and delightfully with alternate music and lively conversation, till
midnight drew on unobserved, and at length gave impressive warning to
break up. _Wagner_, who was obliged to return to Dresden the following
day, came to take leave of us, which both to us and to him was a sad
moment. But after he had left, he was frequently the subject of our
conversation, for he left us the words of a new opera which he had
written (Lohengrin) to read, and which is exceedingly original and
interesting.... Yesterday at the dinner-table we made another agreeable
acquaintance, that of the poet _Robert Prutz_, who being seated
exactly opposite to us, introduced himself, sustained a very lively
conversation, and appeared quite charmed at meeting with _Spohr_. After
dinner a performance was arranged in the church by the pupils of the
Thomas School, where, without any accompaniment _Spohr’s_ psalm with
double choir, ‘Aus der Tiefe’ (out of the deep) and his favorite motet
by _Bach_: ‘Ich lasse Dich nicht’ (I will not leave thee) were sung....
Last evening an extra concert was given for _Spohr_ in the well-known
Gewandhaus, which, under _Mendelssohn’s_ direction, was in every
respect a brilliant entertainment. The programme consisted wholly of
_Spohr’s_ compositions, of which we had not been apprized before hand,
and which was on purpose to take us by surprise. It comprised: 1stly.
The overture to Faust; 2dly. An air from Jessonda sung by the prima
donna, Mrs. _Meyer_; 3dly. Grand violin concerto played to _Spohr’s_
complete satisfaction by the wonderful boy _Joachim_; 4thly. Songs with
clarinet accompaniment, by the wife of doctor _Frege_, _Mendelssohn_,
and a first-rate clarinetist, so wonderfully executed that it went
to the very heart; 5thly. ‘Weihe der Töne,’ which for years has been
a bright-shining star with the Leipzic orchestra. At the request of
_Mendelssohn_, _Spohr_, although he would rather have remained a hearer
only, took the direction of the two last subjects, on which occasion
he was greeted by the orchestra and the auditory, which consisted
of about two hundred select guests, with a storm of applause, as he
had also been saluted with upon his entrance. The whole was a grand
elevating festival, and for _Spohr_ a deeply-felt gratification.
_Mendelssohn_ was extremely amiable, and the whole evening as though
intensely happy, which proved how foreign to his mind is every feeling
of jealousy. This evening the last music party will meet at _Vogt’s_,
where _Mendelssohn_ proposes to himself an especial pleasure, not only
in taking part in _Spohr’s_ first trio as pianist, but as _viol_ in his
splendid third double quartet.”

In this manner up to the last moment was _Mendelssohn’s_ thoughtful
and kind attention evinced to _Spohr_, and upon his departure on the
following morning, when the numerous friends who had accompanied us
to the railway-station had taken leave of him, he was, as the further
accounts of the journey express it, “the last of all, who, as the train
at first proceeded slowly, ran for a considerable distance by the side
of the carriage, until he could no longer keep up with it, and his
kindly beaming eyes were the last that left their expression on the
minds of the travellers from Leipzic,” little anticipating indeed that
it was to be their last meeting on this side of the grave!

Scarcely had _Spohr_ arrived in Carlsbad, than he received a pressing
invitation from the Landgrave of _Fürstenberg_, president of the
society of music of Vienna, to direct there two grand performances
of his renowned oratorio, “The Fall of Babylon,” upon the occasion
of a festival at which 1000 singers would assist. But as this was to
take place in November, and it would be necessary to ask for another
“extraordinary” leave of absence to comply with the invitation, this
was applied for through the Austrian embassy. But notwithstanding
the signature of “_Metternich_” gave its imposing weight to the
application, the Prince refused compliance, and thus not only was
_Spohr_ prevented going, but the performance of his oratorio was
necessarily deferred to a more favourable opportunity.

Among the various incidents which this time occurred in agreeable
relief and interruption to the daily routine prescribed for taking the
baths, was first a concert given by the violinist _Ernst_, of which a
letter speaks as follows: “The concert of so celebrated a virtuoso was
quite an event for Carlsbad, and afforded us much pleasure. Besides
the song scene of _Spohr_, he played several of his own things, some
of which were very beautiful, curious compositions replete with all
manner of difficulties and wonderful artistic resorts for display,
and which he executed with great precision and ease; but although
he played _Spohr’s_ concerts with much care and great expression,
yet we have not only heard it played by _Spohr_ himself, but by his
talented pupil _Jean Bott_, much more correctly. The overcrowded house
presented a curious spectacle, for not only was the space allotted to
the spectators, but the whole stage also, occupied by the public, which
sat round disposed in a large semi-circle,” &c. But amusing scenes of
another kind also occurred at Carlsbad. One day a good-natured invalid
visitor of the baths took it into his head to give a little treat to
the fifteen young serving-women attached to the baths, at which several
hundred spectators were present; and above all, _Spohr_, with his
characteristic good humour, took great pleasure at the sight of the
assembled girls, dressed in their uniform (white gowns, green spencers,
and pink aprons), each with a fresh-gathered rose in her hair, seated
at a long table, and looking around on all the spectators with eyes
beaming with pleasure as they partook of their treat of coffee and
cake. At another time, by a similar but anonymous kind-hearted
individual a parcel was sent to _Spohr_ containing two enormous
herrings, remarkable samples of their species, with the laconic
inscription appended to them: “I love _Spohr’s_ music! The great German
_Spohr_ will not despise the accompanying quite fresh herrings, a
very rare, but permitted dish here. Carlsbad June 6.” Though _Spohr_
had always been used to receive a great variety of presents, and
frequently of the strangest kind, as tokens of esteem and admiration,
yet he had never before received one of so surprising and comical a
kind, at which, with _Ernst_, who happened to be present at the moment
he received them, he laughed very heartily, and then without much
speculation or care as to who the anonymous donor might be, ate with
much relish the delicious fish, as a change from the scant prescriptive
supper permitted to the bath patients. As the greatest moderation
not only in physical but mental exertions and enjoyments formed part
of the bathing cure, _Spohr_, as a conscientious patient, had at
first considered it a duty to refrain from every musical excitement,
particularly from that of composing, until the impulse became so
strong within him that he thought it more prejudicial to suppress by
force than to give some form to the vivid ideas that floated across
his fancy; and thus with unforced readiness flowed from his pen the
last part yet wanting to complete the fourth pianoforte trio which he
had already begun in Cassel; and it being as it were the bubbling and
overflow of the gaiety of his spirits, he was accustomed to call it by
way of souvenir of the benefit he derived from the bubbling springs of
Carlsbad, “_Der Sprudelsatz_” (The bubble piece). As however there was
no good player on the violincello in Carlsbad, he thought he should be
obliged to wait till his return to Cassel for a thorough performance of
the trio; but during a short stay at Meiningen on his return journey,
_Edward Grund_, the already frequently mentioned music director, with
incredible diligence took all the requisite measures for getting up a
quartet party on the same evening in his house, where _Spohr_ had the
unexpected opportunity of hearing his trio, with the aid of his wife
and the distinguished violincellist _Metzner_, for the first time,
which afforded also no little delight to the company present. As it
also soon became a favorite piece with the musical circles of Cassel,
_Spohr_ kept it by him for a long time in manuscript, before he sent it
to his publisher, _Schuberth_, who looked forward with truly restless
impatience to the appearance of this trio of _Spohr’s_ in order to make
it public. (Op. 135.)

In the beginning of the year 1847 the day drew near at length, the
celebration of which had for weeks beforehand set the natives of
Cassel on the tip-toe of pleasurable expectation, that, namely, of
his twenty-fifth year’s jubilee as director at the court theatre of
Cassel. The lively interest taken far and near in this festival evinced
itself in so many demonstrations of attachment and esteem towards the
individual thus honoured, that a published account of them written
by Dr. _Frederick Oetker_, the proceeds of which were devoted to
charitable purposes, formed a complete pamphlet, for a short extract
from which we have alone room here:

“Early on the morning of the 20th. January, the recipient of the day’s
honours was awakened from his slumbers by a serenade played by his
pupils _Jean Bott_ and _A. Malibran_, who, assisted by musicians of
the court orchestra, performed his second double quartet. This was
followed by a long succession of congratulatory visits from relatives,
friends, pupils, and admirers of all classes and from every quarter,
who came to express their wishes for his health and happiness. From
the society of St. Cecilia there came a well selected deputation,
composed of representatives of soprani, alti, tenori and bass, in
whose name the secretary _Knyrim_, the only remaining original member,
expressed in hearty words their grateful acknowledgement of the many
services rendered to art, and to the society in particular, by the
honoured jubilant. These were succeeded by the postmaster-general
_Nebelthau_, as member of the council of state, who presented _Spohr_
a congratulatory address in writing from the chief magistrate of
Cassel, and then the music director from Göttingen, Mr. _Wehner_,
delivered a wreath of laurel from that place, accompanied with a
congratulatory poem, and with a diploma nominating _Spohr_ an honorary
member of the singing association of Göttingen. Accompanied with a
most obliging letter the King of Prussia sent to him the order of the
red eagle, third class, and the Prince, who had some years before
already conferred upon him the Hessian order of the lion, forwarded
to him upon this occasion a further mark of distinction, nominating
him music director-general, with grant of official character at court.
The rescript of this patent was personally handed to _Spohr_ by the
chamberlain _von Heeringen_, who the previous year had been nominated
intendant-general of the court theatre, in order at the same time to
express both his good wishes and the high esteem he felt for _Spohr_
as a man and as an artist, which he moreover proved upon this occasion
by the splendid festal performances he had ordered at the theatre
in celebration of this day. This consisted in a musical-dramatic
production “of scenically connected music-pieces from the operas of
_Spohr_,” the tickets of admission to which, besides those to the
extra standing places, had been issued many days before, so that the
house was actually crammed. When _Spohr_ made his appearance in the
box in the first tier, which had been appropriated to him and his
family, he was received with the most tumultuous demonstrations of
joy, with which the strains of his overture to the opera of “Alruna”
soon mingled. This was followed by a tableau from “Zemira and Azor,”
representing the union of the lovers. After the conclusion of this
tableau, as also after each of the following scenes from _Spohr’s_
operas: “Zemira”, “Zweikampf,” “Jessonda,” “Berggeist,” “Pietro von
Abano,” “Alchymist,” and “Kreuzfahrer,” the fairy with her golden magic
wand came upon the stage and introduced the succeeding scene each
time with appropriate verses. After each piece of music the outburst
of applause was repeated, and at its conclusion redoubled in energy,
to be again resumed with equal perseverance as in succession the two
overtures to the “Mountain Sprite” and to “Faust” were executed with
remarkable precision under the direction of _Bochmann_ the military
band-master. Then followed an appropriately conceived festal-play
called “Die Huldigung” (The Homage). The scene represented a handsome
park ornamented with statues, vases and garlands; in the back ground a
modest dwelling, but richly decorated with garlands of flowers: _The
house, in which Spohr was born_, in Brunswick. Gardeners and maidens
are busied in decorating the garden; to their question as to the
purpose and occasion of the festival the steward informs them, telling
them the name of the honoured jubilant, and in citing his works speaks
also of ‘Die letzten Dinge’ and ‘Der Fall Babylons.’

“All now set up a shout of joy, and from every part of the house
rang the enthusiastic cheers of the excited assembly. Upon this the
orchestra struck up the polonaise in “Faust,” while the committee of
the fete waited on _Spohr_ to conduct him to a throne of flowers, where
he was again greeted with a poetical address, and a crown of laurel
placed upon his head “as Apollo’s favoured son,” amid the joyful vivats
of the public. After the fete at the theatre was over, and he proceeded
to partake of a family supper at the house of his son-in-law _Wolff_,
he received late in the evening a brilliant serenade from the members
of the lyrical association, who had assembled before the house by the
light of numerous coloured lamps. The singing being concluded they then
sent up a deputation to present the diploma of an honorary member of
the society to the jubilant. Thus terminated this eventful day, but not
the festivities; for the following day brought further congratulatory
addresses in prosa and verse with honours of every kind, among which
the presentation of the freedom of the city from the chief magistrate
of Cassel, and as also worthy of mention, the gift of a costly silver
vase from the joint members of the orchestra and theatrical company,
presented by the committee of the festival.”

On the twenty-second of January another grand fete took place, given
as a surprise to their friend and master by the members of the quartet
circle, so frequently adverted to. After _Spohr_ had been conducted
with great ceremony into the presence of the company, composed of about
seventy persons, a congratulatory poem composed by Dr. _Oetker_ was
read.

The musical part of the fete which now followed consisted of _Spohr’s_
third double quartet, executed under the direction of his pupil _Jean
Bott_; of two of his incomparable songs with clarinet accompaniment,
sung by a distinguished dilettante; and the pianoforte quintet with
wind-instrument accompaniment. After the conclusion of these extremely
successful performances, all adjourned in the best spirits to the
supper-room, where, seasoned with toasts both of earnest and mirthful
import, the happy evening was brought to a close in an appropriate
manner.

The account of this jubilee published shortly after by _Fr. Oetker_
gave occasion at the same time to _Spohr_ for the commencement of
his autobiography. The author of that pamphlet having at the same
time expressed the intention of following it up with a detailed
account of his life, requested _Spohr_ to furnish him first with the
necessary notes; but he himself, while making the necessary sketch
of it, took so much pleasure in recalling the varied events of each
year as they presented themselves to his memory, that he conceived
the idea of preferring to undertake its full detail himself.[40]
With a lively interest he now immediately set himself to this work,
which nevertheless proceeded but slowly, when the impulse for musical
composition assumed again its mastery. He then first wrote six _pièces
de salon_ for violin and pianoforte, distinguished by the titles:
_Barcarole_, _Scherzo_, _Sarabande_, _Siciliano_, _Air varié_ and
_Mazurka_, collected in one volume as Op. 135, published by _J.
Schuberth_; these were followed by his fourth double quartet, and
some months later, at the express wish of the Philharmonic Society of
London, by the eighth symphony (_G minor_), which appeared at Leipzic
as Op. 137 (_Peters_), in score and arranged for four hands for the
pianoforte.

[40] From this somewhat accidental origin of _Spohr’s_ autobiography
it may be readily inferred, that it contains nothing more than a
faithful picture of his eventful life, interesting to the majority of
those who take a warm interest in his musical compositions; and that it
was not his intention in any manner to have it considered in the light
of a contribution to the history of art, nor as a critical opinion
of the works of his colleagues in art, which has been here and there
erroneously expected from this biography.

Subsequently also, _Spohr’s_ activity was unusually taxed at the
theatre, as he was required for the approaching Whitsuntide holidays
to prepare not only the usual opera but also (an exceptional case)
a grand concert, in which among other things his double symphony
and his first concertante were executed by himself and his pupil
_Jean Bott_. For Whitmonday a new opera, “Arria,” by _Hugo Stähle_,
had been selected, which as the maiden-work of a young composer who
had grown up amid them had greatly awakened the interest of all
lovers of music in Cassel. Already when a boy the young musician had
exhibited such prominent talent, that _Spohr_ was induced, at the
wish of his father, Major _Stähle_ of Cassel, to take him as a pupil
in composition. With constantly increasing interest he now watched
the progress of his talented pupil, who, already a good pianist, soon
tried his hand at greater pianoforte-compositions, among which a
quartet in _A major_ (Op. 1, published by _Schuberth_) is especially
remarkable as a success. Encouraged by this, he then, though not yet
one and twenty years of age, ventured under _Spohr’s_ guidance upon
the composition of music to the opera above named, written by his
friend _Jac. Hofmeister_, and that so fully satisfied _Spohr_, that
upon his pressing recommendation its performance was determined upon
and soon put in process of execution. Though _Spohr_ experienced real
satisfaction at the highly favourable reception this opera met with
from the public, and looked forward hopefully to a brilliant future
for the young composer, this first triumph was unhappily his last; for
after the lapse of a year, he was seized with an inflammatory fever,
which arrested his career of promise by an early death!

After _Spohr_ had several times deferred his last visit to England to
direct according to invitation the performance of some of his works,
he at length resolved in the summer of 1847, to yield once more to the
reiterated invitations he had received, and to direct the three grand
concerts, in which the Sacred Harmonic Society proposed to give the
whole of his sacred pieces--oratorios, psalms, &c. At the commencement
of the theatrical vacation he therefore set out, accompanied on the
journey to England by his wife and sister-in-law, and this time by way
of the interesting cities of Brussel and Ghent to Ostend, where he
proposed to embark. A letter written home adverts as follows to their
stay in Ghent: “On our way we had been informed that upon the very
day of our arrival a grand singing festival was to take place, of the
united Flemish and German lyrical societies; but as we did not arrive
here before 7 o’clock in the evening, some time after the chief part
of the concert had begun, we thought to avail ourselves of the fine
summer evening to take a walk through the town, which we found large
and handsome beyond our expectation. Scarcely however had we proceeded
above a hundred yards when _Spohr_ was recognised by some gentlemen,
who hastened towards him with the greatest surprise, and compelled
us almost by force to go with them and hear the second part of the
concert, the first part being just finished. In this manner we were all
three hurried into a fine building, the ‘Palais de Justice’ and stood
suddenly in the immense hall filled with several thousand persons,
when at the same moment one of the gentlemen who brought us in, a
member of the committee of the festival, with a loud voice called out:
‘Messieurs, le grand compositeur _Spohr_ vient d’arriver dans notre
ville, le voici!’ At this announcement the whole assembly rose from
their seats, and clapping their hands cried: ‘Vive _Spohr_, le grand
_Spohr_!’ and a perfect shower of flowers in the shape of bouquets
large and small were showered upon him from all sides. It was long
before the tumultuous applause ceased; meanwhile seats were yielded to
us in the best places, and there we sat somewhat out of countenance in
our dusty travelling costume in the midst of handsomely dressed ladies.
But the whole scene, from its very unexpectedness, had something
extremely original and almost overpowering about it. We then heard,
with the rest, the second part of the concert, in which the different
lyrical associations sung in part with, and partly without, orchestral
accompaniment. They all met with the most lively applause, which their
execution in reality also deserved.

“It lasted until past 9 o’clock, and then a crowd of persons pressed
forward to salute _Spohr_ and to speak to him, so that it was late
enough before we got home to supper, and retired to rest. But this was
again to be of short duration, for between 11 and 12 o’clock we heard
all manner of noises and preparations for a grand serenade, which the
Ghent society ‘Des Mélomanes’ had resolved upon giving to _Spohr_.
_Nolens volens_ he was obliged to get out of bed and dress anew not
only in acknowledgement of the fine music and tremendous vivats of the
assembled crowd, but also to receive a deputation, which at the solemn
midnight hour announced to him his nomination as honorary member of the
society,” &c.

Upon _Spohr’s_ arrival in London he and his travelling companions were
again hospitably received in the friendly family of Professor _Taylor_,
and for them now began in every respect a period of great enjoyment.
The oratorio performances in Exeter-Hall appointed for every Friday,
went off with their usual finished perfection; but the programme that
had been previously determined upon had suffered from the alteration,
that in place of the “Calvary,” which it was feared would here also
excite objection on the part of the clergy, a second performance of the
“Fall of Babylon” was announced; while in the third concert, as it had
been previously determined, “Die letzten Dinge,” the “Lord’s Prayer,”
and _Spohr’s_ recently composed 84th. Psalm after _Milton’s_ metrical
translation, were given. The enthusiasm at all the three concerts,
which was scarcely susceptible of increase on all that had previously
been shewn, was evinced this time more particularly by rapturous
encores of a great number of choruses and solo pieces. The intervening
days were passed in a no less satisfactory manner, in which all
emulated in affording some enjoyment, or in testifying their respect
for _Spohr_ in various ways. In varied and constant interchange,
invitations, festivities, promenades and railway excursions succeeded
each other, one of which extended as far as 70 English miles, to the
celebrated university city of Cambridge, with its grand and peculiar
style of architecture; and another to the city of Ely, remarkable for
its situation upon a beautiful and fruitful hill rising from the midst
of a low moorland, and yet more for its beautiful cathedral, considered
one of the finest specimens of Gothic architecture in England. In
this, as a remains of its former splendour, the finest ecclesiastical
psalmody is still chanted during divine service by sixteen singers
especially maintained for that purpose, and seldom in that solitary
place could perhaps be found hearers so devoutly attentive and edified
as were _Spohr_ and his travelling companions.

In pleasant reunions with the _Horsley_, _Benedict_ and _Taylor_
families, his most intimately known friends, _Spohr_ especially
passed many happy hours, in whose circles allied so intimately to art
and artists, fine music was a never-failing enjoyment, and in which
frequently, to the delight of his hearers, _Spohr_ contributed his
personal aid. The more decidedly however, did he decline every request
to perform in public, and in one exceptional instance only consented
to assist at a concert given in his honour by the _Beethoven_ quartet
society. The programme of this concert, which displayed the heading
“Homage to _Spohr_,” comprised however on this occasion nothing of
_Beethoven_, and three compositions of _Spohr_ only, selected from
different periods of his life, viz: 1st. A quartet (_G minor_), a
production of his early youth; 2dly. A duet composed about 20 years
later, played by _Joachim_ and _Sainton_ in a masterly manner, and
3rdly. The third double quartet (_E minor_), in which _Spohr_ took the
first violin part, and by his play and by the whole composition, the
first “number” of which alone had kindled the admiration of the public,
drew down a very storm of applause. The newspapers adverted in terms
of the highest praise to the selection of the three compositions and
to their separate beauties. Upon this occasion, respecting the duets
the “Times” said as follows: “These duets for two violins belong to
the greatest productions of _Spohr’s_ richly inventive genius. Out
of seemingly small materials the great composer has achieved harmonic
effects scarcely inferior in richness and fullness to the quartet. The
duet in _E flat_ is positively overflowing with beauties of melody and
counterpoint, a perfect masterpiece.”... And added further on: “The
double quartet in _E minor_ is one of _Spohr’s_ most surpassingly rich
compositions.... Every separate theme bears the stamp of genius, and is
worked out with a perfection of finish that displays the highest degree
of intelligence.”... “If _Spohr_ had never written anything else, his
fame would have been established by this work alone, as one of the
greatest composers in the world.”... “_Spohr_ plays now but seldom in
public, but both musicians, and the general public alike, eagerly seize
the rare opportunity of hearing the greatest violinist of the present
day. His style is a pattern of purity and taste.... He not alone
produces difficulties of every kind, and handles them with the ease of
mere play toys,--but in his execution displays moreover the full energy
and inspiration of youth.”...

The end of the vacation was now rapidly drawing near, and with it
once more the hour of parting; and on the last days of his sojourn so
manifold were the demands made upon his time and attention that all his
habitual calm self possession was taxed to the utmost. With heart and
mind impressed with happy and elevating reminiscences he returned to
his native country, where with his accustomed cheerfulness and zeal he
was soon re-engaged in the performance of the duties of his post.

In the beginning of November he was plunged into grief by the sudden
intelligence of the death of his friend _Mendelssohn_, deeply lamenting
whose loss both as a man and a musician, he expressed himself as
follows in a letter to _M. Hauptmann_: “What might _Mendelssohn_ in
the full maturity of his genius not have written, had fate permitted
him a longer life! For his delicate frame the mental exertion was
too great and therefore destructive! His loss to art is much to be
lamented, for he was the most gifted of then living composers, and his
efforts in art were of the noblest!”--His next thought was to institute
a festival _in memoriam_ of the too early departed one, but as he
received for answer to his proposal to that effect, from the intendant
of the court theatre, that: “the proposed festival in memory of the
deceased could not be permitted at the concerts of the court theatre,
as it did not find approval in the highest quarters,” he determined to
give it on a smaller scale at a private concert in celebration of the
25th. anniversary of the St. Cecilia society on the 22nd. November,
and upon the occasion to inaugurate the fete with a poem composed for
the occasion with a chorus from _Mendelssohn’s_ “Paulus.” But after
everything had been arranged for the best and the grand rehearsal been
held, intelligence was suddenly received of the dangerous illness of
the Elector Wilhelm II., who resided in Frankfort, which was followed
by that of his death, and the order for a general mourning throughout
the Electorate and a desistance from every kind of music on the
following days. Hereupon, after a delay of a month, the performance of
the projected festival was again about to take place, and _Spohr_ had
once more fixed the day for it, when death once more intervened--this
time afflicting his own family with a very painful loss. On the 18th.
December _Spohr’s_ mother-in-law was seized with illness, and after a
few days’ suffering was snatched from the disconsolate family to which
she had been bound by ties of the tenderest affection. The Christmas
holidays, which had usually been with them a period of happy festivity,
were now changed to days of gloom and mourning, and the more so from
the circumstance that Mr. _Pfeiffer_ (father) was laid on a sick-bed
by the unexpected blow, and the happy reunion in the paternal house,
where _Spohr_ always felt so happy, and so well knew how to make others
so, seemed to be interrupted for a long time, if not for ever! The
subsequent weeks passed amid cares and anxieties, and not until his
father-in-law’s convalescence could _Spohr_ think of celebrating the
long-prepared-for festival.

The programme was so arranged, that it presented in chronological
order twelve music pieces of _Bach_, _Händel_, _Haydn_, _Mozart_,
_Beethoven_, _Hauptmann_, _Mendelssohn_ and _Spohr_, as specimens of
the style of each of those masters, to whose works the St. Cecilia
society during its existence of twenty-five years had especially
devoted its efforts. After the last song piece but one: “Wir preisen
selig die” &c., from “Paulus,” a poem was recited, entitled: Feeling of
sorrow upon the early death of _Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_.

This was followed by the presentation of a double breast-pin set with
diamonds, accompanied with a poetical address to _Spohr_--the subject
represented by the pin being a violin, and bass-clef. A “Hymn to
_Spohr_,” composed by _H. Stähle_, was then sung; and in conclusion,
at the banquet which followed, a discourse was delivered relative to
the origin and services of the society for the prosperity of which the
speaker himself (Mr. _Weinrich_), in the triple character of singer,
librarian, and treasurer, had laboured with unwearied zeal for many
years.

In 1848, shortly after the outbreak of the disturbances in France,
_Spohr_, somewhat under the influence of ideas of liberty, &c.,
composed his sextet for two violins, two viols and two violincellos
(Op. 140, published by _C. Luckhardt_ of Cassel), on making entry of
which in the list of his compositions, he appended the words: “Written
in March and April, at the time of the glorious revolution of the
peoples for the liberty, unity and grandeur of Germany.” And this
composition, so rich in freshness of melodies, in genuine ætherial
harmony, that scarcely any other of _Spohr’s_ works surpasses it,
furnishes an eloquent testimony to the state of his feelings and his
aspirations, which, soaring above the storms of the present, speak
only of peace, hope and concord, as in spirit he beheld them spring
out of the momentary struggles. Satisfied as _Spohr_ might feel with
this composition--the first since the dawning of the new æra upon
Germany--he nevertheless for some time wholly abandoned all further
composition, feeling, as he complained in a letter to his friend
_Hauptmann_, that “the excitement of politics and the constant reading
of the newspapers incapacitated him from giving his attention to any
serious and quiet study.”

On the 6th. August a grand popular festival took place in Cassel, which
kept the whole of the inhabitants in a state of joyous mobility for the
day. It commenced early in the morning, with the public recognition of
the imperial administrator by the garrison assembled upon the “Forst.”
This was followed by the consecration and presentation of colours to
the newly-formed corps of body-guards, combined with a grand church
service in the presence of the Electoral family upon the Bowling-green
in the Karlsaue, and in the afternoon there was a people’s festival,
in which the whole population of Cassel--a mixed troop of all
classes--flocked to the Aue, either as participators in, or spectators
of, the popular games, the dancing and the music. Towards evening, to
the surprise of everybody the Elector, in plain black dress-coat, was
seen threading his way among the joyous crowd, with looks expressive
of the cheerful interest with which he acknowledged the cheers of the
people who thronged every part of the park. The festivities of the day
were terminated by a concert under _Spohr’s_ direction, executed by the
singers and members of the choral societies of Cassel in front of the
orangery, at which also the Elector appeared, and after a lengthened
conversation with _Spohr_, asked him expressly for the song “Was ist
des Deutschen Vaterland.”

In June 1849 _Spohr_ set out for Carlsbad, and stopped on his way
thither a few days at Leipzic, where in the circle of his musical
friends, he again passed many happy hours devoted to his noble art.
On the first evening, at the house of his friend Mr. _Vogt_, two of
his latest and as yet unpublished compositions--the fourth double
quartet (_G minor_) and the but recently finished 31st. quartet (_C
major_)--both of which were subsequently published by _C. Luckhardt_
in Cassel as Op. 136 and 141. The double quartet was received more
especially with such warm admiration, that _Spohr_ gratified the wish
expressed by several of his auditors to repeat it once more on the
following day at the conservatory before a large circle, among whom
were the teachers and pupils of that institution. On the last evening,
his old friend _Moscheles_ prepared for him a brilliant fête, and
embellished the musical part of it by his own masterly performance of
_Spohr’s_ first trio, and his pianoforte quintet with wind instruments,
after which the strains of a choral song, “Honour to _Spohr_,” were
suddenly heard from the garden in front of the house, and some of his
four-part songs, some of _Mendelssohn’s_ and some of _Hauptmann’s_,
were executed in a most effective manner.

The now ensuing stay in Carlsbad, extending to several weeks, was
upon this occasion particularly pleasant in many respects. In the
intercourse with several distinguished men well known for their
public activity, _Spohr_ took great pleasure. Among these especially
were _Hansemann_ of Berlin and _Simson_ of Königsberg, to the latter
of whom, from the thorough community of sentiment in their mutual
political creed, he was especially attracted. As both men evinced at
the same time a warm love of music, they, together with their families
were soon admitted into the small circle of the elect who had the
_entrée_ to the musical performances of _Spohr_ and his wife. With
these and other charming families the afternoons were then passed in
excursions on all sides into the beautiful environs, in which _Spohr_,
although long since well acquainted with every spot, always experienced
a new delight and one equally shared by his wife.

From his stay in Carlsbad _Spohr_ also experienced the most desirable
benefit to his health, resulting in so complete and permanent
a relief to the liver complaint which had recurred at previous
frequent intervals, that, grateful as he felt for the pleasant and
health-restoring time he had passed there, he had now no further
necessity to resort to the wonderful efficacity of its waters.

Strengthened and refreshed in body and mind, he returned to Cassel,
and shortly afterwards began the composition of his fifth pianoforte
trio (_C minor_, Op. 141, published by _Schuberth_ in Hamburg); which
was followed by three duets for two soprani, published by _Peters_ of
Leipzic, which for their sweetly expressive melodies and their ease of
performance, like those which had previously appeared from the pen of
_Mendelssohn_, soon became favorite pieces in musical circles.

Towards the end of the year 1849 _Spohr_ was afflicted by a heavy
sorrow, in the sudden illness that befell his wife the day after
Christmas Day, and which increased so much in severity as to imperil
her life at the entry of the new year. At length, however, her good
and unimpaired constitution, aided by the most unremitting care,
overcame her malady, and _Spohr_ hailed once more with delight the day
when she could again resume her accustomed seat by his side at the
dinner-table. But on the next day (January 22) an untoward accident
befell himself. While on his usual daily way to the theatre rehearsal,
a sharp unexpected frost having set in during the night, he slipped,
and fell with such violence as to inflict a very severe blow on his
head, from the consequence of which the unremitting care of his
experienced medical attendant Dr. _Harnier_ did not re-establish him
till after the lapse of several weeks. Shortly after his recovery, he
wrote his ninth symphony, “Die Jahreszeiten” (The Seasons), the plan of
which had much occupied his mind during his illness, and as he himself
complained, “regularly haunted him during the long sleepless and
feverish nights.” He gave in so far a new form to it, that he divided
it into two grand themes, with the designations: Part I.: Winter,
transition to spring, spring. Part II.: Summer, transition to autumn,
autumn. Although _Spohr_ wrote the symphony in the dull cold days of
winter, the result nevertheless was just the least characteristic of
his _winterly_ intentions. While in the _spring_ theme every note rings
joyous with the glad awaking of nature,--in that of _summer_, the
sultry heat is expressed in tones the effect of which is such, that
the astonished hearer positively seems to _feel_ it--and lastly the
_autumn_, with its exhilarating music of the chase, and the masterly
interwoven Rheinweinlied (vintage song of the Rhine)--can scarcely fail
in inspiring the hearer with the most lively enthusiasm.

About this time _Spohr_, with every lover of music in Cassel,
experienced great pleasure from the visit of a young female artiste
nearly related to him. This was _Rosalie Spohr_, the second daughter
of his brother _William_. From early childhood she had evinced a
passionate love of music, and subsequently devoted herself with
unwearying zeal to the study of the harp. Although at first it was not
the wish of her parents that their daughter should perform in public,
yet when they had subsequently become convinced of her real artistic
talent, they could no longer oppose her ardent wishes, and at the age
of 22 she proceeded, accompanied by her father, upon her first musical
tour. After she had given proof of her abilities in several public
performances at Hamburg and Leipzic, she visited Cassel, where she
played several times in private circles, and at one concert at the
theatre under the direction of _Spohr_, on which occasion she not only
earned the warmest approbation of a delighted auditory but a yet more
gratifying reward in the commendatory words of her highly-esteemed
uncle. The young musician subsequently achieved many a brilliant
triumph in her further visits to the larger cities of Germany and
Holland; but her promising artistic career was shortly brought to an
unexpectedly early termination, first by deaths in her immediate family
circle, and afterwards by her marriage with count _Xavier Sauerma_.

During the summer vacation, in order at length to pay his long-promised
visit to Breslau, _Spohr_ proceeded thither by way of Leipzic in the
hope of hearing _Schumann’s_ new opera of “Genoveva;” but to his great
regret, upon his arrival there, he was informed of the delays that
had intervened to defer its performance, and was obliged to content
himself with attending several rehearsals, but which, on account of the
frequently interrupting repetitions, could naturally afford him but
a very imperfect conception of the whole work. Although by no means
an admirer of the compositions of _Schumann_ so far known to him, in
which he had frequently found a want of euphony and melodious breadth
of harmonies, he formed a very favourable opinion of the opera, and it
especially pleased him to observe that the same method of treatment
which he had resorted to in the composition of the “Crusader” had been
followed, in that _Schumann_ did not permit the unnatural interruption
of the action by a wearisome and constant repetition of words. It was
no less interesting to _Spohr_ to become acquainted with some of his
larger pianoforte compositions, the desired opportunity for which was
afforded him at the musical parties given to him, at which Mrs. _Clara
Schumann_ played a trio and pianoforte-concerto of her husband’s with
the most finished excellence, with which exception all the rest were
compositions of _Spohr’s_, among which the sextet he wrote during the
March revolution: and at an extra-concert at the Gewandhaus his newest
symphony, “The seasons,” was performed to the great delight of all who
heard it.

The remainder of his stay in Breslau, which was there expressively
designated as a “fortnight-long _Spohr_ festival,” was a continuous
round of entertainments, musical soirées, &c. The “Neue Oder-Zeitung”
describes _Spohr’s_ advent as “an event, that had set all the educated
classes of the town in commotion,” and further adds: “Everybody crowds
forward to see the German master--all are anxious to say that they
have at least had the satisfaction of a personal meeting. There is a
peculiar gratification in standing opposite to the man who, though his
eye rests upon us with the coldness of the stranger, has been long
known to us in spirit as one of our best and dearest friends--whose
works have recalled to us the golden dreams of our youth, and whose
noble creations purify our souls. All in Germany who love music and who
play, recognise the master to whom as musicians they are indebted for a
great part of their culture, for many elevating feelings, many hours of
happiness. Is it then to be wondered at that every one crowds around
the master--that all are ready to acquit part of that debt to him by
loud and honourable acknowledgements?”

His festive reception, which commenced at the very railway station,
was followed in the evening by a grand serenade and procession by
torch-light, for which all the musical and choral societies of Breslau
had met to execute the choicest pieces of music, chiefly selected from
_Spohr’s_ operas, and which at intervals they gave singly, or executed
in combination and _en masse_. At the grand concert that took place
under his own direction at the spacious and handsome Aula, his own
compositions alone were given: Overture to and air from “_Faust_,” the
third symphony, with the “Lord’s Prayer;” and the “Breslauer Zeitung”
designates it as “a musical festival singular in its kind in the city
of Breslau, for that _Spohr_ at the present time was the _only_ one who
had so much distinguished himself in every kind of composition, that
the church, the concert room, and the theatre, could equally boast of
his works; and that such a performance by such united powers (singing
academy, theatrical orchestra, society of musicians, &c.) had never
yet taken place there.” At the different banquets that were given to
_Spohr_, his music in various ways formed part of the entertainment,
and the songs that were written in his honour for the occasion had been
adapted to appropriate melodies of his, which greatly increased their
effect and frequently took the company by surprise.

At the express wish of the friends of music of Breslau, he determined
to assist personally at a concert given in the smaller saloon of the
Aula, before a great number of musical amateurs who had been invited;
in his sextet and third double quartet, of which the “Breslauer
Zeitung” speaks with much enthusiasm, and after dwelling upon the
generally acknowledged specialities of his play, says further: “that
the master at his _present age_ still possesses all those specialities;
that he plays with the fire and energy of a young man, and throws
off the greatest difficulties with a power and boldness that are
astonishing--that it is a thing quite _unusual_ and was never seen
there before.”

On the part of the directors of the theatre the happy selection of
_Spohr’s_ opera “Zemire und Azor” was made in his honour, which, with
its charming melodies, never fails to make the most pleasing impression
on the public on the first time of hearing; and with its music so truly
appropriate to its subject, opens to us as it were the bright world
of fairy land, which although more than ever fading away from the
materialistic age in which we live, yet idealised by such sweet sounds,
can never lose its fascination for the mind. This effect was produced
on this occasion in Breslau also, as demonstrated by the brilliant
reception with which it was welcomed, and the generally expressed
wish for its speedy repetition under _Spohr’s_ direction, who then
also experienced great pleasure in those two fine performances of his
work.--He was no less gratified by the organ concert given him by his
friend _Hesse_ in the fine church of St. Bernard, in which he exhibited
his great mastery of that grand instrument in every possible manner.
Devoted admirer and adherent of _Spohr_ as he was, he was still loathe
to part from him, when after a fortnight passed in Breslau he departed
with the purpose of making an excursion in the Riesengebirge with his
wife. As a guide intimate with the localities _Hesse_ accompanied
them, and was not a little gratified in witnessing the feelings of
delight with which _Spohr_ was impressed by the natural beauties of his
Silesian fatherland. Neither was music, loved music forgotten, for it
was not only the subject of daily discourse, but in the Riesengebirge
itself the powerful serenades of the music chorists of Warmbrunn and
Hirschberg greeted their master, _Spohr_.--The return journey to Cassel
was made _viâ_ Berlin, where _Spohr_ found an invitation from the
conservatory, which, although but thinly composed in summer, performed
nevertheless a part of his oratorio “Calvary” and his psalms with
double chorus in a brilliant manner, by way of compensation both to
themselves and him for his inability to comply with the invitation
they had given him almost every winter to come and either personally
direct or hear his oratorio.

Meanwhile the political state of Germany, and more particularly of
Hesse greatly grieved _Spohr_, and as the best consolation he abandoned
himself to his musical studies, the zest for which did not leave him
even in this time of trouble and sorrow. In the course of the months
of October and November he composed his seventh quintet for stringed
instruments (_G minor_, Op. 144, published by _Peters_), and three
songs from “One thousand and one days in the East,” by _Bodenstedt_
(also published by _Peters_).

It was in the summer of this year that _Spohr_ experienced the malice
and chicanery of the court. He had intended to start the first
day of his vacation for a tour in Switzerland and upper Italy. He
accordingly sent in his request to the Elector, which he considered a
mere pro-formâ matter. To _Spohr’s_ great surprise the answer was in
the negative--no leave of absence would be granted. Hereupon _Spohr_
set off without leave. He passed through the _Via Mala_, over the
Splügen to Milan and Venice, and returned over the St. Gotthard pass
to Lucern, and so back to Cassel, where he arrived before the vacation
had expired. After a short repose he availed himself of the remaining
time to pay a long-promised visit to _Wehner_ the director of the
orchestra at Göttingen, who, conjointly with all the lovers of music at
that place, used every exertion to do honour and afford gratification
to their esteemed guest. A serenade given by the members of the choral
society on the first evening of his arrival was followed on the next
morning by a musical greeting performed by the band of the regiment
lying at Nordheim in the immediate neighbourhood. At a grand concert
given at the Aula _Spohr_ directed in person his symphony “Die Weihe
der Töne,” which was followed by his potpourri on themes from Jessonda,
performed by one of his most distinguished pupils, _Auguste Kömpel_,
who when a boy had awakened the warmest interest on the part of _Spohr_
by his remarkable talent, and after having studied under him for
several years with the greatest success, was first appointed a member
of the court orchestra at Cassel and subsequently Kammermusicus and
member of the royal orchestra at Hanover.[41] As finale to the concert
_Mendelssohn’s_ music to Athalia, combined with a melodramatic poem,
was executed by the members of the Göttingen choral society; and thus
_Spohr_, who had been present at its grand rehearsal with the greatest
interest, had the much desired opportunity of becoming acquainted with
the only one of the grander lyrical compositions of _Mendelssohn_
which he had not yet heard. On the following day there was also some
excellent music.

[41] To him, as a true representative of the _Spohr_ school was the
preference given over all the competitors who bid in emulation of each
other and at very high prices for the highly coveted Stradivari violin
of his honoured master; and which became his property one year after
the decease of the latter.

_Wehner_ had made arrangements for quartet music at his own house, and
previous to a large dinner party, which he gave as a mark of respect
to _Spohr_, some exceedingly fine music was performed with the most
finished excellence, and to the delight of all present _Spohr_ himself
took part in his own sextet. The dinner was seasoned by a succession of
appropriate toasts and piquante speeches, the chief subjects of which
were music and politics, and lastly also “_Spohr’s_ bold stroke”--the
journey without leave--was drank amid the clang of glasses and the
enthusiastic cheers of the company, who highly approved of the spirit
he had shown. But the “bold stroke” was, as may be imagined, considered
with much less approbation in Cassel, and a few weeks after _Spohr’s_
return he was officially required by the general-intendant to explain
and justify “his absence from Cassel without leave.” His explanation
was considered unsatisfactory, and he was condemned to pay a fine of
550 thaler (82 _l._ 10 _s._). He went to law; but the end of it was
that he paid the money, which was handed over to the pension fund
instituted by him.

       *       *       *       *       *

It was in the midst of these troubles that he wrote a series of six
_pieces de salon_ for violin and piano and the 32nd. violin quartet
(Op. 145 and 146; Leipzig, _Peters_).

In the beginning of the year 1852 _Spohr_ received a visit from the
director of the Italian opera in London, Mr. _Gye_, who proposed to
him to direct there his opera of “Faust” during his summer vacation,
and for that purpose to write a connecting recitative instead of the
dialogue in the original, by which means alone the urgent wish of the
Queen for the performance of the opera on the Italian stage could be
gratified. As _Spohr_ at first considered that such a change would be
impossible in many of the scenes, he felt compelled to decline the
proposal; but they were not so easily to be pacified in London by so
unexpected an answer, and after receiving several further pressing
letters upon the subject, _Spohr_ set himself to work, and, contrary
to his own expectation, with such satisfactory results, that after its
completion he expressed himself upon the subject in a letter of the
21st. May to _Hauptmann_ in the following words: “You have no doubt
already heard that at the express wish of the Queen of England and of
Prince Albert I have remodelled my opera “Faust” for the grand opera.
This work has afforded me great pleasure, and agreeably engaged me for
a period of three months, in which I have been as it were transported
completely back to the happy days of my youth in Vienna. At first,
with the assistance of my wife, I had to alter the dialogue scenes
in such a manner as to adapt them to composition. In doing this I
have endeavoured to impart more interest to them than they previously
possessed, and to make elision of those things which from the first had
displeased me at many performances I had seen of this opera. I think
and hope that I have succeeded in both. I had then to replace myself
as it were in the same mood, and style in which I wrote Faust, and I
hope that I have succeeded in this also, and that no one will observe
a difference of style between the old and the new. The opera consists
now of three acts; the second concludes with the wedding scene, and
the third begins with a new entr’acte, which depicts with reminiscences
from the trio of the torch-dance and the witches’ music the night of
debauch passed by Faust, and then passes into a grand recitative by
Mephistopheles, to which his air in _E major_ is connected. After the
disappearance of the witches a recitative by Faust follows, blended
with intonations of former and later conception, and hereupon a shorter
one between him and _Wagner_, which is succeeded by the concluding
finale. My curiosity is now intense to hear the opera in its new form!
Should nothing come of the journey to London, I hope to hear it soon
at Weimar, as _Lisst_ has asked for it in its new form for the court
theatre there.”--The new recitatives thus reached London so early, that
weeks before _Spohr’s_ arrival there the study of the parts could be
commenced; but at the first rehearsal he remarked that the in every
other respect so greatly distinguished Italian singers, were not all
he could have desired in their comprehension of this to them wholly
foreign style of music, for which reason he immediately ordered daily
thorough rehearsals under his own direction, in which he soon had the
satisfaction of seeing that the whole of the singers entered more and
more into the conception and spirit of his musical intentions, and
submitted with the greatest willingness to his every nod, until every
thing went so faultlessly that after the four last grand rehearsals
which took place, and the lapse of three weeks, it was possible to give
a perfect public performance.

To avoid all seeming reiteration of the numerous musical events and
marks of respect, that in the interim were shewn to _Spohr_ on this
visit, it will suffice to mention one agreeable surprise only of
which _Spohr_ used to speak with delight in after years. This was the
magnificent performance of his oratorio “Calvary” (des Heilands letzte
Stunden) at Exeter Hall, under the excellent conducting of _Costa_; and
which, performed by greater masses of assistants than at the memorable
Norwich festival (700 singers and musicians), completely overpowered
_Spohr_ himself, as well as the enthusiastically delighted public; in
so much, that he was obliged to agree in the remark of his friends,
that the effect in many parts, especially that of the powerfully
imposing choruses, was more immense than the composer himself had even
conceived.

On Sundays, on which days, according to English custom, the theatres
are closed, there are no concerts, and even all private music is
hushed, _Spohr_ gladly availed himself of the invitations he received
to make excursions far away from the gigantic town, to recruit his
energies somewhat in the fresh air, from the daily musical fatigue and
excitement. Sometimes it was to Clapham and Kensington, on a visit to
the _Sillem_ and _Horsley_ families; sometimes farther by railway to
Sir _George Smart’s_ pleasant country-house at Chertsey, which _Spohr_
always called “the little paradise;” or to Professor _Owen’s_ in
Richmond-park; from which he always returned requickened in mind and
body to the wear and tear of London life. _Owen’s_ charming residence
and his amiable manners were always subjects of agreeable recollection
to _Spohr_, and he would often relate how the celebrated naturalist, in
his kindly unassuming manner, would come out to welcome him on a hot
summer’s day, clad in a light summer jacket and a broad-brimmed straw
hat, but in honour of “his welcome renowned guest,” decorated with the
Prussian order “pour le mérite,” and then till late in the evening
devise every possible means of affording him pleasure and entertainment.

Meanwhile the rehearsals of Faust had prospered so well, that on the
15th. July the first public performance took place under _Spohr’s_
direction, and a letter written home refers to it in the following
manner:

“The opera went off incomparably well, and made a wonderfully powerful
effect upon everybody. Indeed to us also it appeared in quite a new
light--everything was so grand, so splendid! The new additional themes
blend charmingly with the whole, and present singularly fine effects.
Decorations, scenery, all are new, exceedingly brilliant and got up
at great expense: orchestra, singers, and chorus, did their best,
so that the Londoners say, that they have not seen so splendid an
operatic performance for many years; and it was received throughout
also with the most enthusiastic applause. That the foreign (almost all
Italian) singers would have sung this German music with so much zest
and pleasure, we could scarcely have believed possible. Those who most
distinguished themselves were Mrs. _Castellan_ (Kunigunda), _Ronconi_
(Faust), _Formes_ (Mephistopheles), and _Tamberlik_ (Hugo). The latter
charmed every body, for he has a splendid tenor voice with immense
power, and he executed the beautiful air, accompanied by a magnificent
chorus of forty male voices, with such fire and irresistible power
that a _da capo_ was called for by general acclamation. And _Formes_
also, in his song in _A major_, which had greatly gained by the newly
composed exceedingly beautiful introduction and recitative scene....
The whole house was in ecstacy, and in the intervals between the
acts, and at the end, _Spohr_ was warmly congratulated by a host of
friends and admirers.” With similar success and with yet more perfect
execution, the second and third performance of Faust, under _Spohr’s_
direction, took place within a few days; after which he once more left
England, accompanied to the place of embarcation by numerous lovers of
music, who up to the last moment projected the most inviting plans for
the next summer.

Agreeably impressed with the successful issue of his journey, he
returned to Germany, picturing to himself the happy hours in which,
as was his custom, he should again relate amid the expectant circle
at home the interesting incidents of his visit. But this time the
pleasure of once more meeting the members of his family was but too
soon overshadowed, and _Spohr_ beheld with much alarm the suffering
constitution of his father-in-law, whose declining bodily strength
had for some time past excited the utmost anxiety; but which assumed
appearances so threatening during the last few weeks, that the anxious
members of his family, despite their tender care and hopefulness,
could no longer deceive themselves as to the near approach of his
dissolution. With sorrowing hearts they beheld with every day the
nearer approach of the long-dreaded moment; till on the 4th. October
1852, the loved and honoured parent breathed his last. This sad event
cast an enduring shadow over _Spohr’s_ life, for with his wife he not
only lamented the loss of the beloved father, but mourned thenceforth
that of the truthful friend whose feelings and sentiments had been so
congenial with his own.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the autumn of 1852 the duties of _Spohr’s_ office were unexpectedly
much alleviated by the nomination of a second director; an appointment
which indeed, with his great activity and as yet unimpaired powers,
he had never contemplated as a thing to be desired; but which was
nevertheless the more agreeable to him from the circumstance that
the newly-created appointment was given to his favorite pupil,
concert-master _Jean Bott_, in order to secure his rejection of the
post of musical director at Hanover, which had been offered to him
under very favourable circumstances. By this means the Cassel court
orchestra was saved the loss of so distinguished a member, and his
services were fully secured. _Spohr_ consented also very willingly
to the requisitions of the managers of the theatre to abandon to the
direction of the new co-director the operas proposed, and suggested but
few modifications in this arrangement. By this means _Bott_ assumed the
direction of a number of light operas, chiefly French and Italian, but
undertook as heretofore to lead as first violin in the orchestra under
_Spohr’s_ direction in all grand German operas, which were reserved
to the latter. The repertory of the new and zealous co-director soon
received an interesting addition, for in the beginning of the year
1853 _Shakspeare’s_ “Midsummernight’s Dream,” with _Mendelssohn’s_
music, was performed on the Cassel stage for the first time; on which
occasion _Spohr_ expressed himself in the following words in a letter
to _Hauptmann_: “The most charming music that I know of _Mendelssohn_
is indeed his music to the “Midsummernight’s Dream,” which has at
length been performed here also, and right well. _Bott_ practised
the orchestra in the music most assiduously, and for me it was a
great enjoyment to be enabled for once to listen as auditor to the
performance of good music.” In regard to _Spohr’s_ own labours the same
letter then speaks further: “We are now studying ‘Tannhäuser,’ (which
the Elector has at length permitted), and we shall give that opera for
the first time on Whitmonday. It will be put on the stage with the
greatest care and both decorations and costumes will be rich. There is
much that is new and beautiful in the opera, but much also that is most
distressing to the ear. For the violins and basses it is more difficult
than anything I ever yet met with,” &c.

After the first performances of this difficult work had passed off
in the most successful manner, _Spohr_ wrote again respecting it to
his friend _Hauptmann_: “‘Tannhäuser’ was performed last night for
the third time, and again to a full house. The opera has gained many
admirers, by reason of its earnestness and its subject-matter, and when
I compare it with others produced of late years, I am also of their
way of thinking. With much of what was at first very disagreeable to
me I have become familiarised from frequent hearing; but the want of
rhythm, and the frequent absence of rounded periods is still to me very
objectionable. The manner in which it is performed here is really very
fine, and in few places in Germany can be heard with such precision.
In the enormously difficult ‘ensembles’ of the singers in the second
act, not one single note was omitted last night. But with all that, in
several parts these assume a shape which make a downright horrifying
music, particularly just before the part previous to where Elizabeth
throws herself upon the singers who rush upon Tannhäuser.--What faces
would _Haydn_ and _Mozart_ make, were they obliged to hear the stunning
noise that is now given to us for music!--The choruses of pilgrims
(but which are here supported by clarinets and bassoons _p_.) were
intonated so purely last night, that I became somewhat reconciled for
the first time to their unnatural modulations. It is astonishing what
the human ear will by degrees become accustomed to!” &c.

Although, as may be inferred from the above remarks, _Spohr_, with his
preminent sentiment for harmony and beautiful, regular forms in music,
could not readily reconcile himself to the tonic creations of more
modern times, which so frequently deviate from them, he nevertheless
took a lively interest in them, and was so anxious to become acquainted
with _Wagner’s_ newest opera “Lohengrin,” that while awaiting the
as yet witheld permission of the Elector for a full theatrical
performance, he determined upon giving some scenes from it at the
ensuing winter concerts, and wrote to _Hauptmann_ on the subject as
follows: “If you wish to afford us a pleasure by sending something for
our winter concerts, let me ask of you the music to ‘Lohengrin.’ I was
in correspondence with _Wagner_ this summer, and he knows that I am
exerting myself to put that opera upon the stage here, also. He will
therefore have no objection to a performance of some scenes beforehand.
I shall write to inform him of it also upon a fitting occasion, but I
do not like to renew the correspondence on the subject, without being
empowered to ask at the same time for the score for our theatre, which
will not be before next summer, for the birthday of the Elector.” This
expectation was nevertheless not realised, for the Elector’s permission
was neither granted for the day appointed, nor upon a subsequent
reiterated solicitation; and in this manner _Spohr_ was never enabled
to hear this opera, which both in Cassel and other places he had
repeatedly striven to do.

With the approach of the vacation of the summer 1853 _Spohr_ made
preparation once more (for the sixth and last time) for the journey
to England, whence in the month of January he had received, (and as
chance would have it upon the same day) two letters of invitation from
two wholly different parties. One, from the theatre-director _Gye_,
contained a recapitulation of the plan formed in the previous summer,
of bringing out an Italian translation of _Spohr’s_ “Jessonda” during
the approaching season; the other, from Dr. _Wylde_, the director of
the recently instituted New Philharmonic Society, contained a pressing
invitation to _Spohr_, to undertake the direction of the grand concerts
which the society contemplated giving during the summer months. The
latter attractive invitation was the one that decided his yet wavering
resolution, since it was of the greatest interest to him to procure a
hearing for his grander orchestral compositions, which would there be
performed with all that power which was already known to him, before
a public who, like all the performers, understood so thoroughly the
spirit of his music.

Scarcely had he arrived in London than an agreeable musical surprise
awaited him, for on his first visit to Dr. _Wylde_ he was pressed
by him to proceed immediately to a morning concert then about to
take place, and arrived there just in time to hear an excellent
performance of his nonett, and at the conclusion was warmly greeted
by the audience, to whom the announcement of the presence of the
composer was both an agreeable and sudden surprise. Under similar
circumstances he was present the next evening at the last Philharmonic
concert in the Hanover Square Rooms, where he was greatly gratified
by the very successful performance of his historical symphony, which
was enthusiastically applauded. A few days afterwards the first of
the concerts of the New Philharmonic Society took place under his
personal direction, of which mention is made as follows in a letter
written home: “Last evening _Spohr_ consummated the first of his great
achievements; the direction of the fine New Philharmonic concerts in
Exeter-Hall, where he was again received with the same enthusiasm as
formerly, and which was manifested throughout the whole performance.
We found our exalted expectations of this gigantic orchestra, wholly
composed of musicians of high standing, fully realised, and the
impression made by the immense mass in the spacious and densely
crowded hall was truly grand and imposing. Even the ninth symphony of
_Beethoven_, abnormal as are many things therein, and especially the
last subject, with the ‘song to pleasure,’ executed in the finished
manner it was, afforded a real enjoyment. _Spohr’s_ ‘Overture in the
severe style’ opened the concert, and had a grand effect; as also that
of ‘Jessonda,’ which was even encored. This was followed by the tenor
song in ‘Jessonda,’ splendidly sung by _Th. Formes_, and received with
tumultuous applause,” &c.

Not less interesting also was the programme of the last concert
directed by _Spohr_; it comprised besides his own compositions--a
quartet concerto, a double symphony, and the overture to the “Mountain
Sprite,”--the _D major_ symphony of _Beethoven_, the overture
to “Fidelio,” the duet for two pianofortes of _Mendelssohn_ and
_Moscheles_ (executed by Miss _Claus_ and Miss _Goddard_), and some
other pieces. The performance of the whole of the pieces of music
was all that could be desired, and in regard to the fine effect of
_Spohr’s_ symphony, a letter specially remarks: “The double symphony
seemed as though it had been written expressly for such orchestral
powers and for this place. The lesser orchestra was, in accordance with
several trials made at the rehearsal, placed high up above, and apart;
and sometimes between the powerful and imposing masses of tone of the
larger orchestra it sounded really like music from another sphere.”

The chief object of _Spohr’s_ journey to London was thus once more
fully achieved: but on the other hand the projected performance
of “Jessonda” during the same time, met with numerous unexpected
obstacles. In order to allow _Spohr_ the number of rehearsals he
considered necessary for the study of the work, another opera, also
a newly studied one, “Benvenuto Cellini,” by _Berlioz_, was selected
for performance during the intervening opera nights; and as is the
custom, was to be repeated several times without further rehearsal.
But upon the very first night of its performance, it met with a
very unfavourable reception from the public, and _Spohr_ himself,
interested as he felt to hear this much-talked-of music, respecting
which opinions were so conflicting, was not much edified thereby, as
appears from a letter written to his friend Mr. _Lüder_: “In the opera
of _Berlioz_, which I heard in London this summer, there are some fine
things, but scarcely has one begun to feel interested in it, than there
comes a something so bizarre and harsh, that all the pleasure one has
felt is destroyed. I have a special hatred of this eternal speculating
upon extraordinary instrumental effects, for his opera contains without
doubt many really happy conceptions both melodic and dramatic, and
these are always marred by them. This it was also that displeased the
London public, which was at first very favourably disposed towards
him, and received him upon his entering the orchestra with loud
applause; but as the opera proceeded their dissatisfaction increased,
until at length, upon its conclusion, the audience broke out into one
general storm of hisses and whistling; a circumstance never known to
have occured before at the Italian opera in London in presence of the
Queen!--It is with _Berlioz_ as with all the other coryphées of the
music of the future; they do not abandon themselves to their natural
feelings in their work, but speculate on things which have never yet
been. That is the reason why these gifted musicians seldom write
anything that is enjoyable, particularly for people who in the last
century grew up in the knowledge of _Haydn_, _Mozart_ and _Beethoven_,”
&c. With so explicit an opinion as that pronounced by the London
public, the theatrical direction did not dare risk a second performance
of the opera, and other operas were obliged to be substituted, which
required also several rehearsals, and “Jessonda,” which was as yet
only in the first stage of study, was still farther postponed. This,
nevertheless, was no great source of uneasiness to _Spohr_, and the
time thus gained was agreeably occupied by him in other musical
enjoyments.

On this visit indeed _Spohr_ and his wife found a home replete with
every domestic comfort in the house of Dr. _A. Farre_, who emulated
with his kind lady in his attentions towards them, and kindly
devoted every hour that his professional engagements permitted to the
entertainment of his guests; in this manner a warm friendship was soon
established between the two families, and the weeks passed under his
roof were ever recalled by _Spohr_ as among the most pleasing of his
recollections. As Dr. _Farre_ and several of his medical colleague
were very musical and good singers, they had formed themselves, in
conjunction with some other families devoted to the art, into a musical
circle, in which music of a high class was zealously cultivated, and
that of _Spohr_ was more especially the favorite. In a soirée of this
kind he had one evening the agreeable surprise to hear his oratorio
“Die letzten Dinge” performed by eight and twenty dilettanti with
faultless precision, a production which, in rare contrast with the
habitual English taste for massive instrumentation, appealed to the
feelings in the most pleasing manner by the _perfect purity_ and
intensity of its expression. At a brilliant musical soirée given by
Dr. _Farre_ himself, in compliment to his guests, a succession of
pieces selected from _Spohr’s_ different operas was also given in
the most efficient manner, and was subject of no small surprise and
gratification both to him and the assembled company.

Meanwhile, the rehearsals of “Jessonda” had slowly proceeded, it
is true, but there had arisen so many causes for a delay in its
production, that before this could take place, the period of his
vacation expired, and _Spohr_ was obliged to leave London for Germany;
but in doing so he had the satisfaction of leaving his opera in charge
of a worthy representative, Mr. _Costa_, under whose direction, a
fortnight afterwards, it was performed several times with the most
brilliant success.

Upon his landing at Calais _Spohr_ was warmly received by the amateurs
of music of that town, who had become apprised of the day of his
arrival, and he was invited by them to a grand entertainment given in
his honour. Its chief feature was a luxurious banquet, but of which
also an agreeable musical surprise formed a part; for at the conclusion
of the dinner the pleasing notes of _Spohr’s C minor_ quartet were
heard in the adjoining apartment, which was followed by the execution
of several other pieces, and continued up to the departure of the
delighted guests at a late hour. This day, so unexpectedly passed in
Calais in the midst of musical and festive enjoyments, was a subject
of special gratification to _Spohr_, as he had least of all expected,
here, upon the soil of France, to have met with such proofs of esteem
and so much admiration for his music.

On the return journey he was much occupied with an idea which he had
conceived in England of a new grand composition for the pianoforte
with instrumental accompaniment, and which upon his arrival home
he forthwith began with zest and spirit. Thus was produced--in the
seventieth year of _Spohr’s_ age--one of his finest masterpieces,
the septet for pianoforte, two stringed and four wind instruments,
replete with the freshness of youthful thought in every part, with
a _larghetto_ which has scarcely its equal in bewitching harmony
and beauty of modulations. While yet in manuscript it was publicly
performed at the next subscription concert, on which occasion both
the composition and the excellence of the execution met with the
most favourable reception and acknowledgement. The pianoforte part,
which was as grateful as it was difficult, was taken by _J. Bott_,
and the audience testified yet more warmly their just appreciation of
his execution from his having displayed also on the same evening his
brilliant talent as violin player in _Spohr’s_ 15th. violin concerto.
By the desire of the lovers of music of Cassel, a repetition of the
new septet was given at the next concert; after which, while yet in
manuscript, it was performed at one of the quartet soirées in Leipzic,
and the fullest justice done to the pianoforte part by the truly
artistic execution of _Moscheles_, and received there by the public
with the most gratifying applause.

For the next summer vacation (1854) _Spohr_ had contemplated another
journey to Switzerland; and so great this time was his desire to
pass once more the most pleasant summer month in the undisturbed
enjoyment of the beauties of nature, that the numerous invitations
he had received to the musical festivals in England and Holland were
powerless to induce him to relinquish his long previously projected
plan. As he was on the eve of departing, he received by telegraph a
farther pressing entreaty from his grand-daughter _Antonia Wolff_
at Ratisbonne, who had there married a collegiate professor, a Mr.
_Schmitz_, and who besought him to go by way of the old imperial
city, where a visit from him had long been anxiously desired by all
lovers of music, and to pass a few days with his grand-children and
great-grand-children. Attractive as was this invitation, _Spohr_ with
regret felt compelled to decline it, his holidays being so strictly
limited; and no railroad existing at that time to Ratisbonne, it would
have led him too far out of his projected route.--After a short sojourn
at Marburg, Heidelberg, and Baden-Baden--so famed for the beauty of
their respective environs--he proceeded to the south of Switzerland,
and especially enjoyed the voyage by steamboat upon the magnificent
lakes. After a few days’ stay at Lausanne, Geneva, and Vevay,
further excursions were then made into the more easily accessible
neighbourhood, where all around smiled in summer’s rich attire, while
beyond the lake rose in majestic contrast the lofty chain of the Alps,
with its snow-capped summits.

Leaving the lake of Geneva the travellers continued their journey
to Freiburg and Bern, at both which places quite unexpectedly calls
were made upon the interest they took in music. At Freiburg, as soon
as they had alighted at the hotel, _Spohr_ was invited to join the
other strangers present in a subscription towards the honorarium
which it was there customary to tender to the organist of the church
of St. Nicholas, for the performance of a piece of music upon its so
much celebrated organ. At the appointed hour, just as the shades of
evening closed around, the small party assembled, and solemnly pealed
the tones of the mighty organ through the spacious and empty aisles
of the stately church, producing their wonted powerful effect upon
_Spohr_. The organist, either not aware of the high musical authority
before whom he was playing, or thinking to impose on him like the other
strangers present by the exhibition of his wonderful artistic skill,
struck up suddenly in the most inappropriate manner sundry things from
modern operas, and then concluded with such a thundering peal on the
instrument that the first exalted impression was wholly obliterated and
_Spohr_ could not forbear the undisguised expression of his disapproval
of such a profanation of the grand fabric of sounds, which, with its
inscription: “_In majorem gloriam dei_,” seemed rather to him in a more
exalted degree worthy alone to intonate the praises of God.

Scarcely arrived in Bern, _Spohr_ was surprised to see notices stuck
up at the corners of the streets announcing two concerts of sacred
music in which his oratorio “Die letzten Dinge” formed the chief
feature of each, though preceded on the first evening by a cantata by
_Sebastian Bach_, and on the second by four of _Marcello’s_ Psalms.
The first concert had already taken place the evening before, but as
a great number of hearers as well as performers had come in from the
neighbouring towns to the second concert, Mr. _Edele_, the director of
the “Society of Ancient Classical Music” at Bern, had made arrangements
to give a repetition of the oratorio on the next evening, so that at
this second performance of it _Spohr_ was enabled to hear it executed
with the greater precision. As the news of _Spohr’s_ presence soon
spread through the church, the opportunity was seized of giving the
composer of the work which had just been performed with such devout
inspiration, a public mark of the great esteem in which he was held
in Bern; and in the later part of the evening he was suddenly greeted
by a quickly improvised serenade, and addressed in several animated
speeches. On the following morning _Spohr_ left Bern, and after
spending several pleasant days with his female fellow-travellers in
the Bernese Oberland and on the shores of the Vierwaldstädter Lake,
he continued his journey across the Lake of Constance to Bavaria and
its capital, Munich, where the much-talked-of grand exhibition of
industry had just been opened. Though the one week spent there may
have been found scarcely sufficient to see all the treasure of art and
manufacture which had been collected partly for permanent and partly
for a short exhibition only, the travellers do not appear to have
thought a longer stay desirable, for they soon experienced also the
prejudicial influence of the bodily and mental over-exertion, which,
combined with the still more injurious climatic influences which during
that disastrous summer carried off so many of the visitors to that
then overcrowded city. Under such circumstances nothing could be more
desirable than a visit to Alexandersbad, where Dr. _Theodor Pfeiffer_,
a near relative, and proprietor of the cold-water-cure establishment,
had long kindly invited them. A short stay in that place, with its
healthful mountain air, sufficed to restore their depressed animal
spirits, and _Spohr_ gladly joined in all the social parties in their
excursions to the romantic environs, and shared in all the cheerful
parties of the company at the baths, which in kindly social spirit
lived as one family. All this, together with the whole arrangements and
rules of life, which were simple and in accordance with nature, were
so much to _Spohr’s_ taste, that from that time he always considered
Alexandersbad as the beau-ideal of an invigorating summer residence,
and after another visit there he firmly maintained that opinion for the
rest of his life.

_Spohr_ commenced the following year (1855) with the composition of six
four-voice part-songs for soprano, alto, tenor and bass, which were
soon after excellently sung at a private concert of the St. Cecilia
society with double vocal support, under his own conducting, and aided
by his own powerful bass. They made an unusual sensation among the
lovers of music present, above all one entitled “Man’s Consolation”
(the words by _von Müller von der Werra_), which went home to all
hearts.

In the spring of the same year, _Spohr_ obeyed an invitation from the
king of Hanover to direct his double symphony, and several other of
his compositions, at a grand concert. Upon his arrival at the railway
terminus he was met by music-director _Wehner_, at the head of a
numerous body of musicians and friends of the art, and in the evening
at the hotel he was saluted with two serenades, by the military band,
and the members of the choral society. On the subject of the pleasant
days he passed in Hanover upon that occasion both in a musical and
festive point of view, _Spohr_ wrote to his friend _Hauptmann_: “I
enjoyed myself much on my little excursion to Hanover. I played a
quartet at the King’s, and it seemed to me that his musical culture
went so far as to like that kind of music. At a morning concert got up
by the chapel royal to let me hear two of my compositions which they
had very carefully practised, I played also my quartet (_E minor_). The
compositions adverted to were the 7th. violin concerto, executed in a
very masterly manner by _Joachim_; and the first double quartet, of
which _Kömpel_ played the first violin in the first, and _Joachim_ in
that of the second quartet. This also, was played in the most finished
manner. On the second day the chapel royal gave a first rehearsal of
my symphony, “The Terrestrial and Divine in human Life,” which was
followed by a grand dinner, which lasted five hours, and during which
the speeches, songs and toasts were numerous and varied. Although
much exhausted I was obliged to go to a musical party in the evening
given by my old friend _Hausmann_, where I played two of my quartets,
and as on the previous evening, did not get to bed till two o’clock.
On the third day there was a grand rehearsal in the forenoon, and in
the evening the concert for the benefit of the poor, for which the
King had sent me the invitation to come to Hanover. I conducted the
first half, consisting of the overture and duett from ‘Jessonda’ and
my symphony. All these, executed in a masterly manner, particularly
the double symphony, which I never heard better played, not even in
London. The small orchestra led by _Joachim_ was composed of the élite
of the chapel royal and was very conveniently placed on the stage, so
that it was advantageously separated from the large one. The latter
was composed of twenty violins, six viols, five violincellos and five
counter-basses. It contrasted well therefore by its imposing power, in
the sonorous and not too spacious theatre, with the solo orchestra upon
the stage. The effect was very satisfactory. But in fact the orchestra
is a very superior one, particularly in the stringed instruments. The
harmony comprises certainly several distinguished virtuosi, but in
ensemble, it is neither so even in tone, nor so pure in intonation as
ours. The second part of the concert was conducted by _Fischer_; it
consisted of the overture to “Euryanthe,” _Beethoven’s_ violin concerto
(with new, superfluously long, very difficult and ungrateful, cadences
by _Joachim_), and some ‘numbers’ of ‘Lohengrin.’ The concert was
crowded and must have brought in a round sum to the poor-box.--On the
morning before I left a deputation from the chapel royal presented me
with a leader’s bâton more rich and tasteful in design than anything
of the kind I ever saw. As I afterwards learned, it was made by order
of the king, to be presented to me by the chapel royal. It consists
of a beautifully grooved ivory staff with a golden handle richly set
with coloured stones, with a similar gold ornamentation at the top,
ending in a knob set likewise with small stones. The whole thing is
extremely tasteful, and has upon the handle in raised letters: ‘The
Royal Hanoverian Chapel to Music-director-general Dr. _Spohr_, March
31st. 1855.’ The Elector, who sent for the work of art to inspect
it, expressed himself, as I am told, upon returning it, with very
unreserved dissatisfaction that the inscription did not express
‘Director-general of Music to the Elector,’ and said, “who will know
hereafter whose director general of music he was!”[42] &c.

[42] The leader’s bâton here described with such evident satisfaction,
formed a worthy companion to a scarcely less costly and tasteful
one that _Spohr_ had been presented with by his faithful pupil _F.
Böhme_ of Holland. He was always very proud of such appropriate and
artistically executed presents, and it was always his custom to take
them out of their respective cases with his own hands, and to replace
them after use with equal care.

The first impression experienced by _Spohr_ on his return from
Hanover, was also an agreeable one, for he found at home a telegraphic
message that had arrived during his absence, to the following effect:
“Inspruck, March 27th. 1855, 10 m. p. 10 at night. One hundred and
fifty dilettanti of Inspruck, who have just performed the music of
“Jessonda” with rapturous applause, send to the master their heartfelt
greetings.” The letters which subsequently arrived from Inspruck
informed him in a more detailed manner, “that the opera had been three
times performed there in the national theatre to crowded houses, for
the benefit of the fund for the relief of the poor, and in a manner
surpassing all expectation, by musical and vocal dilettanti;” and
expressed at the same time “the hope that the friends of music in that
place would have the gratification of greeting the honoured and veteran
composer in their own mountains in the course of the year, and hear
again that classic opera under his own personal direction.”

That hope however was not realised, for the journey contemplated
this year was in the opposite direction, towards the north; first to
Hamburg, where _Spohr_ had not been since the great fire in 1842, and
was therefore greatly interested to see the magnificent manner in which
it had been rebuilt. Fully satisfied in that expectation, he had at
the same time the pleasure of seeing again several much-loved friends
(among whom the family of the _Grunds_), and to hear many successful
musical performances, both in private and public circles.--Being so
near to the sister town Lubeck, to which his wife was still fondly
attached, and for whose kind-hearted inhabitants he himself, since his
visit in the year 1840, had a predilection, it was natural that both
should much desire to make a trip thither, upon the railway which had
since then been opened to connect the two towns. Although it is true
that during the fifteen years which had elapsed, many former friends
had gone to their last rest, yet the venerable old instructor was still
living, and met his former lady pupil and her renowned husband with
the same warmth of heart. Verging upon eighty years of age, he had
recently retired from professional life, but the institution he had
so long successfully directed flourished still, conducted in the same
spirit by his worthy son Dr. _Adam Meier_; and _Spohr_ and his wife,
deeply moved by his touching kindness, took up their abode beneath the
hospitable roof that was so endeared to them by past recollections.--As
the interests of music were also well represented by Kapellmeister
_Hermann_, a former pupil and a warm partizan of _Spohr_, the days
passed agreeably in social intercourse with old friends and new
acquaintances.

In the course of the year 1855 _Spohr_ wrote his 33rd. violin quartet
(Op. 152, published by _Siegel_ of Leipzic) and three grand duets for
two violins (Op. 148, 150 and 153, published by _Peters_ of Leipzic)
which last he dedicated to the brothers _Alfred_ and _Henry Holmes_ of
London. Neither could he have commended his work to better hands to
ensure a performance and publicity worthy of them, for although those
young artists never had the advantage of his personal instruction, yet
by dint of a diligent study of his “Violin School,” they had become so
penetrated with the spirit of his composition and his style of play,
that _Spohr_ during his last stay in England had been exceedingly
gratified to hear his older violin duets executed by the two talented
youths in a really masterly manner; and when a few years afterwards,
upon an artistic tour on the continent, they visited Cassel, they
caused, as _Spohr_ himself remarks in a letter: “everywhere the
greatest sensation by their splendid play, and especially excited
admiration by the highly finished and surprising performance of his
duets and concertantes.”

In the spring of 1856 _Spohr_ received a letter from a former pupil,
the director of music _Kiel_, of Detmold; where upon, at the desire of
his Prince, he proposed to _Spohr_ the composition of some songs for
a baritone voice, with pianoforte and violin accompaniment. Although
doubtful at first that such a combination would be suited to a deep
male voice, he nevertheless interested himself in the trial, and in a
short time he wrote a collection of six songs of the required kind,
with which he himself felt highly satisfied. He then gave a hearing
of them in manuscript to his musical friends in his own house, in
which he himself took the violin part, which had proved of a somewhat
difficult nature, and gave the voice part to _Heinrich Osthoff_
an ex-concert-singer, who for some years past had been settled in
Cassel as a teacher of music, and who from his particularly excellent
and expressive execution of all _Spohr’s_ song pieces, sacred and
otherwise, was a welcome guest in all musical circles. In Detmold also,
the new songs dedicated to the Prince were very favorably received,
and the Prince, as his director of music informed _Spohr_, sang them
every day with increased satisfaction. When _Spohr_ shortly afterwards
forwarded the first printed presentation copy (published by _Luckhardt_
of Cassel, Op. 154) to the musical prince, the latter in an autograph
letter of thanks thus expressed himself: “that the great pleasure the
fine songs already gave him would be yet increased when he should have
the opportunity of singing them with _Spohr’s_ own accompaniment.”
The obliging letter was at the same time accompanied by a valuable
souvenir, in the shape of a shirt-pin with the appropriately selected
emblems of an oak-leaf in green gold, with an acorn of pearl set in
gold, presented to _Spohr_ as an honourable acknowledgement “of his
true _German_ worth as musician and as man.”

The first weeks of the summer vacation were passed by Spohr in a
very pleasant and recreative journey to Dresden, Saxon Switzerland
and Prague; after which, having reposed a short time in his own
beautiful flower-garden, he undertook a journey into the Harz, at
the solicitation of an enthusiastic musical friend, the jurisconsult
_Haushalter_ of Wernigerode.

The increased leisure time gained by _Spohr_ in consequence of the
appointment of his new colleague he now devoted to composition, for
which, despite his advanced age, the impulse and love had not yet
diminished. Though his musical ideas may no longer have flowed so
copiously, and assumed as readily the form he wished, as in former
years, and though he himself at times expressed doubts as to whether
his later works would take equal rank with his earlier compositions,
yet he frequently received an enthusiastic recognition of the merit of
his newest compositions from quite unexpected quarters, which always
gave him fresh courage to continue his musical creations.

_Spohr_ now determined to write another quartet (his 34th.), upon
terminating which he immediately opened the winter series of his
still continued quartet circle with it. Although this new composition
was considered extremely fresh and charming by both co-operators and
auditory, yet he himself was so little satisfied with it, that after
repeated alteration, which were rejected as soon as made, he laid
aside the whole quartet as a failure; nor did he write another until a
whole twelvemonth had elapsed: this differed in every respect from the
former, and he substituted it for it under the same number. Upon its
first performance at the quartet meeting this piece of music pleased
him right well; but shortly afterwards it seemed to him to require
many improvements, and as these did not turn out to his satisfaction,
sorrowfully, but resigned to the consciousness that he could no longer
carry out in a satisfactory manner the ideas which floated before his
fancy, he associated the new 34th. quartet with that which he had
previously rejected, and expressed the wish to his wife that neither
should at any time be made public.

He came to a similar decision in respect to a symphony which he had
composed shortly before, which was performed once only in the presence
of a few only of his most intimate musical friends, at a rehearsal by
the court orchestra of Cassel. Notwithstanding the numerous beauties
and novelties in thought which it contains, to him nevertheless it
did not appear worthy of being placed in the fine catalogue of his
earlier written symphonies, and in this manner by himself was this--his
tenth--symphony condemned, not to destruction it is true, but to
eternal concealment.

In the summer of 1857 _Spohr_ availed himself of the vacation to go to
Holland, his former visit there being still borne by him in pleasing
recollection, he had therefore long been desirous of proceeding thither
with his wife to shew her that country, as yet unvisited by her, and
remarkable for so many peculiarities. Little as he had calculated
upon any musical enjoyments there at such a season of the year, his
pleasure was great to hear on the very first evening at _Verhulst’s_,
in Rotterdam, in a numerous circle of musicians and lovers of music,
several quartets both of his own and of _Verhulst’s_ composition,
upon which occasion the violinist _Tours_, whose acquaintance he had
formerly made, proved himself a great virtuoso, as first violin. The
director of music _Böhm_, of Dortrecht, who had shown from his youth
a strong attachment to the honoured master, exhibited it anew by the
unwearying attention with which he strove to alleviate all the cares
and difficulties of travel in a foreign country, and took them wholly
upon himself. Willingly following the arrangements of the excellent
“travelling marshall,” as _Spohr_ was wont playfully to call him, the
travellers were now enabled to see the many remarkable objects in the
chief cities of Holland in a comparatively much shorter time, after
which a further journey was undertaken from Amsterdam to that part of
North Holland lying beyond the Y. The singular topographical feature
of the whole country, the meadows intersected by innumerable canals
and lakes, meadows covered with grazing cattle, the hundreds of gaily
painted windmills, the cheerful blue sky, and the easy travelling upon
the smoothly paved highroads, more like the parquetted floors of an
apartment--in short, the whole delightful journey, with its interesting
final objects, the celebrated places Saardam and Broek, presented a
succession of charming pictures that surpassed all expectation and put
_Spohr_ in particular in the most cheerful possible mood.

Their kind “marshall” _Böhm_ accompanied the travellers on their return
as far back as Utrecht, but placed them there in good hands, under the
hospitable roof of one of _Spohr’s_ grateful pupils, the director of
music _Kufferath_, with whom they passed some exceedingly pleasant
days. As the country round Utrecht abounds with handsome country-seats
and parks, these furnished occasion for frequent delightful walks with
the family of their host; and the musical entertainments given to
_Spohr_--a quickly arranged organ-concert got up by _Nieuvenhuisen_,
the organist of the cathedral, and a grand serenade by torch-light in
the evening--made the memory of those days worthy of being associated
with the pleasing reminiscences of his former visit.

On the return-journey _Spohr_ stopped a day at Cologne, where _Hiller_,
the director of music, quickly improvised a brilliant dinner-party in
his honour, and afterwards gratified him with the performance of some
highly interesting musical pieces in his own house. _Hiller_ himself
played with great spirit a recently composed sonata for the pianoforte
of extreme difficulty of execution, some numbers of the comic opera
composed by him called: “Jest, cunning and revenge,” which was received
with universal satisfaction, and by _Spohr_ in particular with lively
applause. This was succeeded later in the evening by a musical
surprise; the celebrated Cologne choral society, wholly composed of
male voices, had assembled in all silence in the hotel, and at the door
of their honoured guest sang their finest songs in the most masterly
manner, which, together with a spirited address, spoken by professor
_Bischof_, afforded him very great pleasure.

Gratified in every respect with his journey, _Spohr_ returned to
Cassel, where, reinvigorated and refreshed, he devoted himself with
his usual zeal and interest to the materially lightened labours of his
office, shared now with his young and active colleague.

Meanwhile, at that time was heard here and there the report that it was
contemplated to pension him off; but when he was apprised of this by a
friend, and it was put to him whether he would not rather anticipate
such an intention by proposing himself to retire upon his pension, he
replied with decision, that: his duty and inclination impelled him
alike to remain in the performance of his official engagements so long
as he could fulfil them satisfactorily. Thus things remained on the old
footing, until on the 14th. November, both contrary to his wish and
expectation, he received the following rescript from the Elector:

“In pursuance of our most gracious will and pleasure, we have granted
to the director-general of music and court Kapellmeister at our
court-theatre, Dr. _Louis Spohr_, by reason of his advanced years,
permission to retire into private life, and have been further pleased
to grant him a yearly pension of 1500 Thalers from our court treasury
from the date of the month next ensuing. The department of our lord
high marshall of the palace will make the further dispositions to that
effect. Cassel, November 12, 1857. _Friedrich Wilhelm._”

Painfully affected as _Spohr_ was upon the receipt of this, he with
his usual good sense soon overcame the shock of the first impression
and contemplated the matter on its brighter side; in which sense he
then gave expression to his sentiments in his letters to distant
friends, and among others, in replying shortly afterwards to the
director of music _Bott_ respecting other affairs, he wrote as follows;
“You do not appear to have yet learned that the Elector, without my
solicitation, has placed me in retirement, and although the terms
of my engagement specified that my salary should be paid so long as
I lived, he has pensioned me off on 1500 Thalers per annum. It has
nevertheless appeared in all the newspapers, together with the account
of the festive form in which I directed for the last time the opera of
Jessonda at the theatre. At first it gave me very great pain, for I
felt still perfectly competent to conduct the few operas which latterly
fell to my share. But I soon learned to estimate my present freedom at
its real value, and now feel very glad that whenever I choose I can get
away by rail whithersoever my fancy takes me! I have submitted also to
the deduction from my salary, having been informed that I should not be
able to compel the payment of the full salary without a new law-suit,
and because it was repulsive to my feelings to take the whole amount
without performing any service for it, and I can live very well with
three-fourths of it by means of my savings!”

Thus terminated _Spohr’s_ personal co-operation at opera and concert.
But that he still cherished as warm an interest in the latter his
letters to distant friends attest, and in this spirit he wrote on
December 22nd. to Mr. _Lüder_: “Since we were at your house, we have
had here the second subscription concert! It was the first concert
that took place in Cassel without my co-operation, and at which I
was present from beginning to end as an auditor. It consisted of
carefully rehearsed music: the two finales from “Zemire and Azor” and
“Euryanthe;” of instrumental music _Mozart’s C major_ symphony with the
fugue (called Jupiter); of concert things _Beethoven’s_ violin concerto
with _Joachim’s_ cadences, and a concert piece by _Moscheles_ for two
pianofortes, called _Hommage à Händel_, very correctly and effectively
played by Messrs. _Reiss_ and _Tivendell_. The concert opened with the
overture to “Rosamunda” by _Schubert_, one of his youthful works, but
which is very pleasing, and was quite new to me. _Reiss_ has again
achieved great praise both by his arrangement and by his careful
rehearsal and study of the music.” In the same letter he farther says:
“We have also had again two quartet parties, and I am happy to say,
that I am still all right at the violin, only I must always prepare
myself a few days before, which was not necessary some years ago![43]”

[43] These quartet evenings in the society of a few of the families of
his most intimate friends, were always a source of great pleasure to
_Spohr_. Every year, on the approach of winter, he took early steps for
their re-arrangement, and generally opened the series in his own house.
Painful as it was to him whenever the death of one of the members
of the circle caused a vacancy therein, the loss of his two oldest
and most faithful friends, chief director _von Schmerfeld_ and Lord
marshall _von der Malsburg_, who had died in the two previous years,
was long and deeply deplored by him.

The at this time still powerful impulse to compose, on the one hand,
and the dread of being no longer capable of producing anything good
and new on the other, gave rise to many painful struggles in the mind
of _Spohr_,--till one morning he entered his wife’s apartment, and
with a cheerful countenance announced to her that he had found the
right way to get out of the difficulty. He had resolved upon writing
a requiem, and had already conceived some fine ideas for it; he had
the greatest hopes that he would be able to complete it, and produce
a worthy conclusion to his numerous works. In happy and inspired mood
he now immediately went to work; and in a few days wrote the first
subjects, but this pleasure, like that which he had shortly before
boasted of in his quartet play, was soon dissipated. On the second day
after Christmas Day, while on his wonted way to the reading room of
the museum in the evening twilight he had the misfortune to fall over
the stone steps at the entrance, and to break his left arm. Beyond
all expectation, nevertheless, the fractured limb was happily healing
fast, and when, after a lapse of several months, with anxious fear of
the result, he once more took up his violin, to draw the first tones
from it, the trial seemed quite satisfactory. But after several days’
practice, followed up with great perseverance, he nevertheless became
convinced to his great sorrow that his arm would never recover its lost
strength and elasticity; upon which, as in this also he could no longer
satisfy himself, deprived of another of the most precious elements of
his existence, with a grieving heart he laid by his beloved violin!

Meanwhile, notwithstanding, many wished-for opportunities presented
themselves elsewhere to _Spohr_, to keep alive his interest in musical
enjoyments and to cheer him with the performance of his greater
works. Scarcely was he recovered from the fracture of his arm, than
he accepted an invitation to Magdeburg, to hear the performance of
his oratorio, “Des Heilands letzte Stunden,” which was to take place
there on Good Friday. With this performance he expressed himself
highly pleased, in a letter to Mr. _Lüders_: “Orchestra, choruses,
and solo-singers were alike excellently practised in their respective
parts, and the effect, in the church of St. Ulrich, which is so
favorably constructed for sound, was indeed heavenly. The solo-voices,
for the most part belonging to the _Seebach_ choral society, were
particularly fine, harmonious and powerful dilettante singers, and
led by their director _Mühling_ they were so penetrated with the true
spirit of the composition, that I was quite taken by surprise, and
delighted!

The accompaniment also of the solo instruments in the grand air of Mary
in the second part was very fine; for _Grimm_ the harpist had been sent
for from Berlin, and the other solo instruments--violin, violincello
and horn--were played by members of the present orchestra of the
Magdeburg theatre, who are, as luck would have it, virtuosi.”

In a similar letter of the 6th. April to _Hauptmann_, in speaking of
his further contemplated plans of journey, he says: “Whether all these
excursions will be carried into effect, is not yet decided; but for
the rest of my life my artistic enjoyments are limited to them; for I
am now perfectly convinced, that I cannot accomplish any great work
more. I regret to say, that my last attempt of the kind failed, and
my requiem remains a fragment; nevertheless, as the subject as far as
the _Lacrimosa dies illa_, at which I stuck fast, pleases me well, and
seems to have much that is new and ingenious in it, I shall not destroy
it, as I should like to take it up again, and will make another attempt
to complete it.”

This attempt, to which with much perseverance he devoted half a day,
proved however a failure, and brought him finally to the avowed painful
determination to relinquish composition entirely; as he did not feel
capable of putting his musical ideas into a distinct shape. At the
conclusion of the letter adverted to, he says further: “I thank you
heartily for your kind wishes upon my birth-day! Notwithstanding my
present low spirits on account of my artistic impotency, I nevertheless
passed it agreeably enough. That may have arisen from my happily
performed journey.” Scarcely three weeks afterwards, _Spohr_, again
full of pleasurable anticipation, set out anew, and this time to
Bremen, where the director of music _Engel_ purposed to open his
recently established choral society with the public performance of
_Spohr’s_ oratorio, “The Fall of Babylon,” a great undertaking, but so
worthily executed that _Spohr_ himself was greatly surprised and deeply
moved.

For the beginning of July _Spohr_ had been invited to Prague, where the
half-centennial anniversary of the Conservatory of that city was to be
celebrated by three grand musical performances--among which was his
opera “Jessonda.” The celebration of divine service in the cathedral
on the first morning was followed in the evening by a grand concert
in the theatre. It began with a new Symphony by _Kittl_, the director
of the conservatory, which, like the other _Pièces d’Ensemble_, was
performed by the pupils of the institution; while the solo-pieces were
executed by foreign resident musicians who had received their education
there; among these, the celebrated violinists _Dreyschock_ and _Laub_.
“On the second evening,” in the words of the “Tagesboten aus Böhmen,”
“not only in honour of the great musician present, but in order to give
every true lover of art a right festive evening, the ‘Jessonda’ of _Dr.
Louis Spohr_ was selected, and Prague had this time the satisfaction of
seeing the inspired and still vigorous veteran conduct the performance
of his work himself.... As _Spohr_ took his place at the conductor’s
desk, which was hung with wreaths of laurel and ornamented with a
crown of the same, he was received by the densely crowded house, which
comprised all the leading artists and lovers of music of Prague,
with long and enthusiastic applause. At every moment of interest, of
which the fascinating “Jessonda,” (the not yet surpassed model of
German lyrical opera) is one uninterrupted beautiful chain, the most
gratifying acclamations were first directed to the master, and then
to the singers. After the second act, the venerable poet of sweet
sounds was vehemently called forward upon the stage, as also after
the last act, when another crown of laurel was thrown to him.... The
conducting of the honoured master _Spohr_ is still marked by unimpaired
vigour, and attention to every detail; his stroke of the baton has
its usual characteristic stamp” &c. The _concert spirituel_, which
had been arranged for the third evening, as the finale to the musical
part of the festival, comprised as chief subject, the ninth Symphony
of _Beethoven_; but at the grand dinner given on the following day,
a series of select musical pieces was performed, and the opportunity
seized, both by loud calls for the repetition of the overture to
“Jessonda,” and every possible mode of demonstration, to honour
_Spohr_, the Nestor of the numerously congregated musicians, as the
king of the feast. Not less however than by all these demonstrations
was he gratified by the kind anticipation of his wishes with the
invitation to visit the country-house in the neighbourhood of Prague
which had been hallowed by _Mozart’s_ lengthened residence; to which
the present proprietor Herr _Popelka_ himself accompanied him, to shew
him the room, which _Spohr_ also looked upon as sacred ground, where
_Mozart_ had composed his “Don Juan.”

_Spohr_ was less fortunate upon his return journey in realising a
long-cherished and ardent wish. He had for several years vainly
endeavoured to hear upon a foreign stage _Mozart’s_ opera “Idomeneo,”
which he had never been able to give a performance of in Cassel, and
which was known to him only in the pianoforte selection. With this
object also, already in the beginning of the summer, apart from and
independent of his subsequently promised visit to Prague, he had
projected a journey to Dresden, for the reason, as he then expressed in
a letter to his friend _Lüder_--“that with the constantly increasing
dearth in the repertory of modern operas, an as yet unheard opera of
_Mozart_ was too important an event, and for him an artistic necessity
too great, that he should not joyfully undertake even a much longer
journey to hear it.” Long previously he had written on the subject to
his friend the director of music _Reissiger_, and at length thought to
see his hope realized in Dresden, either before or after the Prague
musical festival. Unfortunately, however, owing to the absence of
the chief singers of the opera, it could not be carried out, and so,
consoling himself meanwhile till the autumn, he took the road to
Alexandersbad, where during a pleasant sojourn of a week, he reposed
from the exertion of the previous journey in the enjoyment of the quiet
relaxation he so much desired.

Greatly gratified, and visibly refreshed as _Spohr_ again returned
from this pleasant excursion to Alexandersbad, yet from that period he
exhibited a constantly increasing low-spirited and thoughtful mood,
which was so opposite to his former manner. To his wife, who vainly
tried every means to cheer him, he would then reply after a protracted
and earnest silence, that he was weary of life, as he could no longer
be doing; that he had enjoyed to exhaustion all that mortal life
could given, and lived to see a more widely spread recognition and
love for his music than he even could have hoped for,--that now he
ardently wished for death, before the infirmities of old age completely
prostrated him. Nevertheless he always felt cheerfully moved again
by invitations to new journeys, and musical enjoyments, of which
several presented themselves in the autumn. In September namely, the
journey to Wiesbaden to the musical festival of the Middle-Rhine,
and in October to Leipsic, to the performance of his own and other
works which particularly interested him, at the Gewandhaus concert,
at the conservatory and at the church,--on which occasions he at both
places followed the musical performances with persevering interest and
pleasure, and received with lively satisfaction the various ovations
of which he was the object. Although upon this journey to Leipsic,
and lastly also to Dresden, he found no opportunity to realise his
_most ardent expectation_ to hear the “Idomeneo,” he nevertheless was
somewhat compensated for the disappointment by the kindness of the
Frankfort theatrical Intendant, who on his previously expressed wish,
announced _Cherubini’s_ opera of “Medea” for the evening of his arrival
there, on his way through to Wiesbaden, and thus afforded him the high
enjoyment of hearing that classically beautiful music.

As with the decrease in the length of the days and with the gloom of
winter, the sleeplessness and nervous excitement which had affected
him so prejudicially at Leipsic also, increased during the long
nights, and from that time slowly but obviously augmented; leaving as
their result a still greater debility and uneasiness during the day;
his cheerfulness abandoned him entirely.--Shortly after his visit to
Leipsic, where the orchestral pieces under the excellent direction of
_Rietz_ gave him especial pleasure, he wrote among other things to
_Hauptmann_.... “I cannot express to you how this time all the music
I heard in Leipsic pleased me.... From the devotional sentiment which
your motette raised in me on Sunday, I envy you not a little the
energy with which you still continue to work, while with me it is all
over with composing and with violin play! Yesterday I received from
_Zellner_, the musical critic at Vienna, the intelligence that one of
my oratorios is to be performed there, and he invited me on the part
of the originators of the design, to come and direct it myself. For
several years the Austrian society had contemplated giving my ‘Fall of
Babylon’ as a musical festival in the Imperial Riding School; but then,
even with the aid of _Metternich_, I could not get permission to go
there. Now, when I could get away, as I am an invalid, and the journey
too far and fatiguing, I am obliged to renounce it. I shall therefore
decline the invitation and content myself with shorter journeys in
the fine season of the year. But on such occasions, struggles with my
inclinations and low spirits always follow! and so one is induced to
envy the lot of several who were personally known to me, who of late
died suddenly....” Impressed with similar painful thoughts and not
without many inward struggles, _Spohr_ wrote the letter to decline
the invitation that he received at that time to Königsberg, to the
centenary _Händel_ Festival, where he had been chosen to direct the
magnificent “Messiah” and one of his own works; and where it was
intended to pay to him, as sole worthy representative of the great
_Händel_, all the homage and honours which could not be rendered to
_Händel_ personally, in all the overflowing fulness of their warmth.[44]

[44] To the many marks of honour which _Spohr_ still received in the
latter years of his life must be added also his nomination to the
honorary membership of the “Musical Society,” which had just previously
been instituted in London. Upon the occasion of his presentation with
this diploma, an enumeration of the various diplomas which he had
already been presented with gave an amount of _Thirty-eight_, among
which was one from New York, from Buenos-Ayres, St. Petersburg, and
Stockholm, with two from Rome and two from Holland.

As _Spohr_ for many years had been considered by the whole musical
world as the highest authority in everything that pertained to his art,
a day seldom passed without bringing applications or requests of some
kind, frequently from the most distant localities, which his ever-ready
disposition to oblige never permitted him to leave unnoticed, but to
which, now although with a heavy heart, he was more and more compelled
to waive replying. One application nevertheless may here be mentioned,
which, coming at a particularly favourable moment, rekindled his
zest to make a last essay at composition, and which in reality also
was his last! For many years he had been repeatedly solicited in the
most irresistible words by Mr. _Chr. Schad_, the publisher of the
Almanack of the German Muses, to write a few little songs for it, and
_Spohr_ had each time the satisfaction to learn that those willingly
bestowed little contributions were received with a more than usual
approbation. In the autumn of 1857, when with considerable timidity he
had endeavoured to satisfy Mr _Schad’s_ urgent wish for a composition
for the words of the old ballad of _Walter von der Vogelweide_, “the
silent nightingale,” he received a very poetical letter of thanks
expressing the writers “admiration of the musical sentiment and depth
of feeling with which the beautiful ballad had been rendered by the
composer,” and that “it is a great satisfaction for a German heart
that two masters of his nation, although separated by an interval of
six hundred years, should have exhibited the rich treasures of their
inmost feelings, in so noble, so simple and so harmonious a form of
words and tone,” &c. Now at length, in October 1858, six months after
having laid aside his incompleted requiem as his last composition,
he received another letter, beginning with the words: “Your silent
nightingale which built her harmonious nest in the thick verdure of
last year’s Almanack of the Muses, has met with the loudest approbation
of the German nation for the very eloquence of that silence. And who
better than the loved great master _Spohr_ would know how to utter
sounds more replete with the soul’s harmony,--who know how to move
more deeply and purely a German heart! No wonder is it that I again
knock at your door to-day. I come in the name of, and at the request
of, more than eighty of the best hearts and heads in Germany, who have
chosen me as their standard-bearer for a noble patriotic object.... I
lay before you three of the most beautiful of _Göthe’s_ songs for your
unrestricted choice, and resign myself to the pleasing hope of seeing
one or the other enveloped in a melodious garb by your master-hand.”
And, indeed, already on the following morning his wife heard with
joyful emotion the sound of the long-silent keys of the pianoforte, in
his room, and his still pleasing voice as he sang in accompaniment. A
few hours afterwards he came also with a look of pleasure to fetch her,
to sing to her forthwith the new music he had composed to _Goethe’s_
“Herz, mein Herz, was soll das geben,” having already completed it as
regarded the chief thing; though the rhythm and conclusion not being
yet to his fancy, would require a longer time to finish. When however,
his wife, greatly pleased with the lively, pretty melody, could not
refrain from making the observation that it had a very striking
resemblance to _Beethoven’s_ composition to the same words, he assured
her that he had no knowledge of it, or at least no recollection of it
at all, but expressed the wish to have it procured, in order to satisfy
himself of the resemblance.--With his own song he was now tolerably
satisfied, and said, with truth also, that it would have a very good
effect, if those who sung it did not _spoil it by too slow a Tempo_,
as was so frequently the case with his compositions, a remark which is
in so far characteristic, as _Spohr_, so often as he heard his works
performed abroad, or not under his own immediate direction, always felt
annoyed by the time being taken frequently _too slow_, but scarcely
ever complained of one taken _too fast_. When at length the new song
was studied under his superintendance by his niece _Emma Spohr_,
who, gifted with a fine voice, always sung songs of the kind in the
family-circle, he sang to her himself with the most lively emotion, and
with almost breathless rapidity, the three closely following strophes,
without interlude, to encourage her to a similar execution. But a few
weeks afterwards, when he again caught sight of the manuscript, he
said, with a sorrowful expression of face, that the song was worthless,
and regretted that he had sent it for publication in the Almanack of
the Muses!

As evidence of his restless impulse to be usefully active, one instance
may here be adduced:

When, after breaking his arm, he was compelled to give up violin
playing himself, he thought also that he could no longer give
satisfaction as a _Teacher_ of his instrument; he had dismissed his
last violin pupils, young persons without pecuniary means whom he
instructed from a humane feeling and zeal for the art.--But now, in
December 1858, he again resumed his labours as a beneficent instructor,
and expressed himself to _Hauptmann_ upon the subject in the following
words: “In order still to be somewhat actively engaged in the cause
of art, I have commenced giving pianoforte lessons gratis to a young
lady who wishes to qualify herself for a teacher of that instrument.
But when it is requisite to play anything to my pupil, I am of course
obliged to call my wife or sister-in-law to my assistance.”

In this manner, the this time especially dreaded winter,--his last--had
come! On New Year’s morning 1859, after a sleepless and restless night
passed in a state of painful nervous excitement, he received in earnest
silence the wishes of the season from his family and friends,--but
still looked forward with hope to a “fine spring and summer,” which
he contemplated passing happily once more, partly at home among his
favorite flowers, and partly in little journeys. For such journeys,
which his friends always designated as “little triumphal excursions,”
the most alluring invitations had again long been received from all
sides, but of these of course he could only accept those which were
to places most easily accessible. When upon such occasions with an
effusion of grateful satisfaction he gave utterance to his feelings
in the words: “It often seems to me as though all the world thought
only of conferring upon me a very feast of pleasure before I die,”
it was unfortunately always followed by the sad addition: “but no
one knows how miserable I feel, and no one can relieve me of my
sufferings.”--With almost morbid impatience he now looked forward
to the next spring, when he had proposed to himself, at the special
request of _John J. Bott_, who was now appointed director of music
at the court orchestra of Meiningen, to proceed thither, to direct
the concert which was then to be given for the benefit of the widow’s
relief fund. The few hours occupied by the journey on the newly-opened
Werra railway were easy and comfortable to him, and upon his reception
at the terminus of Meiningen _Spohr_ was particularly gratified at
meeting once more both his favorite pupils _Grund_ and _Bott_, who
greeted their honoured master with expressions of the heartiest
welcome, and who the next day were unwearied in showing their grateful
attachment to him in every possible manner. Immediately on the first
evening, as a further festive welcome, a grand serenade by torch-light
was given to him, in which under _Bott’s_ conducting (in the _Spohr_
style), male choral and four-part-songs interchanged alternately with
the music of the full orchestra; and at the close, at the moment when
the cheers of the assembled crowds were loudest, the whole living mass
was suddenly illumined by the coloured fires of a brilliant sun, which
disclosed also to view, as though by magic, the fine parks opposite
the house. At the rehearsal for the concert on the following evening,
_Spohr_ found all the musical pieces so carefully studied and in
accordance with all his intentions, that he could look forward with
pleasing certainty to its performance on the next evening, and the more
so, as the two directors of music, _Grund_ and _Bott_, felt an especial
pleasure in resuming their former places under the direction of their
master, as co-operating violinists in the orchestra, and in thus giving
him the most powerful support.

The “Meininger Tageblatt” makes mention of the concert in the following
terms: “Upon the stage, between branches of palm and laurel, was placed
a collossal bust of _Spohr_. The conductor’s desk had been decorated by
female hands with ingenious devices and garlands of flowers. The house,
filled to overflowing, awaited in breathless suspense the appearance
of the famed old master. ‘He comes!’ ... was whispered through the
spacious house, and a thousand-tongued welcome of joy greeted the
honoured man. In a few minutes afterwards he had lifted the conductor’s
baton--a solemn silence immediately ensued; and in a few moments the
first notes of the symphony “Die Weihe der Töne” resounded. The eyes of
all were directed to the Nestor of the science of music, who brought
to our mind the Olympian Jove--_omnia supercilio moventis_. All the
orchestral assistants felt the importance of the moment, and lent their
most efficient aid. The same calm which everywhere breathes through the
works of this musician was seen also in his conducting. Not the least
fraction of a beat was thrown away--in all and everywhere, were seen
the director of orchestra and the musicians, as a grand impersonated
whole, achieving in every part a fresh triumph. The honoured poet of
sweet sounds directed besides his grand symphony, five other of his
works, and with so steady a hand, that the crowded house was filled
with admiration.” ... This part of the concert in which _Spohr_ wielded
for _the last time_ the conductor’s baton, comprised among the rest,
his concertante in _H minor_, which was executed by director of music
_Bott_ and concert-master _Müller_ in a masterly manner, and gave him
great pleasure. In appropriate choice followed the overture to the
“Mountain Sprite,” with which thirty-four years before he had opened
the festive celebration of the marriage of the ducal pair. As upon that
occasion the exalted couple listened with pleasure to the tones of
the master, and exhibited a warm interest not only by their presence
at the rehearsal and performance, but by the most marked attentions;
and the duke, who many years previously had presented _Spohr_ with the
cross of knighthood of the order of the house of Saxe-Ernest, changed
it upon this occasion for the grand cross of the order.--The last
evening in Meiningen was further celebrated in honour of _Spohr_ by a
grand masonic fête, which afforded him no less gratification; as also
a hearty written testimony of thanks addressed to him by the intendant
of the court orchestra, Mr. _von Liliencron_, from which, as it refers
to _Spohr’s last appearance as conductor_, we may here cite some words,
which will perpetuate the memory of that day: “The house filled to the
very utmost,--the enthusiastic acclamations,--the flowers and wreaths,
testified to you yesterday, how fascinated we all were by your tones,
how deeply moved at the sight of the loved and highly honoured master.
If the recollection of that delightful evening will remain indelibly
impressed upon all who were present, so will the benign purpose of
that concert impress the recollection of your appearance among us;
for in future years, when it shall be read what was presented on the
12th. April 1859 to the widows and orphans by the court orchestra of
Meiningen, it will be said: that was the day on which _Spohr_, the
master, wielded the conductor’s baton in our midst.”

A second journey undertaken shortly after by _Spohr_, was to the
pleasant little princely residence of Detmold, where he was again
welcomed by a grateful pupil, the director of music _Kiel_, and its
art-loving prince, in a similar manner as in Meiningen, with two
successive days of festivities in his honour. The proffered direction
of a grand concert solely embracing his own compositions he had
firmly declined, and as auditor could therefore give himself up more
completely to the enjoyment of his own excellently performed music,
two numbers of which in particular afforded him exceeding pleasure;
the performance namely by his former pupils _Kiel_ and concertmaster
_Bargheer_, who together executed his _A minor_ concertante, and
the symphony “Die Jahreszeiten”--a favorite and prominent point of
excellence with the court orchestra of Detmold--and which he had
especially chosen by a previously communicated request.

Returned once more to Cassel after a week happily passed in the
midst of the enjoyment of art and nature, _Spohr_ unhappily could no
longer conceal from himself, that even these short journeys were now
followed by many painful results, in the shape of a yet more increased
nervous restlessness at night--yet his spirit soon yearned again for
diversity and change of place, and especially towards his favorite
Alexandersbad, where he confidently hoped a longer stay in the fine air
of that locality would again induce an improvement in his health, and
particularly restore his sleep at night. Strengthened in this belief
by the opinion of his ever-sympathising and watchful medical attendant
Dr. Ad. _Harnier_, he set out for Alexandersbad, where he remained
some weeks. His health improved, and he passed better nights. But on
his return he visited Würzburg, and was present at the performance of
his “Letzte Dinge;” and this, and his reception, and the leave-taking,
made such an impression on him, that it went far to neutralize the
improvement in his health that had taken place at Alexandersbad.

His pleasure at hearing good music remained with him to the last, for
which reason he never missed a concert, and even frequently went to the
theatre, where above all things the music so dear to his heart--the
operas of _Mozart_--ever filled him anew with the fresh transports
of a youthful joy.--At home he passed the greater part of the day
in reading, but no longer as formerly in that of political journals
and instructive scientific works, which had excited and absorbed his
interest,--he now delighted rather in entertaining moral works, simple
novels that appealed to the heart, and the like, which for the time
distracted his attention from his suffering condition.--At frequent
intervals he would request his wife to play something to him, and
herein he would shew a preference for the pianoforte music of _Bach_
and _Mendelssohn_, yet without withdrawing his interest from the
productions of more modern composers.

A pleasing diversion in the uniform sameness of his everyday life,
was afforded to him in the first days of October by a visit to the
princess _Anna_, wife of prince _Frederick_, the heir apparent to the
Hessian throne, at the express invitation of that princess, during
a residence of some days at Cassel in the Bellevue palace. Upon his
return he related with feelings of pleasure the amiable anticipatory
attentions of the princess, who, in consideration of _Spohr’s_
greater convenience, had descended with her husband and child, prince
_Wilhelm_, then five years old, to an apartment on the ground-floor,
where he was received, and where after a lengthened pleasing
conversation with the princely pair, she, at the conclusion, besought
him with the most winning kindliness of manner, to write a few lines
by way of souvenir in her album. In satisfaction of this request, on
the 7th. October, he wrote, though indeed with a weak and tremulous
hand, yet with his usual readiness, a particularly requested passage of
the well-known duett in “Jessonda,” in the costly album that had been
forwarded to his house.

On Sunday the 16th. October, a change, at first scarcely observable,
evinced itself in his condition: an expression of calm contentment
such as not had been seen for a long time, settled on his features; in
spite of the preceding restless night, of the obvious continual bodily
sufferings and increasing debility no more complainings were heard to
fall from his lips; yet he was more than usually silent, and though he
replied in a kind tone to every inquiry adressed to him, it was as
short as possible. In the afternoon, on rising from the dinner-table,
he stood for a long time at the open door of the house, musing as he
gazed upon the rich autumnal beauties of his flower-garden,--but upon
the proposition of his wife to take his coffee outside under the bower,
he replied, that he wished to take it that day in his room, and that
she with her sister would play something to him. This of course was
with pleasure immediately complied with. After he had listened to some
symphonies arranged for four hands,--apparently as though half-lost in
a dream, yet as might be inferred from many remarks that fell from him,
with much attention, he requested further by way of conclusion, his
newest quintet (Op. 144, _G-minor_) with the piano-forte arrangement
of which for four hands he had but shortly before become acquainted;
to this also he listened with full interest and obvious satisfaction.
After the last theme he inquired: “How long ago may it be that I
wrote that?” and when his wife, who could not immediately remember
the year, replied it might be perhaps three or four years ago,--he
said with a sigh: “Then _there_ I did still succeed in effecting it!
and now I can no longer do so!” With these words he rose from his
chair, to prepare for his customary evening walk to the reading rooms,
which, despite all his weakness and some admonitions from his wife, he
nevertheless slowly, and supported by her, still persevered in. But
feeling exceedingly anxious at home respecting him, she despatched a
devotedly attached servant to see after him, much earlier than he had
been ordered to bring him back: upon which, in a condition of extreme
debility, he immediately permitted himself to be led home, and shortly
after his frugal supper to be put to bed. After the usual parting
evening kiss, he said to his wife: “he hoped from being so tired he
should at length have a _good night’s rest_,”--and thereupon sank
into a soft slumber from which he did not awake till the next morning
and then with a cheerful mien. He had found the much-desired repose,
he felt no longer any bodily suffering, the serene expression of his
countenance betokened it from that moment to his last breath! To rise
he refused; neither would he take breakfast; but requested his wife to
sit on the bed beside him; took her hand, and kissed it tenderly, with
an affectionate expression in his kindly beaming eyes that spoke to her
more eloquently than could a thousand words. Shortly afterwards his
attentive physician arrived, and immediately perceived that a higher
power had granted to him the long-desired rest. His family was already
prepared for the approaching heart-rending separation. His children and
nephews, near and distant friends, hastened to his couch, all desirous
to look as long as possible on his loved and honoured face, each glad
to snatch one look more from his truthful loving eyes! In this manner
he lay, surrounded by all that were most dear to him in life, in calm
repose; from day to day with decreasing consciousness of existence;
in spirit mayhap, already appertaining to a higher world,--until the
evening of the 22nd. Oct. (1859), when at half-past ten his weary eyes
closed for ever!----

The pious tones which once with a holy inspiration had gushed from
the pure fount of his soul--tones to which he had himself listened in
silent devotion but a few weeks before,--resounded now in mourning
over his grave; and sad and sorrowful, though at the same time sweetly
consolatory, still echo far and wide to the hearts of all:

 “Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord, now and for ever. They
 repose from their labours, and their works follow them!”

  ~Finis.~




Alphabetical list of the most notable persons, adverted to in the two
volumes.

                                        Page

  Beethoven                      I. 184, 199

  Bott, Jean               II. 232, 313, 336

  Boucher                             II. 68

  Catalani                            II. 25

  Cherubini                          II. 133

  Clementi                             I. 39

  Curschmann                    II. 158, 161

  Dingelstedt                        II. 211

  Dussek                           I. 79, 86

  Eck                                  I. 13

  Feska                          I. 193, 225

  Field                                I. 40

  Goethe                         I. 102, 116

  Grabbe                             II. 190

  Grund, Edward                 II. 103, 336

  Hauptmann, Moritz      I. 169 II. 137, 241

  Hesse, Adolph            II. 196, 209, 299

  Hermstedt    I. 123, 140, 156, 159 II. 135

  Hiller, Ferdinand                  II. 324

  Holmes, Alfred and Henry           II. 320

  von Humboldt, Alex.                II. 269

  Immermann                          II. 189

  Joachim                  II. 278, 289, 317

  Kömpel, Augustus                   II. 300

  Körner, Theodor                     I. 177

  Kreutzer              I. 250, II. 108, 119

  Laube, Heinrich                    II. 277

  Liszt, Franz                  II. 239, 271

  Mendelssohn         II. 189, 210, 277, 290

  Methfessel                          II. 59

  Meyerbeer         I. 80, 312, II. 266, 270

  Molique                             I. 212

  Moscheles                     II. 294, 313

  Müller, Brothers                   II. 228

  Napoleon                            I. 117

  Owen, Professor                    II. 304

  Ole Bull                           II. 213

  Paganini                   I. 279, II. 168

  Pott, Augustus                II. 262, 273

  Prutz, Robert                      II. 278

  von Raumer                           II. 2

  Raupach                            II. 184

  Ries, Ferdinand                II. 75, 161

  Ries, Hubert                       II. 269

  Rochlitz               I. 75, II. 159, 186

  Rode                            I. 61, 161

  Romberg, Andreas               I. 135, 210

  Romberg, Bernard                     I. 78

  Schmidt, Aloys                      I. 159

  Schumann, Robert              II. 210, 296

  Schwenke                            I. 135

  Spontini                           II. 156

  Taylor, Prof., Ed.       II. 216, 249, 253

  Tiek, Ludwig                       II. 269

  Wagner, Richard               II. 245, 276

  von Weber, C. Maria            I. 109, 140

  Wichmann, Professor                II. 269

  Wieland                        I. 102, 116

  Winter                              I. 105




       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber's Note


Note 8 on volume 1 p. 114 refers to a fac-simile appended to the
volume; this was not included in the printed book.

The book contains many instances of inconsistent, archaic or doubtful
spelling, hyphenation and punctuation. These have been left as printed,
except as follows:

Volume 1

p. vi "1846" changed to "1846."

p. 9 "thoughtless" changed to "thoughtless."

p. 11 "tome" changed to "to me"

p. 14 "nothwithstanding" changed to "notwithstanding"

p. 18 "rythm" changed to "rhythm"

p. 19 "by not" changed to "by no"

p. 21 "priviledges" changed to "privileges"

p. 33 "sucessful" changed to "successful"

p. 34 "fond off" changed to "fond of"

p. 34 "_Eck_" changed to "_Eck’s_"

p. 34 "heard" changed to "heart"

p. 36 "und" changed to "and"

p. 37 "immediately.”" changed to "immediately."

p. 38 "demand.”" changed to "demand."

p. 40 "to my" changed to "to me"

p. 42 "owerwhelmed" changed to "overwhelmed"

p. 42 "23^{th}" changed to "23^{rd}"

p. 43 "who was" changed to "how was"

p. 43 "musisal" changed to "musical"

p. 43 "time.”" changed to "time."

p. 45 "its found" changed to "it is found"

p. 46 "intruments" changed to "instruments"

p. 47 "twelvth" changed to "twelfth"

p. 48 "idea of." The" changed to "idea of. "The"

p. 52 "gate.”" changed to "gate."

p. 54 "city." "Near" changed to "city. Near"

p. 56 "on prepare" changed to "or prepare"

p. 61 "“I alighted" changed to "I alighted"

p. 61 "journey." changed to "journey.”"

p. 68 "escasped" changed to "escaped"

p. 76 "ingenousness" changed to "ingenuousness"

p. 78 "now appreciate" changed to "nor appreciate"

p. 80 "aminadverted" changed to "animadverted"

p. 84 "anounced" changed to "announced"

p. 86 "exercice" changed to "exercise"

p. 90 "_Preissling_" changed to "_Preissing_"

p. 93 "exulpation" changed to "exculpation"

p. 99 "distateful" changed to "distasteful"

p. 101 "Heriditary" changed to "Hereditary"

p. 107 "particulary" changed to "particularly"

p. 110 "impelled so" changed to "impelled to"

p. 111 "pricipal" changed to "principal"

p. 115 "(the Owlet-Queen)" changed to "(the Owlet-Queen),"

p. 117 "mort" changed to "more"

p. 127 "would he" changed to "would be"

p. 131 "childern" changed to "children"

p. 141 "„This" changed to "“This"

p. 145 "superority" changed to "superiority"

p. 146 "inwhich" changed to "in which"

p. 146 "board. "The" changed to "board. The"

p. 149 "Op, 114" changed to "Op. 114"

p. 157 "tentency" changed to "tendency"

p. 160 "other.”" changed to "other."

p. 164 "It is difficult”" changed to "“It is difficult”"

p. 164 "of te" changed to "of the"

p. 165 "introdued" changed to "introduced"

p. 168 "rupturous" changed to "rapturous"

p. 168 "suceeded" changed to "succeeded"

p. 168 "distinghuish" changed to "distinguish"

p. 169 "wat not" changed to "was not"

p. 172 "not be" changed to "not to be"

p. 175 "to to whom" changed to "to whom"

p. 181 "servant." changed to "servant.”"

p. 189 "scarely" changed to "scarcely"

p. 201 "_Pixis_." changed to "_Pixis_?”"

p. 207 "nolodge" changed to "no lodge"

p. 208 "“ In Hanover" changed to " “In Hanover"

p. 209 "oppointed" changed to "appointed"

p. 213 "execuiton" changed to "execution"

p. 216 "arduousex ertion" changed to "arduous exertion"

p. 222 "slighest" changed to "slightest"

p. 223 "“Zauberflöte" changed to "“Zauberflöte”"

p. 225 "seperates" changed to "separates"

p. 227 "slighest" changed to "slightest"

p. 229 "on Overture" changed to "an Overture"

p. 229 "an account" changed to "on account"

p. 230 (note) "than" changed to "then"

p. 233 "possesion" changed to "possession"

p. 236 "pratical" changed to "practical"

p. 239 "along" changed to "a long"

p. 242 "precipituously" changed to "precipitously"

p. 243 "deligthful" changed to "delightful"

p. 244 "the the singer" changed to "the singer"

p. 249 "reheasal" changed to "rehearsal"

p. 249 "accomodation" changed to "accommodation"

p. 251 "continous" changed to "continuous"

p. 251 "immediatly" changed to "immediately"

p. 252 "disstance" changed to "distance"

p. 254 "one- horse" changed to "one-horse"

p. 256 "oramented" changed to "ornamented"

p. 263 "age But" changed to "age. But"

p. 264 "hears" changed to "hear"

p. 266 "trough" changed to "through"

p. 266 "here appearance" changed to "her appearance"

p. 271 "moltey" changed to "motley"

p. 279 "the sepaintings" changed to "these paintings"

p. 282 "artist." changed to "artist.”"

p. 285 "arstists" changed to "artists"

p. 315 "indifference and and" changed to "indifference and"

p. 319 "farces" changed to "forces"

p. 319 "pur" changed to "our"

p. 319 "wetnessed" changed to "witnessed"

p. 320 "agitity" changed to "agility"

p. 320 "handscapes" changed to "landscapes"

p. 320 "asscended" changed to "ascended"

p. 324 "und" changed to "and"

p. 325 "unformity" changed to "uniformity"

p. 327 "who where" changed to "who were"

Volume 2

p. 4 "were" changed to "where"

p. 8 "inmortal" changed to "immortal"

p. 9 "a a hermitage" changed to "a hermitage"

p. 13 "through" changed to "though"

p. 14 "penally" changed to "penalty"

p. 15 "defiency" changed to "deficiency"

p. 18 "very" changed to "every"

p. 18 "At it is" changed to "As it is"

p. 18 "smooth-smoken" changed to "smooth-spoken"

p. 21 "others town" changed to "other towns"

p. 21 "excellents" changed to "excellent"

p. 23 "During" changed to "“During"

p. 26 "midle" changed to "middle"

p. 28 "breath" changed to "breathe"

p. 30 "byancient" changed to "by ancient"

p. 33 "neighourhood" changed to "neighbourhood"

p. 35 "then in" changed to "them in"

p. 38 "he so-called" changed to "the so-called"

p. 39 "strubs" changed to "shrubs"

p. 46 "composors" changed to "composers"

p. 47 "apointment" changed to "appointment"

p. 51 "journey" changed to "journey."

p. 54 "the the saloon" changed to "the saloon"

p. 54 "asme" changed to "same"

p. 62 "silly mistake!”" changed to "silly mistake!"

p. 63 "possiblity" changed to "possibility"

p. 64 "suceeded" changed to "succeeded"

p. 67 "soi" changed to "soli"

p. 69 "irrevalent" changed to "irrelevant"

p. 73 "right hand-pier" changed to "right-hand pier"

p. 74 "in in open" changed to "in open"

p. 75 "waistcoast" changed to "waistcoat"

p. 76 "councilwas" changed to "council was"

p. 79 "anguish and and" changed to "anguish and"

p. 81 "could" changed to "she could"

p. 88 "renumeration" changed to "remuneration"

p. 89 "frendly" changed to "friendly"

p. 92 "miles of" changed to "miles off"

p. 96 "could fail" changed to "could not fail"

p. 100 "&c." changed to "&c.”"

p. 106 "exculpate himself" changed to "exculpate myself"

p. 108 "nothwithstanding" changed to "notwithstanding"

p. 109 "proproduced" changed to "produced"

p. 111 "verything" changed to "everything"

p. 129 "mechancali" changed to "mechanical"

p. 133 "_Bethoven_" changed to "_Beethoven_"

p. 134 "journy" changed to "journey"

p. 136 "deel" changed to "deal"

p. 137 "or my" changed to "on my"

p. 143 "aknowledged" changed to "acknowledged"

p. 145 "the the court-orchestra" changed to "the court-orchestra"

p. 147 "draw" changed to "drawn"

p. 151 (note) "carying" changed to "carrying"

p. 153 "written" changed to "written by"

p. 153 "charactesised" changed to "characterised"

p. 154 "kettle-druns" changed to "kettle-drums"

p. 155 "nevetherless" changed to "nevertheless"

p. 155 "torch-ight-dance" changed to "torch-light-dance"

p. 157 "“Der Berg-Geist, "which" changed to "“Der Berg-Geist," which"

p. 157 "23th" changed to "23rd"

p. 159 "ecclestiastic" changed to "ecclesiastic"

p. 160 "cross-which" changed to "cross--which"

p. 160 "others." changed to "others.”"

p. 164 "as all" changed to "at all"

p. 167 "be introduced" changed to "he introduced"

p. 169 "informing then" changed to "informing them"

p. 169 "disturbancees" changed to "disturbances"

p. 171 "peasanty" changed to "peasantry"

p. 171 "the the song" changed to "the song"

p. 171 "Messiah.”" changed to "Messiah."

p. 176 (note) "A fit" changed to "“A fit"

p. 178 "Although" changed to "“Although"

p. 181 "artifical" changed to "artificial"

p. 185 "Op 91" changed to "Op. 91"

p. 185 "unsually" changed to "unusually"

p. 189 "were I" changed to "where I"

p. 190 "sister-in law" changed to "sister-in-law"

p. 190 "bathing-etablishment" changed to "bathing-establishment"

p. 194 "3nd" changed to "3rd"

p. 201 "endeavours so" changed to "endeavours to"

p. 202 "an Whittuesday" changed to "on Whittuesday"

p. 202 (note) "restess" changed to "restless"

p. 202 (note) "It is" changed to "“It is"

p. 203 "dicision" changed to "decision"

p. 205 "suprise" changed to "surprise"

p. 209 "23nd" changed to "23rd"

p. 212 "...," changed to "...."

p. 213 "sacrifies" changed to "sacrifices"

p. 217 "Of _such_" changed to "“Of _such_"

p. 218 (note) "expenses." changed to "expenses.”"

p. 222 "moved And" changed to "moved. And"

p. 222 "pevailed" changed to "prevailed"

p. 228 "fellows" changed to "follows"

p. 228 "charmed us.”" changed to "charmed us."

p. 230 "loves" changed to "love’s"

p. 233 "manner." changed to "manner.”"

p. 235 "festival.”" changed to "festival."

p. 237 "uniniated" changed to "uninitiated"

p. 241 "_Spohr’s_," changed to "_Spohr’s_"

p. 249 "genins" changed to "genius"

p. 249 "frienads" changed to "friends"

p. 256 "treatment." changed to "treatment.”"

p. 259 "arival" changed to "arrival"

p. 262 "such a" changed to "such as"

p. 265 "prejudical" changed to "prejudicial"

p. 270 "_Meyerber_" changed to "_Meyerbeer_"

p. 273 "concert to" changed to "concerto"

p. 276 "contemptated" changed to "contemplated"

p. 280 "alhough" changed to "although"

p. 282 "successsion" changed to "succession"

p. 282 "nonimating" changed to "nominating"

p. 287 "by foce" changed to "by force"

p. 287 "someting" changed to "something"

p. 295 "medicial" changed to "medical"

p. 298 "very kind" changed to "every kind"

p. 301 "classes" changed to "glasses"

p. 311 "favourable" changed to "favourably"

p. 317 "Terrestial" changed to "Terrestrial"

p. 331 "he carried" changed to "be carried"

p. 333 "warmth.”" changed to "warmth."

p. 339 "particulary" changed to "particularly"

p. 339 "allendant" changed to "attendant"
Autobiography of Louis Spohr - Part 2
