commissioned to arrange the concert at a festival with which the
English living in Hamburgh were about to celebrate the 4^{th} of
June, in honour of their king, engaged Herr _Eck_ to perform a violin
concerto. It was not until the rehearsal which took place on the
evening of June 3, at nine o’clock, that Herr _Eck_ discovered that
the concert was to be given in the open air, which, until then, had
never been mentioned. A tent had been erected, in which the orchestra,
about one hundred strong, was disposed on a terrace-like platform. Herr
_Dussek_ first tried a _Cantata_, composed by him for the occasion,
and which, had an uncommon effect upon me; for not only was it well
written and thoroughly well studied, but from the accompainment of a
large organ which had been erected in the back ground of the orchestra
and “from its being executed in the silence of night, it partook of so
solemn a character that I was quite charmed by it.”
After the Cantata, Herr _Eck_ was to try his Concerto. But, he fearing
that the damp night air would have an unfavourable effect upon his
strings, and that his violin, after so powerful a volume of vocal
sound, and hemmed in by the linen walls, would tell badly, had resolved
not to play at all. He explained this; and at the same time reproached
Herr _Dussek_ warmly for not having told him at once, that the concert
was to take place in the open air. Hereupon a sharp dispute followed,
the consequence of which was that _Eck_ left the place immediately with
me, and we took no part in the festival itself.
We now went to Ludwigslust, where _Eck_ wished to play at Court. But
his offer was declined; and he came also to Strelitz at an unfortunate
time, for the Court was absent. Nevertheless, as it was soon expected
to return, and the pleasant little town with its charming park, bounded
by the lake, invited us to make a longer stay; and, as _Eck_ foresaw
that in the height of summer it would be impossible to do much in
Stettin, Dantzic and Konigsberg, he made up his mind to await the
return of the Court. We looked out therefore for private lodgings, and
made ourselves at home there for some time.
This was the most favourable period for my studies, during the whole
journey. _Eck_, who was now at leisure, devoted himself with great
zeal to the instruction of his pupil, and initiated me in all the
secrets of his art. I, for my part, urged on by youthful ambition,
was indefatigable. I rose very early and practised until exhaustion
obliged me to cease. But, after a short rest I began again, and in this
way, sometimes brought it to ten hour’s practising a day, including
the time that _Eck_ devoted to me. In a letter from Brunswick, I had
been informed that those who did not wish me well had loudly expressed
themselves, that I should distinguish myself as little as all the other
youths whom the duke had hitherto assisted in their studies. In order
to controvert this opinion, I was determined to do my utmost, and even
when my zeal sometimes flagged, the thought of my first appearance in
Brunswick upon my return, animated me directly to fresh exertion.
In this manner I succeeded after a short time in acquiring such
dexterity and firmness in the management of my instrument, that none
of the then known Concerto-music was too difficult for me. In these
exertions I was supported by sound health, and a Herculean frame.
Between whiles, I composed, painted, wrote and read; and in the
later hours of the afternoons we used to make excursions into the
neighbourhood. A favourite amusement of the travellers was to row
across the lake, and to take supper at a farm house, situated on the
opposite shore. As I was already at that time an accomplished swimmer,
I often undressed during these trips, and swam a while alongside the
boat. The relation in which I stood to _Eck_, which was more that of
one comrade to another than of pupil to teacher, admitted of such
privileges.
At this time, I finished a violin concerto I had begun in Hamburgh,
and which afterwards appeared as Op. 1 at _Breitkopf & Härtel’s_ in
Leipsic; and wrote the three violin duets Op. 3 published at _Kühnel’s_
in the same town. While practising these duets with _Eck_, I became
first aware that my teacher, like many violinists of the French school,
was no thoroughly finished artist; for however excellently he executed
his concertos, and some other compositions studied with his brother,
yet he knew but little how to enter into the spirit of the works of
others. A change of characters would have been very possible while
playing these duets, for the scholar could have taught the master how
they ought to have been executed. I became also aware from an attempt
at composition made by _Eck_, that it was impossible for him to have
composed the violin concertos and quartetts he had given out as his
own productions. At a later period, also, the concertos appeared with
the name of the elder _Eck_ affixed to them, and the quartetts with
that of _Danzi_, the leader of the Orchestra at Stutgard. Thus the four
weeks, during which we waited for the arrival of the Court, passed in
a very uniform way, but not fruitlessly for me, when Herr _Eck_ fell
seriously ill, and being obliged to keep his room for the first four
weeks of his indisposition, I took my evening walks alone. During these
walks another love affair sprang up, which is related in the diary with
great earnestness and minuteness. On the eighth of July, is written:
“This afternoon, impelled by ennui, I entered a circulating library,
where I selected _Lafontaine’s_ well known novel “_Quinctius Heymerom
von Flaming_.” I took it with me, and, leaving the town, looked for a
sequestered and shady place on the shore of the lake, where I lay down
and began to read. I became deeply engrossed in the story; grieved with
_Lissow_ about his _Jacobine_, and compared her to a lady then living,
and an acquaintance of mine. Suddenly I heard footsteps near me, I
looked up, and two girls stood before me; one with blue eyes, fair
curls, and beautiful as an angel, the other with black hair and eyes,
less beautiful indeed than her companion, but still not plain. I sprang
up, bowed respectfully and gazed after them for a long time. Myrrha,
Herr _Eck’s_ dog which I had taken with me, followed them, fawning upon
the fair haired one incessantly, so that it did not heed my calling. I
therefore followed to bring back the dog, and if possible to make the
acquaintance of the girls. The fair one came to meet me, begging pardon
for having kept back the dog, and asked me to promise that I would not
punish it for its disobedience. With her sweet silvery voice she might
have exacted yet greater promises from me; I therefore gave the desired
one with pleasure. The conversation was now commenced; I continued it,
and accompanied the girls on their walk. I found that the fair one was
very well educated and polite. The dark one spoke too little to allow
of judging of her education. We came at length to a meadow separated
from our path by a broad ditch, which although shallow, was yet too wet
for ladies to cross. As they expressed a desire to walk in the meadow,
I offered to carry them over. At first they would not consent, but
at last they allowed themselves to be persuaded. I took the fair one
first, and an incomprehensible pleasure seized me when thus carrying
the beautiful girl in my arms. When I had reached the most dangerous
part of the ditch with her, one of her fair curls fell upon my face.
This so disturbed me, that I nearly fell with my lovely burthen into
the ditch. Nevertheless, I brought her happily over. She thanked me
so heartily and gazed so into my face with her large blue eyes that I
almost forgot to fetch the other. We now walked on across the meadow,
and, at the end, to my great disappointment, found a little bridge
which led us back over the ditch. This envious bridge robbed me of the
pleasure of carrying once more the sweet burthen. I escorted the girls
as far as the town, and then parted from them very unwillingly.--I will
immediately enquire their names and station.”
Already the next day I again met my fair one. The diary relates this
with comical ingenuousness:
“This evening, urged by God knows what impulse, I took the same walk
as yesterday, and again laid myself down in the very place where I
had been so agreeably disturbed by the girls. I began to read; but,
although I was at an interesting part, yet when I had run through
some pages, I had not the least idea of the contents. I now confessed
to myself that I had not come here to read, but in the hope of again
meeting my new acquaintance. I pocketed my book and gazed with longing
looks towards the place where I had first seen them yesterday. But;
after waiting in vain for two hours, I arose, vexed, and returned
towards the town. Just before reaching it, at a place where two roads
meet, I encountered some cows, on their way home from the meadow, which
blocked up my path and obliged me to wait. But I had not stood there
long, before I saw at some distance, a female figure, dressed in white,
coming towards me, and which had exactly the same fine form and high
bearing of her whom I had waited for with such earnest longing. As she
drew nearer, I was more convinced that it must be her, and I went to
meet her. I had not deceived myself--it was her! She greeted me with
her graceful friendliness, enquired how I was, and told me that her
friend had taken cold the evening before, and was obliged to keep her
bed. I said I was sorry to hear it, and that I feared I had been the
cause of the illness of her friend, in having delayed them too long in
their walk. She assured me however of the contrary, and laid all the
blame upon her friend herself, who had clad herself too lightly.”
“During this time the herd had passed by, and we separated. In this
second conversation I have again remarked in her so much polish of
manner, and so much tender feminine delicacy that I could not but infer
that she had been exceedingly well educated.--But, as yet I know not
who she is; though from her conversation, I am of opinion she must
belong to the bourgoisie.”
These meetings were now repeated almost every evening without prior
agreement, and I felt very unhappy when on one occasion I did not find
my friend. I became more and more confidential with her; spoke of my
parents; of my patron who provided me with the means to accompany
my eminent Instructor on his travels; mentioned my works, and plans
for the future; and felt myself drawn nearer to her by her friendly
interest for me. I saw in her the sum of all womanly perfections, and
imagined to have met _her_ who could make the happiness of my life.
When wandering hand in hand in the little wood by the lake side, I
was more than once upon the point of declaring my love to her; but a
timidity I could not conquer always prevented me. Respecting her own
circumstances, she was very reserved, and hence I was still ignorant as
to who she was. On the 24 of July I however wrote:
“At last I have learned the name of my fair one; but the enquiries
made, have cost me dear! Herr _Eck_, who is now almost recovered and
who has already taken some short walks, sent for a hair dresser. Of
him, I made enquiries. He told me her name was ***, and, that she was
the daughter of a groom of the chambers to the former Duke, who had
died some years ago. Her mother, with whom she lived, had a small
pension. To my question as to how that could enable her to dress so
elegantly? his reply was: they were probably presents from Herr von ***
who was very fond of her and visited her frequently. On hearing this,
my agony was so great, that I nearly let fall my violin,--and scarcely
had the courage to ask, whether her virtue was doubtfully spoken of. He
assured me nevertheless to the contrary, and was of opinion, that Herr
von ***, who had only come of age two months ago, had the intention of
marrying her. He was now travelling, and would return in some weeks.
I had made the acquaintance of this Herr von *** at the Inn where we
dined, before his departure, and must admit that he seemed to me the
most well bred young nobleman we met there. The less therefore do I
understand his making her presents and she accepting them; for she can
hardly permit herself to hope that he will marry her. And, if so, how
as a prudent girl, could she venture during his absence to take lonely
walks with a young man, and sit with him in the evening before the door
of the house? The affair is a riddle to me, and I am doubtful whether I
shall go to her this evening or not.”
The girl’s character however did not long remain a riddle to me; for
scarcely had _Eck_, who now again shared the evening walks, made her
acquaintance, than she received his attentions in a much more friendly
and forward manner than she had done mine. _Eck_, gallant and liberal,
arranged excursion-parties to please her, into the neighbourhood; to
Rheinsberg, Hohenzirze, and other places. For this, she rewarded him
with the most marked attention, and had eyes for him only. I felt
deeply wounded; the diary contains passionate outbursts of jealousy.
Fortunately they were confined to writing, and the good understanding
with my Instructor remained unshaken. The contempt I now felt for the
girl helped me to conquer my passion, and I turned to my studies with
renewed zeal. My diary states:
“I never remark the progress I have made in playing, more than when,
from time to time, I take up some old theme and remember how I used to
execute it. To-day for instance I took the Concerto I had studied in
Hamburgh and found, that I now executed with the greatest ease those
passages which I then could not play without a break.”
My Instructor also, did not leave me without encouragement; and when,
on the 16 of August, I had played my new Concerto; to my great delight,
Herr _Eck_ said: “If every three months you progress as you have done
in these, you will return to Brunswick a perfect virtuoso.”
Two days later, Aug. 18., I remained almost the whole day at home,
and composed a new Adagio to my Concerto; for although I had already
written three, yet none of them seemed to suit well to the other parts.
As evincing my youthful pride as a Composer, the following may here be
cited:
“I was told of a popular festival which was to be arranged at
Hohenzirze, August 27. the birthday of the hereditary Prince. To this
festival the peasants of the neighbouring villages are invited to a
dance and supper. There is also to be dancing at the castle. In answer
to my question, as to where so many musicians would be found, I learned
that the _Janitscharen_-music would play for the peasants, and the
Orchestra--imagine my astonishment--for the _dancing_ at Court! I would
not believe it at first, until repeated assurances of it were made
to me. But, I asked: how is it possible, that the Duke can require
such a thing from the members of his Orchestra, and that they have so
little feeling of honour and artistic pride as not to refuse it? The
reply was: the Duke does not consider it improper for his Orchestra to
play to dancers, and the majority of the members dare not disobey his
commands, for if discharged from here, poor bunglers as they are, they
would find it difficult to obtain places in other orchestras.”
As after the end of my unhappy love affair, my residence in Strelitz
had become unbearable, I longed greatly for our departure. This
however, was still delayed, for the doctor could not pronounce Herr
_Eck_ fully restored until the end of September. The unpleasantness of
my position was still further heightened by the friend of my faithless
one, whom at our first meeting I had named the “dark one”, turning her
affection most unmistakeably towards me; an affection, which, although
the girl was very pretty, I could not return. I withdrew myself from
their society as much as possible; but, out of regard to my Instructor,
I could not entirely refuse to share in the pleasure parties and
excursions which he constantly arranged; and at these I could not avoid
being the escort of the dark beauty. There are naive complaints in my
diary of the embarrassments which her tenderness caused me, and more
than once I wished the moment of our departure to arrive, which would
free me from such trials.
On the 27^{th} Sept., came at length the moment, when we were to say
farewell to our fair ones. Sophy (the dark one) had affected, or
perhaps really felt, an uncommon sadness for the last three days.
To-day she spoke not a word, only sighed sometimes, and, when the
others in the room did not observe it, threw herself passionately
upon my neck. About eight o’clock in the evening, Herr _Eck_ and Miss
*** left the room. Now for the first time the real outbreak of her
tenderness took place; for after she had also sent away her brothers
and sisters, she hardly let me out of her arms. I was obliged to bear
with it until ten o’clock; then we took leave. The poor girl shed so
many tears, that I was ashamed of my own dry eyes, and, in order not
to appear quite heartless, I kissed her warmly. Sophy accompanied me
to the door of the house, and pressed a paper into my hand, with the
request that I would keep it as a remembrance. I hastened home, opened
it, and found a letter with a gold ring containing some hair. The
letter ran as follows: “Noble friend, pardon a girl whose importunity
must certainly have been obvious to you. I knew that sometimes I did
more than was befitting my sex. But God knows, when in your company,
which was so dear to me, I could not control myself. Now also I force
upon you a small token, trifling indeed, but given with the most
openhearted impulse. My only wish and prayer is that you will wear it,
and remember me. Ah! could this paper but tell you how highly I value
having made your acquaintance, and how deeply I regret your going so
far away from us! I must conclude, and in the firm hope of seeing you,
my best friend, once more, I already rejoice at the day which will
restore you to us again. Farewell, and may you live as well and happily
as is the wish of your friend Sophy ***”
This unmerited and tender inclination may not have remained without
thankful acknowledgement; for the resolution to answer the letter in
a most friendly manner from Stettin, is expressed in the diary. But
there is nothing mentioned respecting the execution of that resolve.
We went to Danzic, via Stettin, arriving there October 2. As _Eck_ had
to deliver many letters of introduction, and had to arrange a Concert;
the lessons, which till now had been given regularly, came rather to a
standstill. Meanwhile, I thought, “that I made progress by only hearing
Herr _Eck_ practise.” We were constantly invited out to dinner, and for
the evening; among other invitations was one to the country seat of
Herr _Saurmann_, where from a hill behind the house, we could overlook
the Baltic and a great part of the town. The view of the sea and the
vessels upon it made an indiscribable impression upon me. As the day
was somewhat overcast, the ships appeared to hang in the clouds, and to
move slowly along with them. I could with difficulty tear myself away
from the magnificent sight.
At another dinner, in Mr. _Simpson’s_ garden, I had the honour to sit
beside the hostess. She induced me to relate to her many things of my
early life, namely: how I had been at first destined for the study
of medecine, and then, from a passionate inclination for music, had
been led to devote myself entirely to the art. She listened to me with
a benevolent interest, but at the end wounded my feelings by asking
whether I should not have done better to follow the profession of my
father. Wholly penetrated with the dignity of my artistic career, I
replied angrily: “As high as the soul is above the body, so high is he
who devotes himself to the ennobling of the mind, above him who only
attends to the mortal frame.”
Almost everytime that an opera was given, I went to the theatre, and
did not fail to note down my remarks upon the performance, in which
singers, chorus and orchestra were sharply handled.
To my great joy, Ariadne in Naxos, the celebrated melodrama of _Brade_,
which I did not yet know, was also given. But it offended my taste,
that in the comedy which followed, “The peasants and lawyers”, Theseus
appeared again in the character of a lawyer, and Ariadne as a humble
peasant girl. “The music enchanted me although it was very badly
performed. But how could it be otherwise, the score having only arrived
in the morning from Königsberg, and the first and only rehearsal having
been held at noon! Madame _Bochmann_, who played Ariadne, declaimed
indeed very well, but was too ugly for the part.” A young Englishman,
who sat next to me, said, that, he did not think Theseus to blame
for forsaking such an Ariadne. And upon this, he related to me the
following anecdote. At an amateur theatre in England, Ariadne was also
given. A rather elderly and anything but beautiful lady played the part
of Ariadne so excellently, that the audience broke out into applause
at the end of the piece. She modestly disclaimed the applause, saying:
“In order to represent Ariadne well, it was necessary to be both young
and handsome.” A young man, who wished to say something clever to her,
cried out: “O, Madam, you prove the contrary!”
Herr _Eck’s_ concert on October 16. at the Theatre, went off
brillantly. As I knew the pieces that my Instructor performed,
very accurately, I undertook to lead them on the first violin. The
musicians, who soon discovered how firm the young Conductor was,
followed me willingly, thereby rendering the performance of the Solo
player much easier; which he also thankfully acknowledged. Besides
the three pieces played by Herr _Eck_, there was also a Symphony by
_Haydn_, an Overture by _Mozart_, a pianoforte Concerto by _Danzi_,
played by Herr _Reichel_, and two Arias of _Cimarosa_ and _Mozart_ sung
by Fräulein _Wotruba_ and Herr _Ciliax_. “The success of Herr _Eck’s_
performances was great, and the applause enthusiastic and reiterated. I
also, had never before heard him play so well in public.”
On the 20^{th} Oct. we went on to Königsberg and remained there till
Nov. 18. _Eck_ gave two concerts which were very well attended. Being
introduced into many of the first houses by letters of introduction,
we were constantly invited to dinner as well as to musical parties.
In the house of the “Surgeon-General” _Gerlach_, I often practised
music with Fräulein _Gerlach_, who was a thoroughly cultivated
dilettante, and an excellent pianiste; and who also sang my new songs.
Whether these had any artistic worth is now not to be ascertained,
for they have been lost. I sometimes played quartetts with two
Messrs. _Friedländer_. It was not however these quartett parties
alone that attracted me to their house; Fräul. _Rebecca Oppenheim_,
the younger sister of Madame _Friedländer_, had again inflamed my too
susceptible heart. She was a Jewess, and the society that frequented
the house consisted almost entirely of Jews only; but they were all
polite and educated people. The day on which I took leave, I found
Madame _Friedländer_ and Fräul. _Rebecca_ alone. The latter was
overflowing with wit and humour, and we never ceased laughing, and
jesting, although this but ill suited the purport of my visit. “It is
fortunate,” says my diary, “that we leave to-morrow, for Rebecca is a
dangerous girl! He who loves his freedom and his peace must fly from
her, and the sooner the better.”
Before Herr _Eck_ gave his first concert, the family _Pixis_ arrived
at Königsberg upon their return from St. Petersburgh. I immediately
renewed our acquaintance. The eldest brother had in the mean time grown
very tall, and his soprano voice had changed to a deep bass. But he
still dressed “_à l’enfant_ with a turn-down collar and no necktie”.
They were much dissatisfied with their journey to Russia, and the
father even affirmed that he was a thousand rubles out of pocket during
their stay in St. Petersburgh, although he had taken with him two
hundred letters of introduction.