and was drawn up and commanded by the Emperor in person. In his
suite rode the whole of the General Staff, and the Ambassadors from
Foreign Courts. At ten o’clock the Empress made her appearance with
the Court, occupying some twenty magnificent carriages. The State
Carriage in which the Empress mother sat by the side of the Empress,
was covered with gilding and richly inlaid with precious stones. On
the top of the carriage was a crown of brilliants, fixed upon a purple
cushion. This state carriage was drawn by eight cream coloured horses
in silver harness, ornamented also with precious stones. The other
Court carriages which were also very handsome, were each drawn by
six horses. The Emperor rode a magnificent horse richly caparisoned,
but was otherwise dressed in a very plain uniform. In his suite was
a Turkish Prince who attracted the attention of all by the splendour
of his dress. The hilt of his sabre was covered with diamonds, and
his stirrups and spurs were of massive gold. When the cortège had
arrived in front of the Isaak’s Church, the Emperor dismounted and
led the Empress into the edifice, where the _Te-Deum laudamus_ was
immediately chaunted by the Singers of the Court. Unfortunately we
were not successful in our effort to get into the Church, as the doors
were closed immediately after the entrance of the Court. But it is
very probable that even in the interior of the building little of the
Music could be heard, for not only were all the bells set ringing, but
salvos of artillery were fired from the fortress, and by the ships
of war lying in the Newa. The Military drawn up on the Square before
the Church increased the noise yet more by the fire of musketry, and
the populace were not at all backward in shouting, so in this manner
not a single note of the Music reached us on the square. After the
Service was ended, the Court proceeded on foot through two lines of
soldiers to the Senate House. What ceremonies took place there, I was
unable to ascertain. After the space of about half an hour, the Court
resumed their places in the carriages, and the cortège returned in
the same order to the palace. In the evening the City was brilliantly
illuminated, and more so than I had ever yet seen. At nine o’clock,
_Leveque_ came to fetch me, and took me first of all to the Summer
Garden. Dark clouds hung in the sky, and threatened to extinguish the
lamps which had been but just lighted, with a heavy shower. With the
now clear nights, when it keeps so light till midnight that one can
read and write without a candle, this black sky was most welcome, for
otherwise the illumination would have been less effective. The Garden
was very brilliantly lit up. On both sides of the alleys a wooden
frame work had been raised which was thickly hung with glass lamps of
different colours. At the end of the Alleys, were seen brilliantly
illuminated triumphal arches, in the centre of which shone the capital
letters P (Peter) and A (Alexander). The whole of the Pavillions
throughout the garden were also lit up in a splendid and tasteful
manner.
But the Fortress presented a truly magic sight, as on leaving the
Garden we came on the bank of the Newa. It swam in a very sea of fire!
The granite masonry of the walls was hung with white lamps, the pillars
and the cornice of the entrance gate with red, and the sentry boxes on
the top of the ramparts with blue. The graceful tower of the fortress
was lit up to its topmost point, and as there was no wind, there was
not even one lamp that did not burn. From the place where we stood,
the whole fairy like scene was again seen reflected in the Newa at our
feet! It was indeed an enchanting sight! But the sky grew constantly
darker and more threatening; we were therefore obliged to make haste,
in order to see other parts of the city. Near the bridge, which was
also brilliantly illuminated, we saw a large ship hung with lamps up
to the very tops of the masts, between which countless streamers were
waving.
The streets which radiate from the Admiralty in the form of a fan,
many of which are above two miles in length, were lit up as light
as day, and presented a magnificent sight, with the merry crowds
streaming through them in their gayest attire. Among the Public
Buildings which were richly decorated with transparencies and devices,
the Admiralty was especially conspicuous. Some private houses also,
exhibited transparencies, among others that of the Grand Chamberlain
_Narischkin_; in which, Mars, accompanied by the allegorical figures
of Wisdom and Justice, crowned the letters P. and A., the first of
which had beneath it the Inscription: _Gloire du premier Siècle_,
and the last: _Gloire du second Siècle_!--We now followed the stream
of the multitude, which pressed forward to the Summer Garden where a
display of Fire Works was to take place. But we had scarcely reached
the Arcades of the Winter Palace, when a sudden torrent of rain put
an end at once to the splendour of the scene, and St. Petersburgh but
a few minutes before brilliant as with the light of day, was shrouded
in Egyptian darkness! Under the Arcades of the Square where we had
taken shelter, was the only place that remained illuminated. This
circumstance procured for us a curious and amusing spectacle. The mass
of people all dressed in their various coloured Sunday attire, who were
flying home out of the Summer Garden, were obliged to pass in review
before the place where we stood, and dripping with rain they presented
a comical sight enough. Some women had drawn their dresses over their
heads in place of umbrellas; others, trusting to the darkness, had
even taken off their shoes and stockings to save them, and waded by
barefooted, not a little discomposed at being obliged to pass by a
place lit up so brightly, and filled with laughing spectators. At
length after about an hour, the rain ceased, and we now could also
return to our homes. On the 1. June, (20. May) I packed up my last
things and then went to take leave of my friends and acquaintances. The
parting from my kind friend _Remi_, was very painful, and cost us both
many tears. He promised in a few years to pay me a visit in Germany. My
leave taking from my Instructor to whom I owed so much, was a very sad
one, and the more so, that for some time past he had again been very
unwell, and I therefore feared I should never see him again!
This fear was but too well grounded; we never saw each other more!
Respecting his subsequent and in part highly romantic fate, I have
learned the following, but cannot pledge myself for its entire truth,
since I derived it for the most part from hearsay.
At the time I left St. Petersburgh, _Eck_ had entered upon a love
affair with a daughter of a Member of the Imperial Orchestra, but
without the least notion of marrying the girl. Shocked at such levity,
I thought it my duty to caution the parents. I did so; but my warning
was received with coldness and disbelief. Some months afterwards, when
the visits of Herr _Eck_ had suddenly ceased, the daughter confessed
with tears that she had been seduced by him, and that she already
felt the consequences of it. Her mother, a resolute woman, succeeded
in obtaining an audience of the Emperor; threw herself at his feet,
and implored the restitution of her daughter’s honour. The Emperor
consented. In true Russo-Imperial style he offered Herr _Eck_ the
choice: either to marry his sweetheart within twenty four hours, or
prepare for a promenade to Siberia. Herr _Eck_ naturally chose the
former. That a marriage sprung out of such circumstances would soon
become a hell upon earth, may easily be imagined. _Eck_, whose health
had been already greatly shattered by his former excesses, could not
long endure the effects of the daily recurring matrimonial discords.
He lost his senses, and soon became so furious, that the mother in
law was again obliged to entreat the Emperor’s assistance. He granted
a dissolution of the marriage; gave the wife a pension, and ordered
the husband to be sent under proper care to his brother, at Nancy.
The selection of the man to whom the unfortunate sufferer and the sum
granted by the Emperor for the journey were entrusted, was however,
a very unluckly one, and failed in its object; for scarcely had he
arrived in Berlin with the invalid, than he declared to the Russian
Ambassor there, that the money was expended, and therefore he could
accompany his charge no farther. At the same time he laid before the
Ambassor an account of his expenses, according to which indeed, the
sum given by the Emperor was exhausted. There were however some very
extraordinary items in the account; among others, a dinner of one
hundred covers, which the lunatic had ordered without the knowledge of
his guardian, in one of the first Hotels in Riga, and which the latter
had been obliged to pay. Whether the Ambassador remained satisfied with
this account, was never known; but the Guardian disappeared all of a
sudden!
In the meantime, the lunatic finding that he was no longer watched,
was seized with the desire to escape. One evening, half dressed only,
he succeeded in slipping out of his room unperceived; and as there was
a heavy fall of snow at the time, he effected his escape unperceived
through the city gate. He had already got some miles from Berlin when
he was seized by some peasants, and as they believed him to be an
escaped convict they brought him back bound to the city. At the Police
Office, the poor half frozen fugitive was soon discovered to be a
lunatic, and handed over to the Asylum for the insane. Some members of
the Court Orchestra who a few years before had known and admired the
unfortunate man in the height of his artistic career, became interested
for him. They set on foot a subscription among their colleagues and
some wealthy amateurs of the Art, and with the proceeds they sent him
under the care of a trustworthy man to his brother at Nancy. The latter
procured for him a becoming treatment in the Asylum at Strasbourg,
where he remained for several years. His misfortune then reached the
ears of his former patroness the Dowager Electress of Bavaria, who
sent him to a clergyman of Offenbach or somewhere near that place, who
devoted himself to the cure of the insane. There, it is said, if not
quite cured, he became much more composed, so that a violin could again
be placed in his hands, from which it is said he drew the most touching
melodies. After the death of the Electress he was then placed in the
Asylum for the insane at Bamberg, where, either in 1809 or 1810, he
died.
On the 2. June (21. May) at 9 in the morning, we sailed from St.
Petersburgh.
“On passing a guard ship at the mouth of the Newa we were compelled to
show our passports, these were returned to us without charge, which
from our previous experience astonished us greatly. As the wind was
against us, the sailors were obliged to row continually, this made the
progress slow and at length very tedious; so that we were very glad
when at last we arrived at 2 o’clock at Cronstadt. We there put up at
the German eating house, the master of which had been recommended to
us for his honesty. But with all that, he retained also the thorough
bluntness, not to say rudeness of his class, for when we returned at
9 in the evening from a walk, and asked for supper, he replied with a
true north-German accent: now is no time for eating, people go to bed
now! And with that he turned his back upon us. Dumbstruck, we went
up stairs, and had already made up our minds that we must go hungry
to bed, when he at length had us called down to supper. At first we
were much inclined to refuse it; but our hunger got the better of our
sensitiveness. We went down, found a right good repast, and the host
who waited upon us himself, sought to make amends for his previous
rudeness by the most friendly behaviour.”
It was not until after some days that the wind became fair for
the farther voyage; but very soon, and for a very long time, the
“Saturn”--so our ship was called--was obliged to tack about, and on
the 14 June “we were still not far distant from the high land, which
we had already reached on the first day.” On the second day the sea
rose very high, and the passengers therefore, three women and nine men,
became all sea-sick one after the other. With me it began with a head
ache. “I felt my courage so depressed, that I bitterly repented to have
come by sea.” But on the fourth day I got better, and in a short time,
although the sea was still very rough, I felt as well as on land. It
was not so with all, for the ladies and also some of the gentlemen were
for a long time sick and invisible. _Leveque_ and I amused ourselves
meanwhile very well. We played duetts, read, wrote, and made sketches;
walked up and down the deck and ate and drank with real appetite. In
this way passed day after day. But like the others, we longed for a
fair wind, “for this eternal tacking, with which one makes but little
progress, is quite unbearable!”
On the 15 June, the wind grew fair; on the 16, it fell almost calm, and
on the 20, we had a storm. This was so violent that the ship cracked
in every timber. “I crept ill as I was, upon deck, to see the terribly
grand spectacle. I got thoroughly drenched it is true, for the waves
broke every moment over the deck, nor could I long endure above the
piercing wind and cold. But it was worth the effort, to see how the
waves like mountains, came rolling on, threatening to submerge us, how
they then suddenly seized us, lifted us high in air, and then again as
quickly let us plunge into a deep abyss! Although I had become somewhat
accustomed to this sight by the previously experienced high sea, yet
every time we made a plunge, I felt my back run cold, and should have
thought we were in great danger, had I not read the contrary in the
calm face of the captain. He gave his orders always with the same
coolness. But it was nevertheless fearful to behold how the seamen
clambered to the top of the masts, and then out upon the yards to reef
the sails. Only those who have grown up amid such perils can brave
unmoved the wild rage of the elements.”
On the 26 June, we arrived off Bornholm, a Danish island, on which
we could perceive two small towns, several villages, and a carefully
cultivated country. “The sight of the green cornfields which I had not
beheld for so long a time was particularly cheering to me.” From a
small neighbouring island “some peasants put off to us in a boat with
some fresh meat, vegetables and milk. I was particularly pleased with
the latter, for I could not at all relish the black coffee.”
“On one or two evenings, with a clear sky and calm weather, we had a
sight, such as one never sees in the same grandeur upon land, namely,
the sun set. It is impossible to describe the splendour of the ever
changing colours, with those also of the clouds scattered over the
heavens, and which were again reflected in a sea as smooth as glass;
but the impression made by this heavenly sight in the solemn stillness
of the evening, upon the whole ship-company assembled on the deck, will
never be forgotten by me. I saw the most callous among them moved by
it.”
At length on the 28 June, after a voyage of one and twenty days, the
“Saturn” cast anchor in the roads of Travemünde, and on the 5. July,
1803, I was once more in my native town Brunswick, which after my long
absence was now doubly dear to me. We arrived at 2 o’clock in the
morning.
I alighted at the Petri Gate, crossed the Ocker in a boat, and hastened
to my grandmother’s garden. But arrived there, I found both the house
and garden doors locked, and as my knocking was not heard, I clambered
over the garden wall, and laid myself down on the ground in an open
summer house at the bottom of the garden. Fatigued by the journey I
immediately fell asleep, and notwithstanding the hardness of my couch,
would probably have slept on for a long time, had not my aunts in
their morning walk in the garden, discovered me in my retreat. Greatly
allarmed, they turned back, and told my grandmother that a strange man
was lying in the summerhouse. Returning all three together, they had
courage to approach nearer, recognised me, and I was now awakened
with joyous exclamations, embraces and kisses. For some time I could
not recollect where I was; at length I recognised my dear relations,
and was overjoyed to find myself among them once more, and in the home
of my childhood. They had been very anxious about me, as owing to our
tediously long sea passage they had received no intelligence of us for
six weeks.
The first pleasing news that I heard, was, that the celebrated _Rode_
was there, and would shortly play at Court. I therefore immediately
announced my return to the Duke, in order to be permitted to attend the
Court-concert.
I immediately closed my oft cited Diary, with the wish that “it might
often afford me a pleasing remembrance of the agreable journey.”
I was received by my Patron with the same benevolent kindness as
formerly, which was manifested also, by his gift of the remainder
of the sum furnished for my travelling expenses, which was by no
means inconsiderable, and which upon my handing in the account and
the balance, was presented to me by the Grand Chamberlain. For the
dedication of my Concerto, which I had handed to the Duke on my first
interview, I also received twenty Friedrichsd’or.[5]
[5] One Fredericks d’or (single) = 16^s 6^d English.
I now burned with the desire, to appear with this Concerto before the
Duke, in public, as a Violinist and Composer; to exhibit proofs of my
industry, and the progress I had made. But this was not to be effected
so readily, for _Rode_ had already announced a Concert to be given
in the Theatre. The idea of making my appearance so soon after that
celebrated Violinist was also a source of some anxiety to me. For the
more I heard him play, the more was I captivated with his playing.
Yes! I had no hesitation to place _Rode’s_ style of play (then still
reflecting all the brilliancy of that of his great master _Viotti_,)
above that of my Instructor _Eck_, and to apply myself sedulously
to acquire it as much as possible by a careful practice of _Rode’s_
compositions.
In this I succeeded also, by no means ill, and up to the time when I
had by degrees formed a style of playing of my own, I had become the
most faithful imitator of _Rode_ among all the young violinists of that
day. I succeeded more especially in executing in his style the eighth
Concerto, the three first Quartetts, and the world famed Variations in
G-Major; in these, both in Brunswick, and afterwards on my first grand
artistic tour, I achieved great success.
Shortly after _Rode’s_ departure, the day I had so ardently wished
for arrived, on which in a Concert given by me at the Theatre, I was
to exhibit the first proofs of the artistic skill I had acquired on
my travels. Curiosity had assembled a numerous audience. From the
ready surety with which I could play not only my own Concerti, but the
other music I had practised under _Eck’s_ direction, I might have been
expected to feel no embarrassment upon my appearance. Nevertheless, I
could not wholly overcome it, when I thought, that, but shortly before,
in the very place where I stood, so great a Violinist had played
before the same audience. But I had now to put to shame my invidious
detractors, who on my setting out upon my journey had loudly asserted
that the Duke would again throw away his money upon one who would prove
incapable and ungrateful. I therefore summoned all my resolution, and
already during the Tutti of my Concerto, I succeeded in banishing
from my mind all and every thing around me, and gave myself up to my
play with my whole soul. The result, also, was a success beyond all
expectation; for already after the first Solo, a general applause broke
forth, which increased with every succeeding one, and at the end of
the Concert seemed as though it would never cease. The Duke, also, who
during the intervening pause sent for the young _artiste_ to his box,
expressed to him his full satisfaction. That day, therefore, is still
borne in my remembrance as one of the happiest of my life.
I was now appointed First Violin, in the place of a recently deceased
“_Kammermusicus_” and received the additional salary accruing to that
post, of 200 thalers. But as on account of the three months grace
allowed to his widow, this salary could not immediately commence, I was
compensated by another present of twenty Friedrichsd’or.
With my salary of three hundred thalers, and my additional evenings
I could at that time live quite respectably and free from care. I
therefore, again took my brother Ferdinand to live with me, and devoted
myself assiduously to his improvement. As I had not yet seen my parents
and brothers and sister, I went to Seesen to fetch him. While there I
received a visit from my fellow traveller _Leveque_, who was about to
return to St. Petersburgh. During the eight days we were together, we
played diligently, and my parents and musical friends of the little
town were especially delighted with the performance of my Duetts, which
we had so perfectly studied during the sea voyage.
On my return to Brunswick, I began anew my labours in composition.
I first of all completed a Violin-Concerto in E-Minor, which I had
commenced on the journey, but which remained unpublished, because it
no longer pleased me after I had adopted _Rode’s_ style of execution.
Nevertheless I played it several times with great applause in the
Winter-Concerts. At that time also, at the wish of the Violoncellist
_Beneke_, whom I frequently met at Quartett parties, I wrote a
Concertante for Violin and Violoncello with orchestral accompaniment.
Neither was this work ever published, and not even included in the list
of my compositions, as at the time I began to make that, I did not lay
my hand on it, and indeed had wholly forgotten it. Nevertheless there
must be some copy of it in existence, for I heard it once in 1817 or
1818, at a concert in Mayence given by the brothers _Gans_, afterwards
members of the Royal Orchestra at Berlin, who played it without at the
same time acknowledging it as my composition. It is true, the piece of
music seemed known to me, just as though I had heard it before; but
not until I had asked my neighbour for the programme of the concert,
and seen my name affixed to the piece, did the recollection of that
production of my youth recur to my mind. I now recollect nothing more
of it, than that it consisted of an _Adagio_ and _Rondo_, and the last
written in 6/8 time. But I can no longer remember the key.
The practise of this Concertante with _Beneke_ may probably have given
rise to the resolution we formed to make an artistic tour together,
and to Paris; where I had long desired to go. The permission for this
journey was readily obtained through the favour in which I stood with
the Duke, and so we set out upon it in January, 1804, with the most
pleasing anticipations.
We first spent some few days with my parents at Seesen, from whence we
announced our coming to Göttingen, to give our first concert there. For
the journey thither, we hired a carriage. Shortly before my leaving
Brunswick I had had a case made more worthy of the splendid Violin I
had brought from Russia, i. e. a very elegant one, and in order to
protect this from all injury, I had packed it in my trunk between my
linen and clothes. I therefore took care that this, which contained
my whole estate, should be carefully fastened behind the carriage
with cords. But, notwithstanding, I thought it necessary to look out
round at it, frequently, particularly as the driver told me that but
recently between Nordheim and Göttingen, several trunks had been cut
down from behind carriages. As the carriage had no window at the back,
this continual looking out behind was a very troublesome business, and
I was therefore very glad, when towards evening we arrived between
the gardens of Göttingen, and I had convinced myself for a last time
that the trunk was still in its place. Delighted, that I had brought
it so far in safety, I remarked to my fellow-traveller: my first care
shall now be to procure a good strong chain and padlock for the better
security of the trunk.
In this manner we arrived at the town gate, just as they were lighting
the lamps. The carriage drew up before the guardhouse. While _Beneke_
gave our names to the sergeant, I anxiously asked one of the soldiers
who stood round the carriage: is the trunk still well secured?
“There is no trunk there!” was the reply. With one bound I was out of
the carriage, and rushed out through the gate with a drawn hunting
knife. Had I with more reflection listened awhile, I might perhaps have
been fortunate enough to hear and overtake the thieves running off by
some side path. But in my blind rage, I had far overshot the place
where I had last seen the trunk, and only discovered my overhaste when
I found myself in the open field. Inconsolable for my loss, I turned
back. While my fellow-traveller looked for the Inn, I hastened to the
Police Office, and requested that an immediate search might be made in
the gardenhouses outside the gate. With astonishment and vexation I was
informed that the jurisdiction outside the gate belonged to Weende,
and that I must address my request there. As Weende was half a league
from Göttingen, I was compelled to abandon for that evening all further
steps for the recovery of my things. That these would prove fruitless
on the following morning, I now also felt assured; and I passed a
sleepless night, in a state of mind such as in my hitherto fortunate
career had been wholly unknown to me. Had I not have lost my splendid
Guarneri-violin, the exponent of all the artistic excellence I had
till then attained, I could have lightly borne the loss of the rest. A
moderate success during the tour would soon replace them. But in this
manner, without a violin, I should be compelled not only to give up the
journey, but in a certain degree recommence my study anew from the very
beginning.
On the following morning the Police sent to inform me that an empty
trunk and a violin-case had been found in the fields behind the
gardens. Full of joy I hastened thither, in the hope that the thieves
might have left the violin in the case, as an object of no value to
them, and as likely to lead to their discovery. But unfortunately it
did not prove so. The bow of the violin, only, a genuine _Tourté_,
secured in the lid of the case, had remained undiscovered; everything
else, inclusive also of a sum in gold for the expenses of the journey,
had been carried off. The Music had been considered unworthy of the
thieves’ notice. It was found strewed all over the field. As my
manuscripts were among it, of which I had no copies, I was glad to have
recovered these at least.