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.