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.

Louis Spohr's Autobiography Translated from the German · 第 44 / 58 段