Louis Spohr's first visit to England was in 1820, whither he went on
invitation of the Philharmonic Society. He gives an amusing account of
his first day in London, on the streets of which city he appeared in
a most brilliantly colored shawl waistcoat, and narrowly escaped being
pelted by the enraged mob, for the English people were then in mourning
for the death of George III, which had recently occurred, and Spohr's
gay attire was construed as a public insult. He played several of his
own works at the opening Philharmonic concert, and the brilliant veteran
of the violin, Viotti, to become whose pupil had once been Spohr's
darling but ungratified dream, expressed the greatest admiration of the
German virtuoso's magnificent playing. The "Autobiography" relates an
amusing interview of Spohr with the head of the Rothschild's banking
establishment, to whom he had brought a letter of introduction from the
Frankfort Rothschild, as well as a letter of credit. "After Rothschild
had taken both letters from me and glanced hastily over them, he said
to me, in a subdued tone of voice, 'I have just read (pointing to
the "Times") that you manage 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 out and dine with me at my country house.' A few
days afterward Mme. Rothschild also invited me to dinner, but I did not
go, though she repeated the invitation."
While in London on this visit Spohr composed his B flat Symphony,
which was given by the Philharmonic Society under the direction of the
composer himself, and, as he tells us in his "Autobiography," it was
played better than he ever heard it afterward. His English reception, on
the whole, was a very cordial one, and he secured a very high place
in public estimation, both as a violinist and orchestral composer. On
returning to Germany, Spohr gave a series of concerts, during which time
he produced his great D minor violin concerto, making a great sensation
with it. He had not yet visited Paris in a professional way, and in the
winter of 1821 he turned his steps thitherward, in answer to a pressing
invitation from the musicians of that great capital. On January 20th he
made his _début_ before a French audience, and gave a programme mostly
of his own compositions. Spohr asserts that the satisfaction of the
audience was enthusiastically expressed, but the fact that he did not
repeat the entertainment would suggest a suspicion that the impression
he made was not fully to his liking. It may be he did not dare take
the risk in a city so full of musical attractions of every description.
Certainly he did not like the French, though his reception from the
artists and literati was of the most friendly sort. He was disgusted
"with the ridiculous vanity of the Parisians." He writes: "When one or
other of their musicians plays anything, they say, 'Well! can you
boast of that in Germany?' Or when they introduce to you one of their
distinguished artists, they do not call him the first in Paris, but at
once the first in the world, although no nation knows less what other
countries possess than they do, in their--for their vanity's sake most
fortunate--ignorance."
Spohr's appointment to the directorship of the court theatre at Cassel
occurred in the winter of 1822, and he confesses his pleasure in the
post, as he believed he could make its fine orchestra one of the most
celebrated in Germany. He remained in this position for about thirty
years, and during that time Cassel became one of the greatest musical
centers of the country. His labors were assiduous, for he had the
true tireless German industry, and he soon gave the world his opera
of "Jessonda," which was first produced on July 28, 1823, with marked
success. "Jessonda" has always kept its hold on the German stage, though
it was not received with much favor elsewhere. Another opera, "Der Berg
Geist" ("The Mountain Spirit"), quickly followed, the work having been
written to celebrate the marriage of the Princess of Hesse with the Duke
of Saxe-Meiningen. One of his most celebrated compositions, the oratorio
"Die Letzten Dinge" ("The Last Judgment"), which is more familiar
to English-speaking peoples than any other work of Spohr, was first
performed on Good Friday, 1826, and was recognized from the first as
a production of masterly excellence. Spohr's ability as a composer of
sacred music would have been more distinctly accepted, had it not been
that Handel, Haydn, and, in more recent years, Mendelssohn, raised the
ideal of the oratorio so high that only the very loftiest musical genius
is considered fit to reign in this sphere. The director of the Cassel
theatre continued indefatigable in producing works of greater or less
excellence, chamber-music, symphonies, and operas. Among the latter,
attention may be called to "Pietro Albano" and the "Alchemist," clever
but in no sense brilliant works, though, as it became the fashion in
Germany to indulge in enthusiasm over Spohr, they were warmly praised
at home. The best known of his orchestral works, "Die Weihe der Tone
" ("The Power of Sound"), a symphony of unquestionable greatness, was
produced in 1832. We are told that Spohr had been reading a volume of
poems which his deceased friend Pfeiffer had left behind him, when he
alighted on "Die Weihe der Tone," and the words delighted him so much
that he thought of using them as the basis of a cantata. But he changed
his purpose, and finally decided to delineate the subject of the poem
in orchestral composition. The finest of all Spohr's symphonies was the
outcome, a work which ranks high among compositions of this class. His
toil on the new oratorio of "Calvary" was sadly interrupted by the death
of his beloved wife Dorette, who had borne him a large family, and had
been his most sympathetic and devoted companion. Spohr was so broken
down by this calamity that it was several months before he could resume
his labors, and it was because Dorette during her illness had felt such
a deep interest in the progress of the work that the desolate husband
so soon plucked heart to begin again. When the oratorio was produced on
Good Friday, 1835, Spohr records in his diary: "The thought that my wife
did not live to listen to its first performance sensibly lessened the
satisfaction I felt at this my most successful work." This oratorio was
not given in England till 1839, at the Norwich festival, Spohr being
present to conduct it. The zealous and narrow-minded clergy of the day
preached bitterly against it as a desecration, and one fierce bigot
hurled his diatribes against the composer, when the latter was present
in the cathedral. A journal of the day describes the scene: "We now see
the fanatical zealot in the pulpit, and sitting right opposite to him
the great composer, with ears happily deaf to the English tongue, but
with a demeanor so becoming, with a look so full of pure good-will, and
with so much humility and mildness in the features, that his countenance
alone spoke to the heart like a good sermon. Without intending it, we
make a comparison, and can not for a moment doubt in which of the two
dwelt the spirit of religion which denoted the true Christian."
Spohr had been two years a widower when he became enamored of one of
the daughters of Court Councilor Pfeiffer. He tells us he had long been
acquainted "with the high and varied intellectual culture of the two
sisters, and so I became fully resolved to sue for the hand of the
elder, Marianne, whose knowledge of music and skill in pianoforte
playing I had already observed when she sometimes gave her assistance
at the concerts of the St. Cecilia Society. As I had not the courage
to propose to 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 as yet perfectly
free from the infirmities of age." The proposition was accepted, and
they were married without delay on January 3, 1836. The bridal couple
made a long journey through the principal German cities, and were
universally received with great rejoicings. Musical parties and banquets
were everywhere arranged for them, at which Spohr and his young
wife delighted every one by their splendid playing. The "Historical"
symphony, descriptive of the music and characteristics of different
periods, was finished in 1839, and made a very favorable impression both
in Germany and England. Spohr had now become quite at home in England,
where his music was much liked, and during different years went to the
country, where oratorio music is more appreciated than anywhere else
in the musical world, to conduct the Norwich festival. One of his most
successful compositions of this description, "The Fall of Babylon," was
written expressly for the festival of 1842. When it was given the next
year in London under Spohr's own direction, the president of the Sacred
Harmonic Society presented the composer at the close of the performance
with a superb silver testimonial in the name of the society.