me; at the same time I was perfectly aware that in the first moments
after the representation[72] you would view in far too favourable a
light, and far too highly prize, my music and its success. But that you
should do so, and feel yourself thus rewarded for the many and great
efforts which this representation has cost you, is indeed to me a source
of the highest gratification. Accept my most cordial thanks. May I, by
better works, deserve your too partial opinion! May all my works find
friends as loving to adopt them, and to bring them to a satisfactory
execution! May this also be the case at all times with your own works; I
cannot desire anything better for you.
I am also exceedingly indebted to you for having been so kind as to
thank the performers in my name. According to your suggestion, I am
writing some lines to Herr Morel, who directed the music, requesting him
to be assured of my gratitude, and to express this also to Herr Boccage;
but do not be displeased with me if I decline taking the other
hint,--as to making a present to the leading performers. This would be
contrary to the fixed principles which I adopted at the beginning of my
musical career,--never in any way to mix up my personal position with my
musical one, or ever to improve the latter by the influence of the
former, or in any manner to bribe public or private opinion with regard
to me, or even to attempt to strengthen it. Precisely owing to the
heartfelt gratitude I entertain towards all those who interest
themselves in my music, it would be impossible for me to follow the
fashion of giving similar presents, without for ever embittering for the
future, the gratitude, and the joy emanating from it. And although this
fashion may have been introduced by great authorities, I must always
remain true to myself, and to what I deem to be right, and feel to be
right; so you must excuse me for not complying with this practice.[73] I
trust that you will not be angry with me, and rather defend me against
those who may attack me on this account. You will acknowledge that every
man must fix certain rules by which he is to live and act, and will not
therefore misconstrue my adhering to mine. My hearty greeting to all my
friends, and may we have a happy meeting in our Fatherland.--Your
devoted
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
TO CARL KLINGEMANN, LONDON.
Soden, near Frankfort-a.-M., July 17th, 1844.
My dearest Friend,
I found all my family well, and we had a joyful meeting when I arrived
here on Saturday, in health and happiness, after a very rapid journey.
Cécile looks so well again,--tanned by the sun, but without the least
trace of her former indisposition; my first glance told this when I came
into the room, but to this day I cannot cease rejoicing afresh every
time that I look at her. The children are as brown as Moors, and play
all day long in the garden. I employed yesterday and the day before
entirely in recovering from my great fatigue, in sleeping and eating,--I
did not a little in that way, and so I am myself again now, and I take
one of the sheets of paper that Cécile painted for me to write to you.
Once more I thank you from my very heart for the past happy time,--all
that is good and imperishable in it comes from you; so I feel most
grateful to you, and pray continue to love me, as I shall you so long as
I live.
I am sitting here at the open window, looking into the garden at the
children, who are playing with their “dear Johann.”[74] The omnibus to
Königstein passes this twice every day. We have early strawberries for
breakfast, at two we dine, have supper at half-past eight in the
evening, and by ten we are all asleep. Hoffmann von Fallersleben is
here, and paid me a visit yesterday. All those who are entitled to do
so, wear a bit of ribbon in their button-holes, and are called
“Geheimrath;” all the world talking of Prussia and blaming her,--in fact
they speak of nothing else. The country is covered with pear-trees and
apple-trees, so heavy with fruit that they are all propped up; then the
blue hills, and the windings of the Maine and the Rhine; the
confectioner, from whom you can buy thread and shirt-buttons; the
well-spring No. 18, which is also called the Champagne Spring; the Herr
Medicinalrath Thilenius; the list of visitors, which comes out every
Saturday, as ‘Punch’ does with you; the walking-post, who, before going
to Frankfort, calls as he passes to ask what we want, and next day
brings me my linen back; the women who sell cherries, with whom my
little four-year-old Paul makes a bargain, or sends them away, just as
he pleases; above all, the pure Rhenish air,--this is familiar to all,
and I call it Germany!
TO PAUL MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
Soden, July 19th, 1844.
My dear Brother,
I am once more on German ground and soil; well, fresh, and happy at
home, having found all my family in the best health possible; and we
now pass our days pleasantly here, in this most lovely country.
My visit to England was glorious; I never was anywhere received with
such universal kindness as on this occasion, and I had more music in
these two months than elsewhere in two years. My A minor symphony twice,
the “Midsummer Night’s Dream” three times, “St. Paul” twice, the trio
twice; the last evening of my stay in London the “Walpurgis Nacht,” with
quite wonderful applause; besides these, the variations for two
performers on the piano, the quartett twice, the D major and E minor
quartett twice, various songs without words, Bach’s D minor concerto
twice, and Beethoven’s G major concerto. These are some of the pieces
which I played in public. Then, in addition, the direction of all the
Philharmonic and other concerts, the innumerable parties, the
publication of “Israel in Egypt,” which I worked at for the Handel
Society, and revised from the manuscript; and in the midst of all this
the composition of the overture to “Athalia,” which, being excessively
troublesome, was no slight task.[75]
You can gather from this how gay and stirring my life was. My chief
aim--to do a service to the Philharmonic Society--succeeded beyond all
expectation; it is the universal opinion that they have not had such a
season for years past. This, to be sure, does not cure the radical evil
which I this time amply experienced, and which, must prevent the Society
continuing to prosper--the canker in its constitution--musical _rotten
boroughs_, etc. But more of this and many other points when we meet. One
thing I must also mention, which I regretted chiefly on your account. I
was invited to go to Dublin, to be made a Doctor by the University
there, and Morgan John O’Connell wished to give me a letter to his uncle
in prison; but I could not accept it, on account of the short time, and
the intense excitement of such a journey, in five days. The thought of
the great pleasure you would have felt in my doing so was constantly
present with me, and I gave up the idea with sincere regret. What a
strange contrast this quiet little spot forms to all the previous
immense excitement! Here a walk of ten minutes brings you to the heights
of the Taunus, with a view over the valleys of the Maine and Rhine, as
far as Frankfort, Worms, and Mayence. Here I can look all around for
days and days, and require nothing further, and yet do as much, or, in
fact, more, than in the midst of the excitement in London.--Your
FELIX.
TO FANNY HENSEL, BERLIN.
Soden, July 25th, 1844.
If you refuse to come to Soden for a fortnight, to enjoy with me the
incredible fascinations of this country and locality, all my
descriptions are of no avail; and, alas! I know too well that you will
not come. I therefore spare you many descriptions. My family improve
every day in health, while I lie under apple-trees and huge oaks. In the
latter case, I request the swine-herd to drive his animals under some
other tree, not to disturb me (this happened yesterday); further, I eat
strawberries with my coffee, at dinner and supper; I drink the waters of
the Asmannshäuser spring, rise at six o’clock, and yet sleep nine hours
and a half (pray, Fanny, at what hour do I go to bed?). I visit all the
wondrously beautiful environs, I generally meet Herr B. in the most
romantic spot of all (happened yesterday), who gives me the latest and
best report of you all, and addresses me as General Music Director,
which sounds as strange here as Oberursel, and Lorschbach, and
Schneidheim would to you. Then towards evening I have visits from Lenau,
and Hoffmann von Fallersleben, and Freiligrath, when we stroll through
the fields for a quarter of an hour near home, and find fault with the
system of the world, utter prophecies about the weather, and are unable
to say what England is prepared to do in the future. Further, I sketch
busily, and compose still more busily. (_A propos_, look for the organ
piece in A major, that I composed for your wedding, and wrote out in
Wales, and send it to me here immediately; you shall positively have it
back, but I require it. I have promised an English publisher to furnish
him with a whole book of organ pieces, and as I was writing out one
after another, that former one recurred to me. I like the beginning, but
detest the middle, and am re-writing it with another choral fugue; but
should like to compare it with the original, so pray send it here.)
Further, I must unluckily go to-morrow to Zweibrücken,[76] and I don’t
feel much disposed for this; still, there is first-rate wine at Dürkheim
(as credible witnesses inform me), and I hear the country is very
beautiful, and to-morrow week (God willing) I shall be here again, when
I shall once more lie under the apple-trees, etc., _dal segno_. Ah! if
this could go on for ever!
Jesting apart, the contrast of these days with my stay in England is so
remarkable, that I can never forget it. The previous three weeks _not a
single hour_ unoccupied, and here the whole of the bright days free,
without an employment of any kind, except what I choose for myself
(which is the sole fruitful and profitable kind), and what is not done
to-day is done to-morrow, and there is leisure for everything. In
England this time, it was indeed wonderful; but I must describe to you
when we meet each concert there, and each bramble-bush here.
Now, tell me what you are doing, and _he_, and all of you. It is high
time that Sebastian[77] should write me a letter. Read him these lines
from his uncle (no other part of the letter; he ought to think it
contained something worth reading), and do really make him write to me.
But I stipulate beforehand, that none of you are to read his letter, or
he would be on ceremony, and write in a fine style, or even write first
a rough copy.
Farewell, dear Sister; may we soon meet again. Do not forget the piece
for the organ, and still less its author; forget, however, the stupidity
of this letter, and that I am such a lazy correspondent.--Your
FELIX.
TO FANNY HENSEL, BERLIN.
Soden, August 15th, 1844.
Look again in the music shelves, in the compartment where there is a
great deal of loose music lying; among it you will find an open red
portfolio, which contains a quantity of my unbound manuscript
music--songs, pianoforte pieces, printed and unprinted; there you will
positively find the organ piece in A major. It is just possible that I
may in so far be mistaken; that it is in a _bound_ music-book which lies
in “_my_ compartment,” and in which many similar pieces are bound
together. I found the piece, however, in one of the two last winter,
and _stans pede in uno_ (Sebastian will explain this) looked through it,
marvelled at the odious middle part, and also at the charming
commencement (between ourselves, all from modesty). Now, pray search
diligently, and send it off to Soden as soon as you find it. I shall
laugh heartily if, by describing to you at the distance of Soden where
the piece is, you find it. I must tease you about this for the rest of
my life.
I am going to make an expedition on foot to Wiesbaden to-morrow, to
visit Uncle Joseph; and the day after to Hamburg, also on foot, to
attend Döhler’s concert. Prume is to call for me, and we are to go
together. I heard Döhler and Piatti in their last concert in London, and
clapped and shouted for them; and now I mean to do the same at Hamburg,
which will be diverting enough. The day before yesterday I was at
Eppstein, where there was a new organ and a church festival, and where
the Vocal Associations of Frankfort, Wiesbaden, and Mayence offered to
sing, and were present; but a letter came from the Amtmann in Königstein
forbidding them to sing, so they set off, and went to Hofheim, (do you
know the white chapel, which is visible in the whole country round? Paul
will tell you about it,) and there they sang. Towards evening, as I was
driving quietly with the ladies and all the children on the high-road
through Hofheim, we saw heads innumerable peeping out of the windows of
the inn,--all, I suspect, more or less tipsy,--shouting out loud
_vivats_ to me. The ladies wished to stop there to have some coffee, but
I opposed this strongly, so we ate pound-cake in the carriage.
But I must now tell you of my works; there is little enough to say about
them as yet. With the exception of five great organ pieces, and three
little songs, nothing is finished; the symphony makes but slow progress;
I have resumed a Psalm. If I could only continue to live during half a
year as I have done here for a fortnight past, what might I not
accomplish? But the regulation and direction of so many concerts, and
attending others, is no joke, and nothing is gained by it. I feel always
at home among cows and pigs, and like best to be with my equals,--the
one is the result of the other, you will say; but to let bad jokes
alone, I am not a little pleased with your new songs. Would that I could
hear them forthwith! But it will certainly be September before we see
each other again, as Madame Bunsen has written that she has been charged
to inform me the King does not expect me back in Berlin till the end of
September. We have had for some days past such abominable weather, that
this is the first day I have been able to cross the threshold since I
left Eppstein. My letter, therefore, is not so cheerful as you could
desire; but I cannot help it, for the Altkönig looks too stern and
gloomy. I must describe to you my journey back from Zweibrücken. My
landlord drove me the first stage in his carriage; there the Landrath
von Pirmaseus received us with a breakfast, and very fine wine, (this
was at eight o’clock in the morning,) and drove us a stage further in
his carriage, to a grand old castle in the Vosges, where we dined, and
ascended a hill in the afternoon. Cannons were fired there to show the
echo, and champagne drunk, and at every fresh toast the cannons were
discharged. He then drove us another stage, where the proprietor of St.
Johann took us under his charge, and gave us quarters for the night, and
good wine; and next morning came another Zweibrückner with his carriage,
and after drinking a little more good wine, we drove on to Deidesheim,
where Herr Buhl was waiting to receive us in his vaults; but who and
what Herr Buhl and his vaults are, it is quite impossible for me to
describe to you,--you must come and taste for yourself, I mean the
Forster of 1842, which he fabricates. The cellars were lighted up, and
there lay all the valuable hogsheads; and the rooms above these cellars
were as elegant as possible, adorned with paintings by Spasimo, and the
great Roberts, and Winterhalter’s ‘Decameron;’ and a fine new grand
pianoforte, by Streicher; and a pretty woman, who in autumn selects the
particular grapes in the bunches to be used in making the wine,
which--but excuse the rest. Still, those who have not paid a visit to
Herr Buhl (or to his brother-in-law, Herr Jordan), do not know what
Forster is here below. They insisted on our dining with them, though we
ought not to have done so, being expected to dinner at Dürkheim; still,
we dined all the same (Richard Boeckh will fully confirm all this, for
he was with us the whole time), and when dinner was over, Herr Buhl
drove us in his phaeton to Durkheim (three-quarters of a German mile) in
twenty minutes, so that we might not arrive too late for dinner; and in
Dürkheim we found half the musical festival again assembled, and
wreaths, and inscriptions, and ripe grapes; only we could drink no more
wine after that of Herr Buhl!
[Illustration: musical notation]
This is the national song of the Palatinate, called “Der Jäger aus
Kurpfalz.” It is sung the whole live-long day, blown on horns by
postilions, played as a serenade by regimental bands, and used as a
march; and, if a native of the Palatinate comes to see you, and you wish
to give him pleasure, you must play it to him; but with _abandon_, and
with great expression,--that is, jovially.
Such was my journey back from the Palatinate; and if you find this
description somewhat inebriated, I have certainly hit on the right key,
for, from nine o’clock in the morning, we were never really quite
steady, though I can assure you that until the evening, I invariably
displayed great dignity and propriety. (I refer you to Richard Boeckh.)
After the performance of “St. Paul,” he suddenly and unexpectedly
emerged from among the public, and you may imagine with what joy I
recognized my _Boccia_ comrade from the Leipziger Strasse, No. 3,[78]
among all the strange faces; and, to use an expression of the
Palatinate, I held him fast. As to the performances themselves,--now, I
must of course resume my usual sober style, for the other forms too
great a contrast to my _métier_,--but no! I think I must continue my
tipsy tone, and tell you that amid a great many deficiencies, we had the
best St. Paul and Druid Priest there whom I have yet met with in
Germany, namely, a Herr Oberhofer, a singer from Carlsruhe, who was
formerly in the capital. I do not know what he may be on the stage, but
it is impossible for any one to sing, or to deliver the music which I
heard better, with more intelligence, or more impressively, than he did.
He made the third in our merry return journey. How the Landrath
Pirmaseus was thrown into a brook, how Herr Sternfeld used a sausage to
conduct the orchestra, and how, in the first part of the oratorio, the
player of the kettle-drum beat it in two, and his remark on the subject,
when sitting in the street with the others, at half-past two o’clock in
the morning, drinking punch,--all this you must hear from my own lips.
Keep the whole of this letter strictly private from Sebastian; but thank
him repeatedly from me for his nice letter. Tell him that I care very
little about his No. 1, and that he ought not to be in any hurry to come
to _Untersecunda_. When all number _ones_, and classes, and
examinations, come to an end, and when no man living either asks for or
gives testimonials, then learning will first begin in good earnest, and
all our energies will be called forth, and yet we shall obtain no red
certificates; and that would indeed be delightful, and that would indeed
be life itself. And thus it is that I care so little about No. 1 of
_Untertertia_, or for No. 1 of the Order of the Red Eagle, or for all
the other numbers in the world. Or, if this be too philosophical for
you, or too unphilosophical, then keep it from him also; but it forms a
part of my creed. May we have a pleasant, happy, speedy meeting!--Your
FELIX.
TO PROFESSOR VERHULST, THE HAGUE.
Berlin, November 17th, 1844.
Sir,
Pray accept my thanks for your kind letter, and the accompanying parcel,
with its rich and valuable contents.
If you are like me, you can hear nothing more welcome about your works,
than when you are told that you have made progress in them; and in those
you have now sent me, this is very manifest throughout them all. They
are almost in every respect masterly and defined, and devoid of all that
is false or incongruous, in individual passages; and when taken as a
whole, if one piece appears more finished or more sympathetic than
another, what is so fine in Art is precisely, that it gives no mastery
so entire as to _rise superior_ to this; and one of the secrets of
honest assiduous work is, that what is less successful does not give
rise to despair, and what is more successful does not give rise to
arrogance; and thus others may get a just insight into the workshop of
the soul of an artist. Such a survey of your present production you have
enabled me to make, by the valuable packet you have sent me. A
succession of many works, displays decidedly what one solitary work
cannot do, that you have won for yourself a higher and loftier position
by the cultivation of your talents, which rejoices me much, and for
which I owe you my sincere and heartfelt thanks.
May your praiseworthy endeavours to diffuse the knowledge of songs in
your mother-tongue prove successful, and meet with that grateful
acknowledgment which they so well deserve! I know of no more noble aim
that any one could propose to himself, than to give music to his own
language and to his own country, as you have done, and still design to
do. These works are a fine commencement for such a purpose; but, that
their tones may not die away unheard by your fellow-countrymen, many,
many more must yet follow, and with ever-increasing progress. Vocation
and endowments are your own. So, may Heaven grant you also health and
steady perseverance, and a happy life!
This is the wish of your devoted
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
_From Minister Eichhorn,[79] to Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, at
Frankfurt-am-Main._
Berlin, March 2nd, 1845.
Sir,
You may remember that I made a report to his Majesty, some years since,
on proposals which had been suggested for the establishment of a
Conservatorium here; his Majesty, however, was pleased to declare that
the establishment of such a Conservatorium was not at present in
accordance with his Majesty’s views. The affair has consequently
remained since that time in abeyance. The absolute necessity of a reform
in the Royal Academy of Arts seems daily to be more urgent, it therefore
becomes a duty to obtain as clear a view as possible of the measures to
be pursued, and to settle the preliminary arrangements for the best mode
of fulfilling this design. The musical section of the Academy, which
cannot be continued under its present regulations, must form one of the
most essential points in this reform. As, however, in accordance with
the good pleasure of his Majesty, the eventual enlargement of this
section to a real Conservatorium is not at present to take place, it
seems most advisable not to lose sight of the principle which forms the
basis of the present section, and to direct every effort to secure its
most perfect development. This principle assumes that the chief object
of the musical section should be especially to form a school for
_musical composition_. For this purpose, it is, in my opinion, above all
expedient that a master should stand at the head of such a section who,
by his own energetic, creative powers, may become a guiding star for
others, and thus be enabled to exercise a genuine and stimulating
influence; possessing also the ability to examine critically the
productions of the scholars, and by his zealous co-operation to guide
them on the right path, in the very same way that in the plastic arts,
the master of the _atelier_ stands in relation to his scholars.
Instruction in the theory and history of music might be shared by other
teachers. Steps should besides be taken, by a closer connection with
other institutes, or by any other suitable means, to endeavour to form a
limited choir and orchestra, which might furnish an opportunity for the
performance of classical _chefs-d’œuvre_, as well as of the works of
the scholars, and likewise for practice in conducting,--an arrangement
which, in the event of an urgent and manifest necessity for such a
thing, might perhaps at some future day lead to a real Conservatorium.
You will, Sir, earn my best thanks by being so good as to transmit to me
your sentiments on these suggestions, and more especially if, in case
you agree to these proposals in their general outline, you could also
assure me that you are eventually disposed yourself to undertake the
direction and the situation of teacher of composition, in the said
musical section. Should this latter proposal, however, not be in
conformity with your plans in life, may I request you to name the person
among our composers here or elsewhere who, according to your competent
judgment, is best suited to superintend with success the situation in
question, as it seems to me very desirable to discuss any further
measures that may be necessary with the director selected for that
section.--Accept, Sir, etc.,
EICHHORN.
TO MINISTER EICHHORN, BERLIN.
Frankfurt-am-M., March 6th, 1845.