London, April 27th, 1832.
I wish I could only describe how happy I feel to be here once more;
how much I like everything, and how gratified I am by the kindness
of old friends; but as it is all going on at this moment, I must be
brief for to-day.
I have also a number of people to seek out whom I have not yet
seen, whilst I have been living with Klingemann, Rosen, and
Moscheles, in as close intimacy as if we had never been parted.
They form the nucleus of my present sojourn; we see each other
every day; it is such a pleasure to me to be once more with good,
earnest men, and true friends, with whom I do not require to be on
my guard, nor to study them either. Moscheles and his wife show me
a degree of touching kindness, which I value the more as my regard
for them increases; and then the feeling of restored health, as if
I lived afresh, and had come anew into this world--all these are
combined.[33]
[33] Felix Mendelssohn had an attack of cholera during the last
weeks of his stay in Paris.
May 11th.
I cannot describe to you the happiness of these first weeks here.
As from time to time every evil seems to accumulate, as it did
during my winter in Paris, where I lost some of my most beloved
friends, and never felt at home, and at last became very ill; so
the reverse sometimes occurs, and thus it is in this charming
country, where I am once more amongst friends, and am well, and
among well-wishers, and enjoy in the fullest measure the sensation
of returning health. Moreover it is warm, the lilacs are in bloom,
and music is going on: only imagine how pleasant all this is!
I must really describe one happy morning last week: of all the
flattering demonstrations I have hitherto received, it is the one
which has most touched and affected me, and perhaps the only one
which I shall always recall with fresh pleasure. There was a
rehearsal last Saturday at the Philharmonic, where however nothing
of mine was given, my overture not being yet written out. After
"Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony," during which I was in a box, I
wished to go into the room to talk to some old friends; scarcely,
however, had I gone down below, when one of the orchestra called
out, "There is Mendelssohn!" on which they all began shouting, and
clapping their hands to such a degree, that for a time I really did
not know what to do; and when this was over, another called out
"Welcome to him!" on which the same uproar recommenced, and I was
obliged to cross the room, and to clamber into the orchestra and
return thanks.
Never can I forget it, for it was more precious to me than any
distinction, as it showed me that the _musicians_ loved me, and
rejoiced at my coming, and I cannot tell you what a glad feeling
this was.
May 18th.
Dear Father,
I have received your letter of the 9th; God grant that Zelter may
by this time be safe, and out of danger! You say indeed that he
already is so, but I shall anxiously expect your next letter, to
see the news of his recovery confirmed. I have dreaded this ever
since Goethe's death, but when it actually occurs, it is a very
different thing. May Heaven avert it!
Pray tell me also what your mean by saying "there is no doubt that
Zelter both wishes, and requires, to have you with him, because, at
all events for the present, it is quite impossible for him to carry
on the Academy, whence it is evident that if you do not undertake
it, another must." Has Zelter expressed this wish to you, or do you
only imagine that he entertains it? If the former were the case, I
would instantly, on receiving your reply, write to Zelter, and
offer him every service in my power, of every kind, and try to
relieve him from all his labours, for as long a period as he
desired; and this it certainly would be my duty to do.
I intended to have written to Lichtenstein before my return about
the proposal formerly made to me,[34] but of course I have given up
all thoughts of doing so at present; for on no account would I
assume that Zelter could not resume his duties, and even in that
event, I could not reconcile myself to discuss the matter with any
one but himself; every other mode of proceeding I should consider
unfair towards him. If however he requires my services, I am ready,
and shall rejoice if I can be of any use to him, but still more so,
if he does not want me, and is entirely recovered. I beg you will
write me a few words on this subject.
[34] In reference to a situation in the Singacademie.
I must now inform you of my plans and engagements till I leave
this. Yesterday I finished the "Rondeau brillant," and I am to play
it this day week at Mori's evening concert. The day after I
rehearse my Munich Concerto at the Philharmonic, and play it on
Monday the 28th at their concert; on the 1st of June Moscheles'
concert, where, with him, I play a Concerto of Mozart's for two
pianos, and conduct my two overtures, "The Hebrides" and "The
Midsummer Night's Dream." Finally, the last Philharmonic is on the
11th, where I am to conduct some piece.
I must finish the arrangement for Cramer, and some "Lieder" for the
piano, also some songs with English words, besides some German ones
for myself, for after all it is spring, and the lilacs are in
bloom. Last Monday "The Hebrides" was given for the first time in
the Philharmonic; it went admirably, and sounded very quaint among
a variety of Rossini pieces. The audience received both me and my
work with extreme kindness. This evening is Mr. Vaughan's concert;
but I am sure you must be quite sick of hearing of so many
concerts, so I conclude.
Norwood, Surrey, May 25th.
These are hard times, and many are laid low![35] May it please God
to preserve you all to me, and to grant us a joyful meeting! You
will receive this letter from the same villa whence I wrote to you
three years ago last November, just before my return.
[35] He had received the news of Zelter's death.
I have now come out here for a few days to rest, and to collect my
thoughts, just as I did at that time, on account of my health. All
is unchanged here; my room is precisely the same; even the music in
the old cupboard stands exactly in the same spot; the people are
quite as considerate, and quiet, and attentive as formerly, and the
three years have passed over both them and their house, as
peacefully as if half the world had not been uprooted during that
period.
It is pleasant to see; the only difference is, that we have now gay
spring, and apple-blossoms, and lilacs, and all kinds of flowers,
whereas at that time we had autumn, with its fogs and blazing
fires; but how much is now gone for ever, that we then still had;
this gives much food for thought. Just as at that time I wrote to
you saying little, save "farewell till we meet;" so must it be
to-day also. It will indeed be a graver meeting, and I bring no
"Liederspiel" with me composed in this room, as the former one was,
but God grant I may only find you all well.
You write, dear Fanny, that I ought especially to hasten my return,
in order if possible to secure the situation in the Academy; but
this I do not choose to do. I shall return as soon as I can,
because my father writes that he wishes me to do so; I therefore
intend to set off in about a fortnight, but solely for _that_
reason; the other motive would rather tend to detain me here,
indeed, if any motive could do so; for I will in no manner solicit
the situation.
When I reminded my father formerly of the proposal of the Director,
the reason which he then advanced against it, seemed to me
perfectly just; he said that he regarded this place rather as a
sinecure for more advanced years, "when the Academy might be
resorted to as a harbour of refuge." For the next few years I
aspire as little to _this_ as to any other situation; my purpose is
to live by the fruits of my labours, just as I do here, and my
resolve is to be independent. Considering the peculiar position of
the Academy, the small salary they give, and the great influence
they might exercise, the place of Director seems to me only an
honourable post, which I have no desire to _sue_ for. If they were
to offer it to me, I would accept it, because I promised formerly
to do so; but only for a settled time and on certain conditions;
and if they do not intend to offer it, then my presence can be of
no possible use. I do not certainly require to convince them of my
capability for the office, and I neither will, nor can, intrigue.
Besides, for the reasons I mentioned in a previous letter, I cannot
leave England till after the 11th, and the affair will no doubt be
decided before that time.
I beg that no step of any kind may be taken on my behalf, except
_that_ which my father mentioned concerning my immediate return;
but nothing in the smallest degree approaching to solicitation; and
when they do make their choice, I only hope that they may find a
man who will perform his duties with as much zeal as old Zelter.
I received the intelligence in the morning just as I was going to
write to him; then came a rehearsal of my new piece for the piano,
with its wild gaiety, and when the musicians were applauding and
complimenting me, I could not help feeling strongly, that I was
indeed in a foreign land. I then came here, where I found both men
and places unchanged; but Hauser unexpectedly arrived, and we fell
into each other's arms, and recalled the happy days we had enjoyed
together in South Germany the previous autumn, and all that has
passed away for ever, during the last six months. Your mournful
news was always present to me in its sad reality--so this is the
manner in which I have spent the last few days here. Forgive me for
not being able to write properly to-day. I go to town this evening
to play, and also to-morrow, Sunday, and Monday.
I have now a favour to ask of you, dear Father, in reference to the
cantatas of Sebastian Bach, which Zelter possessed. If you can
possibly prevent their being disposed of before my return, pray do
so, for I am most anxious at any price to see the entire collection
before it is dispersed.
I might have told you of many agreeable things that have occurred
to me during the last few weeks, for every day brings me fresh
proofs that the people like me, and are glad to associate with me;
which is gratifying, and makes my life here easy and pleasant; but
to-day I really cannot. Perhaps in my next letter my spirits may be
sufficiently restored, to return to my usual narrative style.
Many remembrances from the Moscheles; they are excellent people,
and after so long an interval, it is most cheering once more to
meet an artist, who is not a victim to envy, jealousy, or miserable
egotism. He makes continued and steady progress in his art.
The warm sun is shining out-of-doors, so I shall now go down into
the garden, to perform some gymnastics there, and to smell the
lilacs; this will show you that I am well.
London, June 1st.
On the day that I received the news of Zelter's death, I thought
that I should have had a serious illness, and indeed during the
whole of the ensuing week I could not shake off this feeling. My
manifold engagements however have now diverted my thoughts, and
brought me to myself, or rather out of myself. I am well again, and
very busy.
First of all I must thank you, dear Father, for your kind letter.
It is in a great measure already answered by my previous one, but I
will now repeat why I decline sending any application to the
committee.
In the first place, I quite agree with your former opinion, that
this situation in the Academy is not desirable at the outset of my
career; indeed I could only accept it for a certain time, and under
particular conditions, and even then, solely to perform my
previous promise. If I solicit it, I am bound to accept the place,
as they choose to give it, and to comply with their conditions as
to salary, duties, etc., though I do not as yet even know what
these are.
In the second place, the reason they gave you why I should write,
seems to me neither a true nor a straightforward one. They say they
wish to be certain I will accept of it, and that on this account I
must enroll myself among the candidates; but they _offered_ it to
me three years ago, and Lichtenstein said they did so to ascertain
if I would take it, and begged me to give a distinct answer on this
point; at that time I said _yes_, that I was willing to carry it
on, along with Rungenhagen. I am not sure that I should think the
same now; but as I said so then, I can no longer draw back, and
must keep my word. It is not necessary to repeat my assent, for as
I once gave it, so it must remain; still less can I do so when I
should have to _offer_ myself to them for the post they once
_offered to me_. If they were disposed to adhere to their former
offer, they would not require me to take a step which they took
themselves three years ago; on the contrary, they would remember
the assent I then gave, for they must know that I am incapable of
breaking such a promise.
A confirmation of my former promise is therefore quite unnecessary,
and if they intend to appoint another to the situation, my letter
would not prevent their doing so. I must further refer to my letter
from Paris, in which I told you that I wished to return to Berlin
in the spring, as it was the only city in Germany with which I was
still unacquainted.
This is my well-weighed purpose; I do not know how I shall get on
in Berlin, or whether I shall be able to remain there,--that is,
whether I shall be able to enjoy the same facilities for work, and
progress, that are offered to me in other places. The only house
that I know in Berlin is our own, and I feel certain I shall be
quite happy there; but I must also be in a position to be actively
employed, and this I shall discover when I return. I hope that all
will come to pass as I wish, for of course the spot where _you_
live must be always dearest to me; but till I know this to a
certainty I do not wish to fetter myself by any situation.
I conclude, because I have a vast deal to do to enable me to set
off after the next Philharmonic. I must publish several pieces
before I go; I receive numbers of commissions on all sides, and
some so gratifying that I exceedingly regret not being able to set
to work at once.
Among others, I this morning got a note from a publisher, who
wishes me to give him the score of two grand pieces of sacred
music, for morning and evening service; you may imagine how much I
am pleased with this proposal, and immediately on my arrival in the
Leipziger Strasse I intend to begin them.
"The Hebrides" I mean to reserve for a time for myself, before
arranging it as a duet; but my new rondo is in hand, and I must
finish those everlasting "Lieder" for the piano, as well as
various other arrangements, and probably the Concerto. I played it
last Monday in the Philharmonic, and I think I never in my life had
such success. The audience were crazy with delight, and declared it
was my best work.
I am now going to Moscheles' concert, to conduct there, and to play
Mozart's Concerto, in which I have inserted two long cadences for
each of us.