Brahms at Hanover—Hans von BÜlow—Robert and Clara Schumann in Hanover—Schumann's illness—Brahms in DÜsseldorf—Variations on Schumann's theme in F sharp minor—B major Trio—First public performance in New York—First attempt at symphony. With the opening of the year 1854, Brahms may be said to have entered upon the first chapter of his new life. The transition stage of his career had been defined with unusual sharpness of outline. The eventful journey had been as a bridge by which he had passed from youth to manhood. Behind it were the dark years of lonely effort with issue still untried, the gathering up of strength and treasure but dimly recognised by the worker, labouring under a thick haze of obscurity; in front lay, straight and clear, the pathway of endeavour towards a fixed goal, cheered by companionship and illumined by the consciousness of a measure of success already won. Having tranquillized his mind and shaken off the effects of months of excitement by nearly a fortnight's intercourse with his family and friends at Hamburg, Johannes was impatient to get quietly to work again, all the more since new and forcible motives—the sense of his responsibility to Schumann, and the desire to become as far as possible worthy of his encomiums—added their influence to the energy of his nature, and helped to spur him on to the resolve to outdo even his utmost. Bringing his stay in Hamburg to a close with the opening of the New Year, he left on January 3 or 4 for Hanover, where he found a new introduction awaiting his arrival. 'I have become tolerably well acquainted with Robert Schumann's young prophet Brahms. He arrived two days ago, and is always with us. A very lovable, frank nature, and a talent that really has something God-given about it.' BÜlow took an early opportunity of carrying out Liszt's desire, hinted at in the letter of December 16. He played the first movement of the C major Sonata on March 1 at Frau Peroni-Glasbrenner's concert in Hamburg, and was thus the first artist—always excepting the composer himself—to perform a work of Brahms in public. That his attitude towards our composer did not, during the succeeding twenty years, correspond with this promising beginning, as will be seen hereafter, may be chiefly attributed to the disappointment with which the disciples of the New-German school gradually realized that their artistic aims were at variance with the mature convictions of Joachim, whom they reckoned for a while as one of themselves, and of Brahms, whose allegiance they had hoped to secure. Johannes, established in a lodging of his own at Hanover, began the routine of work, diversified by intimate association with a few chosen friends, which he preferred to the end of his life, and was soon absorbed in the composition of his B major Pianoforte Trio. The intimacy between Joachim and himself was now widened to a triple alliance by the addition of Grimm, and lively discussions were carried on in Joachim's rooms late into the night by the three friends. The young violinist had not been a smoker up to this time, but his companions used to envelop him and themselves in such thick clouds of tobacco, that one night, unable any longer to endure his sufferings passively, he suddenly declared his surrender, and began to puff away with the others, to Brahms' and Grimm's great delight. Schumann had accepted an invitation from Hille, the 'Now, where is Johannes? Is he with you? If so, greet him. Is he flying high—or only amongst flowers? Is he setting drums and trumpets to work yet? He must call to mind the beginnings of the Beethoven symphonies; he must try to do something of the same kind. The beginning is the main point; when one has begun, the end seems to come of itself.... 'I hope also to see, or better still to hear, something new of yours soon. You, too, should remember the above-named symphony beginnings, but not before Henry and Demetrius. 'I always get into a good humour when I write to you. You are a kind of physician for me. 'Adieu. 'Your R. Schu.' Some idea of the happy week passed by the three friends in the constant society of their 'master' may be gathered from Moser's charming description in his Life of Joachim. Schumann could not see enough of his beloved young favourites, Joachim and Brahms, and readily extended his cordiality to their companion Grimm. The third subscription concert was a veritable Schumann festival. Joachim conducted the master's fourth symphony, 'evidently with great delight and love,' says the Hanover Courier, as well as Beethoven's Pianoforte Concerto in E flat, played by Frau Schumann, and performed Schumann's lately-written Violin Fantasia dedicated to him and first played at DÜsseldorf. There were plenty of opportunities for private meetings in Joachim's rooms, in the railway restaurant, and elsewhere, that were unshadowed by any presentiment of an impending catastrophe; for Schumann was unusually bright and communicative, 'What a high festival we have had through the Schumanns' visit,' writes Brahms, a few days after their departure, to Dietrich in DÜsseldorf. 'Everything has seemed alive since. Greet the great ones from me many times.' A week after their return Schumann wrote: 'February 6, 1854. 'Dear Joachim, 'We have been at home eight days, and have not yet sent a word to you and your companions. I have, however, frequently written to you with invisible ink.... We have often thought of the past days; may others like them come quickly! The kind royal family, the excellent orchestra, and the two young dÆmons moving amid the scenes—we shall not soon forget it. 'The cigars are very much to my liking. It seems they were a handshake from Brahms, and, as usual, a very substantial and agreeable one. 'Write to me soon—in words and in tones! 'R. Schu.' It is sad to realize that the very day after sending this letter, so free from signs of depression, so bright and healthy in tone, Schumann wrote down his last musical thought, the now well-known Theme in E flat; and that three weeks later he was overtaken by the crisis of his terrible malady. Alarming symptoms declared themselves as the month went on; the master became a prey to attacks of mental agony, and was distressed by illusions, imagining that he constantly heard one or more notes from the impression of which he was unable to rid himself. In the intervals of relief from his sufferings he continued to compose, and wrote several variations on his theme, which he fancied had been brought to him in the night by the spirits of It would be difficult to describe in exaggerated terms the consternation with which a great part of the musical world, and especially the friends of Schumann's immediate circle, became aware of these overwhelming occurrences. Sorrow for the great master, love for the indulgent friend, alarmed sympathy for the stricken wife, kept the younger of his disciples in a state of restless agitation, which seems to have found its principal relief in the writing of letters of excited inquiry to Dietrich, the only one of their number on the scene of the catastrophe. 'Never in my life has anything so moved and deeply shaken me,' wrote Theodor Kirchner, 'as the dreadful occurrence with our honoured, beloved Schumann.... We should all be terribly lonely without him, and as regards myself, all pleasure in my own endeavours would be gone.' 'Pray send me an exact description of the whole catastrophe as quickly as possible,' so ran Naumann's letter, 'especially if there is any hope of Schumann's complete restoration, how his unhappy wife has borne this cruel stroke of fate, and how you are yourself. I repeat my request for immediate news.' To the friends in Hanover, who had so lately seen Schumann in apparent enjoyment of unwonted health both of body and mind, the tidings, of which they first became informed through a paragraph in the Cologne Gazette, seemed too sudden and tragic to be credible. 'Dear Dietrich—'Joachim dashed off— 'If you have any feeling of friendship for Brahms and me, relieve our anxiety, and write word instantly whether Schumann is really as ill as the paper says, and let us know at once of any change in his condition. It is too grievous to be in uncertainty about the life of someone to whom we are bound with our best powers. I can scarcely wait for the hour that will bring me tidings of him. I am quite beside myself with dread. 'Write soon. 'Your J. Joachim.' It was impossible, however, to wait for an answer, and no letter could have appeased the desire of the affectionate young musicians to be on the spot; so Brahms, having no fixed duties to detain him, started immediately for DÜsseldorf, and Joachim hoped to follow, if only for a couple of days. On March 3 Johannes sent his report: 'Dearest Joseph, 'Do come on Saturday; it comforts Frau Schumann to see certain dear faces. 'Schumann's condition seems to be improved. The physicians have hope, but no one is allowed to see him. 'I have already been with Frau Schumann. She wept very much, but was very glad to see me and to be able to expect you. 'We expect you on Sunday morning, and Grimm on Wednesday. 'Your 'Johannes.' 'To my great relief,' wrote Dietrich a fortnight later to Naumann, 'Brahms came at once after hearing the dreadful news. Grimm is also here. Joachim was here for two days, and is coming again in a few weeks.' At the end of the letter he adds: 'Brahms has written a quite wonderful trio, and is a man to be taken in every respect as a pattern. With all his depth, he is healthy, fresh, and lively, entirely untouched by modern morbidness.' 'Yesterday and the day before she went through the whole of Schumann's "Faust" music with us. We are with her every day, and it is impossible for me to think of leaving at present.' Frau Schumann found congenial occupation in the summer in writing a set of variations on the theme of her husband's Album-Blatt, Op. 99, No. 1: Musicetc. —which itself refers to the composer's early work, Op. 5, Variations on a theme by Clara Wieck, and a touching memorial of Brahms' efforts to assist in diverting her mind from its burden of sorrow exists in his treatment of the same theme in his Variations for the pianoforte on a theme of Robert Schumann, Op. 9, dedicated to Frau Clara Schumann. This work was begun during the period of Frau Schumann's convalescence after the birth of her seventh child on June 11. Each new variation was brought to her as it was completed. Grimm, who remained at DÜsseldorf during these months in close companionship with Johannes, christened the work 'Trost-Einsamkeit' (Consolation in loneliness), and remembered it as such ever afterwards. It tells plainly enough the story of the young composer's thoughts. It is full of references to Schumann and his wife—notably in the ninth variation, which contains note for note reminiscences of Schumann's Album-Blatt, Op. 99, No. 2, and in the tenth, in which the first four bars of Clara Wieck's original theme Musicetc. are introduced by diminution into the middle voice: Music [Listen] The work is astounding in its evidence of the mastery already achieved by the young composer over the technique of variation form, in which he uses the complicated resources of contrapuntal science with absolute playfulness. For one illustration of this the reader may again be referred to the tenth variation, in which the original bass of Schumann's theme is used as the melody of the upper part and its inversion as the bass part, whilst the original Musicetc. We must resist the temptation to linger over the many interesting details of this noble work, as the aim of our pages is not a technical one; but we may note in passing that, of the sixteen variations which it contains, five are written in keys varying from that of the theme, a circumstance which again brings it into a certain association with Schumann. Johannes had meanwhile, according to custom, sent the completed manuscript of his trio to Marxsen, and had speedily received it back again with his master's critical remarks. These he acknowledged on June 28 in a letter from which the following brief extracts are taken, sending Marxsen, at the same time, a collection of short pieces written at odds and ends of time, which he proposed to call 'Leaves from the Journal of a Musician, published by the Young Kreisler.' 'Let me thank you very much for having vouchsafed such a long letter, such a detailed examination to my trio. I will write about the proposed little alterations when I send you the printed copy. I have allowed the trio to lie in order to accustom myself to them.' Asking Marxsen if he considers the pianoforte pieces worth publishing, he adds as to the proposed title: 'What do you think of it? Doesn't it please you? I must confess I The B major Trio, published in 1854 by Breitkopf and HÄrtel as Op. 8, which remained for many years but little known, has, with its beautiful youthful qualities, long since become dear to those who have yielded their hearts to the spell of Brahms' music. The composer's fertile fancy has betrayed him, in the first allegro, into some episodical writing which somewhat clouds the distinctness of outline, and impedes the listener in his appreciation of the distinguished beauties of the movement, and there are places in the finale where a certain disappointment succeeds to the conviction inspired by the impetuous opening subject; but in wealth of material, in the rare beauty of its principal themes, and in noble sincerity of expression, the trio occupies a distinguished place even amongst the examples of Brahms' maturity. The scherzo with its trio are already masterly both in conception and treatment, and in the adagio we have promise of the deeply impressive slow movements which were moulded in ever-increasing perfection of structure by the composer's ripening genius. That Brahms retained an affection for this child of his young imagination is shown by his having published a revised edition of the work so late in his career as the year 1891. We must confess our preference for the original version, which is consistently representative of the composer as he was when he wrote it. The later one does not appear to us to have solved the difficulty of successfully applying to a work of art the process of grafting, upon the fresh, lovable immaturity of twenty-one, the practised but less mobile experience of fifty-seven. The trio was performed for the first time in public, to Frau Schumann changed her residence to another in DÜsseldorf in the month of July, and immediately afterwards went with one of her young daughters to stay with her mother in Berlin, whither Joachim also proceeded on a visit to some of his own particular friends. Dietrich had quitted DÜsseldorf some months previously to follow prospects of success in Leipzig; Grimm and Brahms remained behind to take charge of any urgent tidings from Endenich. To Johannes was specially entrusted the congenial task of arranging Schumann's books and music in the new dwelling. This was soon accomplished to his satisfaction, as he writes to Dietrich: 'And now I sit there the whole day and study. I have seldom felt so happy as I do now, rummaging in this library.' On July 19, the very day of Frau Schumann's departure, the happy news arrived that a marked improvement had taken place in her husband's health. He had spoken of feeling better, expressed a desire to visit his friend Wasielewsky at Bonn; above all, had picked flowers, and evidently wished them to be sent to his wife, whom he had not mentioned during his illness. News and flowers were instantly despatched to Berlin, and were received with almost overwhelming feelings of hope and longing. 'I cannot describe my feelings,' Frau Schumann writes to Dietrich after informing him of the tidings, 'but I never knew till now how difficult it is to bear a great happiness ... it often seems to me as though I should lose my reason; it is too much, all that I have gone through and that is still before me!' 'Ulm, August 16, 1854. 'Honoured Sir, 'You certainly think that your dear letter did not give me the least pleasure, as I have left it so long unanswered? Ah, the time lately has been so full of excitement that I was obliged to put it off from day to day. Frau Schumann went with a friend on the 10th of this month to Ostend for the benefit of her health. I, after much persuasion, resolved to make a journey through Swabia during her absence. I did not know how greatly I was attached to the Schumanns, how I lived in them; everything seemed barren and empty to me, every day I wished to turn back, and was obliged to travel by rail in order to get quickly to a distance and forget about turning back. It was of no use; I have come as far as Ulm, partly on foot, partly by rail; I am going to return quickly, and would rather wait for Frau Schumann in DÜsseldorf than wander about in the dark. When one has found such divine people as Robert and Clara Schumann, one should stick to them and not leave them, but raise and inspire one's self by them. The dear Schumann continues to improve, as you have read in my letter to my parents. There has been a great deal of gossip about his condition. I consider the best description of him is to be found in some of the works of E. T. A. Hoffmann (Rath Krespel, Serapion, and especially the splendid Kreisler, etc.). He has only stripped off his body too soon.—If you would give me pleasure, let me find a letter from you in Ddf.—is that quite too bold? I will write to you again, and more rationally, from there. I am writing this letter in the waiting-room of the railway-station, which accounts for its having become, probably, very confused.—A thousand hearty greetings to dear Uncle Giesemann, I will write to him also from Ddf.; heartiest greetings also to Frau Blume and your daughter. Remember with affection 'Your Johannes Brahms.' Stopping at Bonn on his return journey to inquire after the patient at Endenich, Brahms obtained permission to Grimm left DÜsseldorf in November for Hanover, and remained there till the following year, when he accepted a post as conductor of a choral society at GÖttingen. Johannes also went north on a visit to his parents, but for a few weeks only. The Schumanns' house had become a second home to him, and his place in the affections of its master and mistress that of a beloved elder son. Almost every particular that had marked the course of his year's acquaintance with them had been of a kind to stir his true, loving, high-strung nature to its depths. Schumann's noble character, his quick affection for the young stranger and unconditional acceptance of his art, the ideal relation which united the great composer with his wife, the distinguished qualities of the gifted woman who found her greatest happiness in consecrating her genius to the service of her romantic love, the terrible blow which had separated the two lives so closely linked, the sadness of the present, the uncertainty of the future—each and all of these things had aroused in the heart of Johannes a tumult of feeling, a poignancy of affection, that allowed him no rest when he was out of immediate touch with the two people who were its object. He could study to his heart's content in Schumann's library, where books and music were unreservedly at his disposal; could be of use to Frau Schumann, who truly valued his sympathy and returned his affection; he was in constant communication with Joachim, and could have as much pleasant society as he cared for. In short, he felt that for the It was in the spring of 1854 that he made the acquaintance of Julius Allgeyer, who, four years his senior, was at the time a student of copper-plate engraving in DÜsseldorf under Josef Keller. 'Brahms,' says Allgeyer in a letter of this date, 'has Schiller's striking profile; his compositions sound different from everything else known to me. He has the bad manners of a frolicsome child and the understanding of a man.' There was much in the circumstances and characters of the two young men to foster an intimacy between them. Allgeyer's youth had, like that of Johannes, been passed in struggle, and he resembled Brahms in his restless hunger after general culture, which he endeavoured to satisfy by constant and varied reading. The composition of Brahms' Ballades for pianoforte, Op. 10, which belongs to this time, has a direct association with Allgeyer, to whom the young musician was indebted for his acquaintance with Herder's 'Stimmen der VÖlker,' the volume containing a translation of the Scotch ballad 'Edward' that inspired the first of the pieces in question. Brahms' memory for such details is well illustrated by his dedication to Allgeyer of the Lieder und Romanzen for two voices, with pianoforte accompaniment, Op. 75, published in 1878, the first number of which is a setting of 'Edward.' Another avowed instance of his partiality for Herder's collection is to be found in a still later work, No. 1 of the three Intermezzi for pianoforte, Op. 117, and it may be surmised that the book contains the secret key to the composer's thoughts during the writing of more than one other of the short pieces for pianoforte designated by the general name of 'Intermezzo' or 'Capriccio.' Brahms and Allgeyer remained intimate, though with intervals of some estrangement—if this be not too strong a term to express a temporary cessation of intercourse without alleged cause—until Brahms' death; and Allgeyer, who was introduced by Johannes to Frau Schumann, came Schumann's desire that his young protÉgÉ should apply his powerful ideal gifts and his skill in the handling of form to the composition of an orchestral work had not been disregarded by Brahms. He had tried his hand at an overture early in the year, and had worked through the spring and summer at a symphony, making his first attempts at instrumentation with the help of Grimm. It could not be otherwise than that the rapid succession of extraordinary events and vivid emotions which had agitated his spirit should prove a strong stimulus to his imagination; and it is not surprising to find that they moved him to the composition of a series of movements, two of which remain amongst the most powerful produced by him, one having been accepted by thousands of mourners all the world over as the most fitting musical expression known to them in the presence of profound grief. The symphony, as such, was never completed, but the work was thrown into the form of a sonata for two pianofortes, of which the first two movements have become known to the world as the first and second of the Pianoforte Concerto in D minor, and the third is immortalized in the 'Behold all Flesh,' the wonderful march movement in three-four time of the German Requiem. Brahms frequently played the sonata in private at this period with Frau Schumann or Grimm. The two sets of Variations on Schumann's theme were published simultaneously, by Brahms' desire, in the autumn, with his Songs, Op. 7, dedicated to Dietrich, and the B major Trio; the variations by Johannes appearing as his Op. 9. The song 'Mondnacht' also appeared this year, without opus number, in a book of 'Album-BlÄtter' published at GÖttingen. The improvement in Schumann's condition went on so steadily that on September 13, the thirty-fifth anniversary of his wife's birthday, he was permitted to receive a letter 'Endenich, Sept. 14, 1854. 'How I rejoiced, beloved Clara, to see your handwriting. High thanks for having written to me on such a day, and that you and the dear children still remember me. Greet and kiss the little ones! Oh, if I could see you and speak to you again, but the way is too far. So much I should like to know; how your life is going on; where you are living and if you still play as gloriously as formerly; if Marie and Elise continue to make progress, if they still sing also—if you still have the Klems pianoforte [a present from Schumann to his wife], where my collection of scores is (the printed ones) and what has become of the manuscripts (such as the Requiem, the SÄnger's Fluch); where our album is, containing autographs of Goethe, Jean Paul, Mozart, Beethoven, Weber, and many letters addressed to you and me.' On the 18th he writes: 'What joyful news you have again sent me ... that Brahms, to whom you will give my kind and admiring greetings, has come to live in DÜsseldorf; what friendship! If you would like to know whose is my favourite name, you will no doubt guess his, the unforgettable one!... If you write to Joachim, greet him. What have Brahms and Joachim been composing? Is the overture to Hamlet published? Has he finished anything else? You write that you are giving your lessons in the pianoforte-room. Who are the present pupils? Who the best? Are you not doing too much, dear Clara?' He goes on to recall the happiness of the journeys made in his wife's company, begs that their double portrait may be sent him, would like some money, in order to be able to A week later, September 26, he says: 'What you write about ... has given me the greatest pleasure. So also about Brahms and Joachim and their compositions. I am surprised that Brahms is working at counterpoint which does not seem like him. I should like to make acquaintance with Joachim's three pieces for pianoforte and viola. I can remember de Laurens' portrait of Brahms, but not the one of me. Thank you for the children's birthday dates. Who are to be sponsors for the little one, and in what church is he to be baptized?...' In October he acknowledges the arrival of Brahms' variations, sent him by his wife: 'Dearest Clara, 'What pleasure you have again given me! Your letter and Julie's, Brahms' variations on the theme which you have varied, the three volumes of Arnim Brentano's Wunherhorn.... I remember Herr Grimm very well, we used to be together with Brahms and Joachim at the railway-station [in Hanover]; greet him and above all FrÄulein Leser. I shall write to Brahms myself....' That this renewal of intercourse with her husband cheered and encouraged Frau Schumann for the performance of her arduous public duties during the autumn season will be readily believed. Under the necessity of a heavily increased weight of responsibility to her young children, she had bound herself to the fulfilment of a long list of concert engagements, which scarcely allowed her an interval of rest. Happily, the reports from Endenich continued favourable. Joachim, writing to Liszt on November 16, says: 'What a happiness it is that Schumann's condition is distinctly improved. I had a letter from him from Endenich lately. He relates some of our common experiences quite clearly, expressing himself in a kind, gentle way as though he had just awakened from a dream. Everything seems new to him, and he would like to participate in what is going on; asks about compositions, about friends; one may certainly hope for the best.' 'The variations of Johannes delighted me at first sight and do so still more on deeper acquaintance. I shall myself write also to Brahms; does his portrait by de Laurens still hang in my study? He is the most attractive and gifted young fellow. I recall with delight the splendid impression he made that first time with his C major Sonata, and afterwards with the F sharp minor Sonata and the Scherzo in E flat minor. Oh, if I could only hear him again! I should like his ballades also.' To Brahms, enclosed in the above: 'Could I but come to you myself, to see you again and to hear your splendid variations, or [to hear them] from my Clara of whose wonderful interpretation Joachim has written to me. How incomparably the whole is rounded off, how one recognises you in the rich brightness of the imagination and again in the profound art, united as I have not yet known them. The theme emerging here and there, but very secretly, then so vehement and tender. The theme then quite vanishing, and at the end, after the fourteenth [variation], so ingeniously written in canon in the second; how splendid is the fifteenth in G flat major, and the last. And I have to thank you, dear Johannes, for all your kindness and goodness to my Clara; she always writes to me about it. She sent me yesterday to my pleasure, as you perhaps know, volumes of my compositions and Jean Paul's Flegeljahre. Now I hope soon to see your handwriting, however great a treasure it is to me, in another form also. The winter is fairly mild. You know the Bonn neighbourhood. I enjoy Beethoven's statue and the beautiful view of the Siebengebirge. We saw each other last in Hanover. Only write soon to 'Your affectionate and appreciative 'R. Schumann.' Brahms' answer speaks for itself: 'Hamburg, 2 December 1854. 'Most beloved Friend, 'How can I describe to you my pleasure at your dear letter! You have already so often made me happy when you have remembered me so affectionately in the letters to 'I expect to return to DÜsseldorf in a few days; I long to be there. 'The overmuch praise which you bestow on my variations fills me with happiness. I have been studying your works industriously since the spring; how much I should like to hear your praise of them also! I have passed this year since springtime at DÜsseldorf; I shall never forget it, I have learned all the time to love you and your glorious wife more and more. 'I have never yet looked forward so cheerfully and confidently, never believed so firmly in a splendid future as now. How I wish it were near, and nearer still the happy time when you will be quite restored to us. 'I cannot then leave you any more; I shall try to earn more and more of your dear friendship. 'Good-bye, and think of me with affection. 'Your warmly venerating Johannes Brahms. 'My parents and your friends here think of you with the greatest veneration and love. The parents, Herr Marxsen, Otten, and AvÉ, particularly beg me to give you their most cordial greetings.' About the middle of the month Schumann wrote again to Johannes: 'Endenich, December 1854. 'Dear Friend, 'If I could but come to you at Christmas! Meanwhile I have received your portrait from my dear wife, your familiar portrait, and I know the place in my room quite well, quite well—under the mirror. I am still refreshing myself with your variations; I should like to hear several of them from you and my Clara; I am not completely master of them; especially the second, the fourth not up to time and the fifth not; but the eighth (and the slower ones) and the ninth—A reminiscence of which Clara wrote to me is probably on p. 14; what is it from? a The andante and scherzo from Brahms' F minor Sonata, Op. 5, were included by Frau Schumann in several of her programmes of the season, and, though received with indifference by the general public, were, on the whole, noticed encouragingly by the press. The Vossische Zeitung of Berlin dismissed the movements as wanting in clearness and simplicity, but the National Zeitung of the same city pronounced that the sonata, associating itself with the school of Schumann, gave evidence of eminent creative power, and a Frankfurt critic wrote: 'Frau Schumann deserves high commendation for introducing Brahms' compositions to the public with her master-hand, and thereby preparing the way for their general acceptance.' Joachim, who was frequently Frau Schumann's artistic colleague during the season, giving concerts with her in various parts of Germany, spent the Christmas festival with his friends in DÜsseldorf, making time on his way thither to call at Bonn to get news of Schumann. To his joy, he was admitted to the first interview with a personal friend allowed to the patient since his residence at Endenich. The impression he derived was reassuring to a certain extent, and there was comfort in the mere fact that he had seen and conversed with Schumann. A touching picture of the little gathering in DÜsseldorf of those who stood first in the affections of the great composer is given in Brahms' next letter to him: 'Most honoured Friend, 'I should like to write a great deal about the Christmas evening, which was made so happy to us by Joachim's news; how he told us about you the whole evening and your wife wept so quietly. We were filled with joyful hope that we may soon be able to see you again. 'You always turn the days which would otherwise be days of mourning for us, into high festivals. On her birthday your wife was allowed to write you the first letter. At Christmas a friend first talked with you, the only one to whom we should not grudge this happiness, but only desire for ourselves to be allowed to succeed him soon. 'On the first day of the festival your wife gave her presents. She will now be writing to tell you about it; how well Marie played your A minor Sonata with Joachim, and Elise the Kinderscenen, and how she delighted me with Jean Paul's complete works. I had not hoped to be able to call them my own for many years. Joachim got the scores of your symphonies, which your wife had already given me. 'I returned here the evening before Christmas; how long the separation from your wife seemed to me! I had so accustomed myself to her inspiring society, I had lived near her so delightfully all the summer and learned to admire and love her so much, that everything seemed flat to me, and I could only long to see her again. What nice things I have brought back with me from Hamburg, however! The score of Gluck's Alcestis (the Italian edition, 1776) from Herr AvÉ, your first dear letter to me and several from your beloved wife. I must thank you most warmly for a pleasant word in your last letter, for the affectionate "thou"; your kind wife also makes me happy now by using the nice, intimate word; it is the highest proof to me of her favour; I will try always to deserve it more. 'I had a great deal to write to you, dearest friend, but it would probably only be a repetition of what your wife is writing, therefore I conclude with the warmest handshake and greeting. Your 'Johannes. 'DÜsseldorf, 30 December, 1854. Frau Schumann, having before her the fatigues of a concert-journey in Holland, allowed herself a brief rest during the early part of January, and was cheered by the most encouraging letters from her husband. He wrote on the 6th: '... I wish also to thank you most particularly, my Clara, for the artist letters and Johannes for the sonata and ballades. 'Robert.' Brahms was permitted to follow Joachim, and paid the master a visit of several hours' duration, in the course of which he played both to and with him. At its close Schumann walked back to Bonn with his dear young friend, and could not make up his mind to part with him. Johannes tore himself away just in time to catch his train, and wrote a few days afterwards: 'Dear honoured Friend, 'I must thank you myself for the great pleasure you give me by the dedication of your splendid concertstÜck. 'I think with joy of the short hours that I was allowed to spend with you, they were so delightful—but passed so quickly. I cannot tell your wife enough about them; it makes me doubly glad that you received me with such friendship and kindness, and that you still think of the hour with so much affection. 'We shall be able to see you thus more and more frequently and pleasantly till we possess you again. 'I have taken the catalogue (chronological), as you wished, to your copyist (Fuchs). 'I expect you would like the original of Jenny Lind's letter. It is probably the handwriting that you want. I need not write out the contents for you. 'We are sending Bargiel's new work, it will give you great pleasure, as it does us; Op. 8 is a great advance upon Op. 9. Both are dedicated to your wife; that is what I should like to do always. I should like to take turns with the names Joachim and Clara Schumann till I had courage to add your name. That, probably, will not soon come to me. 'Now good-bye, dear man, and think sometimes with affection of your 'Johannes. 'DÜsseldorf, in January 1855.' 'Do you remember that you encouraged me last winter to write an overture to "Romeo"? For the rest, I have been trying my hand at a symphony during the past summer, have even instrumented the first movement and composed the second and third.' During the entire winter, the devotion to Frau Schumann, through which Joachim and Brahms were alike eager to express their veneration for the beloved master in his awful trial, was shared between them in the most practical way. Joachim remained her constant artistic companion after her return from Holland, and the success achieved by the two great musicians on the innumerable occasions of their giving concerts together, during this and the following season, was extraordinary and unvarying. Johannes remained at DÜsseldorf to attend to Schumann's little requirements, and to send cheery news of all that was going 'Dear honoured Friend, 'Herewith I send you the things you wished for; a necktie and the Signale. I must be responsible for the first; as your wife is in Berlin, I had to decide. I only hope you will like it, and that it is not too high? 'I also send you the Signale; some of the numbers are missing, we have not been careful enough about them. From this time forward you shall have them regularly. 'I can now already give you the most positive assurance that Herr Arnold has had your proof of the "GesÄnge der FrÜhe." There must be some other reason for his having delayed the publication so long. 'I wonder if the long walk with me did you good? I expect so. With what pleasure I think of the delightful day; I have seldom been so perfectly happy! Your dear wife was very much calmed and pacified by my blissful letter. 'I am entrusted with many greetings to you from all your friends here. I will particularly mention those from your children and FrÄulein Bertha. 'May all go well with you, and may you often think with affection of your 'Johannes. 'DÜsseldorf, in February 1855.' Another letter follows early in March: 'Honoured Master, 'You will have wondered very much that I wrote of an F sharp minor Sonata which was to be sent you with the other things, and none was there. I quite forgot to put it up this morning. I send it you now with the songs and choruses from "Maria Stuart." I think you will like to have them; you have often mentioned them. 'Your wife just writes to me, quite delighted with your 'With warmest greetings, Your 'Johannes Brahms. 'DÜsseldorf, March, 1855.' Of the F sharp minor Sonata, Op. 2, Schumann answers: 'Your second sonata, my dear, has brought me much nearer to you. It was quite new to me; I live in your music, so that I can half play it at sight, one movement after the other. I am thankful for this. The beginning, the pp, the whole movement—there has never been one like it. Andante and the variations and the scherzo following them, quite different from those in the others; and the finale, the sostenuto, the music at the beginning of the second part, the animato and the close—in short, a laurel wreath for the from-elsewhere-coming Johannes. And the songs, the first one; I seemed to know the second; but the third—it has (at the beginning) a melody in which there are many good girls, and the splendid close. The fourth quite original. In the fifth such beautiful music—like the poem. The sixth quite different from the others. The rushing, rustling melody-harmony pleases me.' To Joachim, Schumann writes on March 10: 'Your letter has put me into quite a happy mood. The great gaps in your artistic cultivation, and the so-called violinist's eye and the address; nothing could have amused me more. Then I recalled the Hamlet overture, Henry overture, Lindenrauschen, Abendglocken, Ballade—books for viola and pianoforte—the remarkable pieces which you played with Clara one evening at the hotel in Hanover; Thus the months passed on. At the close of Frau Schumann's concert-season Johannes travelled with her to Brahms' birthday-presents included the manuscript of a romance for the pianoforte composed for him by Frau Schumann, and from the master the score of his overture to 'The Bride of Messina,' both with affectionate inscriptions. The following letter of thanks was the last written by him to Endenich: 'Beloved, Honoured Friend, 'I must send you most heartfelt thanks for having remembered me so affectionately on May 7. How surprised and delighted I was by the beautiful present and the loving words in the book! 'The day was altogether such a delightful one as one does not often experience. Your dear wife understands how to give happiness. You, however, know this better than anyone. 'A portrait of my mother and sister surprised me. In the afternoon Joachim came, we hope for a very long time. 'I heard the overture to "The Bride of Messina" the other day in Hamburg, as you know. How much the deeply-earnest work took hold of me, and after "Manfred"! I was wishing all the time that you were there to hear and see what joy you give by your splendid works. 'I have been longing for some time past to hear especially "Manfred" or "Faust." I hope we shall hear the last, greatest, together some time. 'Only your long silence, which made us uneasy, could have kept me from sending you my thanks sooner; accept now the heartiest thanks for your dear remembrance on May 7, 1855. 'In hearty love and veneration, 'Your Johannes.' |