Leipzig, October 4th, 1837.

Dearest Mother,

It ought to have been my first occupation to write to you as soon after the busy time of the last few weeks as I had some leisure, to thank you for so many loving letters. I wished also to let you know of our safe arrival here, and yet two days have elapsed without the possibility of doing so. I seize the early morning for this purpose, or people will again come, one succeeding another till the post hour is passed, which happened yesterday and the day before. I cannot at this time attempt to describe the Birmingham Musical Festival; it would require many sheets to do so, and whole evenings when we are once more together even cursorily to mention all the remarkable things crowded into those days.[31] One thing, however, I must tell you, because I know it will give you pleasure, which is, that I never had such brilliant success, and can never have any more unequivocal than at this festival. The applause and shouts at the least glimpse of me were incessant, and sometimes really made me laugh; for instance, they prevented my being able for long to sit down to the instrument to play a pianoforte concerto; and what is better than all this applause, and a sure proof of my success, were the offers made to me on all sides, and of a very different tenor this time from what they ever were before.

I may well say that I now see, beyond doubt, that all this is only bestowed on me because in the course of my work, I do not in the least concern myself as to what people wish, and praise and pay for, but solely as to what I consider good, so I shall now less than ever allow myself to be turned aside from my own path. I therefore peculiarly rejoice in my success, and I feel more confident than ever, that not the smallest effort shall be made by me to ensure success, nor indeed ever has been made. I had besides a very striking proof of the value of all such things, in the manner in which Neukomm was on this occasion received in Birmingham. You know how highly they honoured, and really overvalued him formerly, and how much all his works were prized and sought after here, so that the musicians used to call him the king of Brummagem;[32] whereas on this occasion they neglected him shamefully, giving only one short composition of his the first morning (the worst of all), and the public receiving him without the slightest attention; this is really disgraceful in those men who, three years ago, knew nothing better or higher than Neukomm’s music. The only thing he can be reproached with is, that three years since he wrote an oratorio for the Musical Festival, where effect was chiefly studied. The huge organ, the choruses, the solo instruments, all were introduced on purpose to please the audience, and people soon find this out, and it never answers; but that they should treat him with such ingratitude in return, is a fresh proof of how little their favour is to be relied on, and what the fruits of it are when sought after.

I found him, as usual, most amiable and as kind as ever, and may well take example from him in a hundred things. I never met with any one who combined greater integrity, with calmness and refinement, and he is indeed a steady, true friend.

I send you a complete programme of the Musical Festival. Imagine such a mass of music! and besides this prodigious pile, the various acquaintances who came flocking thither at that time; a man must be as cold-blooded as a fish to stand all this. Immediately after I had played the last chord on the splendid organ, I hurried off to the Liverpool mail, and travelled six days and five nights in succession, till I arrived in Frankfort to rejoin my family. The mail goes to London in ten hours and a half, exactly the same distance as between this and Berlin; I calculated that on my journey, and envied the English on this account. I arrived in London towards midnight, where I was received by Klingemann, and we went together to the Committee of the Sacred Harmonic Society, who formally presented to me a large solid silver box, with an inscription. At half-past twelve o’clock I was again in the mail, and at Dover next morning at nine, when there was no time even for breakfast, as I was obliged to go off directly to the small boat which conveyed us to the steamboat, for being low water it could not remain in the harbour, so I was already sea-sick when I reached the ship, had a miserable passage, and instead of arriving at Calais in three hours, we were five hours before landing at Boulogne, and just so much further from Frankfort. I went to the HÔtel Meurice, where I made myself as comfortable as I could, and set off at nine at night in the diligence to Lille. This is the moment (however furious Dirichlet may be) to impress on you, that French and Belgian diligences, with their glass windows, on a paved chaussÉe, with their three clumsy horses in front, whose tails are tied up, and who do not go forwards but round and round, are the most utterly detestable means of being expedited in the whole world, and that a German Schnellpost is a hundred times pleasanter, quicker, and better than these utterly detestable, etc., vide supra. The September days were being celebrated all over Belgium, and trees of liberty erected in the squares in front of the town-halls. I arrived at Cologne at ten o’clock in the morning; a steamboat was to sail at eleven, and to go on through the night, so I took my place in it, rejoicing to be able to lie down full length on this the fifth night, and free from the rattle of the pavement. I fell asleep about nine, and did not wake till two in the morning, when I perceived that the steam-boat was not moving, and in answer to my questions I was told, that the fog was so thick (as on the previous day) that it would be impossible to set off again at all events before six o’clock the same evening, and we should not arrive in Mayence till six at night. The steamer was lying-to quite close to Horchheim, so I hired two sailors to go with me to carry my things; I showed them the old familiar footpath by the side of the Rhine, got to Coblenz at three o’clock in the morning, took post-horses, and was at Frankfort on Wednesday afternoon at half-past three o’clock. I found them all well, and we have since made out our journey famously, from Thursday afternoon till Sunday at two o’clock, when we arrived here.

The first subscription concert began at six o’clock the same evening. I directed the “Jubilee” overture and the C minor symphony, but the trombones and drums were so noisy, that, at the end of the concert, I own I felt rather caput. These were fourteen of the most crowded days any one could imagine; but as I lived so entirely for enjoyment and pleasure the whole of last summer, I am glad, just before my return here, to have had such a busy time, and one so important for my vocation. It is quite too lovely here, and every hour of my new domestic life is like a festival; whereas in England, notwithstanding all its honours and pleasures, I had not one single moment of real heartfelt enjoyment; but now every day brings only a succession of joy and happiness, and I once more know what it is to prize life. Have I not entered into as many minute details about myself, as if I were some sickly potentate, dear Mother?—Your

Felix.