CHAPTER I.

RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY LIFE IN HANOVER.

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL was born at Hanover on the 16th of March, 1750. She was the eighth child and fourth daughter of Isaac Herschel, by Anna Ilse Moritzen, to whom he was married in August, 1732. The family consisted of ten children, four of whom died in early childhood.

A memorandum in the handwriting of Isaac Herschel, transcribed by his daughter in the original German at the beginning of her Recollections, traces the family back to the early part of the seventeenth century, about which time, it appears that three brothers _Herschel_ left Moravia on account of their religion (which was Protestant), and became possessors of land in Saxony. One of these brothers, Hans, was a brewer at Pirna, a little town two miles from Dresden, and the father of two sons, one of whom, Abraham by name, was born in 1651, was the father of the above-mentioned Isaac, and the grandfather of Caroline Lucretia Herschel. Abraham Herschel was employed in the royal gardens at Dresden, he received commissions from various quarters on account of his taste and skill as a landscape gardener. Of his four children, Eusebius, the eldest, appears to have kept up little or no intercourse with his family after the father’s death in 1718. The second child, Apollonia, married a landed proprietor, Herr von Thümer. Benjamin, the second son, died in his third year; and Isaac, the youngest, was born 14th of January, 1707, and was thus an orphan at the early age of eleven years. His parents wished him to be a gardener like his father, but a passionate love of music led him to take every opportunity of practising on the violin, besides studying music under a hautboy-player in the royal band. When he was about one and twenty he resolved to seek his fortune, and went to Berlin, where the style of hautboy playing was so little to his taste that he soon left it, and went to Potsdam, where he studied for a year under the celebrated Cappell Meister Pabrïch, the means for so doing being supplied by his mother and sister; his brother, as he quaintly remarks, contenting himself with writing him letters in praise of the virtue of economy! In July, 1731, he went to Brunswick, and in August to Hanover, where he at once obtained an engagement as hautboy-player in the band of the Guards, and in the August following he married as above stated.

[Sidenote: 1675-1731. _Early Recollections._]

The family group to which Miss Herschel’s autobiography introduces us consisted of—

1. Sophia Elizabeth, born in 1733. [Afterwards Mrs. Griesbach.]

2. Henry Anton Jacob, born 20th November, 1734.

(4) 3. Frederic William, born 15th November, 1738.

(6) 4. John Alexander, born 13th November, 1745.

(8) 5. Carolina Lucretia, born 16th March, 1750; and

(10) 6. The little Dietrich, born 13th September, 1755.

With the exception of frequent absences from home which attendance on a regiment made inevitable, the family life went on smoothly enough for some years, the father taking every opportunity, when at home, to cultivate the musical talents of his sons, who depended for the ordinary routine of education on the garrison school, to which all the children went from the age of two to fourteen. Here the splendid talents of _William_ early displayed themselves, and the master confessed that the pupil had soon got beyond his teacher. Although four years younger than Jacob, when the two brothers had lessons in French, the younger had mastered the language in half the time needed by the elder, and he in some measure satisfied his eager desire for knowledge by attending out of school hours to learn all that his master could teach of Latin and arithmetic. At fourteen he was an excellent performer both on the oboe and violin.

[Sidenote: 1743-1754. _Early Recollections._]

The first serious calamity recorded was the irreparable injury caused to the father’s health by the hardships of war. After the battle of Dettingen (June 16th, 1743) the troops remained all night on the field, which was soaked by heavy rains. The unfortunate bandmaster lay in a wet furrow, which caused a complete loss of the use of his limbs for some time, and left him with an impaired constitution and an asthmatical affection which afflicted him to the end of his life. During the dark times of the Seven Years’ War, the little Caroline, then her mother’s sole companion, often heard this grievous trouble spoken of, and the shadow of it cast a gloom over her childish recollections, most of which are of a sombre character. At three years old she was a deeply interested participator in all the family concerns, and of that period she writes:—

“It must have been in 1753 when my brother [Jacob, aged 19] was chosen organist to the new organ in the garrison church; for I remember my mother taking me with her the first Sunday on its opening, and that before she had time to shut the pew door, I took fright at the beginning of a preludium with a full accompaniment, so that I flew out of church and home again. I also remember to have seen my brother William confirmed in his new oböisten uniform.”

The next interesting event was the marriage of the eldest daughter, who was living with a family at Brunswick, and whom her sister says she had never seen until she came home to be married. The bridegroom, Mr. Griesbach, also a musician in the Guard, found no favour in the eyes of his sister-in-law, and it is evidently some satisfaction to her to have been told that her father never cordially approved the match,

“for ... he knew him at least to be but a very middling musician, and this alone would have been enough for my father’s disapprobation.”

Great preparations were made for

“providing and furnishing a habitation (which happened to be in the same house where my parents lived), which they did in as handsome a manner as their straitened income would allow, and to which my dear brothers took delight in contributing to the best of their ability. I remember how delighted I was when they were showing me the pretty framed pictures with which my brother William had decorated his sister’s room, and heard my mother relate afterwards, that the brothers had taken two months’ pay in advance for the wedding entertainment.... Though for stocking a family with household linen my mother was prepared at all times, as perhaps never a more diligent spinner was heard of; but to keep pace with the wishes of my dear brothers, by whom my sister was, as well as by her parents, exceedingly beloved—the whole family were kept for a time in an agreeable bustle to see that nothing that could give either pleasure or comfort might be wanting in her future establishment.... The fête (without which it would have been scandalous in those days to get married) ended with a ball, at which I remember to have been dancing among the rest without a partner.”

[Sidenote: 1753-1755. _Early Recollections._]

A little later, when war troubles broke up the household, and the bride returned to her mother, we are told:

“my sister was not of a very patient temper, and could not be reconciled to have children about her, and I was mostly, when not in school, sent with Alexander to play on the walls or with the neighbour’s children, in which I seldom could join, and often stood freezing on shore to see my brother skating on the Stadtgraben (town ditch) till he chose to go home. In short, there was no one who cared anything about me.”

The earthquake which destroyed Lisbon on the 1st November 1755, was strongly felt at Hanover, and became closely associated in the poor little girl’s mind with the trials and troubles which shortly afterwards fell upon the family. She says:—

“One morning early I was with my father and mother alone in the room, the latter putting my clothes on, when all at once I saw both standing aghast and speechless before me; at the same time my brothers, my sister, and Griesbach came running in, all being panic-struck by the earthquake.”

For a little while the family enjoyed a peaceful interval, during which the extraordinary proficiency of his two eldest sons was a growing source of delight to the father, whose utmost ambition was to see them become accomplished musicians; while the wider flights of William met with his most cordial sympathy. The following passage is one of the very few which reflect the brighter side of the picture:—

“My brothers were often introduced as solo performers and assistants in the orchestra of the court, and I remember that I was frequently prevented from going to sleep by the lively criticism on music on coming from a concert, or conversations on philosophical subjects which lasted frequently till morning, in which my father was a lively partaker and assistant of my brother William by contriving self-made instruments.... Often I would keep myself awake that I might listen to their animating remarks, for it made _me so happy_ to see _them so happy_. But generally their conversation would branch out on philosophical subjects, when my brother William and my father often argued with such warmth, that my mother’s interference became necessary, when the names Leibnitz, Newton, and Euler sounded rather too loud for the repose of her little ones, who ought to be in school by seven in the morning. But it seems that on the brothers retiring to their own room, where they shared the same bed, my brother William had still a great deal to say; and frequently it happened that when he stopped for an assent or reply, he found his hearer was gone to sleep, and I suppose it was not till then that he bethought himself to do the same.

“The recollection of these happy scenes confirms me in the belief, that had my brother William not then been interrupted in his philosophical pursuits, we should have had much earlier proofs of his inventive genius. My father was a great admirer of astronomy, and had some knowledge of that science; for I remember his taking me, on a clear frosty night, into the street, to make me acquainted with several of the most beautiful constellations, after we had been gazing at a comet which was then visible. And I well remember with what delight he used to assist my brother William in his various contrivances in the pursuit of his philosophical studies, among which was a neatly turned 4-inch globe, upon which the equator and ecliptic were engraved by my brother.”

[Sidenote: 1755-1756. _Early Recollections._]

Towards the end of the year 1755 the regiment was under orders for England, and the little household was at once broken up. A place in the court orchestra had been promised to Jacob, but the vacancy did not, unfortunately, occur in time, and he was obliged to smother his discontent, lower his ambition, and accept a place in the band with his younger brother. At length the sad hour of parting arrived:—

“In our room all was mute but in hurried action; my dear father was thin and pale, and my brother William almost equally so, for he was of a delicate constitution and just then growing very fast. Of my brother Jacob I only remember his starting difficulties at everything that was done for him, as my father was busy to see that they were equipped with the necessaries for a march.... The whole town was in motion with drums beating to march: the troops hallooed and roared in the streets, the drums beat louder, Griesbach came to join my father and brothers, and in a moment they all were gone. My sister fled to her own room. Alexander went with many others to follow their relatives for some miles to take a last look. I found myself now with my mother alone in a room all in confusion, in one corner of which my little brother Dietrich lay in his cradle; my tears flowed like my mother’s, but neither of us could speak. I snatched a large handkerchief of my father’s from a chair and took a stool to place it at my mother’s feet, on which I sat down, and put into her hands one corner of the handkerchief, reserving the opposite one for myself; this little action actually drew a momentary smile into her face.... My father left half his pay for our support in the hands of an agent in Hanover, but Griesbach, instead of following my father’s example, gave up his lodging and brought his wife with her goods and chattels to her mother, which arrangement was no small addition to our uncomfortable situation.”

Even at this early age, it is not difficult to trace in these childish recollections the influence of that intense affection for her brother William which made him more and more the centre of all her interests; next to him, her father filled a large place in her heart. Of the long year of separation, nothing is recorded. At last Jacob arrived (having “out of aggravation” got permission to resign his place when the hoped-for vacancy in the orchestra had been otherwise filled) he had travelled by post, while his father and brother, “who never forsook him for self-consideration,” were still toiling wearily on the march home.

“My mother being very busy preparing dinner, had suffered me to go all alone to the parade to meet my father, but I could not find him anywhere, nor anybody whom I knew; so at last, when nearly frozen to death, I came home and found them all at table. My dear brother William threw down his knife and fork, and ran to welcome and crouched down to me, which made me forget all my grievances. The rest were so happy ... at seeing one another again, that my absence had never been perceived.”

[Sidenote: 1756-1757. _Early Recollections._]

The visit to England appears to have further developed the love of show and luxury which painfully distinguished Jacob, who must needs import specimens of English goods and English tailoring, while all that William brought back was a copy of Locke on the Human Understanding, the purchase of which absorbed all his private means, as he never willingly asked his father for a single penny. But it was becoming apparent that he had not the physical strength to continue in the Guard during war time, and after the disastrous campaign of 1757, and the defeat at Hastenbeck,[1] 26th July, 1757 (between 20 and 30 miles from Hanover), his parents resolved to remove him—a step apparently attended by no small difficulty, as our faithful chronicler narrates:—

“I can now comprehend the reason why we little ones were continually sent out of the way, and why I had only by chance a passing glimpse of my brother as I was sitting at the entrance of our street-door, when he glided like a shadow along, wrapped in a great coat, followed by my mother with a parcel containing his accoutrements. After he had succeeded in passing unnoticed beyond the last sentinel at Herrenhausen he changed his dress.... My brother’s keeping himself so carefully from all notice was undoubtedly to avoid the danger of being pressed, for all unengaged young men were forced into the service. Even the clergy, unless they had livings, were not exempted.”

During these times of public and private peril, the little girl was sent regularly to the garrison school with her brother Alexander till three in the afternoon, when she went to another school till six, to learn knitting.

“From that time forward I was fully employed in providing my brothers with stockings, and remember that the first pair for Alexander touched the floor when I stood upright finishing the front. Besides this my pen was frequently in requisition for writing not only my mother’s letters to my father, but for many a poor soldier’s wife in our neighbourhood to her husband in the camp: for it ought to be remembered that in the beginning of the last century very few women, when they left country schools, had been taught to write.”

In addition to these occupations, she was called upon to make herself useful when the fastidious Jacob honoured the humble table with his presence, “and poor I got many a whipping for being awkward at supplying the place of footman or waiter.” The sight of her mother constantly in tears; the prolonged absence of her father; the sister’s unhappiness at being homeless when about to become a mother; all these circumstances combined to sadden the personal recollections of a time of almost unsurpassed national calamity. After the loss of the battle at Hastenbeck, the Recollections thus conclude this period.

[Sidenote: 1757-1760. _Early Recollections._]

“Nothing but distressing reports came from our army, and we were almost immediately in the power of the French troops,[2] each house being crammed with men. In that in which we were obliged to bewail in silence our cruel fate, no less than 16 privates were quartered, besides some officers who occupied the best apartments, and this lasted for about two years [a note of later date says “not so long”] before the town was liberated.”

A gap occurs here, between the years 1757 and 1760, several pages having been torn out in both the original “Recollections” and the unfinished memoir commenced in 1840. In the former, a sentence beginning “the next time I saw him [Jacob] was when he came running to my mother with a letter, the contents of which,” remains unfinished, and the narrative recommences with: “After reading over many pages, I thought it best to destroy them, and merely to write down what I remember to have passed in our family.” Accordingly there is no record of anything preserved during this interval until May, 1760, when the head of the family returned to it for good—broken in health and worn out by hardships to which he was no longer equal, but strong in purpose and devoting himself at once to the musical education of his children and to giving lessons to the numerous pupils who soon came to seek instruction from so excellent a master. Jacob returned for the second time from England at the end of 1759, and obtained the place of first violin in the court orchestra. As usual the appearance of this member of the family caused a general upset of domestic comfort, for

“when he came to dine with us, it generally happened that before he departed his mother was as much out of humour with him as he was at the beefsteaks being hard, and because I did not know how to clean knives and forks with brickdust.”

[Sidenote: 1760-1761. _Early Recollections._]

The younger children made great progress under their father’s careful training, and with all her propensity for seeing the dark side, the daughter’s recollections of this period afford glimpses of a tolerably happy household. If it was “a helpless and distracted family” to which, as she writes, her father returned, those epithets could ill apply to the father himself, for there is abundant evidence that he was a man of no ordinary character—one who, in spite of constant suffering of a most distressing kind, persisted in hard work to the very end, and who set his children a noble example of patience, unselfishness, and self-denial. To the last, as his daughter records,—

“Copying music employed every vacant moment, even sometimes throughout half the night, and the pen was not suffered to rest even when smoking a pipe, which habit he indulged in rather on account of his asthmatical constitution than as a luxury; for, without all exception, he was the most abstemious liver I ever have known; and in every instance, even in the article of clothing, the utmost frugality was observed, and yet he never was seen otherwise than very neat.... With my brother [Dietrich] now a little engaging creature of between four and five years old—he was very much pleased, and [on the first evening of his arrival at home] before he went to rest, the Adempken (a little violin) was taken from the lumbering shelf and newly strung and the daily lessons immediately commenced.... I do not recollect that he ever desired any other society than what he had opportunities of enjoying in many of the parties where he was introduced by his profession; though far from being of a morose disposition; he would frequently encourage my mother in keeping up a social intercourse among a few acquaintances, whilst his afternoon hours generally were taken up in giving lessons to some scholars at home, who gladly saved him the troublesome exertion of walking.... He also found great pleasure in seeing Dietrich’s improvement, who, young as he was, and of the most lively temper imaginable, was always ready to receive his lessons, leaving his little companions (with whom our neighbourhood abounded) with the greatest cheerfulness to go to his father, who was so pleased with his performances that—I think it must have been in October or November—he made him play a solo on the Adempken in Rake’s concert, being placed on a table before a crowded company, for which he was very much applauded and caressed, particularly by an English lady, who put a gold coin in his little pocket.

“It was not long before my father had as many scholars as he could find time to attend, for some of those he had left behind returned to him again, and several families who had sons of about the age of my little brother, became his pupils and proved in time very good performers. And when they assembled at my father’s to make little concerts, I was frequently called to join the second violin in an overture, for my father found pleasure in giving me sometimes a lesson before the instruments were laid by after practising with Dietrich, for I never was missing at those hours, sitting in a corner with my knitting and listening all the while.”

A serious interruption of this and all other occupations was caused by a severe attack of typhus fever which in the summer of 1761 threatened to be fatal, and

“reduced my strength to that degree that for several months after I was obliged to mount the stairs on my hands and feet like an infant; but here I will remark that from that time to this present day (June 5, 1821) I do not remember ever to have spent a whole day in bed.”

In spite of her strong objections to learning, the worthy mother had too correct a view of her duties to stand in the way of the necessary preparation for her daughter’s confirmation, who was accordingly, but not without complaints at the loss of time, released from her household avocations for this purpose. Alexander, who had been taken as a sort of apprentice by Griesbach, was now of an age to turn his great musical talents to profitable account, and returned to Hanover, where he obtained the somewhat mysterious situation of Stadtmusicus (Town Musician), the duties of which office involved

“little else to do but to give a daily lesson to an apprentice and to blow a Corale from the Markt Thurm; so that nearly all his time could be given to practice and receiving instruction from his father. There was no doubt but that he would soon become a good violin player, for his natural genius was such that nothing could spoil it.”

[Sidenote: 1761-1764. _Early Recollections._]

Although the absent brother William kept up regular correspondence with Hanover, many of his letters were written in English and addressed to Jacob, on such subjects as the Theory of Music, in which the family in general could not participate. Year after year went by, and William showed no inclination to leave England, to which country he was becoming more and more attached; the poor father, who felt his strength steadily declining, became painfully eager for his return. On the 2nd April, 1764, they were thrown into “a tumult of joy” by his appearance among them. The visit was a very brief one, offering no hope of any intention to settle in Hanover; the father was well aware that he at least could not look forward to another meeting on earth, while to the poor little unnoticed girl, this visit and its attendant circumstances stood out in her memory as fraught with anguish, which even her unskilled pen succeeds in representing as a grief almost too deep for words.

“Of the joys and pleasures which all felt at this long-wished-for meeting with my—let me say my _dearest_ brother, but a small portion could fall to my share; for with my constant attendance at church and school, besides the time I was employed in doing the drudgery of the scullery, it was but seldom I could make one in the group when the family were assembled together.

“In the first week some of the orchestra were invited to a concert, at which some of my brother William’s compositions, overtures, &c., and some of my eldest brother Jacob’s were performed, to the great delight of my dear father, who hoped and expected that they would be turned to some profit by publishing them, but there was no printer who bid high enough.

“Sunday the 8th was the—to me—eventful day of my confirmation, and I left home not a little proud and encouraged by my dear brother William’s approbation of my appearance in my new gown.”

Not only was she disappointed in her fervent hope that the longed-for brother would not come at the very time when she was obliged to be much from home, but several of the precious days of his stay were spent in a visit to the Griesbachs at Coppenbrügge, and the Sunday fixed for his departure was the very day on which she was to receive her first communion.

[Sidenote: 1764-1767. _Early Recollections._]

“The church was crowded and the door open: the Hamburger Postwagen passed at eleven, bearing away my dear brother, from whom I had been obliged to part at 8 o’clock. It was within a dozen yards from the open door; the postilion giving a smettering blast on his horn. Its effect on my shattered nerves, I will not attempt to describe, nor what I felt for days and weeks after. I wish it were possible to say what I wish to say, without feeling anew that feverish wretchedness which accompanied my walk in the afternoon with some of my school companions, in my black silk dress and bouquet of artificial flowers—the same which had served my sister on her bridal day. I could think of nothing but that on my return I should find nobody but my disconsolate father and mother, for Alexander’s engagements allowed him to be with us only at certain hours, and Jacob was seldom at home except to dress and take his meals.”

From the state of hopeless lethargy in which the poor sister describes herself as going mechanically about her daily tasks after that memorable day, she was roused by a calamity which affected all alike. The father had a paralytic seizure the August following, by which he lost the use of his right side almost entirely, and although he so far recovered as to be able still to receive pupils in his own house, he never regained his former skill on the violin, and was reduced to a sad state of suffering and infirmity; a few months later he was pronounced to be in a confirmed dropsy. Changes of abode, not always for the better; anxieties, on account of Alexander’s prospects and Jacob’s vagaries; disappointment, at seeing his daughter grow up without the education he had hoped to give her; were the circumstances under which the worn-out sufferer struggled through the last three years of his life, copying music at every spare moment, assisting at a Concert only a few weeks before his death, and giving lessons until he was obliged to keep wholly to his bed. He was released from his sufferings at the comparatively early age of sixty-one on the 22nd March, 1767, leaving to his children little more than the heritage of his good example, unblemished character, and those musical talents which he had so carefully educated, and by which he probably hoped the more gifted of his sons would attain to eminence.

Miss Herschel describes herself as having fallen into “a kind of stupefaction,” which lasted for many weeks after the loss of her father, and the awakening to life had little of hope in the present or promise for the future, so far as she could see then. At the age of seventeen she had learned little beyond the first elements of education, and she was now deprived of the one friend who encouraged and sympathised with her desire for better instruction. The parents had never agreed on the subject. “When I had left school,” she writes,

[Sidenote: 1767. _Early Recollections._]

“My father wished to give me something like a polished education, but my mother was particularly determined that it should be a rough, but at the same time a useful one; and nothing farther she thought was necessary but to send me two or three months to a sempstress to be taught to make household linen. Having added this accomplishment to my former ingenuities, I never afterwards could find leisure for thinking of anything but to contrive and make for the family in all imaginable forms whatever was wanting, and thus I learned to make bags and sword-knots long before I knew how to make caps and furbelows.... My mother would not consent to my being taught French, and my brother Dietrich was even denied a dancing-master, because she would not permit my learning along with him, though the entrance had been paid for us both; so all my father could do for me was to indulge me (and please himself) sometimes with a short lesson on the violin, when my mother was either in good humour or out of the way. Though I have often felt myself exceedingly at a loss for the want of those few accomplishments of which I was thus, by an erroneous though well-meant opinion of my mother, deprived, I could not help thinking but that she had cause for wishing me not to know more than was necessary for being useful in the family; for it was her certain belief that my brother William would have returned to his country, and my eldest brother not have looked so high, if they had had a little less learning.

* * * * *

But sometimes I found it scarcely possible to get through with the work required, and felt very unhappy that no time at all was left for improving myself in music or fancy-work, in which I had an opportunity of receiving some instruction from an ingenious young woman whose parents lived in the same house with us. But the time wanted for spending a few hours together could only be obtained by our meeting at daybreak, because by the time of the family’s rising at seven, I was obliged to be at my daily business. But during the summer months of 1766 very few mornings passed without our spending a few hours together, to which I was called by my friend’s loud cough at her window by way of notice that she was ready for me [she could not sleep, and was glad of my company. I lost her soon after, for she died of consumption]. Though I had neither time nor means for producing anything immediately either for show or use, I was content with keeping samples of all possible patterns in needlework, beads, bugles, horsehair, &c., for I could not help feeling troubled sometimes about my future destiny; yet I could not bear the idea of being turned into an Abigail or housemaid, and thought that with the above and such like acquirements with a little notion of Music, I might obtain a place as governess in some family where the want of a knowledge of French would be no objection.”

It was with the same object of fitting herself to earn her bread, that, after her father’s death, she obtained permission to go for a month or two to learn millinery and dress-making; her eldest brother Jacob, before leaving them to join William at Bath, having graciously given his consent, “if it was only meant to learn to make my own things, but positively forbidding it for any other purpose.” The following account of this episode shows how customary such apprenticeship was among young ladies of good family, as a part of their education:—

[Sidenote: 1768. _Early Recollections._]

“My mother found some difficulty in persuading the lady to whom I wished to go, to receive me without paying the usual premium, but at last she gave me leave to come on paying one thaler per month. I felt myself rather humbled on going the first time among twenty-one young people with an elegant woman, Madame Küster, at their head, directing them in various works of finery. Among the group were several young ladies of genteel families, and as I came there on rather reduced terms, I expected that I should be kept in the back ground, doing nothing but the plain work of the business; but contrary to my fears, I gained in the school-mistress a valuable friend.... Here I found myself daily happy for a few hours, and one of the young women,[3] after a lapse of thirty-five years, when I was introduced to her at the Queen’s Lodge, received me as an old acquaintance, though I could but just remember having sometimes exchanged a nod and smile with a sweet little girl about ten or eleven years old. But I soon was sensible of having found what hitherto I had looked for in vain—a sincere and disinterested friend to whom I might have applied for counsel and comfort in my deserted situation.”

A proposal from Jacob that Dietrich, whom the father on his deathbed had specially commended to his care, should be sent to England, caused his mother the utmost distress, on account of his being still too young to be confirmed; but her scruples were overcome and Dietrich was despatched in the summer as soon as a fitting escort could be found.

“But what was yet more aggravating was, that the loss of his company was supplied by a country cousin whom my mother permitted to spend the summer with us in order to have the advantage of my mother’s advice in making preparation for her marriage.... This young woman, full of good-nature and ignorance, grew unfortunately so fond of me that she was for ever at my side, and by that means I lost what little interval of leisure I might then have had for reading, practising the violin, &c., entirely. Besides this, I was extremely discomposed at seeing Alexander associating with young men who led him into all manner of expensive pleasures which involved him in debts for the hire of horses and carioles, &c., and I was (though he knew my inability of helping him) made a partaker in his fears that these scrapes should come to the knowledge of our mother.

“My time was, however, filled up pretty well with making household linen, &c., against Jacob’s return.... It was not, however, till the middle of the following summer that we saw him again, and I suppose his stay must have been prolonged on account of waiting till he had had the honour of playing before their Majesties, for which (in consequence of having composed and dedicated a set of six sonatas to the Queen) he was informed he would receive a summons.... After this his salary was augmented by 100 thalers,” and the promise of not being overlooked in future.

[Note.—Before I leave this subject I cannot help remembering the sacrifices these good people were making to pride. They played nowhere for money, for even when in 1768 (I think it was) the King’s theatre was first opened _to the Public_, and the Court orchestra was called upon to play there, they did it without any emolument, so that there was no way left to increase their small salaries but by giving a few subscription concerts in the winter, or by teaching. So much, by way of apology, for the emigration of part of my family to England.]

[Sidenote: 1768-1770. _Early Recollections._]

“We passed the winter in the utmost quiet, except when Alexander took it into his head to entertain gentlemen in his own apartment, which always made my mother very cross, else in general nothing disturbed us in our occupation. My mother spun, I was at work on a set of ruffles of Dresden-work for my brother Jacob, whilst Alexander often sat by us and amused us and himself with making all sorts of things in pasteboard, or contriving how to make a twelve-hour Cuckoo clock go a week.... As my mother saw that Dietrich’s confirmation was still uncertain, she insisted on having him back again.... Accordingly at the end of July they [Jacob and Dietrich] arrived, and Dietrich entered school again immediately,” but remained only until his confirmation the following Easter.

A new direction was suddenly given to all their plans by the arrival of letters from the absent brother William, who proposed that his sister should join him at Bath—

... “to make the trial if by his instruction I might not become a useful singer for his winter concerts and oratorios, he advised my brother Jacob to give me some lessons by way of beginning; but that if after a trial of two years we should not find it answer our expectation he would bring me back again. This at first seemed to be agreeable to all parties, but by the time I had set my heart upon this change in my situation, Jacob began to turn the whole scheme into ridicule, and, of course, he never heard the sound of my voice except in speaking, and yet I was left in the harassing uncertainty whether I was to go or not. I resolved at last to prepare, as far as lay in my power, for both cases, by taking, in the first place, every opportunity when all were from home to imitate, with a gag between my teeth, the solo parts of concertos, _shake and all_, such as I had heard them play on the violin; in consequence I had gained a tolerable execution before I knew how to sing. I next began to knit ruffles, which were intended for my brother William in case I remained at home—else they were to be Jacob’s. For my mother and brother D. I knitted as many cotton stockings as would last two years at least.”

Jacob remained with his family until the following July, when he returned to Bath, this time taking Alexander with him for two years’ leave of absence, the young Dietrich being deemed competent not only to supply his place in the orchestra, but also to attend his private pupils.

[Sidenote: 1772. _Early Recollections._]

Nothing is recorded in the interval between Jacob’s return to Hanover in the autumn and the long expected arrival of William in April, 1772, except one of the changes of abode, which were of such frequent occurrence, involving abundance of employment in making and altering articles of household use, which afforded some relief to the conscientious daughter, who was sorely troubled by uncertainty as to her duty in the matter of going to England or staying with her mother, although the latter had given her consent to the change.

“In this manner” [making prospective clothes for them] “I tried to still the compunction I felt at leaving relatives who, I feared, would lose some of their comforts by my desertion, and nothing but the belief of returning to them full of knowledge and accomplishments could have supported me in the parting moment, which was much embittered by the absence of my brother Jacob, who was with the Court which attended on the Queen of Denmark at the _Görde_, where my brother Dietrich had also been for some time, and but just returned when my brother William, for whose safety we had for several weeks been under no small apprehension, at last quite unexpectedly arrived.... His stay at Hanover could at the utmost not be prolonged above a fortnight.... My mother had consented to my going with him, and the anguish at my leaving her was somewhat alleviated by my brother settling a small annuity on her, by which she would be enabled to keep an attendant to supply my place.” They all went over to Coppenbrügge “to see my sister—I to take leave of her; the remaining time was wasted in an unsatisfactory correspondence: the letters from my brother Jacob expressed nothing but regret and impatience at being thus disappointed, and, without being able to effect a meeting, I was obliged to go without receiving the consent of my eldest brother to my going....

* * * * *

“But I will not attempt to describe my feelings when the parting moment arrived, and I left my dear mother and most dear Dietrich on Sunday, August 16th, 1772, at the Posthouse, and after travelling for six days and nights on an open (in those days very inconvenient) Postwagen, we were on the following Saturday conveyed in a small open vessel from the quay at Helvotsluis on a stormy sea, to the packet boat, which lay two miles distant at anchor; from which we were again obliged to go in an open boat to be set ashore, or rather thrown like balls by two English sailors, on the coast of Yarmouth.[4] For the vessel was almost a wreck, without a main and another of its masts.

“After having crawled to one of a row of neat low houses, we found the party previously arrived from the ship devouring their breakfast; several clean-dressed women employed in cutting bread and butter (from fine wheaten loaves) as fast as ever they could. One of them went upstairs with me to help me to put on my clothes, and after taking some tea we mounted some sort of a cart to bring us to the next place where diligences going to London would pass. But we had hardly gone a quarter of an English mile when the horse, which was not used to go in what they called the shafts, ran away with us, overturning the cart with trunk and passengers. My brother, another person, and myself all throwing themselves out, I flying into a dry ditch. We all came off however, with only the fright, owing to the assistance of a gentleman who, with his servant, was accompanying us on horseback. These persons had come in the packet with us, and it was settled not to part till in London, where we arrived at noon on the 26th at an inn in the City. Here we remained till the evening of the 27th. My brother having business at the West-end of the town, left me under the care of our fellow travellers; but after his return, in the evening when the shops were lighted up, we went to see all that was to be seen in that part of London, of which I only remember the opticians’ shops, for I do not think we stopped at any other.

“The next day the mistress of the inn lent me a hat of her daughter’s—mine was blown into one of the canals of Holland, for we had storms by land as well as at sea—and we went to see St. Paul’s, the Bank, &c., &c. Mem: only the outside, except of St. Paul’s and the Bank, and we were never off our legs, except at meals in our inn. Towards evening we went to the West of the town, where, after having called on Despatch Secretary Wiese and his lady (Mr. Wiese conducted our correspondence with Hanover) we went to the inn, from whence we at ten o’clock in the evening started by the night coach for Bath on the 28th of August.... After taking some tea I went immediately to bed, and I did not awake till the next day in the afternoon, when I found my brother had but just left his room. I for my part was, from the privation of sleep for eleven or twelve days (not having above twice been in what they called a bed) almost annihilated.”

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END OF RECOLLECTIONS, VOL. I.

The only allusion to this journey in Sir W. Herschel’s Journal is the brief entry:—“August 16, 1772. Set off on my return to England in company with my sister.”