to free himself from a false position that was of
no service to art. It was assuredly a grand thing,
he said, to have renounced a good salary of nine thousand
marks as general musical conductor in Berlin, and
to have retired to Leipzig as a simple conductor at
the Gewandhaus concerts, and Mendelssohn was much
to be admired on that account. Just at that time
I happened to be in a position to give some correct
details regarding this apparent sacrifice on the part
of Mendelssohn, because when I had made a serious
proposal to our general management about increasing
the salaries of several of the poorer members of the
orchestra, Luttichau was requested to inform me that,
according to the King’s latest commands, the
expenditure on the state bands was to be so restricted
that for the present the poorer chamber musicians
could not claim any consideration, for Herr von Falkenstein,
the governor of the Leipzig district, who was a passionate
admirer of Mendelssohn’s, had gone so far as
to influence the King to appoint the latter secret
conductor, with a secret salary of six thousand marks.
This sum, together with the salary of three thousand
marks openly granted him by the management of the
Leipzig Gewandhaus, would amply compensate him for
the position he had renounced in Berlin, and he had
consequently consented to migrate to Leipzig.
This large grant had, for decency’s sake, to
be kept secret by the board administering the band
funds, not only because it was detrimental to the
interests of the institution, but also because it might
give offence to those who were acting as conductors
at a lower salary, if they knew another man had been
appointed to a sinecure. From these circumstances
Mendelssohn derived not only the advantage of having
the grant kept a secret, but also the satisfaction
of allowing his friends to applaud him as a model of
self-sacrificing zeal for going to Leipzig; which they
could easily do, although they knew him to be in a
good financial position. When I explained this
to Franck, he was astonished, and admitted it was
one of the strangest cases he had ever come across
in connection with undeserved fame.
We soon arrived at a mutual understanding in our views
about many other artistic celebrities with whom we
came in contact at that time in Dresden. This
was a simple matter in the case of Ferdinand Hiller,
who was regarded as the chief of the ’good-natured’
ones. Regarding the more famous painters of the
so-called Dusseldorf School, whom I met frequently
through the medium of Tannhauser, it was not quite
so easy to come to a conclusion, as I was to a great
extent influenced by the fame attached to their well-known
names; but here again Franck startled me with opportune
and conclusive reasons for disappointment. When
it was a question between Bendemann and Hubner, it
seemed to me that Hubner might very well be sacrificed
to Bendemann. The latter, who had only just completed
the frescoes for one of the reception-rooms at the