4–10 May 1891

Awoke with pleasant memories of yesterday. I always feel well in Russian society when I am not obliged to speak a foreign tongue. At twelve o’clock Botkin called for me to lunch with the Ambassador, Struve. Afterwards I went with Botkin and Hausen to see the sights of Washington.

I reached Philadelphia at three o’clock. Breakfasted downstairs. A very importunate Jew from Odessa called and got some money out of me. Went for a walk. The concert at eight p.m. The enormous theatre was filled to overflowing. After the concert, according to long-standing promise, I went to the club. The return journey to New York was very wearisome.

Feel quite stupid from exhaustion and constant travelling. I could stand no more, if it were not for the thought of my departure to-morrow, which buoys me up. I am inundated with requests for my autograph. At 12.30 I went over to Z.’s and wrote the testimonial, omitting the phrase which ranks these pianos as the first. Went home and waited for the composer Brummklein. He came and played me some very pretty things.

The old librettist came. I was very sorry to have to tell him I could not compose an opera to his libretto. He seemed very sad. Scarcely had he gone before Dannreuther came in to take me to the rehearsal of the Quartets and Trios to be played this evening at the Composers’ Club. It was rather a long distance. The Quartet was indifferently played and the Trio really badly, for the pianist, a shy, nervous man, was no good: he could not even count. I had no time to make any preparations for the journey. Drove to Renos’. They received me with more kindness and cordiality than ever, especially Madame Reno and her three daughters. The eldest (Anna, who is married) gave me a beautiful cigar-case, M. Reno a quantity of scent, and Alice and her sister cakes for the journey. Then I hurried to Hyde’s. Mrs. Hyde was already expecting me. Here too I was received with great kindness and sincere enthusiasm. At last I got home to pack my box. Hateful business, which gave me a dreadful pain in my back. Tired out, I went over to Mayer’s, and invited him to dinner at Martelli’s. At eight o’clock I was taken to the Composers’ Club. This is not a club of composers, as I first thought, but a special musical union which arranges, from time to time, evenings devoted to the works of one composer. Yesterday was devoted to me, and the concert was held in the magnificent Metropolitan House. I sat in the first row. They played the Quartet (E flat minor) and the Trio; some songs were very well sung, but the programme was too long. In the middle of the evening I received an address; I answered shortly, in French; of course an ovation. One lady threw an exquisite bouquet of roses straight in my face. I was introduced to a crowd of people, among others our Consul-General. At the conclusion I had to speak to about a hundred people and distribute a hundred autographs. I reached home half dead with fatigue. As the steamer left at five o’clock in the morning, I had to go on board that night, so I dressed with all speed, and packed my things while Reno and Mayer waited for me. Downstairs we drank two bottles of champagne. I said good-bye to the servants of the hotel and drove off to the steamer. The drive was very long. The steamer is quite as fine as the Bretagne; I have an officer’s cabin. On this ship the officers are allowed to let their cabins, but they ask an exorbitant price. I had to pay 300 dollars (1,500 francs) for mine.... But it is really nice and very roomy. I said good-bye to my dear American friends and went straight to bed. I slept badly and heard all the noise when the steamer started at five o’clock. I came out of my cabin as we passed the statue of Freedom.