On 1st September 1764 James Boswell, aged 23, meets Giacomo Casanova in Berlin and records the meeting in his diary “I dined at Rufin’s, where [Casanova], an Italian, wanted to shine as a great philosopher, and accordingly doubted of his existence and of everything else. I thought him a blockhead…”
The Duke of Wellington recalls meeting Lord Nelson. The account is taken from the papers of John Wilson Croker, Wellington’s friend “We were talking of Lord Nelson, and some instances were mentioned of the egotism and vanity that derogated his character. ‘Why,’ said the Duke, ‘I am not surprised at such instances, for Lord Nelson was, in different circumstances, two quite different men, as I myself can vouch, though I only saw him once in my life, and for, perhaps, an hour. It was soon after I returned from India. I went to the Colonial Office in Downing Street [on 12th September, 1805], and there I was shown into a little waiting-room on the right hand, where I found, also waiting to see the Secretary of State, a gentleman, whom from his likeness to his pictures and the loss of an arm, I immediately recognised as Lord Nelson. He could not know who I was, but he entered at once into conversation with me, if I can call it conversation, for it was almost all on his side, and all about himself, and in, really, a style so vain and silly as to surprise and almost disgust me. I suppose something that I happened to say may have made him guess that I was somebody and he went out of the room for a moment, I have no doubt to ask the office-keeper who I was, for when he came back he was altogether a different man, both in manner and matter. All that I had thought a charlatan style had vanished, and he talked of the state of the country and of the aspect and probabilities of affairs on the Continent with a good sense, and a knowledge of subjects both at home and abroad… Now, if the Secretary of State had been punctual, and admitted Lord Nelson in the first quarter of an hour, I should have had the same impression of a light and trivial character that other people have had, but luckily I saw enough to be satisfied that he was really a very superior man.”
On 1st October 1853 the unknown Johannes Brahms, aged 20, played his music to Robert and Clara Schumann at their house in Dusseldorf. Clara recorded the day in her diary “Here is one who comes as if sent from God! He played us sonatas and scherzos of his own, all of them rich in fantasy, depth of feeling and mastery of form. Robert could see no reasons to suggest any changes. It is truly moving to behold him at the piano, his interesting young face transfigured by the music, his fine hands which easily overcome the greatest difficulties (his things are very difficult), and above all his marvellous works. A great future lies before him, for when he comes to the point of writing for the orchestra, then he will have found the true medium for his imagination.” That day, Robert simply wrote in his diary “Visit from Brahms (a genius).”
The Duke of Wellington recalls meeting Lord Nelson. The account is taken from the papers of John Wilson Croker, Wellington’s friend “We were talking of Lord Nelson, and some instances were mentioned of the egotism and vanity that derogated his character. ‘Why,’ said the Duke, ‘I am not surprised at such instances, for Lord Nelson was, in different circumstances, two quite different men, as I myself can vouch, though I only saw him once in my life, and for, perhaps, an hour. It was soon after I returned from India. I went to the Colonial Office in Downing Street [on 12th September, 1805], and there I was shown into a little waiting-room on the right hand, where I found, also waiting to see the Secretary of State, a gentleman, whom from his likeness to his pictures and the loss of an arm, I immediately recognised as Lord Nelson. He could not know who I was, but he entered at once into conversation with me, if I can call it conversation, for it was almost all on his side, and all about himself, and in, really, a style so vain and silly as to surprise and almost disgust me. I suppose something that I happened to say may have made him guess that I was somebody and he went out of the room for a moment, I have no doubt to ask the office-keeper who I was, for when he came back he was altogether a different man, both in manner and matter. All that I had thought a charlatan style had vanished, and he talked of the state of the country and of the aspect and probabilities of affairs on the Continent with a good sense, and a knowledge of subjects both at home and abroad… Now, if the Secretary of State had been punctual, and admitted Lord Nelson in the first quarter of an hour, I should have had the same impression of a light and trivial character that other people have had, but luckily I saw enough to be satisfied that he was really a very superior man.”
On 1st October 1853 the unknown Johannes Brahms, aged 20, played his music to Robert and Clara Schumann at their house in Dusseldorf. Clara recorded the day in her diary “Here is one who comes as if sent from God! He played us sonatas and scherzos of his own, all of them rich in fantasy, depth of feeling and mastery of form. Robert could see no reasons to suggest any changes. It is truly moving to behold him at the piano, his interesting young face transfigured by the music, his fine hands which easily overcome the greatest difficulties (his things are very difficult), and above all his marvellous works. A great future lies before him, for when he comes to the point of writing for the orchestra, then he will have found the true medium for his imagination.” That day, Robert simply wrote in his diary “Visit from Brahms (a genius).”
