Berlioz and his wife, two of the most highly strung individuals to be found anywhere, were bound to have plenty of storm and stress in their daily life.  And so it came about that a separation, at least for a time, seemed advisable.  Berlioz made every provision in his power for her comfort, and then started out on various tours to make his compositions known.  Concerts were given in Stuttgart, Heckingen, Weimar, Leipsic, and in Dresden two, both very successful.  Others took place in Brunswick, Hamburg, Berlin, Hanover, finishing at Darmstadt, where the Grand Duke insisted not only on the composer taking the full receipts for the concert, but, in addition, refused to let him pay any of the expenses.

And now back in Paris, at the treadmill of writing again.  Berlioz had the sort of mentality which could plan, and also execute, big musical enterprises on a grand scale.  It was proposed that he and Strauss should give a couple of monster concerts in the Exhibition Building.  He got together a body of 1022 performers, all paid except the singers from the lyric theaters, who volunteered to help for the love of music.

It was a tremendous undertaking, and though an artistic success, the exertion nearly finished Berlioz, who was sent south by his physician.  Resting on the shores of the Mediterranean, he afterwards gave concerts in Marseilles, Lyons, and Lille and then traveled to Vienna.  He writes of this visit: 

“My reception by all in Vienna—­even by my fellow-plowmen, the critics—­was most cordial; they treated me as a man and a brother, for which I am heartily grateful.

“After my third concert, there was a grand supper, at which my friends presented me with a silver-gilt baton, and the Emperor sent me eleven hundred francs, with the odd compliment:  ’Tell Berlioz I was really amused.’”

His way now led through Hungary.  Performances were given in Pesth and Prague, where he was royally entertained and given a silver cup.

On returning to Paris, he had much domestic trouble to bear.  His wife was paralyzed and his only son, Louis, wished to leave home and become a sailor—­which he did eventually, though much against the wishes of his parents.

The “Damnation of Faust,” now finished, was given at the Opera, and was not a success.  Berlioz then conceived the idea of going to Russia to retrieve his fortunes.  With the help of kind friends, who advanced the money, he was able to carry out the plan.  He left for Russia on February 14, 1847.  The visits to both St. Petersburg and Moscow proved to be very successful financially as well as artistically.  To cap the climax, “Romeo and Juliette” was performed at St. Petersburg.  Then the King of Prussia, wishing to hear the “Faust,” the composer arranged to spend ten days in Berlin:  then to Paris and London, where success was also achieved.

Shadows as well as sunshine filled the next few years.  The composer was saddened by the passing of his father.  Then a favorite sister also left, and last of all his wife passed quietly away, March 3, 1854.  With all these sorrows Berlioz was at times nearly beside himself.  But as he became calmer he decided, after half a year, to wed a woman who had been of great assistance to him in his work for at least fourteen years.