ediatrix between him and his audience, and to ward
off all disturbing or injurious impressions from his sensitive soul,
which day by day became more irritable. Now that he found perfect
contentment in his domestic relations, he withdrew from his intercourse
with others and devoted himself exclusively to his family and work. The
deep joy of his married life, produced the direct result of a mighty
advance in his artistic progress. Schumann's most beautiful works in
the larger forms date almost entirely from the years 1841-5."

He went with her on many of her tours. They even planned an American
trip. Once they were received with a public banquet; these two whom
Reissman calls "the marvellous couple." In his letters there are
always loving allusions to "my Clara," and though he could not himself
play because of his lame finger, she was to him his "right hand." Once
in referring to a prospective concert he even wrote, "We shall play"
such and such numbers.

In 1853 he and Clara went to the Netherlands, where he found his music
well known and himself highly honoured, though they say that the King
of Holland, after praising Clara's playing, turned to Robert and said:
"Are you also musical?" But then one does not expect much from a king.
The musicians knew Schumann's work, and he rejoiced at finding friends
of his art in a far-away country. "But," says Reissman, "this was
destined to be his last happiness."

For the dread affliction which throws a spell of horror across his life
and his wife's devotion, did not long delay in seizing upon him after
his marriage. As early as 1833, the ferocious onslaughts of melancholia
had affected him at long intervals. In 1845, on the doctor's advice, he
moved to Dresden. His trouble seems to have been "an abnormal formation
of irregular masses of bone in the brain." He was afraid to live above
the ground floor, or to go high in any building, lest he throw himself
from the window in a sudden attack. He was subject to moods of long,
and one might almost say violent, silence. In 1845 he described it as
"a mysterious complaint which, when the doctor tries to take hold of
it, disappears. I dare say better times are coming, and when I look
upon my wife and children, I have joy enough."

Later he wrote to Mendelssohn, that he preferred staying at home, even
when his wife went out.

"Wherever there is fun and enjoyment, I must still keep out of the way;
the only thing to be done is hope ... hop