Louis Spohr's Autobiography. Spohr Louis

and with him all the company. The servants placed two rows of stools in front of the orchestra, upon which the Court seated themselves. Our play was listened to in the greatest silence, and with interest; but no one dared utter a syllable of approval, as the King had not given the lead. The interest he took in the performances was shewn only at the close of each by a gracious nod of the head, and scarcely were they over, than all hastened back to the card-tables, and the former noise began anew.

      During the remainder of the Concert, I had leisure to look about me. My attention was particularly directed to the King’s card-table, in which in order to accommodate itself better to his Majesty’s obesity, a semi-circular place had been cut out, into which the King’s belly fitted closely. The great size of the latter, and the little extent of the Kingdom, gave rise as is well known to the smart caricature in which the King in his Coronation-robes, with the map of his Kingdom fastened to the button of his knee breeches, is represented as uttering the words: “I cannot see over all my States!”

      As soon as the King had finished his game, and moved back his stool, the Concert was broken off in the middle of an aria by Madame Graff, so that the last notes of a cadence actually stuck in her throat. The musicians accustomed to this vandalism, packed their instruments quietly in their cases; but I was deeply exasperated at such an insult to the Art.

      At that time, Würtemberg groaned under a despotism such as indeed the rest of Germany had never known. To cite only a few examples of this, it suffices to say: that rain or snow, every one who entered the Palace-Court at Stuttgard was compelled to walk hat in hand from the irongates to the portal of the palace, because his Majesty’s apartments were on that side. Every civilian was furthermore obliged by the most imperative order to take off his hat before the sentry, who was not required to salute him in return. In the theatre, it was strictly forbidden by notices to that effect, to applaud with the hands before the King had commenced. But his Majesty on account of the extreme cold of the winter sat with his hands buried in a large muff, and only took them out when his Royalty was graciously pleased to feel the want of a pinch of snuff. When that was done, it little mattered what was going on upon the stage, he then clapped his hands. Upon this the Chamberlain who stood behind the King, immediately joined in, and thereby gave notice to the loyal people, that they might also give vent to their approbation. In this manner the most interesting scenes and the best pieces of music of the opera were almost always disturbed, and interrupted by a horrid noise.

      As the citizens of Stuttgard had long learned to accommodate themselves to the Royal humours, they were not a little astonished at what I had stipulated for before my appearance at the Court-concert, and had actually granted to me. This made me the object of public attention, and the result was, that my concert in the town was attended by an unusually numerous auditory. The Royal orchestra gave me their support in the most friendly manner, and the Director Danzi endeavoured to facilitate the whole arrangements for me in every possible way.

      Danzi was a most amiable artiste, and I felt the more inclined towards him, from finding he had the same admiration for Mozart, that I was so deeply impressed with. Mozart, and his works, were the inexhaustible subjects of our conversation, and I still possess a most cherished memorial of that time, a four-handed arrangement of Mozart’s Symphony in G-Minor, composed by Danzi, and in his own handwriting.

      In Stuttgard I also first made the acquaintance of the since so greatly famed Carl Maria von Weber, with whom up to the time of his death I was always on the most friendly terms. Weber was then Secretary to one of the Princes of Würtemberg and cultivated the Art as an amateur only. This however, did not hinder him from composing with great assiduity, and I still well remember hearing at his house, as a sample of Weber’s works some “Numbers” from the Opera “Der Beherrscher der Geister.” (The Ruler of the Spirits.) But these, from being always accustomed to take Mozart as the type and rule by which to measure all dramatic works, appeared to me so unimportant and amateur-like, that I had not the most distant idea Weber would ever succeed in attracting notice with any opera.

      Of the Concerts which we gave besides, in Heidelberg and Frankfort on the Mayne, before our return home, I can now speak but imperfectly from memory—I therefore give a few extracts from the notices of the Musical-Journal.

      First of all speaking of Heidelberg, it says: “Eisenmenger’s violin would still have been unforgotten, had not the Heidelbergers had the pleasure in the last Concert to hear Louis Spohr play in his Rode-like style of firm, sustained and skillful bow-stroke. His wife played the harp, in a way one seldom hears in Germany—with a tenderness, lightness and grace, with a confidence, strength, and expression, that are quite captivating.”

      To me it seems very strange, that even at this time my play was still designated as a Rode-like style, for at that period at least I thought to have wholly laid aside his manner. Perhaps it arose merely, from the circumstance, that, on account of the easier accompaniment, I had selected a Concerto of Rode’s for execution.

      Respecting the Concert in Frankfort on the 28. March, the remarks were also very eulogistic. The Frankfort Journal spoke of the “wellmerited, and distinguished applause” that we met with, and reverted to a “in many respects similar Pair, who five and twenty or thirty years before made much sensation in Mannheim, and afterwards in London—to Wilhelm Kramer, the great Violinist and his wife, the splendid Harpiste”.

      On my return to Gotha I was met at some miles from the town by my pupils, some of whom had remained there during my absence, and others but shortly returned, and escorted by them as in triumph to my tastefully decorated dwelling. We there found Dorette’s parents and relatives all assembled to welcome us, and also our dear child, who under her grandmother’s excellent care was in blooming health. As on our tour we had not only earned a rich harvest of applause, but had saved a sum of money which for our circumstances was considerable, we now felt on our return to our domestic hearth right happy and free from care.

      As soon as I had resumed the Direction of the Court-concerts, I felt impelled to set to work at new compositions. I first wrote a Potpourri for the violin with orchestral accompaniment (Op. 23, published by André of Offenbach) which had already suggested itself to me during the journey, and for the most part in the carriage. I was very desirous to see on paper what I there thought a very artistic combination of two Themes in one and the same; but still more desirous to hear it executed by an orchestra. This Potpourri begins with a lively, and for the solo, brilliant Allegro in G-Major, connected with and passing into the Theme from the “Entführung”: “Wer ein Liebchen hat gefunden” in G-Minor. After this has been varied five times alternately in the Minor and Major, it is taken up in sixth Variation by the wind-instruments, and for a time carried out in free-fugued Entries. On the return into the principal key, the first horn takes up the melody of the song in the Major and carries it out completely to the end. This is then succeeded anew in a very startling manner by the introductory Allegro of the primo, blending with it as it were in the style of a Fantasia, though it previously appeared as an independant piece of Music.

      With the working of this combination at the Rehearsal, I was very satisfied; but when the Potpourri was executed at the Court-Concert, I was doomed to see my ingenious combination of the two themes was noticed by a few musicians only, and was totally lost upon the rest of the hearers.

The next that I wrote, was the Concertante for two Violins (Op. 48, published by Peters in Leipsic). I was prompted to this chiefly by the artistic genius of one of my pupils one Herr Hildebrandt of Rathenow, with whom I was very fond of playing. This young man had made so much progress under my guidance in twelve months, that he promised to become one of the first violinists of Germany. Unfortunately, at a later period, by what mischance I now no longer remember, a wound which he received in his left hand became a bar to the full development of his talent, so that he did not become so known in the Musical world, as was previously to have been expected. This pupil had acquired to such a degree his instructor’s method of execution in all its shadings, that he might have been considered a true copy of him. Our play blended therefore so intimately, that, without looking at us, no one could tell by the ear which of us played the upper or which the lower key. In this manner we had practised