From the windows of our house on the Bellevue we had a very fine view across the meadows into the valley, which is enlivened by the Leipzic high-road, and the beauty of the country induced us to take frequent walks in the charming environs of Cassel. In these walks we were mostly attracted by the numerous villas situated in gardens, outside the Wilhelmshöhe, and also of the Cologne gate; and as we began to like this part very much, we soon felt the wish, also, to have such a house with garden as we had already once rented in Gotha, that we might call our own property. When therefore in our rambles any one of these particularly took our fancy. I often made enquiries whether the owner was disposed to sell it, but was frequently answered in the negative, until at length a small country-house outside the Cologne gate, close to the town and not far from the theatre, in a quiet neighbourhood surrounded on all sides by gardens, was offered to me to purchase. As the price asked for it did not exceed the amount of my small savings placed with the firm of William Speyer of Frankfort, I concluded the purchase of it at once, and already in the autumn we moved into the newly-acquired property and had the pleasure of gathering forthwith a good harvest of fruit and vegetables. The only thing I missed in the new house was a spacious music room. I therefore had a partition wall removed that separated two rooms on the first floor, and by that means gained a sufficiently roomy saloon for a quartet party, which, however, had the defect in an acoustic point of view, of being too low; for which reason I proposed to myself at a later period to erect a building with a music room.
Our pretty quiet country-house incited me anew to fresh compositions, and so I first wrote a third quartet to the two already begun in Dresden, which were published by Peters of Leipzic as Op. 58. In order to have this quartet heard and the former ones, I established here also a quartet circle, at which, in turn with some other families who were lovers of music, we gave three quartets every week, and concluded the evenings with a frugal supper. At first the quartet consisted of myself, Mr. Wiele, solo violinist, and subsequently concert-master of our court orchestra, of my brother Ferdinand, who took the viol, and of our excellent violincellist Hasemann. But as by degrees, both in the orchestra, and in this small circle, death made some vacancies, others were obliged to be substituted in their place, and then some time was always required until we obtained once more the old, customary ensemble again. In 1831 my brother was first snatched from us, then Wiele, and at last Hasemann; but their places were again filled by new members of our court orchestra, so that the quartet parties, which only took place in the winter months, never ceased entirely, and I myself up to quite recently (1858) played two quartets in each of them.
After I had completed the third quartet of Op. 58, a fancy seized me to carry out an idea I had long conceived, and of which, if I am not mistaken, Andrew Romberg, when we played a quartet together for the last time before his death, first spoke of, viz. to try my hand at a double quartet. The circumstance that Romberg had entertained the idea for several years without ever attempting it, incited me to it yet more, and I imagined to myself the manner in which he had also comprehended it, and how two quartet parties sitting close to each other, should be made to play one piece of music, and keep in reserve the eight-voice play for the chief-parts of the composition only. According to this idea, I also wrote my first double quartet (B minor), began the theme of the first allegro with both quartets unisono, and forte, in order to impress it well upon the hearers, and then carried it concerted through both quartets in turn. Of the families who belonged to the quartet circle, the marshal of the court von der Malsburg had the most spacious place, for which reason I waited until the turn came to him to give the quartet party, at which I then with the assistance of my best pupils and of a second violincellist from the orchestra, gave the new double quartet to our circle, to hear. I was greatly pleased to find that its effect was far greater than that of simple quartets and quintets, and as this kind of chamber music excited also great sensation abroad[27], as was proved by its frequent performance, I expected nothing less than that the composers of that day would soon imitate it and make it general. But this was as little the case, as with some other extensions of the forms of art, which I have tried in later years, as for instance in the symphony for two orchestras: “Irdisches und Göttliches im Menschenleben.” (The earthly and heavenly in human life, Op. 121) in the historical symphony (Op. 116), and the four-handed piano-forte accompaniment to some tenor songs. One single young composer only, of Lubeck, of the name of Pape, who was afterwards appointed violincellist in the orchestra of the theatre at Bremen, once sent me a double quartet in manuscript. He had great talent for composition, but found no opportunity of making his things known, and like so many young Germans, became desponding for want of the recognition of his talent. This has never been published, and thus my four double quartets remain the only ones of their kind. An octet for stringed instruments by Mendelssohn-Bartholdy belongs to quite another kind of art, in which the two quartets do not concert and interchange in double choir, with each other, but all eight instruments work together. This kind, although not so interesting as the double quartets, has been imitated; for the violincellist Schuberth of St. Petersburg published one of the kind at his brother’s, the music-publisher’s in Hamburg, which has been played by us in Cassel several times, and been well received.
At this time I was engaged besides on various other compositions: two pot-pourris on themes from “Jessonda” (Op. 64 and 66, at Peter’s in Leipzic), one for violin, the other for violin and violincello, both of which I played in the course of the winter in our subscription concerts. I further composed a hymn to St. Cecilia, written by Miss von Calenberg for the festival of the 22nd November, which consisted of chorus with a brilliant soprano solo, the latter very well executed upon the occasion by my eldest daughter Emilia.[28]
For the celebration of this day, which our choral society did this year for the first time, a company of about 120 persons assembled, mostly friends of the members of the society, in the Austrian saloon, which had been handsomely decorated for the occasion, and ornamented with a life-size picture of St. Cecilia. The festival began with the hymn to St. Cecilia, after which a member delivered a discourse upon the musical art, and with the most flattering expression of the thanks and acknowledgements of the society, presented me with a valuable gift, consisting of two large bronze candelabra executed by the subsequently so celebrated sculptor Henschel, and ornamented with scenes from my three operas performed here. This was followed by a “Lord’s Prayer” by Feska, the Salve regina by Hauptmann, and during the supper, some songs for male voices were sung. In the following year Hauptmann composed another hymn written by Miss von Calenberg in celebration of the name-day of our holy patroness, and as this, together with my composition, met with the same general approbation, both these pieces of music were executed in turn upon all the subsequent celebratimes of the festival. The voluntary contributions which were collected upon these occasions were applied only to charitable purposes, and the celebration of the day although sometimes interrupted by some disturbances, continued to be observed up to a late period, sometimes on a more limited and at others on a more extensive scale.
In the following year (1824) I received an invitation from Councillor Küstner, who was then director of the Leipzic theatre, to bring out my opera of “Jessonda” upon that stage. [A letter of the 14th February furnishes an account of its successful performance there on the 9th of that month: “Upon entering the orchestra I was received with general acclamation, the overture was called for again with a loud and continued da capo. Every ‘number’ was received with lively applause, and four of them called for again, of which one was a chorus, the first of the 2nd act. The greatest, and really stormy enthusiasm, was created by the duet between Amazili and Nadori. After the conclusion of the first act a speaker stood up in a box on the first tier, and addressed me in a speech in which he characterised me as a true master of German art, and called upon the audience to give me a “three times three”! This actually took place with a flourish of trumpets and kettle-drums in a tutti such as I thought would bring down the walls of the theatre. At the conclusion of the opera the same scene occurred, and the house rang with cries of “da capo Jessonda!” The day after the performance Councillor Küstner sent me double the amount of the honorarium agreed upon, and when upon my departure from the inn I was about to pay my bill, I found that it had been already settled.... Peters, the publisher of the selections from it for pianoforte, declared to me also, that after such a success of the opera, the honorarium I had fixed was too small, and that I must now permit him to fix one for it.”] On the 14th June of the same year, the opera was also produced at Frankfort, for the first time, and after that on the stage of all the principal theatres of Germany.
Some time afterwards I received the command from the Elector to write a new opera to celebrate the marriage of his daughter the Princess Marie with the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, which was to take place in the spring of 1825. The subject I had before proposed in Vienna to Theodore Körner to arrange for me, Musäus’s tale of the “Rübezahl,” now came into my mind, and I therefore applied to Mr. Edward Gehe in Dresden, who had written the libretto of “Jessonda” so much to my satisfaction. But as I could not send to him a clear outline of the scenes for the opera, not being myself as yet well decided respecting the working-up of the materials, his fancy could not assist him in the matter, and he sent me a libretto that did not all come up with my ideas, and to which I did not at all feel myself inclined to compose. I now called to mind my former kettle-drummer in the Frankfort orchestra, the already-mentioned George Döring, who was at the same time a literary man, and who since then had made himself known by several successful novels. I therefore addressed myself to him, and explained my views respecting the working-up of the “Rübezahl,” particularly pointing out to him, that as I intended this to be a grand opera, it would not be necessary to write it in rhyming verse. In Gehe’s “Rübezahl” there were many things both shallow and inappropriate, and which appeared to me as caused by the shackles imposed upon the author by the rhyme, and this Döring, by my express wish, was to avoid altogether. Although this has been greatly objected to, I am nevertheless of opinion that the want of the rhyme in my opera “Der Berggeist,” although it does not fulfill all that could be desired, is the least to be blamed for it. Although Döring’s libretto was neither altogether to my mind, yet there was no time to be lost, and less so, since this was not the only work the elector had requested me to prepare for the celebration of the marriage. I had besides to compose a grand march with introduction of the melody of the old German ballad: “Und als der Grossvater die Grossmutter nahm,” together with a torch-light-dance for fifty-three trumpeters, and two pair of kettle-drummers (for these were the numbers to be found in the music bands of the army of the Elector of Hesse); and as for the sake of the modulation I was obliged to take various tones of the trumpets, and the trumpeters of the bands not being very musical, I was obliged to practise them also beforehand in this torch-light-dance.
At the end of the year, nevertheless, I was ready with all these compositions, and could now proceed to the study of the “Berg-Geist.” Our first tenor Gerstäcker, who had been ill for some time past, had meanwhile become worse, and his malady had taken so sad a turn, that all likelihood of his being able to sing was out of the question, and we were now without a first tenor. The Elector therefore gave orders to invite some foreign singer to perform for a series of nights in his place, and we were so successful as to engage for several weeks the services of the tenorist Cornet of Hamburg, who was then in great repute, together with his betrothed, Miss Kiel of Sondershausen, who undertook the first soprano part in the new opera. Scarcely, however, had I begun the study of the work by our own theatrical company, than I received from Spontini an invitation that very much surprised me, viz. to proceed to Berlin, to direct the first representation there of the opera of “Jessonda,” fixed for the 4th of February, and to preside myself at the two last grand rehearsals. Spontini, who must often have seen himself reproached in the Berlin newspapers, for giving nothing but his own operas, and witholding other meritorious works from that stage, might have come to the idea of meeting that reproach in the most signal manner by inviting the composer of “Jessonda.” But in reality he did not seem to trouble himself much in furthering the representation of the opera; for as soon as, having obtained leave of absence, I arrived at Berlin, and waited upon Spontini, he received me in a very friendly manner, it is true, but informed me that the preparatory-rehearsals even had not yet been begun, and that he had sent me the invitation without the previous knowledge of the intendant of the royal theatre, Count Brühl. I now first sought to soften the sensitiveness of the latter on the score of such a neglect, and in order not to be obliged to return home without having effected anything, I then consulted with him on all that was necessary to expedite the representation of the opera.
In the preparatory rehearsals which now took place, I had the satisfaction of finding that the principal parts were in good hands: Bader and Blume as Nadori and Tristan, and Mdmes. Schulze and Seidler as Jessonda and Amazili, were excellent singers; the part of Dandau also was well filled by Mr. Krause, and that of Lopez, which had at first been given to a comic singer, by which the serious character of the opera would have been damaged, was taken by the baritone Devrient, after I had agreed to make some alterations in the recitatives. The opera could thus have been soon placed on the repertory, when Bader suddenly fell ill, and after his convalesence Mrs. Seidler, being seized with a hoarseness occasioned some obstruction. As the term of my leave of absence was nearly at an end, I made application for an extension of it. But the Elector had felt himself aggrieved by the obstacles thrown in my way by Spontini and the Berlin intendance, and he allowed me but a few days more, after the expiration of which I was to return, whether the opera was brought out or not. Fortunately, Mdme. Seidler got better; I could now therefore direct in person the first representation of “Jessonda” in Berlin, and be witness to its very favourable reception. Immediately after, I left, and travelled three whole nights without resting, in order to regain the time lost.
The two singers from Hamburg had arrived in the meantime, and had already performed with great applause; I could therefore begin the stage rehearsals of the “Berg-Geist” at once. But between whiles I received furthermore the elector’s order to arrange choruses for the prologue to the opera, in which were to be introduced some popular Thuringian melodies. To effect this I applied to my pupil Grund, concertmaster at Meiningen, who procured for me the desired melodies, which I then made use of in the work as well as they would admit of it.