From Munich, we continued our journey to Stuttgard, where we took letters of introduction to the Court. I presented these to the Court-Chamberlain, and on the following day received from him the assurance that we should be permitted to play at Court. But in the meantime I had been informed that here also cards were played during the Concerts at Court, and that little attention was paid to the Music. At Brunswick I had been already sufficiently disgusted with such a degradation of the Art, that I took the liberty to declare to the Court-Chamberlain, that I and my wife could alone appear, if the King would be graciously pleased to cease card-playing during our performance. Quite horrified at so bold a request, the Court-Chamberlain made one step backward, and exclaimed: “What? You would prescribe conditions to my gracious Master? Never should I dare make such a proposal to him!” “Then must I renounce the honour of playing at Court”, was my simple reply. And on this, I took my leave.
How the Court-Chamberlain betook himself to lay so unheard of a proposition before his Sovereign, and how the latter prevailed upon himself to yield to it, I never learned. But the result was, that the Court-Chamberlain sent to inform me: “His Majesty would be graciously pleased to grant my wish; but on the condition, that the musical pieces which I and my wife would play, should follow in quick succession, so that His Majesty would not be too frequently inconvenienced.”
And so it occurred. After the Court had taken their seats at the card-table, the Concert began with an Overture, which was followed by an aria. During this, the lacqueys moved to and fro with much noise, to offer refreshments, and the card-players called out: “I play, I pass” so loud, that one could hear nothing connectedly of the music and the singing. The Court-Chamberlain now came to inform me that I should hold myself ready. Upon this, he announced to the King, that the strangers would begin their performances. Presently, His Majesty rose from his chair, 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.