After this merry fashion we visited every remarkable spot of the lower Harz, and then climbed the “Brocken.” When we got to the top, that which occurs to nine tenths of all travellers, befel us also; we found it envelloped in mist, and waited in vain until noon, in the hope that it would clear off and enable us to enjoy the view from the summit. We endeavoured to dispel as much of our disappointment as we could by singing, playing and looking through the pages of the many tomed “Book of the Brocken”; indeed, one of the party put our Jeremiade on this misfortune into really decent rhyme, which I immediately converted into a Canon for three voices. This was diligently practised, sung both within the “Brockenhause” and outside in the mist, and then written together with our names in the Brocken-Book, in the hope that at length the weather would clear up.[8] But in vain! We were obliged to make up our minds to continue our journey.
We now took the direction of Clausthal, and when we reached the plain, we had the mortification to see the summit of the Brocken, after we had left it about one hour, lit up with the brightest sunshine!—Arrived at Clausthal; our first care was to get rid of the unseemly growth of beard that had accrued to all during our journey, so as to reassume a somewhat more civilized appearance. We sent, therefore, for a barber, and submitted ourselves one after the other to his razor. A somewhat comical incident arose out of this operation. We had all of us more or less, a sore place under the chin from holding the violin, and I who first sat down, directed the barber’s attention to this, and begged him to go over it very lightly with his razor. As the barber found a similar sore place under the chin of each that followed, his countenance assumed more and more the grotesque expression exhibited in the disposition to whistle and smile at one and the same time, murmuring every now and then something, inwardly. Upon being asked the reason, he replied with a grave look: “Gentlemen, I see very clearly that you all belong to a secret Society, and you all carry the sign. You are Freemasons, probably, and I am right glad that I know at last how that is to be discovered!” As upon this we all broke out into a loud peal of laughter, he was at first very much disconcerted, but, nevertheless, not to be shaken in his belief.
After we had descended into a mine, and visited the smelting-huts and stamping-works, we continued our journey to Seesen, by way of Wildemann. There, we were joyfully welcomed by my parents and brothers and sister as well as by the musical friends of the little town. We had music now from morning to night, and even got up a Public concert, in which all exhibited our skill to the utmost in playing and singing. The proceeds of the concert, we presented to the School for the Poor, for the purchase of new schoolbooks.
Highly pleased with our journey we returned through Göttingen and Mühlhausen to Gotha. I yet think with emotion on the intense pleasure, with which my dear little wife welcomed me home, and never did I feel more acutely, the happiness of being loved!
At this period, a young Poet, a Candidate in Theology, who was awaiting his appointment in Gotha, offered to me an Opera he had written, to set to music, and I seized this opportunity with pleasure, to try my hand, and as I hoped with more success, in dramatic composition. The Name of the Opera was “Alruna, die Eulenkönigin” (the Owlet-Queen), it was founded on a popular tradition, and in matter had much resemblance to the “Donauweibchen”, (the Danube Water-Nymph) which at that time excited general admiration. I immediately commenced my work with great zeal, and finished the three Acts of the Opera before the end of the year. As some of the “Numbers” which I played at the Court-concerts found great favour, I was encouraged by this to offer my work for representation at the Court-Theatre in Weimar. I went thither in person to obtain a favourable reception of it from Herr von Goethe, the Intendant of the Theatre, and Frau von Heigendorf, the prima Donna and the mistress of the Duke. To the former I handed the Libretto, to the latter the Music of the Opera. As she found some brilliant parts for herself and her favorite Stromeyer, she promised to interest herself in getting the Opera accepted, and as I knew that this depended solely upon her, I returned to Gotha with the most sanguine hopes. Yet it required many reminiscences from me, and month after month passed away, until at length the study of the Opera was commenced. As this had now gone so far that a grand orchestral rehearsal could be effected, Frau von Heigendorf invited me to direct it. I therefore proceeded to Weimar a second time, and now in company with the author.
As I had written all manner of new things after I had completed the Opera, it had somewhat faded from my recollection, and I therefore thought I should be the better able to judge of it without partiality. Accordingly I was greatly preoccupied with the impression that it would make upon me.—The Rehearsal took place in a Saloon at the house of Frau von Heigendorf. Among the assembled Auditory, besides the Intendant Herr von Goethe, and the Musical Amateurs of the Town, Wieland was also present. The Singers had well studied their parts; and as the orchestra had already had one rehearsal, the Opera was right well executed under my direction. It gave general satisfaction, and the Composer was overwhelmed with congratulations. Herr von Goethe, also spoke in praise of it. The Author did not come off so well. Goethe found all manner of defects in the Libretto, and especially required that the dialogue which was written in Iambics should first be put into simple prose, and considerably curtailed before the Opera was performed. This requisition was particularly painful to the Author, as he prided himself not a little on his metrical dialogue. He nevertheless declared to me his readiness to undertake the required alteration, but on account of other pressing work, he could not set about it immediately. This was not displeasing to me, for with the exception of a few of the “Numbers”, my Music at the rehearsal in Weimar had not satisfied me, greatly as it had pleased there, and I was again tortured with the thought, that I had no talent for Dramatic music. For this reason the Opera became more and more indifferent to me, and I was glad to see that its representation would be delayed. At length the thought of seeing it represented and thus made public was so distasteful to me, that I withdrew the parts and score. Hence with the exception of the Overture which was published as Op. 21 by André in Offenbach, nothing else of it was engraved. But on the other hand, I was unjust towards this work; for it shews, compared with the first Opera, an unmistakably great progress in dramatic style.
In the year 1808, took place the celebrated Congress of Sovereigns, on which occasion, Napoleon entertained his friend the Emperor Alexander, and the Kings and Princes of Germany his Allies. The lovers of sights and the curious of the whole country round, poured in to behold the magnificence which was there displayed. In the company of some of my pupils I also made a pedestrian excursion to Erfurt, less to see the Great Ones of the earth, than to see and admire the great ones of the French Stage, Talma, and Mars. The Emperor had sent to Paris for his tragic performers, and every evening one of the classic works of Corneille or Racine was played. I and my companions had hoped to have been permitted to see one such representation, but unfortunately, I was informed that they took place for the Sovereigns and their suite only, and that every body else was excluded from them. I now hoped, with the assistance of the musicians, to obtain places in the orchestra; but in this I also failed, for they had been strictly forbidden to take any person in with them. At length it occurred to me, that I and my three pupils, by taking the places of the same number of musicians who played between the acts, might then be enabled to remain during the performance. As we were willing to pay handsomely, and the musicians knew that their substitutes would fill their places in a satisfactory manner, they gave their consent. But, now a new difficulty presented itself: three of us only could be introduced for the violins and the bass-viol; and as neither of us played any other orchestral-instrument but those, one of us of a necessity must remain excluded. The thought then struck me, to try whether I could learn sufficient of the horn, by the evening, so as to be able to undertake the part of the second hornist. I immediately prevailed upon him whose place I wished to take, to yield his horn to me; and began my studies. At first I produced the most terrific tones from it; but after about an hour, I succeeded in bringing out the natural notes of the instrument. After dinner, while my pupils went to walk, I recommenced my studies in the house of the “Stadt-Musicus”[9] and although my lips pained me very much, yet I did not rest until I could play my horn-part, perfectly, in the certainly, very easy overture and “between acts” which were to be played in the evening.
Thus prepared, I and my pupils joined the other Musicians, and as each carried his instrument under his arm, we reached our places without opposition. We found the saloon in which the theatre had been erected, already brilliantly lit up, and filled with the numerous suite of the Sovereigns. The seats for Napoleon and his guests were close behind the orchestra. Shortly after the most able of my pupils to whom I had assigned the direction of the music, and under whose leadership I placed myself as a new fledged hornist, had tuned up the orchestra; the high personages made their appearance, and the overture began. The orchestra with their faces turned towards the stage, stood in a long row, and each was strictly forbidden to turn round and look with curiosity at the Sovereigns. As I had received notice of this beforehand, I had provided myself secretly with a small looking-glass, by the help of which as soon as the music was ended, I was enabled to obtain in succession a good view of those who directed the destinies of Europe. Nevertheless, I was soon so entirely engrossed with the magnificent acting of the tragic artistes, that I abandoned my looking-glass to my pupils, and directed my whole attention to the stage.—But at every succeeding “entre-acte”, the pain of my lips increased, and at the close of the performance they had become so much swollen and so blistered, that in the evening, I could scarcely eat any supper. Even the next day, on my return to Gotha, they had a very negro-like appearance, and my young wife was not a little alarmed when she saw me; but she was yet more nettled, when in a jesting tone I said: that it was from kissing to such excess the pretty Erfurt-women! When, however, I had related to her the history of my studies on the horn, she laughed heartily at my expense.
About that time, though I do not exactly remember whether it was on that journey to Erfurt, or upon a previous one, the Emperor Napoleon slept also once in the palace at Gotha, and on that account a Court-concert had been commanded the previous evening. I and my wife had the honour to play before the allpowerful man, and he addressed a few words to us. On the following evening also, we received our share of the “Gold Napoleons” which he had left as a present to the Court-orchestra.
The Duke of Gotha was at that time high in his favour, and therefrom great advantages were expected for the Duchy. But he must have lost it afterwards by some neglect; for when the Emperor passed through on a subsequent journey, a scene occurred that filled the inhabitants of Gotha with bitter rage against the tyrant. The Emperor was expected about 11 o’clock. A breakfast had therefore been prepared in the palace at Friedrichsthal, the summer-residence of the Court, and the whole Court-circle was assembled in state-costume. The posthorses ready harnessed were waiting in the palace-square, to take the Emperor immediately after breakfast upon his farther journey.—At length, the first gun of the salute resounded above on the Friedenstein, from whence every time the Emperor passed through, 101 guns were fired. Shortly afterwards, his carriage drove up. The Duke, surrounded by his Court, already stood with uncovered head at the iron gates, approached the carriage with humble demeanour, and begged that his Imperial Majesty would deign to take breakfast. An abrupt non! and the order to his Mamelucks to put to the horses, was the reply. Without condescending any further word or look to the Duke, he leaned back in the carriage and left the Prince standing at the closed door in the most painful perplexity. The Duke turned pale with inward rage to see himself so insulted in the presence of his Court and People, and yet, had not the courage to return immediately to the palace. Thus passed in a dead silence, five or six fearfully long minutes, until the horses were put to. At the first forward movement they made, the Emperor’s head was once more visible, and with a cold nod, he drove off. The Duke, as though annihilated, returned to the palace, and the citizens loudly expressed their rage, that the overbearing Corsican should have so insulted their Prince.