On the 6. November, 1808, my wife presented me with a second daughter, who was named Ida, after my wife’s step-sister Madame Hildt, who held her over the font. Her confinement passed over as lightly and happily as the former one, and during the first days the health of the invalid was excellent. This, however, induced her to leave her bed too soon, whereby she caught cold, and the sad consequences were, that she was seized with a violent nervous fever. For several days her life was in imminent danger. I left her neither by day nor night, for she would receive attention from no one but me. What I suffered at the side of her sick-bed is indiscribable! Alarmed by her fits of delirium, by the grave countenance of the physician, who shunned my interrogatories, and tortured with self-reproaches for not having taken more care of her, I had not a moment’s rest during Dorette’s illness. At length the more cheerful expression of the physician’s face betokened that the danger was passed, and I, who during the last days, first became really sensible of all I possessed in my wife, and of the intense love I bore her, now felt unspeakably happy. Her recovery progressed rapidly. Yet there was great weakness still remaining, from which Dorette was not wholly releived until the spring, when by the recommendation of the Doctor I hired a house in the country with garden attached, and by that means procured her the continual enjoyment of fresh air. Strengthened by this, she then gradually began her musical studies, which for almost six months she had been obliged to discontinue. In the Catalogue of the whole of my works, which I began shortly after my appointment in Gotha and continued up to the present time, besides those Compositions already named, dating from 1808, the following are specified: Two Duetts for violin (op. 9) and one for violin and viola (op. 13), Variations for the harp and two Quartetts for stringed instruments. In Quartetts, certainly the most difficult of all compositions, I had already made a trial the year before. But with them I succeeded no better than with Song-compositions. Shortly after their completion they no longer pleased me; and for that reason I should not have published them had not my Leipsic publisher, Herr Kühnel, at whose house I played them in the autumn of 1807, retained them almost by force, and shortly afterwards published them (as op. 4). The new Quartett (op. 15) also brought out by Kühnel, pleased me it is true somewhat longer; but at a later period when I had learned to produce a better style of Quartett-composition I regretted also that I had published them. The two first Quartetts I dedicated to the Duke of Gotha, but only at his personal request; for though I felt a pleasure in dedicating my works to Artistes and amateurs of music, as a token of my respect and friendship, yet my artistic pride would never permit me to dedicate them to Princes for profit’s sake, though even at their express desire.
At the time when the Duke invited me to dedicate my Compositions to him, he frequently used to send for me to converse with him upon his tastes in Art. As is well known, in spite of his peculiarities, he was a man of mind, and cultivated taste, which his published Poems and his Correspondance with Jean Paul sufficiently prove. But with the affairs of Government he did not in the least trouble himself, and left them entirely to the Privy-Counsellor von Frankenberg, who, therefore, was virtually the Regent of the land. Obliged pro forma to be present at the sittings of the Privy-Council, he invariably got tired of the subjects of discussion, and endeavoured to make them as short as possible, himself frequently, saying, in derision of his own want of interest “will not the Gentlemen of the Privy-Council soon be pleased to command what I am to command?”
At that time, perhaps incited by my Compositions for the voice, he was seized with the desire to have one of his longer poems, a kind of Cantata, set to music. He did me the honour to consult me on the subject. But as the Duke probably could not prevail on himself to let me see his limited knowledge of music, he applied to his old music-master, the Concert-Director Reinhard, to carry it out. From him at a later period, in an unguarded and confiding moment, I heard how the composition of the Cantata was brought about. The Duke, read to his master seated at the piano, a passage of the text, and explained to him his ideas respecting the style in which it should be composed. When the Duke had once heard or read the characteristics of the different tones, Reinhard was then obliged to strike several of them in sequent accords, so that he might find the right one for his text. If this was cheerful, a Major-Key was chosen, if it was mournful, a Minor-Key was selected. It happened one day that the Duke took the Major too sprightly, and the Minor was too mournful, upon this he required poor Reinhard to sound the Key in half Minor. When they had agreed upon this point, the melody suited to the text was next sought for. The Duke then whistled every melody that came into his head, and left his master to choose the most suitable to the character of the words. When in this manner a few lines of the poem had been disposed of, they passed on to the next. As Reinhard could not compose, or at least not arrange the instrumentation, the plan of the Cantata thus sketched out in the Duke’s leisure-hours was handed over to the “Kammer-Musicus” Backofen to complete with score. The latter, as may readily be imagined, could make but little use of the materials given to him, and was therefore obliged to recompose as it were the Cantata anew. Possessing considerable talent for composition, he accordingly put out of hand a piece of music such as could well be listened to. The work thus completed, was now written out, carefully practised under my direction, and then produced at a Court-Concert. The Duke, though he may well have been somewhat astonished that his music sounded so well, received the congratulations and praises of the Court with a satisfied mien, praised me for having so well entered into his ideas in practising it with the orchestra, and privately sent his two fellow-workmen their gratuity. In this manner all parties were satisfied.
In the winter of 1808-9, I arranged some Subscription-Concerts in the town for the benefit of the Court-Orchestra. But as these could present nothing better than was heard at the Court-Concerts, and those were much frequented by the amateurs of music of the town, for whom a large space behind the orchestra in the Concert-saloon was set apart, these Subscription concerts met with but little support. The product therefore was so small after the deduction of the expenses, that it was not considered worth while repeating the undertaking.
At one of these Concerts, Herr Hermstedt, Director of the “Harmonic-music” to Prince Sondershausen, appeared as Clarinet player, and attracted much attention by his admirable performance. He had come to Gotha to request me to write a Clarinet-concerto for him, for which the Prince upon the condition that Hermstedt should be put in possession of the manuscript, offered to pay a handsome gratuity. To this proposal I gladly assented, as from the immense execution, together with the brilliancy of tone, and purity of intonation possessed by Hermstedt, I felt at full liberty to give the reins to my fancy. After, that with Hermstedt’s assistance I had made myself somewhat acquainted with the technics of the instrument, I went zealously to work, and completed it in a few weeks. Thus originated the Concerto in E-minor, published a few years afterwards by Kühnel as op. 26, with which Hermstedt achieved so much success in his artistic tours, that it may be affirmed he is chiefly indebted to that for his fame. I took it over to him myself to Sondershausen, at the end of January, and initiated him in the way to execute it. On this occasion, I appeared also as Violinist at a concert given by Hermstedt, and played for the first time, my Concerto in G-Minor (op. 28) which I had just finished a few days before, and, also, a new Pot-pourri (op. 24).
Secretary Gerber, the author of the “Musical Lexicon”, speaks of these not only in that work, under the article “Spohr” but also in a spirited notice in the Musical-Journal, a reprint of which is to be found in number 26. of the eleventh volume. The third part of this Concerto is a Spanish Rondo, the melodies of which are not mine but genuine Spanish. I heard them from a Spanish soldier who was quartered in my house, and who sang to the guitar. I noted down what pleased me, and wove it into my Rondo. In order to give this a more Spanish character, I copied the guitar-accompaniments as I had heard them from the Spaniard, into the orchestral part. At the beginning of the same winter, I had also a visit from Reichardt, Director of the orchestra at Cassel, and then first made his personal acquaintance. Reichardt told me he was going to Vienna by the command of his Court, to engage singers for a German theatre that was about to be opened at Cassel. This, proved afterwards to be false; for Reichardt was at that very time no longer in the Westphalian service. I had felt at first much annoyed by a sharp criticism of Reichardt’s upon my play, on my first appearance at Berlin; but as I soon found that it contained many truths and well founded strictures, and that it had prompted me to correct the faults it pointed out in my execution, a sentiment of gratitude had long taken the place of my former resentment. I therefore welcomed my guest with great cordiality, and immediately arranged a musical party at my house in his honour, at which I let him hear my two new and just finished Violin-Quartetts.
As at that time I knew none of Reichardt’s compositions beyond a couple of successful songs, and looked upon the famous author of the “Confidential letter from Paris” and the dreaded Critic, as a great Composer, I set much value upon his opinion, and awaited it with a feeling of acute expectancy. I therefore again felt somewhat chafed when Reichardt had various objections to make, and expressed them sans gène. But it was perhaps more the self sufficient look of infallibility with which he pronounced his judgement, that wounded me; for some time after, I was again obliged to admit to myself, that Reichardt’s observations were in many respects just. There was one remark, which I frequently called to mind in my subsequent studies. For instance, in an Adagio, from the beginning to the end, I had carried out a figure after the style of Mozart, now in one Key, and then in the other, and in my delight at this scientific interweaving, had not remarked that it at last became monotonous. But although Reichardt praised the manner in which I had carried it through, he spoke unsparingly against it, and added more over, maliciously, “You could not rest until you had worried your motive to death!”
In the spring of 1809, from the unusual expenses attendant upon my wife’s confinement and subsequent illness, as well as those incurred by the necessary removal to another house outside the town, I found myself in such straightened circumstances, that I earnestly desired to see realised the promise of an increase of salary that had been made to me on my appointment. I therefore addressed a petition to the Duke, which as he never troubled himself with administrative matters, was without effect, and probably, was laid aside unread. I was therefore advised by the Intendant, Baron von Reibnitz to make a personal application to the Privy-Counsellor von Frankenberg and deliver to him my petition for the desired increase of salary. I followed this advice, and in the afternoon of a fine spring-day, walked over to the seat of the Privy-Counsellor, distant about two miles from Gotha, on the road to Erfurt. I found him in his garden, sitting under a large lime tree, playing chess with his daughter. As I had been familiar with this game from my early youth, played it often, and was passionately fond of it; after a short salutation of the players, I immediately directed my whole attention to the game as it stood. The Privy-Counsellor observing this, had a chair placed for me close to the table, and quietly played on. When I first arrived, the game looked very threatening for the daughter, and it was not long before she was checkmated by her father. I had taken particular notice of the position of the pieces, and in so doing, a move had suggested itself to me by which the checkmate could have been prevented. I represented this, and was immediately challenged by the Privy-Counsellor, who thought himself sure of the victory, to try it. The pieces were again replaced in the position they stood when I arrived, and I now took the daughter’s game. After a few well combined moves I succeeded in extricating my King from all danger, and I then played against my opponent with such success, that he was soon obliged to confess himself beaten. The Privy-Counsellor, though somewhat nettled at his defeat, was nevertheless much struck with the unexpected issue of the game. He held out his hand to me in a friendly manner and said: “You are a capital Chess-player, and must often do me the pleasure of playing with me.” This I did; and as I was world-wise enough not to win too many games, I soon got in great favour with my new patron; the result was, that a rescript, for an additional two hundred thalers to my salary was soon made out.