A curious episode in Weber's life was his connection with the royal
family of Würtemberg, where he found a dissolute, poverty-stricken
court, and a whimsical, arrogant, half-crazy king. Here he remained
four years in a half-official musical position, his nominal duty being
that of secretary to the king's brother, Prince Ludwig. This part of
his career was almost a sheer waste, full of dreary and irritating
experiences, which Weber afterwards spoke of with disgust and regret.
His spirit revolted from the capricious tyranny which he was obliged
to undergo, but circumstances seem to have coerced him into a
protracted endurance of the place. His letters tell us how bitterly he
detested the king and his dull, pompous court, though Prince Ludwig in
a way seemed to have been attached to his secretary. One of his
biographers says:--
"Weber hated the king, of whose wild caprice and vices he
witnessed daily scenes, before whose palace-gates he was
obliged to slink bareheaded, and who treated him with
unmerited ignominy. Sceptre and crown had never been
imposing objects in his eyes, unless worn by a worthy man;
and consequently he was wont, in the thoughtless levity of
youth, to forget the dangers he ran, and to answer the king
with a freedom of tone which the autocrat was all unused to
hear. In turn he was detested by the monarch. As negotiator
for the spendthrift Prince Ludwig, he was already obnoxious
enough; and it sometimes happened that, by way of variety to
the customary torrent of invective, the king, after keeping
the secretary for hours in his antechamber, would receive
him only to turn him rudely out of the room, without hearing
a word he had to say."
At last Karl Maria's indignation burst over bounds at some unusual
indignity; and he played a practical joke on the king. Meeting an old
woman in the palace one day near the door of the royal sanctum, she
asked him where she could find the court-washerwoman. "There," said
the reckless Weber, pointing to the door of the king's cabinet. The
king, who hated old women, was in a transport of rage, and, on her
terror-stricken explanation of the intrusion, had no difficulty in
fixing the mischief in the right quarter. Weber was thrown into
prison, and had it not been for Prince Ludwig's intercession he would
have remained there for several years. While confined he managed to
compose one of his most beautiful songs, "Ein steter Kampf ist unser
Leben." He had not long been released when he was again imprisoned on
account of some of his father's wretched follies, that arrogant old
gentleman being utterly reckless how he involved others, so long as he
carried out his own selfish purposes and indulgence. His friend Danzi,
director of the royal opera at Stuttgart, proved his good genius in
this instance; for he wrangled with the king till his young friend was
released.
Weber's only consolations during this dismal life in Stuttgart were
the friendship of Danzi, and his love for a beautiful singer named
Gretchen. Danzi was a true mentor and a devoted friend. He was wont to
say to Karl--"To be a true artist, you must be a true man." But the
lovely Gretchen, however she may have consoled his somewhat arid life,
was not a beneficial influence, for she led him into many sad
extravagances and an unwholesome taste for playing the cavalier.
In spite of his discouraging surroundings, Weber's creative power was
active during this period, and showed how, perhaps unconsciously to
himself, he was growing in power and depth of experience. He wrote the
cantata, "Der erste Ton," a large number of songs, the first of his
great piano sonatas, several overtures and symphonies, and the opera
"Sylvana" ("Das Waldmädchen" rewritten and enlarged), which, both in
its music and libretto, seems to have been the precursor of his great
works, "Der Freischütz" and "Euryanthe." At the first performance of
"Sylvana" in Frankfort, September 16, 1810, he met Miss Caroline
Brandt, who sang the principal character. She afterwards became his
wife, and her love and devotion were the solace of his life.
Weber spent most of the year 1810 in Darmstadt, where he again met
Vogler and Meyerbeer. Vogler's severe artistic instructions were of
great value to Weber in curbing his extravagance, and impressing on
him that restraint was one of the most valuable factors in art. What
Vogler thought of Weber we learn from a letter in which he
writes--"Had I been forced to leave the world before I found these
two, Weber and Meyerbeer, I should have died a miserable man."