But, without saying a word to her, he transferred the last penny he had in the world to her name, and left himself, except for his strength and fame, a pauper.  It was many years after, and then only by chance, that Caroline learned the beautiful sacrifice he had made from his great love for her.  When he reached Prague, he concealed from her all the distress he had suffered, and there was nothing but happiness in their reunion.

Returning to Dresden, he took up more seriously the composition of “Der Freischuetz.”  The first note of it that he wrote was the second act duet between Agathe and Aennchen; he took Caroline as his ideal.  Indeed, through the whole composition of the work, he declared that he saw Caroline always presiding.  He seemed to hear her voice singing every note, and saw her fingers playing it on the piano; now smiling, over what she liked; now shaking her head over what displeased her.  This spirit he took as the critic and judge of the whole work.  There have rarely been such instances of actual personal inspiration in any work of art, and certainly none which do more credit to the absorption of the artist-mind in the worship of its idol.  Furthermore, much of the composition was done at the home preparing for Caroline’s actual presence, and he wrote those suave and optimistic pages of music to an accompaniment of hammers and saws, the wrangling of carpenters, painters, upholsterers, and scrub-women; sleeping at nights in the kitchen, and glad to find a kitchen-table to compose upon.  The longed-for marriage could not take place until a court wedding for which he was writing music.  This was postponed and postponed, until he was driven to distraction.  But at last, when the royal bridegroom was sent on his way the composer fled toward Prague.  Caroline surprised him by coming part way to meet him.  On November 4, 1817, they were married.  Carl gave Caroline’s mother a pension of nine hundred thalers, though her husband and son were living.  The honeymoon was paid for by concerts here and there, in which both took part, and by a benevolent royal commission to hunt for artists.  Caroline, though her matrimonial treaty forbade her singing on the stage, was allowed to sing at concerts, and at some of them she sang duets, with Carl at the piano, while she played the guitar.

Carl had often told Caroline that she must expect a chaos in her new home in Dresden.  When she arrived, and found everything beautiful and in perfect order, she wept with rapture.  Late on the last night of the year 1817, Carl wrote in a diary these words; they show what depths there were in the soul and what heights in the ambition of one whose youth and training and early recklessness had promised so little of solidity and solemnity.

“The great important year has closed.  May God still grant me the blessing He has hitherto so graciously accorded me; that I may have the power to make the dear one happy; and, as a brave artist, bring honour and advantage to my Fatherland!  Amen!”