allied armies had crossed the Rhine, and it was hoped they would soon
enter Paris. In Vienna great preparations were made to celebrate that
entry, and the return of the Emperor and his victorious army. All
the Theatres, had had incidental commemorative pieces written and
composed, and the newly instituted _Society of the friends of music
of the Austrian Empire_ under the patronage of the Archduke _Rudolph_
made preparations for a monster performance of _Handel’s_ “Samson”
in the Imperial Riding-school; for which Herr _von Mosel_ increased
the instrumentation. Other Societies undertook similar performances.
This gave Herr _von Tost_ the idea of making arrangements for a grand
musical performance on the return of the Emperor, and he asked me if
I would write a Cantata for the occasion, the subject of which should
be the liberation of Germany. I willingly consented, but with the
observation, that this subject in itself offered but few favourable
passages to the composer, and that in order to obtain such, the text
should be written by a _good_ poet.
“Oh! there shall be no want of that” was the reply. “I will immediately
go to Frau _von Pichler_, and have no doubt, that she will untertake
to furnish you with the text.” And so she did. I consulted with
the authoress upon the form and contents, and she then handed me a
text-book, which in rich variety of domestic and warlike scenes
presented a succession of favourable materials for composition.
I immediately set to work upon it, and finished this Cantata, which
takes two hours to perform, in less than three months, from January
to the middle of March 1814, in the midst of all my other numerous
occupations.
Meanwhile Herr _von Tost_, had engaged the four best singers in Vienna
for the soli-parts, viz Mesdames _Buchwieser_ and _Milder_, and Messrs.
_Wild_ and _Weinmüller_, and for the choruses he purposed to combine
the whole of the church-choirs and the chorus-singers of the theatre.
The vocal parts were written and distributed, and I had already gone
several times to Madame _Milder_, to assist her in practising her part;
when, one morning Herr _von Tost_ rushed into my room and exclaimed in
despair: “I have just now had the great Redouten-Saal refused to me for
our performance, under the idle pretence that it cannot be spared on
account of the preparation for the Court-festivals! It is from sheer
jealousy alone of the Musical Society, who will not allow any other
grand performance in the Riding-school but their own. What is to be
done? Since the destruction of the Apollo Saloon, there is no locale
in Vienna except the “Great Redouten-Saal” fit for such a musical
performance.”
At the moment, the thought occured to me of the Circus of Herr _de
Bach_ in the Prater. We immediately drove out there, to see whether the
Riding-ring in the centre of the building would afford sufficient room
to hold our orchestra and the personnel of the theatre. I thought it
would, and promised myself an immense effect from the disposing of the
body of assistants in the centre of the building. But unfortunately,
this locale also, for some reason which I no longer recollect, was not
to be had, and so the whole undertaking failed, to the great grief of
Herr _von Tost_.
This Cantata shared the same fate as “Faust.” It was first produced
long after I had left Vienna. I heard it for the first time in 1815 at
the musical Festival at Frankenhausen, on the anniversary of the battle
of Leipsic.
As with me, so it fared with _Beethoven_ in a similar Festive
composition; neither, also, was his performed at that period. It was
called “Der glorreiche Augenblick”[14] and was published later with
altered text by _Haslinger_ in Vienna.
[14] “The glorious moment.”
While mentioning _Beethoven_, it occurs to me, that I have not yet
adverted to my friendly relations with that great artist, and I
therefore hasten to supply the deficiency.
Upon my arrival in Vienna I immediately paid a visit to _Beethoven_; I
did not find him at home, and therefore left my card. I now hoped to
meet him at some of the musical parties, to which he was frequently
invited, but was soon informed that, _Beethoven_ since his deafness
had so much increased that he could no longer hear music connectedly,
had withdrawn himself from all musical parties, and had become very
shy of all society. I made trial therefore of another visit; but
again without success. At length I met him quite unexpectedly at the
eating-house where I was in the habit of going with my wife every
day at the dinner hour. I had already now given concerts, and twice
performed my oratorio. The Vienna papers had noticed them favourably.
_Beethoven_ had therefore heard of me when I introduced myself to him,
and he received me with an unusual friendliness of manner. We sat down
at the same table, and _Beethoven_ became very chatty, which much
surprised the company, as he was generally taciturn, and sat gazing
listlessly before him. But it was an unpleasant task to make him hear
me, and I was obliged to speak so loud as to be heard in the third room
off. _Beethoven_ now came frequently to these dining rooms, and visited
me also at my house. We thus soon became well acquainted: _Beethoven_
was a little blunt, not to say uncouth; but a truthful eye beamed from
under his bushy eyebrows. After my return from Gotha I met him now and
then at the theatre “an der Wien”, close behind the orchestra, where
Count _Palffy_ had given him a free seat. After the opera he generally
accompanied me to my house, and passed the rest of the evening with
me. He could then be very friendly with _Dorette_ and the children. He
spoke of music but very seldom. When he did, his opinions were very
sternly expressed, and so decided as would admit of no contradiction
whatever. In the works of others, he took not the least interest; I
therefore had not the courage to shew him mine. His favorite topic of
conversation at that time was a sharp criticism of the management of
both theatres by _Prince Lobkowitz_ and Count _Palffy_. He frequently
abused the latter in so loud a tone of voice, while we were yet even
within the walls of his theatre, that not only the public leaving
it, but the Count himself could hear it in his office. This used
to embarrass me greatly, and I then always endeavoured to turn the
conversation upon some other subject.
_Beethoven’s_ rough and even repulsive manners at that time, arose
partly from his deafness, which he had not learned to bear with
resignation, and partly from the dilapidated condition of his pecuniary
circumstances. He was a bad housekeeper, and had besides the misfortune
to be plundered by those about him. He was thus frequently in want of
common necessaries. In the early part of our acquaintance, I once asked
him, after he had absented himself for several days from the dining
rooms: “You were not ill, I hope?”--“My boot was, and as I have only
one pair, I had house-arrest”, was his reply.
But some time afterwards he was extricated from this depressing
position by the exertions of his friends. The proceeding was as follows:
_Beethoven’s_ “Fidelio”, which in 1804 (or 1805) under very
unfavourable circumstances, (during the occupation of Vienna by the
French), had met with very little success, was now brought forward
again by the director of the Kärnthnerthor-Theatre and performed for
his benefit. _Beethoven_ had allowed himself to be persuaded to write
a new overture for it (in E), a song for the jailor, and the grand air
for Fidelio (with horns-obligati) as also to make some alterations.
In this new form the Opera had now great success, and kept its place
during a long succession of crowded performances. On the first night,
the composer was called forward several times, and now became again the
object of general attention. His friends availed themselves of this
favorable opportunity to make arrangements for a concert in his behalf
in the great “Redouten Saal” at which the most recent compositions of
_Beethoven_ were to be performed. All who could fiddle, blow, or sing
were invited to assist, and not one of the most celebrated artists of
Vienna failed to appear. I and my orchestra had of course also joined,
and for the first time I saw _Beethoven_, direct. Although I had heard
much of his leading, yet it surprised me in a high degree. _Beethoven_
had accustomed himself to give the signs of expression to his orchestra
by all manner of extraordinary motions of his body. So often as a
_Sforzando_ occured, he tore his arms which he had previously crossed
upon his breast, with great vehemence asunder. At a _piano_, he bent
himself down, and the lower, the softer he wished to have it. Then
when a _crescendo_ came, he raised himself again by degrees, and upon
the commencement of the _forte_, sprang bolt upright. To increase the
forte yet more, he would sometimes, also, join in with a shout to the
orchestra, without being aware of it.
Upon my expressing my astonishment to _Seyfried_, at this extraordinary
method of directing, he related to me a tragi-comical circumstance that
had occurred at _Beethoven’s_ last concert at the Theatre “an der Wien.”
_Beethoven_ was playing a new Pianoforte-Concerto of his, but forgot at
the first _tutti_, that he was a Soloplayer, and springing up, began to
direct in his usual way. At the first _sforzando_ he threw out his arms
so wide asunder, that he knocked both the lights off the piano upon
the ground. The audience laughed, and _Beethoven_ was so incensed at
this disturbance, that he made the orchestra cease playing, and begin
anew. _Seyfried_, fearing, that a repetition of the accident would
occur at the same passage, bade two boys of the chorus place themselves
on either side of _Beethoven_, and hold the lights in their hands. One
of the boys innocently approached nearer, and was reading also in the
notes of the piano-part. When therefore the fatal _sforzando_ came, he
received from _Beethoven’s_ out thrown right hand so smart a blow on
the mouth, that the poor boy let fall the light from terror. The other
boy, more cautious, had followed with anxious eyes every motion of
_Beethoven_, and by stooping suddenly at the eventful moment he avoided
the slap on the mouth. If the public were unable to restrain their
laughter before, they could now much less, and broke out into a regular
bacchanalian roar. _Beethoven_ got into such a rage, that at the first
chords of the solo, half a dozen strings broke. Every endeavour of the
real lovers of music to restore calm and attention were for the moment
fruitless. The first _allegro_ of the Concerto was therefore lost to
the public. From that fatal evening _Beethoven_ would not give another
concert.
But the one got up by his friends, was attended with the most brilliant
success. The new compositions of _Beethoven_ pleased extremely,
particularly the symphony in A-Major (the seventh); the wonderful
second theme was _encored_; and made upon me also, a deep and lasting
impression. The execution was a complete masterpiece, inspite of the
uncertain and frequently laughable direction of _Beethoven_.
It was easy to see that, the poor deaf _Maestro_ of the Piano, could
no longer hear his own music. This was particularly remarkable in a
passage in the second part of the first _allegro_ of the symphony.
At that part there are two pauses in quick succession, the second of
which, is _pianissimo_. This, _Beethoven_ had probably overlooked,
for he again began to give the time before the orchestra had executed
this second pause. Without knowing it therefore, he was already from
ten to twelve bars in advance of the orchestra when it began the
_pianissimo_. _Beethoven_, to signify this in his own way, had crept
completely under the desk. Upon the now ensuing _crescendo_, he again
made his appearance, raised himself continually more and more, and
then sprang up high from the ground, when according to his calculation
the moment for the _forte_ should begin. As this did not take place,
he looked around him in affright, stared with astonishment at the
orchestra, that it should still be playing pianissimo, and only
recovered himself, when at length the long expected _forte_ began, and
was audible to himself.
Fortunately this scene did not take place at the public performance,
otherwise the audience would certainly have laughed again.
As the saloon was crowded to overflowing and the applause enthusiastic,
the friends of _Beethoven_ made arrangements for a repetition of the
concert, which brought in an almost equally large amount. For some time
therefore _Beethoven_ was extricated from his pecuniary difficulties;
but, arising from the same causes, these reoccurred to him more than
once before his death.
Up to this period, there was no visible falling off in _Beethoven’s_
creative powers. But as from this time, owing to his constantly
increasing deafness, he could no longer hear any music, that of a
necessity must have had a prejudicial influence upon his fancy. His
constant endeavour to be original and to open new paths, could no
longer as formerly, be preserved from error by the guidance of the
ear. Was it then to be wondered at that his works became more and more
eccentric, unconnected, and incomprehensible? It is true there are
people, who imagine they can understand them, and in their pleasure
at that, rank them far above his earlier masterpieces. But I am not
of the number, and freely confess that. I have never been able to
relish the last works of _Beethoven_. Yes! I must even reckon the much
admired Ninth Symphony among them, the three first themes of which,
inspite of some solitary flashes of genius, are to me worse than all
of the eight previous Symphonies, the fourth theme of which is in my
opinion so monstrous and tasteless, and in its grasp of _Schiller’s_
Ode so trivial, that I cannot even now understand how a genius like
_Beethoven’s_ could have written it. I find in it another proof of
what I already remarked in Vienna, that _Beethoven_ was wanting in
æsthetical feeling and in a sense of the beautiful.
As at the time I made _Beethoven’s_ acquaintance, he had already
discontinued playing both in public, and at private parties; I had
therefore but one opportunity to hear him, when I casually came to the
rehearsal of a new Trio (D-Major 3/4 time) at _Beethoven’s_ house. It
was by no means an enjoyment; for in the first place the pianoforte
was woefully out of tune, which however little troubled _Beethoven_,
since he could hear nothing of it, and, secondly, of the former so
admired excellence of the virtuoso, scarcely any thing was left, in
consequence of his total deafness. In the _forte_, the poor deaf man
hammered in such a way upon the keys, that entire groups of notes were
inaudible, so that one lost all intelligence of the subject unless
the eye followed the score at the same time. I felt moved with the
deepest sorrow at so hard a destiny. It is a sad misfortune for any
one to be deaf; how then should a musician endure it without despair?
_Beethoven’s_ almost continual melancholy was no longer a riddle to me
now.
The next thing I wrote after finishing the Cantata, was a
Violin-quartett (the tenth, op. 30 published by _Mechetti_ in Vienna.)
Being very brilliant for the first violin, it was soon my hobby-horse,
and I played it times innumerable at private parties. Then followed
the Octett, in which by Herr _von Tost’s_ wish, who then contemplated
a journey to England, I took up a theme from _Handel_, varied, and
carried it out thematically, as he was of opinion it would on that
account excite great interest in that country. I also played this
composition very frequently, in which besides myself the clarinetist
_Friedlowsky_ and the hornist _Herbst_, and another whose name I now
forget, found especial opportunity to distinguish themselves.
In the autumn of 1814, the crowned heads of Europe and their Ministers
assembled in Vienna, and that famed Congress began, from which the
German nations expected to see the fulfilment of all the promises made
to them for their self devotion. A swarm of idlers and curious poured
from all parts into Vienna, to be present at the splendid festivities,
with which the Emperor was to entertain his guests. Before the
Emperor’s return to Vienna several had already taken place, which from
their magnificence yet more increased the expectation of what was to
follow. At one of these I had also assisted. It was a grand serenade in
the Court-Yard of the Burg Palace, and was given either to the Emperor
or to Prince _Schwarzenberg_, I now no longer recollect which. In the
centre of that not very large square, surrounded by lofty buildings a
raised platform was erected for the numerous personnel of the orchestra
and choruses. Upon a balcony opposite the singers, the Court and State
officials were assembled. The remaining space was filled by a numerous
public, to whom free admission had been allowed.
When I saw the locality, and the assembled crowd which had increased
to thousands, I felt alarmed, for I had promised to perform a
violin-concerto, and now feared, that my tones would be unheard, and
lost in the wide surrounding space. But to withdraw now, was no longer
possible, so I resigned myself to my fate. But every thing went off
better than I had expected. Already during the overture I remarked that
the high buildings threw back the sounds right well, and I then came
forward with renewed courage. The very first tones of my solo allayed
all my anxiety that the damp night air would affect my strings, for my
violin sounded clear and powerful as usual. As the public also, during
my play, maintained the most perfect silence, even the finest shades
of my instrumentation were every where distinctly heard. The effect,
therefore, was a very favorable one, and was acknowledged by loud and
long applause. I have never played before a more numerous nor a more
sympathetic public.
Among the many strangers attracted by the Congress were several
artists, who thought the opportunity a most favourable one to give
concerts in Vienna. In this they very much deceived themselves. For
as all the native artists gave concerts, these became so numerous
and close upon each other, that it was impossible for all to be well
attended! One that I and my wife gave on the 11. December was an
exception to this, for it attracted a numerous and brilliant audience.
I gave the overture to “Faust,” and it was received with great
approbation. The reviewer of the Musical-journal says “it increased
our desire to see this opera, which has now been ready a twelvemonth,
brought out at last.” Several lovers of art among the ambassadors
and foreign diplomatists who had heard me play for the first time at
my concert, paid me a visit, and expressed the wish to hear me in a
quartett. This was the cause of my giving several music-parties during
the Congress, and in which I played to those lovers of art the new
compositions I had written for Herr _von Tost_. I still recollect with
great satisfaction the general delight with which those productions
were received. Certainly, I was supported also, upon those occasions by
the first artists in Vienna, so that as regards execution nothing more
could be desired. I generally began with a Quartett, then followed with
a quintett, and concluded with my octett, or nonett.
Others also besides me, gave music parties to the visitors to the
Congress, among these my friend _Zizius_ particularly distinguished
himself. All the foreign artists had been introduced at his house, and
at his music parties therefore, there arose frequently a spirit of
rivalry between the native and foreign virtuosi. I there for the first
time heard _Hummel_ play his beautiful Septett, as well as several
other of his compositions of that period. But I was mostly charmed by
his improvisations in which no other Pianoforte-Virtuoso has ever yet
approached him. I especially remember with great pleasure one evening
when he improvised in so splendid a manner as I never since heard
him whether in public or in private. The company were about to break
up, when some ladies, who thought it too early, entreated _Hummel_
to play a few more walzes for them. Obliging and galant as he was to
the ladies, he seated himself at the piano, and played the wished for
walzes, to which the young folks in the adjoining room began to dance.
I, and some other artists, attracted by his play, grouped ourselves
round the instrument with our hats already in our hands, and listened
attentively. _Hummel_ no sooner observed this, than he converted his
play into a free phantasia of improvisation, but which constantly
preserved the walz-rhythm, so that the dancers were not disturbed. He
then took from me and others who had executed their own compositions
during the evening a few easily combined themes and figures, which he
interwove into his walzes and varied them at every recurrence with a
constantly increasing richness and piquancy of expression. Indeed,
at length, he even made them serve as fuge-themes, and let loose all
his science in counterpoint without disturbing the walzers in their
pleasures. Then he returned to the galant style, and in conclusion
passed into a bravoura, such as from him even has seldom been heard.
In this finale, the themes taken up were still constantly heard, so
that the whole rounded off and terminated in real artistic style. The
hearers were enraptured, and praised the young ladies’ love of dancing,
that had conduced to so rich a feast of artistic excellence.
Among the foreign artists who came to Vienna before and during the
Congress, were also, three of my former acquaintances, _Carl Maria
von Weber_, _Hermstedt_ and _Feska_. _Weber_ played with great
success and then left for Prague, whither he was summoned to direct
the opera. _Hermstedt_ came at a time, when the concerts were so
numerous, that he could not give one of his own. He played, however,
with immense applause at a concert of the flutist _Dressier_, in
which he accompanied the air with clarinet obligato in “Titus”,
accompanied and played a pot-pourri of mine which I wrote for him for
the occasion, after a new composition for harp and violin, that had
particularly pleased _Hermstedt_. Both compositions were afterwards
published; that for the clarinet with quartett-accompaniment as op. 81
at _Schlesinger’s_ in Berlin, and that for harp and violin as op. 118
by _Schuberth_ in Hamburgh.
_Feska_, who since I had known him in Magdeburgh, had become member of
the Westphalian orchestra in Cassel, and now after its dissolution had
been made Concert master at Carlsruhe, had made great progress both as
violinist and composer. His quartetts and quintetts, which he executed
in a pure, accomplished, and tasteful manner, took greatly in Vienna,
and found a ready sale among the publishers there. One of them began in
one of its themes with the notes, which form the composer’s name:
[Music]
This the auditors thought very pretty, and joked the other composers
present, _Hummel_, _Pixis_, and me, on account of our unmusical names.
This suggested the idea to me of making something musical out of my
name, with the assistance of the abbreviation formerly used of the
_piano_ into _po_, and of a quarter rest, which when written looks like
an r. It was in this form:
[Music]
and I immediately took it as a theme for a new violin-quartett, which
is the first of the three quartetts published in Vienna by _Mechetti_
as op. 29 and dedicated to _Andreas Romberg_. When I first played it at
my friend’s _Zizius_, it met with great applause, and the originality
of the theme, with its descending, diminished _Quarte_, was especially
praised. I now called together those who had previously quizzed me
for my unmusical name and _shewed_ them, (for naturally they had not
_heard_ it) the famous thema formed out of my name. They laughed
heartily at my artistic trick, and now quizzed the more both _Hummel_
and _Pixis_, who with all their skill could make nothing musical out of
their names.
* * * * *