Gleanings of Musical Fact and Anecdote--Haydn in Bonn--A Rhine
Journey--Abbé Sterkel--Beethoven Extemporises--Social and
Artistic Life in Bonn--Eleonore von Breuning--The Circle of
Friends--Beethoven Leaves Bonn Forever--The Journey to Vienna.
As a pendant to the preceding sketches of Bonn’s musical history a
variety of notices belonging to the last three years of Beethoven’s
life in his native place are here brought together in chronological
order. Most of them relate to him personally, and some of them, through
errors of date, have been looked upon hitherto as adding proofs of the
precocity of his genius.
Prof. Dr. Wurzer communicated to the “Kölnische Zeitung” of August 30,
1838, the following pleasant anecdote:
In the summer of the year 1790 or 1791 I was one day on business
in Godesberger Brunnen. After dinner Beethoven and another young
man came up. I related to him that the church at Marienforst (a
cloister in the woods behind Godesberg) had been repaired and
renovated, and that this was also true of the organ, which was
either wholly new or at least greatly improved. The company begged
him to give them the pleasure of letting them hear him play on
the instrument. His great good nature led him to grant our wish.
The church was locked, but the prior was very obliging and had it
unlocked for us. B. now began to play variations on themes given
him by the party in a manner that moved us profoundly; but what
was much more significant, poor laboring folk who were cleaning
out the débris left by the work of repair, were so greatly
affected by the music that they put down their implements and
listened with obvious pleasure. _Sit ei terra levis!_
JOSEPH HAYDN’S VISIT TO BONN
The greatest musical event of the year (1790) in Bonn occurred just at
its close--the visit of Joseph Haydn, on his way to London with Johann
Peter Salomon, whose name so often occurs in the preliminary chapters
of this work. Of this visit, Dies has recorded Haydn’s own account:
In the capital, Bonn, he was surprised in more ways than one. He
reached the city on Saturday [Christmas, December 25] and set
apart the next day for rest. On Sunday, Salomon accompanied
Haydn to the court chapel to listen to mass. Scarcely had the two
entered the church and found suitable seats when high mass began.
The first chords announced a product of Haydn’s muse. Our Haydn
looked upon it as an accidental occurrence which had happened only
to flatter him; nevertheless it was decidedly agreeable to him
to listen to his own composition. Toward the close of the mass a
person approached and asked him to repair to the oratory, where
he was expected. Haydn obeyed and was not a little surprised when
he found that the Elector, Maximilian, had had him summoned, took
him at once by the hand and presented him to the virtuosi with the
words: “Here I make you acquainted with the Haydn whom you all
revere so highly.” The Elector gave both parties time to become
acquainted with each other, and, to give Haydn a convincing proof
of his respect, invited him to dinner. This unexpected invitation
put Haydn into an embarrassing position, for he and Salomon had
ordered a modest little dinner in their lodgings, and it was too
late to make a change. Haydn was therefore fain to take refuge
in excuses which the Elector accepted as genuine and sufficient.
Haydn took his leave and returned to his lodgings, where he was
made aware in a special manner of the good will of the Elector, at
whose secret command the little dinner had been metamorphosed into
a banquet for twelve persons to which the most capable musicians
had been invited.
Was the young musician one of these “most capable musicians”? Sunday
evening, March 6th, came the performance of Beethoven’s music to the
“Ritterballet” before noticed; but without his name being known.
Bossler’s “Musikalische Correspondenz” of July 13, 1791, contains
a list of the “Cabinet, Chapel and Court Musicians of the Elector
of Cologne.” Names designated by an asterisk were “solo players
who may justly be ranked with virtuosi”; two asterisks indicated
composers. Four names only--those of Joseph Reicha, Perner and the
two Rombergs--have the two stars; Beethoven has none. “Hr. Ludwig van
Beethoven plays pianoforte concertos; Hr. Neefe plays accompaniments
at court and in the theatre and at concerts.... Concertante violas are
played by virtuoso violinists”--that is all, except that we learn that
the Elector is losing interest in the instrument on which Beethoven
played in the orchestra: “His Electoral Highness of Cologne seldom
plays the viola nowadays, but finds amusement at the pianoforte with
operas, etc., etc.”
At Mergentheim, the capital of the Teutonic Order, a grand meeting of
commanders and knights took place in the autumn of 1791, the Grand
Master Maximilian Francis presiding, and the sessions continuing from
September 18 to October 20, as appears from the records at Vienna. The
Elector’s stay there seems to have been protracted to a period of at
least three months. During his visit there of equal length two years
before, time probably dragged heavily, so this time ample provision
was made for theatrical and musical amusement. Among the visiting
theatrical troupes was one called the “Häusslersche Gesellschaft,”
which played in summer at Nuremberg, in winter in Münster and
Eichstädt. The entrepreneur was Baron von Bailaux, the chapelmaster
Weber, the elder; and among the personnel were Herr Weber, the younger,
and Madame Weber. From Max Weber’s biography of his father it appears
that these Webers were the brother and sister-in-law of Carl Maria von
Weber, then a child of some five years. “The troupe,” says the reporter
of the “Theater-Kalender,” “performs the choicest pieces and the
grandest operas.” So the father, Franz Anton von Weber, must have found
himself at length in his own proper element, and still more so a year
later, when he himself became the manager.
This company for a time migrated to Mergentheim and resumed the title
of “Kurfürstliches Hoftheater.” Beethoven soon came thither also. Did
he, when in after years he met Carl Maria von Weber, remember him as a
feeble child at Mergentheim? Had his intercourse there with Fridolin
von Weber, pupil of Joseph Haydn, any influence upon his determination
soon after to become also that great master’s pupil?
AN EXPEDITION UP THE RHINE
Simonetti, Maximilian’s favorite and very fine tenor concert-singer,
and some twenty-five members of the electoral orchestra, with Franz
Ries as conductor--Reicha was too ill--including Beethoven, the two
Rombergs and the fine octet of wind-instruments, formed an equally
ample provision for the strictly musical entertainments. Actors,
singers, musicians--Simonetti and the women-singers excepted--most
of them still young, all in their best years and at the age for its
full enjoyment, made the journey in two large boats up the Rhine and
Main. Before leaving Bonn the company assembled and elected Lux king
of the expedition, who in distributing the high offices of his court
conferred upon Bernhard Romberg and Ludwig van Beethoven the dignity
of, and placed them in his service as, kitchen-boys--scullions. It
was the pleasantest season of the year for such a journey, the summer
heats being tempered by the coolness of the Rhine and the currents of
air passing up and down the deep gorge of the river. Vegetation was at
its best and brightest, and the romantic beauty of its old towns and
villages had not yet suffered either by the desolations of the wars
soon to break upon them or by the resistless and romance-destroying
march of “modern improvement.” Coblenz and Mayence were still capitals
of states, and the huge fortress Rheinfels was not yet a ruin. When
Risbeck passed down the Rhine ten years before, his boat “had a mast
and sail, a flat deck with a railing, comfortable cabins with windows
and some furniture, and in a general way in style was built like a
Dutch yacht.” In boats like this, no doubt, the jolly company made the
slow and, under the circumstances, perhaps, tedious journey against the
current of the “arrowy Rhine.” But a glorious time and a merry they
had of it. Want of speed was no misfortune to them, and in Beethoven’s
memory the little voyage lived bright and beautiful and was to him “a
fruitful source of loveliest visions.”
The Bingerloch was then held to be a dangerous, as it certainly was
a difficult pass for boats ascending; for here the river, suddenly
contracted to half its previous width, plunged amid long lines of
rugged rocks into the gorge. So, leaving the boats to their conductors,
the party ascended to the Niederwald; and there King Lux raised
Beethoven to a higher dignity in his court--Wegeler does not state what
it was--and confirmed his appointment by a diploma, or letters patent,
dated on the heights above Rüdesheim. To this important document was
attached by thread ravelled from a sail, a huge seal of pitch, pressed
into the cover of a small box, which gave to the instrument a right
imposing look--like the Golden Bull at Frankfort. This diploma from the
hand of his comic majesty was among the articles taken by the possessor
to Vienna where Wegeler saw it, still carefully preserved, in 1796.
At Aschaffenburg on the Main was the large summer palace of the
Electors of Mainz; and here dwelt Abbé Sterkel, now a man of 40
years; a musician from his infancy, one of the first pianists of all
Germany and without a rival in this part of it, except perhaps Vogler
of Mannheim. His style both as composer and pianist had been refined
and cultivated to the utmost, both in Germany and Italy, and his
playing was in the highest degree light, graceful, pleasing--as Ries
described it to Wegeler, “somewhat ladylike.” Ries and Simrock took
the young Romberg and Beethoven to pay their respects to the master,
“who, complying with the general request, sat himself down to play.
Beethoven, who up to this time,” says Wegeler, “had not heard a great
or celebrated pianoforte player, knew nothing of the finer nuances in
the handling of the instrument; his playing was rude and hard. Now he
stood with attention all on a strain by the side of Sterkel”; for this
grace and delicacy, if not power of execution, which he now heard were
a new revelation to him. After Sterkel had finished, the young Bonn
concertplayer was invited to take his place at the instrument; but he
naturally hesitated to exhibit himself after such a display. The shrewd
Abbé, however, brought him to it by a pretence of doubting his ability.
BEETHOVEN’S MEETING WITH STERKEL
A year or two before, Chapelmaster Vincenzo Righini, a colleague of
Sterkel in the service of the Elector of Mayence, had published “Dodeci
Ariette,” one of which, “Vieni (Venni) Amore,” was a melody with
five vocal variations, to the same accompaniment. Beethoven, taking
this melody as his theme, had composed, dedicated to the Countess of
Hatzfeld and published twenty-four variations for the pianoforte upon
it. Some of these were very difficult, and Sterkel now expressed his
doubts if their author could himself play them. His honor thus touched,
“Beethoven played not only these variations so far as he could remember
them (Sterkel could not find them), but went on with a number of
others no less difficult, all to the great surprise of the listeners,
perfectly, and in the ingratiating manner that had struck him in
Sterkel’s playing.”[43]
Once in Mergentheim the merry monarch and his jolly subjects had other
things to think of and seem to have made a noise in the world in
more senses than one. At all events Carl Ludwig Junker, Chaplain at
Kirchberg, the residence of Prince Hohenlohe, heard of them and then
went over to hear them. Junker was a dilettante composer and the author
of some half-dozen small works upon music--musical almanacs published
anonymously, and the like, all now forgotten save by collectors, as
are his pianoforte concertos--but at that time he was a man of no
small mark in the musical world of Western Germany. He came over
to Mergentheim, was treated with great attention by the Elector’s
musicians, and showed his gratitude in a long letter to Bossler’s
“Correspondenz” (November 23, 1791), in which superlatives somewhat
abound, but which is an exquisite piece of gossip and gives the
liveliest picture that exists of the “Kapelle.” We have room for only a
portion of it:
Here I was also an eye-witness to the esteem and respect in which
this chapel stands with the Elector. Just as the rehearsal was to
begin Ries was sent for by the Prince, and upon his return brought
a bag of gold. “Gentlemen,” said he, “this being the Elector’s
name-day he sends you a present of a thousand thalers.” And again,
I was eye-witness of this orchestra’s surpassing excellence.
Herr Winneberger, Kapellmeister at Wallenstein, laid before it
a symphony of his own composition, which was by no means easy
of execution, especially for the wind-instruments, which had
several solos _concertante_. It went finely, however, at the first
trial, to the great surprise of the composer. An hour after the
dinner-music the concert began. It was opened with a symphony of
Mozart; then followed a recitative and air sung by Simonetti;
next, a violoncello concerto played by Herr Romberger [Bernhard
Romberg]; fourthly, a symphony by Pleyel; fifthly, an air by
Righini, sung by Simonetti; sixthly, a double concerto for violin
and violoncello played by the two Rombergs; and the closing piece
was the symphony of Winneberger, which had very many brilliant
passages. The opinion already expressed as to the performance
of this orchestra was confirmed. It was not possible to attain
a higher degree of exactness. Such perfection in the _pianos_,
_fortes_, _rinforzandos_--such a swelling and gradual increase of
tone and then such an almost imperceptible dying away, from the
most powerful to the lightest accents--all this was formerly to
be heard only in Mannheim. It would be difficult to find another
orchestra in which the violins and basses are throughout in such
excellent hands.... The members of the chapel, almost without
exception, are in their best years, glowing with health, men of
culture and fine personal appearance. They form truly a fine
sight, when one adds the splendid uniform in which the Elector has
clothed them--red, and richly trimmed with gold.
I heard also one of the greatest of pianists--the dear, good
Bethofen, some compositions by whom appeared in the Spires
“Blumenlese” in 1783, written in his eleventh year. True, he
did not perform in public, probably the instrument here was not
to his mind. It is one of Spath’s make, and at Bonn he plays
upon one by Steiner. But, what was infinitely preferable to me,
I heard him extemporize in private; yes, I was even invited to
propose a theme for him to vary. The greatness of this amiable,
light-hearted man, as a virtuoso, may in my opinion be safely
estimated from his almost inexhaustible wealth of ideas, the
altogether characteristic style of expression in his playing, and
the great execution which he displays. I know, therefore, no one
thing which he lacks, that conduces to the greatness of an artist.
I have heard Vogler upon the pianoforte--of his organ playing I
say nothing, not having heard him upon that instrument--have often
heard him, heard him by the hour together, and never failed to
wonder at his astonishing execution; but Bethofen, in addition to
the execution, has greater clearness and weight of idea, and more
expression--in short, he is more for the heart--equally great,
therefore, as an _adagio_ or _allegro_ player. Even the members of
this remarkable orchestra are, without exception, his admirers,
and all ears when he plays. Yet he is exceedingly modest and free
from all pretension. He, however, acknowledged to me, that, upon
the journeys which the Elector had enabled him to make, he had
seldom found in the playing of the most distinguished virtuosos
that excellence which he supposed he had a right to expect. His
style of treating his instrument is so different from that usually
adopted, that it impresses one with the idea, that by a path
of his own discovery he has attained that height of excellence
whereon he now stands.
Had I acceded to the pressing entreaties of my friend Bethofen, to
which Herr Winterberger added his own, and remained another day
in Mergentheim, I have no doubt he would have played to me hours;
and the day, thus spent in the society of these two great artists,
would have been transformed into a day of the highest bliss.
There is one passage in this exceedingly valuable and interesting
letter which, in the present state of knowledge of Beethoven’s youth,
is utterly inexplicable. It is this: “Yet he is exceedingly modest and
free from all pretension. He, however, acknowledged to me that upon the
journeys which the Elector had enabled him to make, he had seldom found
in the playing of the most distinguished virtuosos that excellence
which he supposed he had a right to expect.” What were the journeys?
Who can tell?
There is but one more to add to these musical reminiscences of that
period--another visit of Joseph Haydn, who, having changed the plan
of his route, returned in July _via_ Bonn from London to Vienna.
The electoral orchestra gave him a breakfast at Godesberg and there
Beethoven laid before him a cantata “which received the particular
attention of Haydn, who encouraged its author to continue study.” It is
not improbable that the arrangements were in part now made under which
the young composer became a few months later the pupil of the veteran.
Many a eulogy has been written upon Max Franz for his supposed
protection of, and favors granted to, the young Beethoven. It has,
however, already been made clear that except the gracious reprimand at
the time when the singer Heller was made the subject of the boy’s joke,
all the facts and anecdotes upon which those eulogies are based belong
to a much later than the supposed period. The appointment of Beethoven
as Chamber Musician (1789) was no distinguishing mark of favor. Half a
dozen other youths of his age shared it with him. His being made Court
Pianist was a matter of course; for whom had he as a rival? Had he been
in any great degree a favorite of the Elector, what need had there been
of his receiving from Waldstein, as Wegeler states, “much pecuniary
assistance bestowed in such a way as to spare his sensibilities, it
being generally looked upon as a small gratuity from the Elector?” One
general remark may be made here which has a bearing upon this point,
namely: that Beethoven’s dedications of important works throughout his
life were, as a rule, made to persons from whom he had received, or
from whom he had hopes of receiving, pecuniary benefits. Indeed, in one
notable case where such a dedication produced him nothing, he never
forgot nor forgave the omission. Had he felt that Maximilian was in any
single instance really generous toward him, why did he never dedicate
any work to him? Why in all the correspondence, private memoranda and
recorded conversations, which have been examined for this work, has
Beethoven never mentioned him either in terms of gratitude, or in
any manner whatever? All idea that his relations to the Elector were
different from those of Bernhard Romberg, Franz Ries or Anton Reicha,
must be given up. He was organist, pianist, member of the orchestra;
and for these services received his pay like others. There is no proof
of more, no indication of less.
But with Waldstein, the case was otherwise. The young count, eight
years older than Beethoven, coming direct from Vienna, where his family
connections gave him access to the salons of the very highest rank of
the nobility, was thoroughly acquainted with the noblest and best that
the imperial capital could show in the art of music. Himself more than
an ordinary dilettante, he could judge of the youth’s powers and became
his friend. We have seen that he used occasionally to go to the modest
room in the Wenzelgasse, that he even employed Beethoven to compose his
“Ritterballet” music, and we shall see, that he foretold the future
eminence of the composer and that the name, Beethoven, would stand
next those of Mozart and Haydn on the roll of fame. Waldstein’s name,
too, is in Beethoven’s roll of fame; it stands in the list of those to
whom important works are dedicated. The dedication of the twenty-four
variations on “Venni Amore” to the Countess Hatzfeld indicates, if
it does not prove, that Beethoven’s deserts were neither unknown nor
unacknowledged at her house.
At that time the favorite places of resort for the professors of
the new university and for young men whose education and position
at court or in society were such as to make them welcome guests,
was the house on the Market-place now known as the Zehrgarten; and
there, says Frau Karth, Beethoven was in the habit of going. A large
portion of this house was let in lodgings, and it is said that Eugène
Beauharnais, with his wife and children, at one time occupied the
first floor. Its mistress was the Widow Koch who spread also a table
for a select company of boarders. Her name, too, often appears in the
“Intelligenzblatt” of Bonn in advertisements of books and music. Of her
three children, a son and two daughters, the beautiful Barbara--the
Babette Koch mentioned in a letter of Beethoven’s--was the belle of
Bonn. Wegeler’s eulogy of her (“Notizen,” p. 58) contains the names of
several members of that circle whom, doubtless, the young composer so
often met at the house.
BARBARA KOCH; ELEONORE VON BREUNING
She was a confidential friend of Eleonore von Breuning, a lady
who of all the representatives of the female sex that I met
in a rather active and long life came nearest the ideal of a
perfect woman--an opinion which is confirmed by all who had the
good fortune to know her well. She was surrounded not only by
young artists like Beethoven, the two Rombergs, Reicha, the twin
brothers Kügelchen and others, but also by the intellectual men
of all classes and ages, such as D. Crevelt, Prof. Velten, who
died early, Fischenich, who afterward became Municipal Councillor,
Prof. Thaddäus Dereser, afterward capitular of the cathedral,
Wrede, who became a bishop, Heckel and Floret, secretaries of
the Elector, Malchus, private secretary of the Austrian minister
von Keverberg, later Government Councillor of Holland, Court
Councillor von Bourscheidt, Christian von Breuning and many others.
About the time Beethoven left Bonn for Vienna, the wife of Count
Anton von Belderbusch, nephew of the deceased minister of that
name, had deserted her husband for the embraces of a certain Baron
von Lichtenstein, and Babette Koch was engaged as governess and
instructress of the motherless children. In process of time Belderbusch
obtained a divorce (under the French law) from his adulterous wife and
married the governess, August 9, 1802.
BEETHOVEN IN THE BREUNING HOUSE
But it was in the Breuning house that Beethoven enjoyed and profited
most. The mother’s kindness towards him gave her both the right and
the power to urge and compel him to the performance of his duties; and
this power over him in his obstinate and passionate moods she possessed
in a higher degree than any other person. Wegeler gives an anecdote
in point: Baron Westphal von Fürstenberg, until now in the service
of the Elector, was appointed minister to the Dutch and Westphalian
Circuit and to the courts of Cologne and Trèves, his headquarters
being at Bonn. He resided in the large house which is now occupied by
the post-office, directly behind the statue of him who was engaged as
music teacher in the count’s family. The Breuning house was but a few
steps distant diagonally across a corner of the square. Here Madame
von Breuning was sometimes compelled to use her authority and force
the young man to go to his lessons. Knowing that she was watching him
he would go, _ut iniquæ mentis asellus_, but sometimes at the very
door would turn back and excuse himself on the plea that to-day it was
impossible to give a lesson--to-morrow he would give two; to which, as
upon other occasions when reasoning with him was of no avail, the good
lady would shrug her shoulders with the remark: “He has his _raptus_
again,” an expression which the rapt Beethoven never forgot. Most
happy was it for him that in Madame von Breuning he had a friend who
understood his character thoroughly, who cherished affection for him,
who could and did so effectually act as peace-maker when the harmony
between him and her children was disturbed. Schindler is a witness that
just for this phase of her motherly care Beethoven, down to the close
of life, was duly grateful.
In his later days he still called the members of this family his
guardian angels of that time and remembered with pleasure the
many reprimands which he had received from the lady of the house.
“She understood,” said he, “how to keep insects off the flowers.”
By insects he meant certain friendships which had already begun
to threaten danger to the natural development of his talent and
a proper measure of artistic consciousness by awakening vanity
in him by their flatteries. He was already near to considering
himself a famous artist, and therefore more inclined to give heed
to those who encouraged him in his illusions than such as set
before him the fact that he had still to learn everything that
makes a master out of a disciple.
This is well said, is very probable in itself, and belongs in the
category of facts as to which Schindler is a trustworthy witness.
Stephan von Breuning became so good a violinist as to play occasionally
in the electoral orchestra. As he grew older, and the comparative
difference in age between him and Beethoven lessened, the acquaintance
between them became one of great intimacy. Frau Karth says he was a
frequent visitor in the Wenzelgasse, and she had a lively recollection
of “the noise they used to make with their music” in the room overhead.
Lenz, the youngest of the Breunings, was but fifteen when his teacher
left Bonn, but a few years after he became a pupil of Beethoven again
in Vienna and became a good pianist. For him the composer seems to have
cherished a warm affection, one to which the seven years’ difference
in their ages gave a peculiar tenderness. It has been supposed that
Beethoven at one time indulged a warmer feeling than mere friendship
for Eleonore von Breuning; but this idea is utterly unsupported by
anything which has been discovered during the inquiries made for this
work.
Beethoven’s remarkable powers of improvising were often exhibited at
the Breuning house. Wegeler has an anecdote here:
Once when Beethoven was improvising at the house of the Breunings
(on which occasions he used frequently to be asked to characterize
in the music some well-known person) Father Ries was urged to
accompany him upon the violin. After some hesitation he consented,
and this may have been the first time that two artists improvised
a duo.
Beethoven had in common with all men of original and creative genius
a strong repugnance to the drudgery of forcing the elements of his
art into dull brains and awkward fingers; but that this repugnance
was “extraordinary,” as Wegeler says, does not appear. A Frau von
Bevervörde, one of his Bonn pupils, assured Schindler that she never
had any complaint to make of her teacher in respect to either the
regularity of his lessons or his general course of instruction. Nor is
there anything now to be gathered from the traditions at Vienna which
justifies the epithet. Ries’s experience is not here in point, for his
relations to Beethoven were like those of little Hummel to Mozart.
He received such instruction gratis as the master in leisure moments
felt disposed to give. There was no pretence of systematic teaching at
stated hours. The occasional neglect of a lesson at Baron Westphal’s,
as detailed in the anecdote above given, may be explained on other
ground than that of extraordinary repugnance to teaching. Beethoven
was, in 1791-’92, just at the age when the desire for distinction
was fresh and strong; he was conscious of powers still not fully
developed; his path was diverse from that of the other young men with
whom he associated and who, from all that can be gathered now on the
subject, had little faith in that which he had chosen. He must have
felt the necessity of other instruction, or, at all events, of better
opportunities to compare his powers with those of others, to measure
himself by a higher standard, to try the effect of his compositions in
another sphere, to satisfy himself that his instincts as a composer
were true and that his deviations from the beaten track were not wild
and capricious. Waldstein, we know from Wegeler (and this is confirmed
by his own words), had faith in him and his works, and it will be seen
that another, Fischenich, had also. But what would be said of him and
his compositions in the city of Mozart, Haydn, Gluck? To this add the
restlessness of an ambitious youth to whom the routine of duties, which
must long since in great measure have lost the charm of novelty, had
become tedious, and the natural longing of young men for the great
world, for a wider field of action, had grown almost insupportable.
BEETHOVEN’S SWEETHEARTS IN BONN
Or Beethoven’s _raptus_ may just then have had a very different origin;
Jeannette d’Honrath, or Fräulein Westerhold, was perhaps the innocent
cause--two young ladies whose names are preserved by Wegeler of the
many for whom he says his friend at various times indulged transient,
but not the less ardent, passions. The former was from Cologne, whence
she occasionally came to Bonn to pass a few weeks with Eleonore von
Breuning.
“She was a beautiful, vivacious blond, of good education,” says
Wegeler, “and amiable disposition, who enjoyed music greatly and
possessed an agreeable voice; wherefore she several times teased
our friend by singing a song, familiar at the time, beginning:
‘Mich heute noch von dir zu trennen
Und dieses nicht verhindern können,
Ist zu empfindlich für mein Herz!’
for the favored rival was the Austrian recruiting officer in
Cologne, Carl Greth, who married the young lady and died on
October 15, 1827, as Field Marshal General, Commander of the 23rd
Regiment of Infantry and Commandant at Temesvar.”[44]
The passion for Miss d’Honrath was eclipsed by a subsequent fancy
for a Fräulein von Westerhold. The Court Calendars of these years
name “Hochfürstlich Münsterischer Obrist-Stallmeister, Sr. Excellenz
der Hochwohlgeborne Herr Friedrich Rudolph Anton, Freyherr von
Westerhold-Giesenberg, kurkölnischer und Hochstift-Münsterischer
Geheimrath.” This much betitled man, according to Neefe (Spazier’s
“Berlin. Mus. Zeitung”),
played the bassoon himself and maintained a fair band among his
servants, particularly players of wind-instruments. He had two
sons, one of whom was a master of the flute, and two daughters.
The elder daughter--the younger was still a child--Maria Anna
Wilhelmine, was born on July 24, 1774, married Baron Friedrich
Clemens von Elverfeldt, called von Beverföde-Werries, on April 24,
1792, and died on November 3, 1852. She was an excellent pianist.
In Münster, Neefe heard “the fiery Mad. von Elverfeldt play a
difficult sonata by Sardi (not Sarti) with a rapidity and accuracy
that were marvellous.”
It is not surprising that Beethoven’s talent should have met with
recognition and appreciation in this musical family. He became the
young woman’s teacher, and as the chief equerry Count Westerhold had
to accompany the Elector on his visits to Münster, where, moreover, he
owned a house, there is a tradition in the family that young Beethoven
went with them before the young lady’s marriage in 1790. She it was
with whom Beethoven was now in love. He had the disease violently, nor
did he “let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud,” feed upon his cheek.
Forty years afterward Bernhard Romberg had anecdotes to relate of this
“Werther love.”
The strong doubt that any such feeling for Eleonore von Breuning was
ever cherished by Beethoven has already been expressed. The letters to
her from Vienna printed by Wegeler, and other correspondence still in
manuscript, confirm this doubt by their general tone; but that a really
warm friendship existed between them and continued down to the close
of his life, with a single interruption just before he left Bonn, of
the cause of which nothing is known, so much is certain. Among the few
souvenirs of youthful friendship which he preserved was the following
compliment to him on his twentieth birthday, surrounded by a wreath of
flowers:
ZU B’S GEBURTSTAG VON SEINER SCHÜLERIN.
Glück und langes Leben
Wünsch ich heute dir;
Aber auch daneben
Wünsch ich etwas mir!
Mir in Rücksicht deiner
Wünsch ich deine Huld,
Dir in Rücksicht meiner
Nachsicht und Geduld.
1790
Von Ihrer Freundin u. Schülerin
Lorchen von Breuning.[45]
Another was a silhouette of Fräulein von Breuning. Referring to
Beethoven’s allusion to this in a letter to Wegeler (1825) the latter
says: “In two evenings the silhouettes of all the members of the von
Breuning family and more intimate friends of the house, were made by
the painter Neesen of Bonn. In this way I came into the possession of
that of Beethoven which is here printed. Beethoven was probably in his
sixteenth year at the time”;--far more probably in his nineteenth, the
reader will say.
To the point of Beethoven’s susceptibility to the tender passion let
Wegeler again be cited:
The truth as I learned to know it, and also my brother-in-law
Stephan von Breuning, Ferdinand Ries, and Bernhard Romberg, is
that there was never a time when Beethoven was not in love,
and that in the highest degree. These passions, for the Misses
d’Honrath and Westerhold, fell in his transition period from youth
to manhood, and left impressions as little deep as were those
made upon the beauties who had caused them. In Vienna, at all
events so long as I lived there, Beethoven was always in love and
occasionally made a conquest which would have been very difficult
if not impossible for many an Adonis.
A review of some of the last pages shows that for the most part after
1789 the life of Beethoven was a busy one, but that the frequent
absences of the Elector, as recorded in the newspapers of the day, left
many a period of considerable duration during which, except for the
meetings of the orchestra for rehearsal and study, he had full command
of his time. Thus he had plenty of leisure hours and weeks to devote
to composition, to instruction in music, for social intercourse, for
visits to Kerpen and other neighboring places, for the indulgence of
his strong propensity to ramble in the fields and among the mountains,
for the cultivation in that beautiful Rhine region of his warm passion
for nature.
The new relations to his father and brothers, as virtual head of the
family, were such as to relieve his mind from anxiety on their account.
His position in society, too, had become one of which he might justly
be proud, owing, as it was, to no adventitious circumstances, but
simply to his genius and high personal character. Of illness in those
years we hear nothing, except Wegeler’s remark (“Notizen,” 11): “When
the famous organist Abbé Vogler played in Bonn (1790 or 1791) I sat
beside Beethoven’s sickbed”; a mere passing attack, or Wegeler would
have vouchsafed it a more extended notice in his subsequent remarks
upon his friend’s health. Thus these were evidently happy years, in
spite of certain characteristic and gloomy expressions of Beethoven
in letters hereafter to be given, and years of active intellectual,
artistic and moral development.
THE SUGGESTION OF HAYDN AS TEACHER
The probability that in July, 1792, it had been proposed to Haydn to
take Beethoven as a pupil has been mentioned; but it is pretty certain
that the suggestion did not come from the Elector, who, there is little
doubt, was in Frankfort at the coronation of his nephew Emperor Franz
(July 14) at the time of Haydn’s visit. The indefatigable Karajan[46]
is unable to determine precisely when the composer left London or
reached Vienna; but it is known he was in the former city after July
1st and in the latter before August 4th. Whatever arrangements may have
been made between the pupil and master, they were subject to the will
of the Elector, and here Waldstein may well have exerted himself to his
protégé’s advantage. At all events, the result was favorable and the
journey determined upon. Perhaps, had Haydn found Maximilian in Bonn,
he might have taken the young man with him; as it was, some months
elapsed before his pupil could follow.
Some little space must be devoted to the question, whence the pecuniary
resources for so expensive a journey to and sojourn in Vienna were
derived. The good-hearted Neefe did not forget to record the event in
very flattering terms when he wrote next year in Spazier’s “Berliner
Musik-Zeitung”:
In November of last year Ludwig van Beethoven, assistant court
organist and unquestionably now one of the foremost pianoforte
players, went to Vienna _at the expense of our Elector_ to Haydn
in order to perfect himself under his direction more fully in the
art of composition.
In a note he adds:
Inasmuch as this L. v. B. according to several reports is said to
be making great progress in art and owes a part of his education
to Herr Neefe in Bonn, to whom he has expressed his gratitude
in writing, it may be well (Herr N’s modesty interposing no
objection) to append a few words here, since, moreover, they
redound to the credit of Herr B.: “I thank you for your counsel
very often given me in the course of my progress in my divine art.
If ever I become a great man, yours will be some of the credit.
This will give you the greater pleasure, since you can remain
convinced, etc.”
THE LIMIT OF MAXIMILIAN’S FAVOR
“At the expense of our Elector”--so says Neefe; so, too, Fischenich
says of Beethoven “whom the Elector has sent to Haydn in Vienna.”
Maximilian, then, had determined to show favor to the young musician.
This idea is confirmed by Beethoven’s noting, in the small memorandum
book previously referred to, the reception soon after reaching Vienna
of 25 ducats and his disappointment that the sum had not been a
hundred. (A receipt for his salary, 25 th. for the last quarter of
this year, still in the Düsseldorf archives, is dated October 22, and
seems at first sight to prove an advance per favor; but many others
in the same collection show that payments were usually made about the
beginning of the second month of each quarter.) There is also a paper
in the Düsseldorf collection, undated, but clearly only a year or two
after Beethoven’s departure, by which important changes are made in
the salaries of the Elector’s musicians. In this list Beethoven does
not appear among those paid from the _Landrentmeisterei_ (i.e., the
revenues of the state), but is to receive from the _Chatouille_ (privy
purse) 600 florins--a sum equivalent to the hundred ducats which he had
expected in vain. It is true these changes were never carried out, but
the paper shows the Elector’s intentions.
With such facts before us, how is Beethoven to be relieved of the
odium of ingratitude to his benefactor? By the circumstance that, for
anything that appears, the good intentions of the Elector--excepting
in an increase of salary hereafter to be noted, and the transmission of
the 25 ducats--were never carried out; and the young musician, after
receiving his quarterly payment two or three times, was left entirely
dependent upon his own resources. Maximilian’s justification lies in
the sea of troubles by which he was so soon to be overwhelmed.
That the 100 ducats were not advanced to Beethoven before leaving Bonn
is easily accounted for. In October, 1792, the French revolutionary
armies were approaching the Rhine. On the 22nd they entered Mayence;
on the 24th and 25th the archives and funds of the court at Bonn
were packed up and conveyed down the Rhine. On the 31st the Elector,
accompanied by the Prince of Neuwied, reached Cleve on his first flight
from his capital. It was a time of terror. All the principal towns of
the Rhine region, Trèves, Coblenz, etc., even Cologne, were deserted
by the higher classes of the inhabitants. Perhaps it was owing to this
that Beethoven obtained permission to leave Bonn for Vienna just then
instead of waiting until the approaching theatrical and musical season
had passed. But with the treasury removed to Düsseldorf, he had to
content himself with just sufficient funds to pay his way to Vienna and
the promise of more to be forwarded thither.
Beethoven’s departure from Bonn called forth lively interest on the
part of his friends. The plan did not contemplate a long sojourn in
the Austrian capital; it was his purpose, after completing his studies
there, to return to Bonn and thence to go forth on artistic tours.[47]
This is proved by an autograph album dating from his last days in
Bonn, which some of his intimate friends, obviously those with whom
he was wont to associate at the Zehrgarten, sent with him on his way,
now preserved in the Imperial Library at Vienna. The majority of the
names are familiar to us, but many which one might have expected to
find, notably those of the musicians of Bonn, are missing. Eleonore von
Breuning’s contribution was a quotation from Herder:
Freundschaft, mit dem Guten,
Wächset wie der Abendschatten,
Bis des Lebens Sonne sinkt.[48]
Bonn, den 1. November Ihre wahre Freundin Eleonore
1792 Breuning.
Most interesting of all the inscriptions in the album, however, is
that of Count Waldstein, which was first published by Schindler (Vol.
I, p. 18) from a copy procured for him by Aloys Fuchs. It proves how
great were the writer’s hopes, how strong his faith in Beethoven:
Dear Beethoven! You are going to Vienna in fulfillment of your
long-frustrated wishes. The Genius of Mozart is mourning and
weeping over the death of her pupil. She found a refuge but no
occupation with the inexhaustible Haydn; through him she wishes to
form a union with another. With the help of assiduous labor you
shall receive _Mozart’s spirit from Haydn’s hands_.
Your true friend
Waldstein.
Bonn, October 29, 1792.
The dates in the album prove that Beethoven was still in Bonn on
November 1, 1792, and indicate that it was the last day of his sojourn
there. In Duten’s “Journal of Travels,” as translated and augmented by
John Highmore, Gent. (London, 1782)--a Baedeker’s or Murray’s handbook
of that time--the post-road from Bonn to Frankfort-on-the-Main is laid
down as passing along the Rhine _via_ Andernach to Coblenz, and thence,
crossing the river at Ehrenbreitstein, _via_ Montabaur, Limburg,
Würges and Königstein;--corresponding to the route advertised in the
“Intelligenzblatt” a few years later--time 25 hours, 43 minutes.
THE JOURNEY TO VIENNA
This was the route taken by Beethoven and some unknown companion.
Starting from Bonn at 6 a.m. they would, according to Dutens and
Highmore, dine at Coblenz about 3 p.m. and be in Frankfort about 7 next
morning.
The first three pages of the memorandum book above cited contain a
record of the expenses of this journey as far as Würges. One of the
items is this: “Trinkgeld (_pourboire_) at Coblenz because the fellow
drove like the devil right through the Hessian army at the risk of
a cudgelling, one small thaler.” This army marched from Coblenz on
November 5; but on the same day a French corps, having advanced from
Mayence beyond Limburg, took possession of Weilburg. The travellers
could not, therefore, have journeyed through Limburg later than the
night of the 3rd. We conclude, then, that it was between November 1st
and 3rd that Beethoven bade farewell to Bonn, and at Ehrenbreitstein
saw Father Rhine for the last time.
The temptation is too strong to be resisted to add here the contents of
the three pages of the memorandum book devoted to this journey, and the
reasonings--fancies, if the reader prefers the term--drawn from them,
upon which is founded the assertion that Beethoven had a travelling
companion. This is probable in itself, and is confirmed by, first, two
handwritings; second, the price paid for post-horses (thus, the first
entry is for a station and a quarter at 50 _Stüber_, the regular price
being one florin, or 40 _Stüber_ per horse for a single passenger;
there were, therefore, two horses and 10 _Stüber_ extra per post for
the second passenger); third, the word “us” in the record of the
_Trinkgeld_ at Coblenz; fourth, the accounts cease at Würges, but they
would naturally have been continued to Vienna had they been noted down
by Beethoven from motives of economy; fifth, the payment of 2 fl. for
dinner and supper is certainly more than a young man, not overburdened
with money, would in those days have spent at the post-house.
We may suppose, then, that the companions have reached the end of their
journey in common, and sit down to compute and divide the expenses.
Beethoven hands his blank-book to his friend, who writes thus:
(Page 1) From Bonn to Remagen, 1-1/4 Stat, at 50 Stbr. 3 fl.
From Remag. to Andernach, 1-1/2 St. 3.45
Tip 45
Tolls 45
From Andernach to Coblenz, 1 St. 3.
Tips to Andernach 50
„ to Coblenz
Tolls to Andernach 42
Tolls to Coblenz
These last three items are not carried out, and Beethoven now takes the
book and adds the items of the “Tolls to Andernach” thus:
Sinzig 7 St(über) Reinicke 5 St.
Preissig 10 St. Norich 4-1/2 St.
These 26 Stüber, changed into Kreutzers, make up the 42 in the column
above. On the next page he continues:
(Page 2) Coblenz, tolls 30 x
Rothehahnen (Red Cocks) 24 x
Coblenz to Montebaur 2 rthlr. and 1/2 d
Tolls for Coblenz 48 x
Tip because the fellow drove like the devil right
through the Hessian army at the risk of a
cudgelling one small thaler
Ate dinner 2 fl.
Post from Montebaur to Limburg 3 fl. 57 x
10 x road money
15 x „ „
(Page 3) Supper 2 fl.
in Limburg 12 Batzen
Tips 14 x
Grease money 14 x
Tip for postillion 1 fl.
The other hand now writes:
The same money for meals and tips, besides 12 x
road money to Wirges.
The entries of the second and third pages are now changed into florin
currency and brought together, making 22 fl. and 14 x; add the expenses
on the first page to this sum and we have a total of about 35 fl. from
Bonn to Würges for two young men travelling day and night, and no doubt
as economically as was possible.
The next entries are by Beethoven’s hand in Vienna, and we are left
to imagine his arrival in Frankfort and his departure thence _via_
Nuremberg, Regensburg, Passau and Linz in the public post-coach for
Vienna. Proof will be found hereafter that he was in that city on or
before November 10th, and that Schindler (Vol. I, p. 19) therefore
confounds this journey with that of 1787, and is all wrong when he says
“they travelled very slowly and the money which they had taken along
was exhausted before they had traversed half the journey.”
FOOTNOTES:
[43] Wegeler’s story of the meeting between Beethoven and Sterkel is
confirmed in every detail by a letter from N. Simrock to Schindler, a
copy of which was found among the posthumous papers of Thayer.
[44] In one of the Beethoven conversation books, _anno_ 1823, may
be read in Schindler’s handwriting: “Captain v. Greth’s address,
Commandant in Temesvar.”
[45] From the Fischoff Manuscript. The verbal play can scarcely be
given in English rhymed couplets. The sentiment is: “Happiness and
long life I wish you to-day, but something do I crave for myself from
you--your regard, your forbearance and your patience.”
[46] “J. Haydn in London,” page 53.
[47] Neefe relates that on his second visit to England, Haydn had
contemplated taking Beethoven with him.
[48] “Friendship, with that which is good, grows like the evening
shadow till the setting of the sun of life.”