Beethoven in Society--Concerts--Wegeler’s
Recollections--Compositions--The First Trios--Sonatas Dedicated to
Haydn--Variations--Dances for the Ridotto Rooms--Plays at Haydn’s
Concert.
However quiet and “without observation” Beethoven’s advent in Vienna
may have been at that time when men’s minds were occupied by movements
of armies and ideas of revolution, he could hardly have gone thither
under better auspices. He was Court Organist and Pianist to the
Emperor’s uncle; his talents in that field were well known to the many
Austrians of rank who had heard him in Bonn when visiting there or
when paying their respects to the Elector in passing to and from the
Austrian Netherlands; he was a pupil of Joseph Haydn--a circumstance
in itself sufficient to secure him a hearing; and he was protected
by Count Waldstein, whose family connections were such that he could
introduce his favorite into the highest circles, the imperial house
only excepted. Waldstein’s mother was a Liechtenstein; his grandmother
a Trautmannsdorf; three of his sisters had married respectively
into the families Dietrichstein, Crugenburg and Wallis; and by the
marriages of uncles and aunts he was connected with the great houses
Oettingen-Spielberg, Khevenhüller-Melisch, Kinsky, Palfy von Erdöd and
Ulfeld--not to mention others less known. If the circle be extended
by a degree or two it embraces the names Kaunitz, Lobkowitz, Kohary,
Fünfkirchen, Keglevics and Colloredo-Mansfeld.
Dr. Burney, in closing his “Present State of Music in Germany,” notes
the distinction in the styles of composition and performance in some
of the principal cities of that country, “Vienna being most remarkable
for fire and animation; Mannheim for neat and brilliant execution;
Berlin for counterpoint and Brunswick for taste.” Since Burney’s tour
(1772) Vienna had the highest example of all these qualities united
in Mozart. But he had passed away, and no great pianist of the first
rank remained; there were extraordinary dilettanti and professional
pianists “of very neat and brilliant execution,” but none who possessed
great “fire, animation and invention,” qualities still most valued in
Vienna and in which the young Beethoven, with all the hardness and
heaviness of manipulation caused by his devotion to the organ, was
wholly unrivalled. With all the salons in the metropolis open to him,
his success as a virtuoso was, therefore, certain. All the contemporary
authorities, and all the traditions of those years, agree in the fact
of that success, and that his playing of Bach’s preludes and fugues
especially, his reading of the most difficult scores at sight and
his extemporaneous performances excited ever new wonder and delight.
Schindler records that van Swieten, after musical performances at his
house, “detained Beethoven and persuaded him to add a few fugues by
Sebastian Bach as an evening blessing,” and he preserves a note without
date, though evidently belonging to Beethoven’s first years in Vienna,
which proves how high a place the young man had then won in the old
gentleman’s favor:
To Mr. Beethoven in Alstergasse, No. 45, with the Prince
Lichnowsky: If there is nothing to hinder next Wednesday I should
be glad to see you at my home at half past 8 with your nightcap in
your bag. Give me an immediate answer.
Swieten.
There is also an entry in the oft-cited memorandum book belonging
in date to October or November, 1793, which may be given in this
connection: “Supped in the evening at Swieten’s, 17 pourboire. To the
janitor 4 x for opening the door.”
THE THREE TRIOS, OP. 1
But the instant and striking success of Beethoven as virtuoso by no
means filled up the measure of his ambition. He aspired to the higher
position of composer, and to obtain this more was needed than the
performance of variations, however excellent. To this end he selected
the three Trios afterwards published as Op. 1, and brought them
to performance at the house of Prince Lichnowsky. Happily for us,
Beethoven related some particulars concerning this first performance of
these compositions in Vienna to his pupil Ries, who gives the substance
of the story thus:
It was planned to introduce the first three Trios of Beethoven,
which were about to be published as Op. 1, to the artistic world
at a soirée at prince Lichnowsky’s. Most of the artists and
music-lovers were invited, especially Haydn, for whose opinion
all were eager. The Trios were played and at once commanded
extraordinary attention. Haydn also said many pretty things about
them, but advised Beethoven not to publish the third, in C minor.
This astonished Beethoven, inasmuch as he considered the third
the best of the Trios, as it is still the one which gives the
greatest pleasure and makes the greatest effect. Consequently,
Haydn’s remark left a bad impression on Beethoven and led him to
think that Haydn was envious, jealous and ill-disposed toward him.
I confess that when Beethoven told me of this I gave it little
credence. I therefore took occasion to ask Haydn himself about
it. His answer, however, confirmed Beethoven’s statement; he said
he had not believed that this Trio would so quickly and easily be
understood and so favorably received by the public.
The Fischoff manuscript says:
The three Trios for pianoforte, violin and violoncello, Op. 1
(the pearls of all sonatas), which are in fact his sixth work,
justly excited admiration, though they were performed in only a
few circles. Wherever this was done, however, connoisseurs and
music-lovers bestowed upon them undivided applause, which grew
with the succeeding works as the hearers not only accustomed
themselves to the striking and original qualities of the master
but grasped his spirit and strove for the high privilege of
understanding him.
More than two years passed by, however, before the composer thought
fit to send these Trios to the press; perhaps restrained by a feeling
of modesty, since he was still a student, perhaps by a doubt as to the
success of compositions so new in style, or by prudence, choosing to
delay their publication until they had been so often performed from
the manuscript as to secure their comprehension and appreciation, and
thus an adequate number of subscribers. In the meantime he prepared
the way for them by publishing a few sets of variations. “Beethoven
had composed variations on themes from Mozart’s ‘Zauberflöte,’ which
he had already sketched in Bonn, and Zmeskall took it upon himself
to submit them to a publisher; but they had only a small sale.” (The
Fischoff MS.) This refers doubtless to the Variations “Se vuol ballare”
from “Le Nozze di Figaro,” which, having been revised and improved by
a new coda, came out in July, 1793, with a dedication to Eleonore von
Breuning. It was not until the next year that the thirteen variations
upon the theme “Es war einmal ein alter Mann,” from Dittersdorf’s
“Rothkäppchen,” appeared, and these were followed by those for four
hands on the Waldstein theme, first advertised in January, 1795.
In fact, Beethoven evidently was in no haste to publish his
compositions. It will presently be seen that he sent the “Se vuol
ballare” variations to press partly at the request of others and partly
to entrap the rival pianists of Vienna. A few years later we shall
find him dashing off and immediately publishing variations on popular
theatrical melodies; but works of greater scope, and especially his
pianoforte concertos, were for the most part long retained in his
exclusive possession. Thus the Pianoforte Concerto in B-flat major,
Op. 18, though supposed by Tomaschek to have been composed at Prague
in 1798, certainly (if Beethoven’s own words in a letter to Breitkopf
and Härtel are to be believed) preceded in composition that in C major,
Op. 15, and must, therefore, have been finished at the latest in March,
1795, and was doubtless often played by him at private concerts during
the period now before us. It was not published until 1801.
Let the reader now recall to mind some of the points previously dwelt
upon: the Fischenich letter of January and Neefe’s letter of October,
1793, which record the favorable reports sent to Bonn of Beethoven’s
musical progress; his studies with Haydn and Schenk; the cares and
perplexities caused him temporarily by the death of his father, and
the unpleasant circumstances attending that event; his steady success
as a virtuoso; his visit in the summer to Prince Esterhazy; and it is
obvious with what industry and energy he engaged in his new career,
with what zeal and unfaltering activity he labored to make the most of
his opportunities. In one year after leaving Bonn he felt his success
secure, and no longer feared Hamlet’s “slings and arrows of outrageous
fortune.” This is indicated in a passage (“O, how we shall then rejoice
together,” etc.) of the earliest of his Vienna letters which has been
preserved--that letter in which, as Wegeler remarks, “he asked pardon
for much more error than he had committed,” and which, though often
reprinted from the “Notizen,” is too important and characteristic to be
here omitted.
BEETHOVEN SUES FOR PARDON
Vienna, November 2, 93.
Most estimable Leonore!
My most precious friend!
Not until I have lived almost a year in the capital do you receive
a letter from me, and yet you were most assuredly perpetually in
my liveliest memory. Often in thought I have conversed with you
and your dear family, though not with that peace of mind which I
could have desired. It was then that the wretched misunderstanding
hovered before me and my conduct presented itself as most
despicable. But it was too late. O, what would I not give could I
obliterate from my life those actions so degrading to myself and
so contrary to my character. True, there were many circumstances
which tended to estrange us, and I suspect that tales whispered
in our ears of remarks made one about the other were chiefly
that which prevented us from coming to an understanding. We both
believed that we were speaking from conviction; whereas it was
only in anger, and we were both deceived. Your good and noble
character, my dear friend, is sufficient assurance to me that
you forgave me long ago. But we are told that the sincerest
contrition consists in acknowledgment of our faults; and to
do this has been my desire. And now let us drop the curtain on
the affair, only drawing from it this lesson--that when friends
quarrel it is much better to have it out face to face than to turn
to a go-between.
With this you will receive a dedication from me to you concerning
which I only wish that the work were a larger one and more worthy
of you. I was plagued here to publish the little work, and I took
advantage of the opportunity, my estimable E., to show my respect
and friendship for you and my enduring memory of your family. Take
this trifle and remember that it comes from a friend who respects
you greatly. Oh, if it but gives you pleasure, my wishes will
be completely fulfilled. Let it be a reminder of the time when
I spent so many and such blessed hours at your home. Perhaps it
will keep me in your recollection until I eventually return to
you, which, it is true, is not likely to be soon. But how we shall
rejoice then, my dear friend--you will then find in your friend a
happier man, from whose visage time and a kindlier fate shall have
smoothed out all the furrows of a hateful past.
If you should chance to see B. Koch, please say to her that it is
not nice of her never once to have written to me. I wrote to her
twice and three times to Malchus, but no answer. Say to her that
if she doesn’t want to write she might at least urge Malchus to
do so. In conclusion I venture a request; it is this: I should
like once again to be so happy as to own a waistcoat knit of
hare’s wool by your hands, my dear friend. Pardon the immodest
request, my dear friend, but it proceeds from a great predilection
for everything that comes from your hands. Privately I may also
acknowledge that a little vanity is also involved in the request;
I want to be able to say that I have something that was given me
by the best and most estimable girl in Bonn. I still have the
waistcoat which you were good enough to give me in Bonn, but it
has grown so out of fashion that I can only treasure it in my
wardrobe as something very precious because it came from you. You
would give me much pleasure if you were soon to rejoice me with a
dear letter from yourself. If my letters should in any way please
you I promise in this to be at your command so far as lies in my
power, as everything is welcome to me which enables me to show how
truly I am
Your admiring,
true friend
L. v. Beethoven.
P.S. The V. [variations] you will find a little difficult to play,
especially the trills in the _coda_; but don’t let that alarm you.
It is so contrived that you need play only the trill, leaving out
the other notes because they are also in the violin part. I never
would have composed a thing of the kind had I not often observed
that here and there in Vienna there was somebody who, after I had
improvised of an evening, noted down many of my peculiarities,
and made parade of them next day as his own. Foreseeing that
some of these things would soon appear in print, I resolved to
anticipate them. Another reason that I had was to embarrass the
local pianoforte masters. Many of them are my deadly enemies and
I wanted to revenge myself on them, knowing that once in a while
somebody would ask them to play the variations and they would make
a sorry show with them.
Except Beethoven’s memorandum, “Schuppanzigh 3 times each W.;
Albrechtsberger 3 times each W.”, which indicates his change of
instructors, there is nothing to be recorded until, probably in May
or June (1794), we come to the fragment of another letter to Eleonore
von Breuning also contained in Wegeler’s “Notizen” (p. 60), which
has particular interest both as showing how bitterly his conscience
reproached him for acts inconsistent with the forbearance and command
of temper due to friendship, but in which he ever remained too apt
to indulge, and as adding some implied confirmation of the argument
previously made in relation to the compositions of the Bonn period. In
this letter he acknowledges receipt of a cravat embroidered by Eleonore
and protests that thoughts of her generosity and his unworthiness had
brought him to tears. He continues: “Do pray believe me that little as
I have deserved it, _my friend_ (let me always call you such), I have
suffered much and still suffer from the loss of your friendship.... As
a slight return for your kind recollection of me I take the liberty of
sending these Variations and the Rondo with violin (accompaniment).
I have a great deal to do or I should have transcribed the Sonata I
promised you long ago. It is a mere sketch in manuscript, and to copy
it would be a difficult, etc.” The letter is signed: “The friend who
still reveres you, Beethowen” (_sic_).[70]
In January, 1794, Elector Max had paid a short visit to Vienna, where,
perhaps, it was determined that Beethoven should remain “without salary
until recalled.” After the declaration of war by the Empire against
France, the electorate, as a German state, could no longer remain
neutral; and thus it came to pass that in October the victorious French
army marched into Bonn. The Elector fled to Frankfort-on-the-Main,
November 6th, thence to Münster, while his court and all such as were
obnoxious to the republican authorities dispersed in all directions for
safety.
One of these fugitives, a young man of twenty-nine years but already
the Rector of the University, to “save his head” hastened away to
Vienna--Dr. Wegeler. He reached that capital in October and found
Beethoven not in the “room on the ground floor” where “it was not
necessary to pay the housekeeper more than 7 florins,” but living as
a guest in the family of Prince Karl Lichnowsky; and this explains
sufficiently the cessation of those records of monthly payments before
noticed.
DR. WEGELER’S REMINISCENCES
The reminiscences of Wegeler for the period of his stay in Vienna,
excepting those which may be better introduced chronologically in
other connections, may well find place here. They are interesting and
characteristic in themselves and indicate, also, the great change for
the better in Beethoven’s pecuniary condition; for a man who keeps a
servant and a horse cannot, if honest, be a sufferer from poverty:
Carl, Prince of Lichnowsky, Count Werdenberg, Dynast Granson, was
a very great patron, yes, a friend of Beethoven’s, who took him
into his house as a guest, where he remained at least a few years.
I found him there toward the end of the year 1794, and left him
there in the middle of 1796. Meanwhile, however, Beethoven had
almost always a home in the country.
The Prince was a great lover and connoisseur of music. He played
the pianoforte, and by studying Beethoven’s pieces and playing
them more or less well, sought to convince him that there was no
need of changing anything in his style of composition, though the
composer’s attention was often called to the difficulties of his
works. There were performances at his house every Friday morning,
participated in by four hired musicians--Schuppanzigh, Weiss,
Kraft and another (Link?), besides our friend; generally also an
amateur, Zmeskall. Beethoven always listened with pleasure to the
observations of these gentlemen. Thus, to cite a single instance,
the famous violoncellist Kraft in my presence called his attention
to a passage in the finale of the Trio, Op. 1, No. 3, to the fact
that it ought to be marked “sulla corda G,” and the indication 4-4
time which Beethoven had marked in the finale of the second Trio,
changed to 2-4. Here the new compositions of Beethoven, so far
as was feasible, were first performed. Here there were generally
present several great musicians and music-lovers. I, too, as long
as I lived in Vienna, was present, if not every time, at least
most of the time.
Here a Hungarian count once placed a difficult composition by
Bach in manuscript before him which he played _a vista_ exactly
as Bach would have played it, according to the testimony of
the owner. Here the Viennese author Förster once brought him a
quartet of which he had made a clean copy only that morning. In
the second portion of the first movement the violoncello got
out. Beethoven stood up, and still playing his own part sang the
bass accompaniment. When I spoke about it to him as a proof of
extraordinary acquirements, he replied with a smile: “The bass
part _had_ to be so, else the author would have known nothing
about composition.” To the remark that he had played a _presto_
which he had never seen before so rapidly that it must have been
impossible to see the individual notes, he answered: “Nor is
that necessary; if you read rapidly there may be a multitude of
typographical errors, but you neither see nor give heed to them,
so long as the language is a familiar one.”
After the concert the musicians generally stayed to dine. Here
there gathered, in addition, artists and savants without regard to
social position. The Princess Christiane was the highly cultivated
daughter of Count Franz Joseph von Thun, who, a very philanthropic
and respectable gentleman, was disposed to extravagant enthusiasm
by his intercourse with Lavater, and believed himself capable of
healing diseases through the power of his right hand.
The following undated letter also belongs to the years of Beethoven’s
intimate association with Wegeler in Vienna (1794-96). It is
significant of Beethoven’s character. Though easily offended and prone
to anger, no sooner was the first ebullition of temper past than he was
so reconciliatory and open to explanation that usually his contrition
was out of all proportion to his fault. For this reason, and because
it presents the friend in a light which provoked a protest from his
modesty, Wegeler was unwilling to make public the entire letter.[71]
CONFESSION, CONTRITION, PETITION
Dearest! Best! In what an odious light you have exhibited me to
myself! I acknowledge it, I do not deserve your friendship. You
are so noble, so considerate, and the first time that I ranged
myself alongside of you I fell so far below you! Ah, for weeks
I have displeased my best and noblest friend! You think that I
have lost some of my goodness of heart, but, thank Heaven! it was
no intentional or deliberate malice which induced me to act as I
did towards you; it was my inexcusable thoughtlessness which did
not permit me to see the matter in its true light. O, how ashamed
I am, not only for your sake but also my own. I can scarcely
trust myself to ask for your friendship again. Oh, Wegeler, my
only comfort lies in this, that you have known me almost from my
childhood, and yet, O let me say for myself, I was always good,
and always strove to be upright and true in my actions--otherwise
how could you have loved me? Could I have changed so fearfully
for the worse in such a short time? Impossible; these feelings
of goodness and love of righteousness cannot have died forever
in me in a moment. No, Wegeler, dearest, best, O, venture again
to throw yourself entirely into the arms of your B.; trust in
the good qualities you used to find in him; I will guarantee
that the pure temple of sacred friendship which you erect shall
remain firm forever; no accident, no storm shall ever shake its
foundations--firm--forever--our friendship--pardon--oblivion--a
new upflaming of the dying, sinking friendship--O, Wegeler, do
not reject this hand of reconciliation. Place yours in mine--O,
God!--but no more; I am coming to throw myself in your arms, to
entreat you to restore to me my lost friend. And you will give
yourself to me, your penitent, loving, never-forgetting
Beethoven again.
It was only now that I received your letter, because I have just
returned home.
In this connection Wegeler comes to speak of the outward conditions of
Beethoven: “Beethoven,” he says on page 33,
brought up under extremely restricted circumstances, and as it
were, under guardianship, though that of his friends, did not
know the value of money and was anything but economical. Thus,
to cite a single instance, the Prince’s dinner hour was fixed at
4 o’clock. “Now,” said Beethoven, “it is desired that every day
I shall be at home at half-past 3, put on better clothes, care
for my beard, etc.--I can’t stand that!” So it happened that he
frequently went to the taverns, since, as has been said, in this
as in all other matters of economy, he knew nothing about the
value of things or of money. The Prince, Wegeler continues, who
had a loud, metallic voice, once directed his serving-man that if
ever he and Beethoven should ring at the same time the latter was
to be first served. Beethoven heard this, and the same day engaged
a servant for himself. In the same manner, once when he took a
whim to learn to ride, which speedily left him, the stable of the
Prince being offered him, he bought a horse.
Concerning his friend’s affairs of the heart, Wegeler had opportunity
to make observations in Vienna. He relates on page 43 that while he was
in the capital Beethoven “was always in love and made many conquests
which would have been difficult if not impossible for many an Adonis.”
Beethoven’s antipathy to teaching before he left Bonn has already been
noticed. In Vienna he developed a still stronger repugnance to playing
in society when requested to do so. He often complained to Wegeler how
grievously this put him out of sorts, whereupon the latter sought to
entertain him and quiet him by conversation. “When this purpose was
reached,” he continues,
I dropped the conversation, seated myself at the writing table,
and Beethoven, if he wanted to continue the discourse, had to
sit down on the chair before the pianoforte. Soon, still turned
away from the instrument, he aimlessly struck a few chords out of
which gradually grew the most beautiful melodies. Oh, why did I
not understand more of music! Several times I put ruled paper upon
the desk as if without intention, in order to get a manuscript
of his; he wrote upon it but then folded it up and put it in his
pocket! Concerning his playing I was permitted to say but little,
and that only in passing. He would then go away entirely changed
in mood and always come back again gladly. The antipathy remained,
however, and was frequently the cause of differences between
Beethoven and his friends and well-wishers.
OLD BONN FRIENDS REMEMBERED
There is still one other reminiscence of Wegeler in the appendix to the
“Notizen” (page 9) worthy of citation. “At one time private lectures
were given in Vienna on Kant, which had been arranged by Adam Schmidt,
Wilhelm Schmidt, Hunczovsky, Göpfert and others. In spite of my urgings
Beethoven refused to attend a single one of them.” There is no
reference in Wegeler’s “Notizen” to instruction received by Beethoven
from Albrechtsberger. With his old colleague in the Court Orchestra
in Bonn, Nicolaus Simrock, though he was a much older man, Beethoven
remained in touch after his removal to Vienna. Simrock, who was highly
esteemed both as man and musician, had embarked in business as a
music publisher in Bonn. The Variations on a theme from Dittersdorf’s
“Rothkäppchen,” were published by him (at the latest in the early
part of 1794), as well as those for pianoforte four hands on a theme
by Count Waldstein (some time in the same year). It is to the latter
composition that the following letter refers:
Vienna, August 2, 1794.
Dear Simrock:
I deserve a little scolding from you for holding back your
Variations so long, but, indeed, I do not lie when I say that I
was hindered from correcting them sooner by an overwhelming amount
of business. You will note the shortcomings for yourself, but I
must wish you joy on the appearance of your engraving, which is
beautiful, clear and legible. Verily, if you keep on thus you
will become chief among cutters, that is, note cutters[72]. In my
former letter I promised to send you something of mine and you
interpreted the remark as being in the language of the cavaliers.
How have I deserved such a title? Faugh! who would indulge in such
language in these democratic days of ours? To free myself from the
imputation as soon as I have finished the grand revision of my
compositions, which will be soon, you shall have something which
you will surely engrave. I have also been looking about me for a
commissioner and have found a right capable young fellow for the
place. His name is Traeg. You have naught to do but to write to
him or me about the conditions which you want to make. He asks of
you one-third _rabate_. The devil take all such bargaining! It is
very hot here. The Viennese fear that they will soon be unable to
eat ice-cream, there having been little cold last winter and ice
being scarce. Many persons of importance have come here and it
was said that a revolution was imminent; but it is my belief that
so long as the Austrian has his dark beer and sausage he will not
revolt. It is said that the suburban gates are to be closed at ten
o’clock at night. The soldiers’ guns are loaded with bullets. No
one dares speak aloud for fear of arrest by the police. Are your
daughters grown? Bring one up to be my wife, for if I am to remain
single in Bonn I shall not stay long, of a surety. You also must
be living in fear. How is good Ries? I shall write to him soon for
he can have only an unfavorable opinion of me--but this damned
writing! I cannot get over my antipathy towards it. Have you
performed my piece yet? Write to me occasionally.
Please send also a few copies of the first Variations.
Your
Beethoven.
These “first Variations” obviously are those on the theme from
“Rothkäppchen”; those referred to in the early part of the letter
the ones on Count Waldstein’s theme. The “piece” whose performance
he inquires about is the Octet, and the allusion to it justifies the
belief that it was composed for the wind-instrument players of Bonn who
found no opportunity to play it while Beethoven was still in his native
city. The letter, like that written to Eleonore von Breuning, shows
that Beethoven was still thinking of the possibility or probability of
a return to Bonn. Its cheerful tone discloses a comfortable, satisfied
frame of mind--the mood from which the first Trios proceeded.
FIRST CONCERT APPEARANCES IN VIENNA
We return to the chronological record of events. The first of these in
the year 1795, was Beethoven’s first appearance in public as virtuoso
and composer. The annual concerts in the Burgtheater established by
Gassmann for the benefit of the widows of the Tonkünstlergesellschaft
were announced for the evenings of March 29 and 30. The vocal work
selected for performance was an oratorio in two parts, “Gioas, Re
di Giuda,” by Antonio Cartellieri; the instrumental, a Concerto for
Pianoforte and Orchestra, composed and played by Ludwig van Beethoven.
Cartellieri was a young man of twenty-three years (born in Danzig,
September 27, 1772) who, a year or two since, had come from Berlin
to study operatic composition with the then greatest living composer
in that field, Salieri. As the direction of these Widow and Orphan
concerts was almost exclusively in the hands of Salieri, one is
almost tempted to think that he may on this occasion have indulged a
pardonable vanity in bringing forward two of his pupils, if we did not
know how strong an attraction the name of Beethoven must have been for
the public which, as yet, had had no opportunity to learn his great
powers except by report. The day of the performance drew near but the
Concerto was not yet written out. “Not until the afternoon of the
second day before the concert did he write the rondo, and then while
suffering from a pretty severe colic which frequently afflicted him.
I [Wegeler] relieved him with simple remedies so far as I could. In
the anteroom sat four copyists to whom he handed sheet after sheet
as soon as it was finished.... At the first rehearsal, which took
place the next day in Beethoven’s room, the pianoforte was found to
be half a tone lower than the wind-instruments. Without a moment’s
delay Beethoven had the wind-instruments and the others tune to
B-flat instead of A and played his part in C-sharp.” Thus Wegeler in
his “Notizen” (pg. 36). But he has confounded two compositions. The
concerto which Beethoven played on March 29, 1795, was not that in C
(Op. 15) which was not yet finished, but, in all probability, that in
B-flat (Op. 19). For the fact that the Concerto in B-flat was composed
before that in C we have the testimony of Beethoven himself, who wrote
to Breitkopf and Härtel on April 22, 1801: “I simply want to call your
attention to the fact that one of my first Concertos will be published
by Hoffmeister, which is not among my best works, and one also by
Mollo which, though composed later, etc.” The Concerto in B-flat was
published in 1801 by Hoffmeister and that in C in the same year by
Mollo and Co. in Vienna, the latter a little in advance of the former,
wherefore there need be no surprise at the earlier _opus_ number.
Beethoven also took part in the second concert on March 30, the
minutes of the Tonkünstlerschaft recording that he “improvised on the
pianoforte”; and though busily engaged he also embraced an opportunity
to testify to his devotion to the manes of Mozart. On March 31, 1795,
Mozart’s widow arranged a performance of “La Clemenza di Tito” in the
Burgtheater. “After the first part,” says the advertisement, “Mr.
Ludwig van Beethoven will play a Concerto of Mozart’s composition on
the Pianoforte.” We opine that this concerto was Mozart’s in D minor,
which Beethoven loved especially and for which he wrote cadenzas.
The Trios, Op. 1, had now become so well known and appreciated in
musical circles as to justify their publication, and accordingly, an
advertisement inviting subscriptions for Ludwig van Beethoven’s “three
Grand Trios” appeared in the “Wiener Zeitung” on May 16, 1795. Three
days later a contract was signed by the author and Artaria and Company.
The printed list of subscribers gives 123 names, mostly belonging
to the higher circles, with subscriptions amounting to 241 copies.
As Beethoven paid the publisher but one florin per copy, and the
subscription price was one ducat, he made a handsome profit out of the
transaction.[73]
FIRST PIANOFORTE TRIOS AND SONATAS
We must tarry a moment longer with these Trios. That the author is
disposed to place their origin in the Bonn period has already appeared.
Argument in favor of this view can be found in the fact of their
early performance in Vienna, for there can be no reasonable question
of the correctness of Ries’s story, for which Beethoven himself was
authority, that they were played at the house of Prince Lichnowsky, in
the presence of Haydn. This performance must have taken place before
January 19, 1794, because on that day Haydn started again for England.
Now, Beethoven’s sketches show that he was still working on at least
the second and third of the Trios after 1794, and that they were not
ready for the printer before the end of that year. Further explanation
is offered by the following little circumstances: since Haydn was
present, the performance at Prince Lichnowsky’s must have been from
manuscript. In the morning meeting which probably took place only a
short time before the soirée, Beethoven’s attention was called to the
desirability of changing in the last movement of the second Trio, the
time-signature from 4-4 to 2-4. Beethoven made the change. From these
facts it may be concluded that after a first there was a final revision
of these Trios and that the former version disappeared or was destroyed
after the latter was made. It has repeatedly been intimated that
the author believes that the rewriting of compositions completed in
Beethoven’s early period is farther-reaching than is generally assumed.
The case therefore seems to present itself as follows: Haydn heard the
Trios at Lichnowsky’s in their first state; Beethoven then took them
up for revision and in the course of 1794 and the beginning of 1795
brought them to the state in which we know them. It is not possible to
say positively whether or not the first form, particularly of the first
Trio, dates back to the Bonn period.
An interesting anecdote connected with these Trios may well find place
here; it is contributed by Madame Mary de Fouche, daughter of Tomkison,
who, in the seventh decade of the nineteenth century, was one of the
more famous pianoforte manufacturers of London: In the early days of
the century, a little society of musicians--J. B. Cramer, the pianist;
F. Cramer, violinist, half-brother of the preceding; J. P. Salomon,
whose name has so often come up in previous chapters of this work;
Bridgetower, a mulatto and celebrated violinist, whose name we shall
meet again; Watts, tenor; Morant, also tenor, who married the great
Dussek’s widow; Dahmen, Lindley and Crossdale, violoncellists--was
in the habit of meeting regularly at Mr. Tomkison’s to try over and
criticise such new music of the German school as came to the London
dealers. At one of these meetings the new Trios of Beethoven, Op. 1,
were played through, J. B. Cramer at the pianoforte. “This is the man,”
he cried, “who is to console us for the loss of Mozart!” According to
the recollection of Cipriani Potter, this was after Cramer had made the
personal acquaintance of Beethoven in Vienna, and had heard him play
there.
Some other incidents recorded by Wegeler belong to this year. Haydn
reached Vienna upon his return from his second visit to England on
August 20. Beethoven had now ready the three Sonatas, Op. 2, and at one
of the Friday morning concerts at Prince Lichnowsky’s he played them
to Haydn, to whom they were dedicated.
Here (says Wegeler on page 29 of the ‘Notizen’), Count Appony
asked Beethoven to compose a quartet for him for a given
compensation, Beethoven not yet having written a piece in this
genre. The Count declared that contrary to custom he did not want
to have exclusive possession of the quartet for half a year before
publication, nor did he ask that it be dedicated to him, etc. In
response to repeated urgings by me, Beethoven twice set about the
task, but the first effort resulted in a grand violin Trio (Op.
3), the second in a violin Quintet (Op. 4).
How much mistaken Wegeler was in these concluding statements has
already been indicated.
The three Pianoforte Sonatas dedicated to Haydn were, therefore, the
second group of compositions which Beethoven considered illustrative of
his artistic ideals and worthy of publication. Nothing can be said with
positiveness touching the time of their origin. Schönfeld’s words in
his “Jahrbuch der Tonkunst von Wien und Prag”: “We already have several
of his Sonatas, among which his last are particularly noteworthy,”
which were written at least eight months before the Sonatas appeared
in print, lead to the conclusion that the Sonatas were known in Vienna
in manuscript in the spring of 1795. Their appearance in print was
announced in the “Wiener Zeitung” of March 9, 1796.
Still another anecdote recorded by Wegeler refers to another
composition of this period: “Beethoven was seated in a box at the opera
with a lady of whom he thought much at a performance of ‘La Molinara.’
When the familiar _Nel cor più non mi sento_ was reached the lady
remarked that she had possessed some variations on the theme but had
lost them. In the same night Beethoven wrote the six variations on the
melody and the next morning sent them to the lady with the inscription:
_Variazioni, etc., Perdute par la--ritrovate par Luigi van Beethoven_.
They are so easy that it is likely Beethoven wished that she should be
able to play them at sight.” Paisiello’s “La Molinara,” composed in
1788 for Naples, was performed on March 8, 1794 in the Court Opera, and
again on June 24 and 27, 1795, in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater in Vienna.
Considering the time of the publication of these unpretentious but
genial little variations, their composition may be set down after the
latter performances. At the same period Beethoven wrote variations on
another theme (_Quant’ è più bello_) from the same opera, which were
published before the former and dedicated to Prince Carl Lichnowsky.
It is likely that a few more sets of variations, a form of composition
for which Beethoven had a strong predilection at the time, had
their origin in these early years of Beethoven’s life in Vienna. The
Variations in C on the “Menuet à la Vigano” from the ballet “Le Nozze
disturbate,” may confidently be assigned to the year 1795. The ballet
was performed for the first time on May 18, 1795, at Schikaneder’s
theatre; the Variations are advertised as published on February 27,
1796.
The Gesellschaft der bildenden Künstler had, in the year 1792,
established an annual ball in the Redoutensaal in the month of
November; and Haydn, just then returned covered with glory from
England, composed a set of twelve minuets and twelve German dances for
the occasion. In 1793, the Royal Imperial Composer Kozeluch followed
Haydn’s example. In 1794, Dittersdorf wrote the same number of like
dances for the large hall, and Eybler for the small. In view of this
array of great names, and considering that as yet the Trios, Op.
1, were the only works of a higher order than the Variations which
Beethoven had sent to press, the advertisements for the annual ball
to be given upon the 22nd of November, 1795, give a vivid proof of
the high reputation which the young man had gained as a composer now
at the end of his third year in Vienna. These advertisements conclude
thus: “The music for the Minuets and German dances for this ball is
an entirely new arrangement. For the larger room they were written by
the Royal Imperial Chapelmaster Süssmayr; for the smaller room by the
master hand of Mr. Ludwig van Beethoven out of love for the artistic
fraternity.” These dances, arranged for pianoforte by Beethoven
himself, came from the press of Artaria a few weeks later, as did also
Süssmayr’s; Beethoven’s name in the advertisement being in large and
conspicuous type.
As the year began with the first, so it closed with Beethoven’s
second appearance in public as composer and virtuoso; and here is the
advertisement of the performance from the “Wiener Zeitung” of December
16:
BEETHOVEN PAYS TRIBUTE TO HAYDN
Next Friday, the 18th instant, Mr. the Chapelmaster Haydn will
give a grand musical concert in the small Redoutensaal, at which
Mad. Tomeoni and Mr. Mombelli will sing. Mr. van Beethoven will
play a Concerto of his composing on the Pianoforte, and three
grand symphonies, not yet heard here, which the Chapelmaster
composed during his last sojourn in London, will be performed.
One would gladly know what concerto was played.[74] But there was
little public criticism then outside of London and very rarely any
in Vienna. The mere fact of the appearance of Beethoven at his old
master’s concert is, however, another proof that too much stress has
been laid upon a hasty word spoken by him to Ries. Haydn wanted that
Beethoven should put “Pupil of Haydn” on the title-page of his first
works. Beethoven was unwilling to do so because, as he said, “though he
had taken some lessons from Haydn he had never learned anything from
him.” Nothing could be more natural than for Haydn, knowing nothing
of the studies of his pupil with Schenk, to express such a wish in
relation to the Sonatas dedicated to him, and equally natural that the
author should refuse; but to add to the attractions of the concert was
a very different matter--a graceful and delicate compliment which he
could with pleasure make.
This chapter may appropriately close with the one important family
event of this year. The father, the mother, two infant brothers and two
infant sisters slept in the churchyard at Bonn; but Ludwig, Caspar and
Johann were never more to look upon their graves. The three brothers
were now reunited. Vienna had become their new home and not one of them
beheld the rushing Rhine again.
FOOTNOTES:
[70] Though Thayer fixed the date of this letter in May or June, 1794,
Dr. Deiters believed that it was of a much earlier date; and may,
indeed, have been written before Beethoven went to Vienna. For his
theory Dr. Deiters found a plausible argument in the spelling of the
name with a “w” instead of a “v,” and the reiterated references to a
misunderstanding which had long been made right. The letter has no date
or superscription and Wegeler assumed that it was the continuation
of one whose first page had been lost. If the letter was written in
Bonn it would prove that the Rondo (probably that in G for Pianoforte
and Violin, B. and H. Series XII, No. 102) was composed before the
beginning of the Viennese period; which might well be. The Sonata is
probably the unfinished one in C, dedicated to Eleonore von Breuning.
[71] This was done by Wegeler’s grandson, Carl Wegeler, in an essay
published in the “Coblenz Zeitung” on May 20, 1890.
[72] An early example of Beethoven’s fondness for punning. _Stechen_
means many things in German--among them to sting, stab, tilt in a
tournament, take a trick at cards--as well as to engrave, or cut in
metal.
[73] The son of Artaria told Nohl that his father had told him that he
got the money to pay Beethoven without the composer’s knowledge from
Prince Lichnowsky.
[74] It was probably that in B-flat. See Nottebohm’s “Zweite
Beethoveniana,” page 72.