Chapter XIX

The Year 1801--Concerts for Wounded Soldiers--Vigano and the

Ballet “Prometheus”--Stephan von Breuning--Hetzendorf--“Christus

am Ölberg”--Compositions and Publications of the Year--The Funeral

March in the Sonata, Op. 26--The “Moonlight” Sonata--The Quintet,

Op. 29.

The tone of Beethoven’s correspondence and the many proofs of his

untiring industry during the winter 1800-1 and early part of the

succeeding spring, suggest a mind at ease, rejoicing in the exercise

of its powers, and a body glowing with vigorous health. But for his

own words to Wegeler: “I have been really miserable this winter,” the

passing allusions to ill health in his replies to Hoffmeister’s letters

would merely impress the reader as being half-groundless apologies for

lack of punctuality in writing. This chapter will exhibit the young

master both as he appeared to the public and as he showed himself in

confidential intercourse to the few in whose presence he put aside the

mask and laid open his heart; and will, therefore, it is believed, be

found fully to justify what has been said of his heroic energy, courage

and endurance under a trouble of no ordinary nature.

In the beginning of the year he wrote to Hoffmeister[100] as follows

under date “January 15 (or thereabouts), 1801”:

... Your enterprises delight me also and I wish that if works of

art ever bring profit that it might go to real artists instead of

mere shopkeepers.

The fact that you purpose to publish the works of _Sebastian

Bach_ does good to my heart which beats only for the lofty and

magnificent art of this patriarch of harmony, and I hope soon to

see them in vigorous sale. I hope, as soon as golden peace has

been declared, to be helpful in many ways, especially if you offer

the works for subscription.

As regards our real business, since you ask it I meet your wishes

by offering you the following items: Septet (concerning which I

have already written you), 20 ducats; Symphony, 20 ducats; Grand

Solo Sonata--Allegro, Adagio, Minuetto, Rondo--20 ducats. This

Sonata is a tidy piece of work (_hat sich gewaschen_), my dearest

Mr. Brother.

Now for an explanation: You will wonder, perhaps, that I have

made no distinction here between Sonata, Septet and Symphony. I

have done this because I have learned that a septet or symphony

has a smaller sale than a sonata, though a symphony ought

unquestionably to be worth more. (N. B. The Septet consists of a

short introductory _Adagio_, then _Allegro_, _Adagio_, _Minuetto_,

_Andante_ with variations, _Minuetto_ again, a short _Adagio_

introduction and then _Presto_.) I put the price of the Concerto

at only 10 ducats because, as I have already written, I do not

give it out as one of my best. I do not think the amount excessive

on the whole; I have tried, at least, to make the price as

moderate as possible for you. As regards the bill of exchange you

may, since you leave the matter to me, issue it to Geimüller or

Schüller. The whole sum amounts to 70 ducats for the four works.

I do not understand any money except Viennese ducats; how many

thalers in gold that amounts to does not concern me, I being a

really bad negotiator and mathematician.

This disposes of the disagreeable (_saure_) business; I call it so

because I wish things were different in the world. There ought to

be only one art warehouse in the world to which an artist would

only need to carry his art-works to take away with him whatever

he needed; as it is one must be half tradesman; and how we adjust

ourselves--good God!--that is what I again call disagreeable. As

regards the L... O...,[101] let them talk; they will certainly

never make anybody immortal by their twaddle, and as little will

they rob anybody of immortality to whom Apollo has decreed it.

BENEFIT CONCERTS FOR WOUNDED SOLDIERS

The next letter requires a word of introduction. That military campaign

which included the disastrous field of Hohenlinden (December 3, 1800),

had filled the hospitals at Vienna, and among the various means of

raising funds for the benefit of the wounded, was a series of public

concerts. The two in which they reached their climax took place in

the large Ridotto room (_Redouten-Saal_) of the imperial palace. The

one arranged by Baron von Braun as Director of the Court Opera, was a

performance of Haydn’s “Creation” conducted by the composer, on January

16th; the other was arranged by Mme. Frank (Christine Gerhardi) for

January 30th. That lady, Mme. Galvani (Magdalena Willmann) and Herr

Simoni were the singers, Beethoven and Punto the instrumental solo

performers; Haydn directed two of his own symphonies, Paër and Conti

directed the orchestra in the accompaniments to the vocal music. In

the first public announcement printed in the “Wiener Zeitung” the only

artist mentioned was “the famous amateur singer Frau von Frank, _née_

Gerhardi,” as the giver of the concert. This called out from Beethoven

the following letter:

Pour Madame de Frank.

I think it my duty, best of women, to ask you not to permit your

husband again in the second announcement of our concert to forget

that those who contribute their talents to the same also be made

known to the public. This is the custom, and I do not see if it

is not done what is to increase the attendance at the concert,

which is its chief aim. Punto is not a little wrought up about the

matter, and he is right, and it was my intention even before I saw

him to remind you of what must have been the result of great haste

or great forgetfulness. Look after this, best of women, since if

it is not done dissatisfaction will surely result.

Having been convinced, not only by myself but by others as well,

that I am not a useless factor in this concert, I know that not

only I but Punto, Simoni, Galvani will ask that the public be

informed also of our zeal for the philanthropic purposes of this

concert; otherwise we must all conclude that we are useless.

Wholly yours

L. v. Bthvn.

Whether this sharp remonstrance produced the desired effect cannot now

be ascertained, but the original advertisement was repeated in the

newspaper on the 24th and 28th _verbatim_.

In the state of affairs then existing it was no time to give public

concerts for private emolument; moreover, a quarrel with the orchestra

a year before might have prevented Beethoven from obtaining the

Burgtheater again, and the new Theater-an-der-Wien was not yet ready

for occupation; but there is still another adequate reason for his

giving no _Akademie_ (concert) this spring. He had been engaged to

compose an important work for the court stage.

VIGANO AND THE PROMETHEUS BALLET

Salvatore Vigano, dancer and composer of ballets, both action and

music, the son of a Milanese of the same profession, was born at

Naples, March 29, 1769. He began his career at Rome, taking female

parts because women were not allowed there to appear upon the stage.

He then had engagements successively at Madrid--where he married

Maria Medina, a celebrated Spanish danseuse--Bordeaux, London and

Venice, in which last city, in 1791, he composed his “Raoul, Sire

de Croqui.” Thence he came to Vienna, where he and his wife first

appeared in May, 1793. His “Raoul” was produced on June 25th at the

Kärnthnerthor-Theater. After two years of service here he accepted

engagements in five continental cities and returned to Vienna again in

1799. The second wife of Emperor Franz, Maria Theresia, was a woman

of much and true musical taste and culture, and Vigano determined to

compliment her in a ballet composed expressly for that purpose. Haydn’s

gloriously successful “Creation” may, perhaps, have had an influence in

the choice of a subject, “The Men of Prometheus,” and the dedication of

Beethoven’s Septet to the Empress may have had its effect in the choice

of a composer. At all events, the work was entrusted to Beethoven.

If the manner in which this work has been neglected by Beethoven’s

biographers and critics may be taken as a criterion, an opinion

prevails that it was not worthy of him in subject, execution or

success. It seems to be forgotten that as an orchestral composer he

was then known only by two or three pianoforte concertos and his first

Symphony--a work which by no means rivals the greater production of

Mozart and Haydn--and that for the stage he was not known to have

written anything. There is a misconception, too, as to the position

which the ballet just then held in the Court Theatre. As a matter of

fact it stood higher than ever before and, perhaps, than it has ever

stood since. Vigano was a man of real genius and had wrought a reform

which is clearly, vigorously and compendiously described in a memoir of

Heinrich von Collin, from which we quote:

In the reign of Leopold II the ballet, which had become a

well-attended entertainment in Vienna through the efforts of

Noverre, was restored to the stage. Popular interest turned at

once to them again, and this was intensified in a great degree

when, beside the ballet-master Muzarelli, a second ballet-master,

Mr. Salvatore Vigano, whose wife disclosed to the eyes of the

spectators a thitherto unsuspected art, also gave entertainments.

The most important affairs of state are scarcely able to create

a greater war of feeling than was brought about at the time by

the rivalry of the two ballet-masters. Theatre-lovers without

exception divided themselves into two parties who looked upon

each other with hatred and contempt because of a difference of

conviction.... The new ballet-master owed his extraordinary

triumph over his older rival to his restoration of his art back

from the exaggerated, inexpressive artificialities of the old

Italian ballet to the simple forms of nature. Of course, there

was something startling in seeing a form of drama with which

thitherto there had been associated only leaps, contortions,

constrained positions, and complicated dances which left behind

them no feeling of unity, suddenly succeeded by dramatic action,

depth of feeling, and plastic beauty of representation as they

were so magnificently developed in the earlier ballets of Mr.

Salvatore Vigano, opening, as they did, a new realm of beauty. And

though it may be true that it was especially the natural, joyous,

unconstrained dancing of Madame Vigano and her play of features,

as expressive as it was fascinating, which provoked the applause

of the many, it is nevertheless true that the very subject-matter

of the ballets, which differentiate themselves very favorably

from his later conceits, and his then wholly classical, skilful

and manly dancing, were well calculated to inspire admiration and

respect for the master and his creations.

Two or three pages might be compiled of spicy matter upon the beautiful

Mme. Vigano’s lavish display of the Venus-like graces and charms of

her exquisite form; but her name, long before the “Prometheus” ballet,

had disappeared from the roll of the theatre and Fräulein Cassentini

reigned in her stead. There was nothing derogatory to Beethoven in

his acceptance of the commission to compose the music to a ballet by

Vigano; but by whom commissioned, upon what terms, and when--concerning

these and similar particulars, we know nothing. We only know, that

at the close of the season before Easter, on the 28th of March,

“Die Geschöpfe des Prometheus” was performed for the first time for

the benefit of the prima ballerina of the ballet corps, Fräulein

Cassentini, and that the whole number of its performances this year

was sixteen, and in 1802 thirteen. The pecuniary result to Beethoven

must therefore have been satisfactory. True, the full score did not

appear in print in Beethoven’s lifetime or for a long time thereafter;

it was not published, indeed, until the appearance of the critical

Complete Edition, in which it figures as No. 11 of Series II; nothing

is known of the original manuscript. A copy revised except as to two

numbers, is in the Royal Imperial Court Library at Vienna. A pianoforte

arrangement of the score was published in June, 1801, by Artaria with

the opus number 24 and a dedication to Prince Lichnowsky. Hoffmeister

printed the orchestral parts and a pianoforte score in 1804 as Op. 43

(the number 24 having meanwhile been assigned to the Violin Sonata in

F). Mention ought, perhaps, also to be made of a pianoforte arrangement

of No. 8 for four hands “composé pour la famille Kobler par Louis van

Beethoven. Cette pièce se trouve aussi à gr. Orchestre dans le même

Magazin.” The Kobler family was frequently in Vienna, among other times

in 1814; it had nothing to do with the “Prometheus” music.

Alois Fuchs has preserved a characteristic anecdote which came to him

“from the worthy hand of a contemporary”:

When Beethoven had composed the music to the ballet “Die Geschöpfe

des Prometheus” in 1801, he was one day met by his former teacher,

the great Joseph Haydn, who stopped him at once and said: “Well,

I heard your ballet yesterday and it pleased me very much!”

Beethoven replied: “O, dear Papa, you are very kind; but it is

far from being a ‘Creation!’” Haydn, surprised at the answer and

almost offended, said after a short pause: “That is true; it is

not yet a ‘Creation’ and I can scarcely believe that it will ever

become one.” Whereupon the men said their adieus, both somewhat

embarrassed.

From the period immediately following we have another letter from

Beethoven to Hoffmeister, dated April 22, 1801, in which he says:

Perhaps, too, it is the only sign of genius about me that my

things are not always in the best of order, and nobody can mend

the matter except myself. Thus, for instance, the pianoforte part,

as is usual with me, was not written out in score and I only now

have made a fair copy of it so that because of your haste you

might not receive my too illegible manuscript. So that the works

may appear in the proper sequence as far as possible I inform

you that the following opus numbers ought to be placed on the

compositions:

On the Solo Sonata Opus 22

On the Symphony „ 21

On the Septet „ 20

On the Concerto „ 19

The titles I will send you soon.

Set me down as a subscriber for the works of Johann Sebastian

Bach, also Prince Lichnowsky. The transcription of the Mozart

sonata (or sonatas) as quartets and quintets will do you honor

and certainly prove remunerative. In this also I should like to

be of greater service, but I am a disorderly individual and with

the best of intentions I am continually forgetting everything;

yet I have spoken about the matter here and there, and everywhere

have found inclination towards it. It would be a handsome thing

if Mr. Brother besides doing this were to publish an arrangement

of the Septet for flute, as quintet, for example; by this means

the amateur flautists, who have already approached me on the

subject, would be helped and they would swarm around it like

hungry insects. To say something about myself, I have just written

a ballet in which the ballet-master did not do as well as he

might have done. Baron von Liechtenstein has endowed us with a

product not commensurate with the ideas which the newspapers

have spread touching his genius; another bit of evidence against

the newspapers. The Baron seems to have formed his ideal on Herr

Müller in the marionette show, without, however, having attained

it.

These are the beautiful prospects under which we poor fellows in

Vienna are expected to flourish....

Under the same date Beethoven wrote to Breitkopf and Härtel:

ADVICE TO THE CRITICS OF LEIPSIC

... As regards your request for compositions by me I regret that

at this time I am unable to oblige you; but please tell me what

kind of compositions of mine you want, viz., symphonies, quartets,

sonatas, etc., so that I may govern myself accordingly, and in

case I have what you need or want I may place it at your service.

If I am right, 8 works of mine are about to appear at Mollo’s

in this place; four pieces at Hofmeister’s in Leipsic; in this

connection I wish to add that _one of my first concertos[102]

and therefore not one of_ the best of my compositions, is to be

published by Hofmeister, and that Mollo is to publish a Concerto

which, indeed, was written later[103] _but nevertheless does not

rank among the best of my works in this form_. This is only a

hint for your musical journal in the matter of criticism of these

works, although if one might hear them (well-played, that is), one

would best be able to judge them. Musical policy requires that

one should keep possession for a space of the best concertos.

You should recommend to Messrs. your critics great care and

wisdom especially in the case of the products of younger authors;

many a one may be frightened off who otherwise might, probably,

accomplish more; so far as I am concerned I am far from thinking

that I am so perfect as not to be subject to blame, yet the howls

of your critics against me were at first so humiliating that after

comparing myself with others I could not get angry, but remained

perfectly quiet, and concluded they did not understand their

business; it was the easier to remain quiet since I saw the praise

lavished on people who have no significance in loco in the eyes

of the better sort, and who disappeared from sight here no matter

how good they may otherwise have been--but _pax vobiscum_--peace

for me and them--I would not have mentioned a syllable about the

matter had not you yourself done so.

Coming recently to a friend who showed me the amount which had

been collected _for the daughter of the immortal god of harmony_,

I marvel at the smallness of the sum which Germany, especially

_your Germany_, had contributed in recognition of the individual

who seems to me worthy of respect for her father’s sake, which

brings me to the thought how would it do if I were to publish a

work for the benefit of this person by subscription, acquaint the

public each year with the amount and its proceeds in order to

assure her against possible misfortune. Write me quickly how this

might best be accomplished so that something may be done before

_this Bach_ dies, before this brook[104] dries up and we be no

longer able to supply it with water. That you would publish the

work is self-evident.

Poor Maximilian’s health having become precarious, the welfare of the

Teutonic Order in those revolutionary times demanded that a wise and

energetic successor to him as Grand Master should be secured in the

person of an efficient coadjutor. The thoughts of all parties concerned

fixed upon a man who was then not even a member of the order, in case

he would join it and accept the position, namely, the famous Archduke

Karl. A Grand Chapter was therefore called at Vienna, which opened June

1st, and which unanimously admitted him to membership, he receiving a

dispensation from taking the oaths for the time being. On June 3rd,

he was elected coadjutor and on the 11th he received the accolade. The

circular which called the meeting brought to the Austrian capital the

whole body of officials employed at Mergentheim, and thus it happened

that Stephan von Breuning, whose name appears in the Calendar of the

order from 1797 to 1803, inclusive, as Hofrathsassessor, came again

to Vienna and renewed intimate personal intercourse with Beethoven.

Another of our old Bonn acquaintances had also recently come thither,

he of whom (in the opinion of the present writer) Beethoven writes

to Amenda: “Now to my comfort a man has come again”--namely, Anton

Reicha. In the spring of this year Beethoven removed from the Tiefer

Graben into rooms overlooking one of the bastions--there is little if

any doubt, the Wasserkunstbastei--and in one of those houses the main

entrances to which are in the Sailerstätte. At a later period of his

life he came thither again, and with good reason; for those houses not

only afforded a beautiful view over the Glacis and the Landsstrasse

suburb, but plenty of sun and fresh air. In the Hamberger house, where

now stands No. 15, he had often gone with his exercises to Joseph

Haydn, and hard by lived his friend Anton von Türkheim, Royal Imperial

Truchsess--that is, carver.

This year he chose Hetzendorf for his summer retreat. Those who know

well the environs of Vienna, are aware that this village offers less

attraction to the lover of nature than a hundred others within easy

distance of the city. There is nothing to invite one, who is fond of

the solitude of the forest, but the thick groves in the garden of

Schönbrunn some ten minutes’ walk distant. It is certainly possible

that Beethoven’s state of health may have forbidden him to indulge his

taste for long rambles, and that the cool shades of Schönbrunn, so

easily and at all times accessible, may have determined his choice. It

would be pleasant to believe, though there is no evidence to support

such a belief, that some feeling of regard for his former patron

Maximilian, who had sought retirement at Hetzendorf, was one of the

causes which induced the composer to spend this summer there.

ORATORIO: “THE MOUNT OF OLIVES”

That was a period at Vienna fruitful in short sacred cantatas. On

certain days in the spring and late autumn no theatrical performances

were allowed and the principal composers embraced the opportunity

to exhibit their skill and invention in this branch of their art;

sometimes in concerts for their own benefit, more commonly in those for

public charities. Haydn, Salieri, Winter, Süssmayr, Paër, are names

that will occur in this connection to every student of Vienna’s musical

annals. Beethoven, ever ready to compete with the greatest talent

in at least one work, and desirous of producing at his next concert

the novelty of an extensive vocal composition by himself, determined

to compose a work of this class. The subject chosen was “Christus am

Ölberg.”[105] Its composition was the grand labor of this summer. “The

text was written by me in collaboration with the poet within 14 days,”

writes Beethoven in one of his letters, “but the poet was musical and

had already written many things for music; I was able to consult with

him at any moment.” This poet was Franz Xaver Huber, fertile writer

in general literature and a popular author for the Vienna stage,

who occupied so high a place in public esteem, that his consent to

prepare the text of the “Christus” is another indication of the high

reputation of Beethoven. The merits and demerits of the poem need not

be expatiated upon; Beethoven’s own words show that he was in part

responsible for them. Schindler says:

Beethoven also lived in Hetzendorf in 1805 and composed his

“Fidelio.” A coincidence touching the two works, one that

remained in the lively memory of Beethoven for many years, was

that he composed both of them in the thicket of the forest in

the Schönbrunner Hofgarten, sitting on the hill between two oaks

which branched out from the trunk about two feet from the ground.

This oak, which always remained remarkable in his eyes (it is to

the left of the Gloriet), I found again with Beethoven as late as

1823, and it awakened in him interesting memories of the early

period.

* * * * *

So far as has been determined, the compositions completed in 1801 were

the Sonatas for Pianoforte and Violin, Op. 23 and 24; the Pianoforte

Sonatas in A-flat, Op. 26, E-flat, Op. 27, No. 1, and C-sharp minor,

Op. 27, No. 2, and D major, Op. 28; and the Quintet in C major, Op. 29.

“The Andante in D minor of the Sonata, Op. 28,” says Czerny, “was long

his favorite and he played it often for his own pleasure.” The twelve

Contradances and six Rustic Dances (_Ländler_) are sketched in part

on the first staves of the Kessler sketchbook. If we are justified in

assuming that they were composed for the balls of the succeeding winter

and were played from manuscript, it would follow that they also are to

be counted among the compositions completed in this year.

PUBLICATIONS OF THE YEAR 1801

The published works were the Concerto for Pianoforte and Orchestra,

Op. 15, dedicated “À son Altesse Madame la Princesse Odescalchi née

Keglevics”; the Sonata for Pianoforte and Horn, Op. 17, dedicated

“À Madame la Baronne de Braun”; the Quintet for Pianoforte, Oboe,

Clarinet, Horn and Bassoon, Op. 16, dedicated “À son Altesse

Monseigneur le Prince Régnant de Schwarzenberg.” These three works

were announced by Mollo and Co. on March 21. Furthermore, the music

to “Prometheus,” arranged for Pianoforte (according to Czerny by

the composer) and dedicated “A sua Altezza la Signora Principessa

Lichnowsky, nata Contessa Thun,” published in June by Artaria as Op.

27; “6 Variations très faciles” on an original theme in G, announced by

Johann Traeg as absolutely new on August 11, sketched in the preceding

year but probably completed in this; the Sonatas, Op. 23 and 24,

dedicated “À Monsieur le Comte Maurice de Fries,” announced on October

28; the six Quartets, Op. 18, dedicated “À son Altesse Monseigneur le

Prince Régnant de Lobkowitz,” announced (second series) on October

28 by Mollo. The Pianoforte Concerto in B-flat, Op. 19, dedicated “À

Monsieur Charles Nikl Noble de Nikelsberg,” and the Symphony in C,

Op. 21, dedicated “À son Excellence Monsieur le Baron van Swieten,”

were published by Hoffmeister and Kühnel of Leipsic certainly before

the end of the year, since they reached Vienna on January 16, and

were advertised there. An earlier Leipsic edition has not been found.

The two Violin Sonatas in A minor and F major were dedicated to Count

Moritz von Fries and were originally intended to be coupled in a

single opus number (23), as appears from the preliminary announcement

by Mollo in the “Wiener Zeitung” of October 28, 1801, and also by the

designation of the second as “No. 2,” on a copy of Op 24. Sketches

of the two found in the Petters sketchbook are evidence of their

simultaneous origin.

The Pianoforte Sonata, Op. 26, had its origin, according to Nottebohm’s

study of the sketches, in the year 1800; but Shedlock (in the “Musical

Times” of August, 1892) prints a few beginnings of the first movement

in B minor (!) which probably date farther back, perhaps to the Bonn

period. A young composer,[106] Ferdinand Paër (born at Parma in 1771),

since the beginning of 1798 had produced on the court stage a series of

pleasing and popular works. Laboring in a sphere so totally different

from that of Beethoven, there was no rivalry between them and their

relations were cordial and friendly. On June 6th of this summer Paër

brought out a heroic opera, “Achilles,” which “was received with a

storm of approval and deserved it,” says the correspondent of the

“Zeitung für die Elegante Welt.” Paër in his old age told Ferdinand

Hiller a characteristic anecdote of Beethoven which cannot possibly be

true in connection with his “Leonore,” as he, by a lapse of memory,

related it, but is, undoubtedly, in connection with “Achilles.” It was

to the effect that Beethoven went with Paër to the theatre where an

opera by the latter was performing. He sat beside him and after he had

time and again cried out, “Ah, que c’est beau, que c’est intéressant!”

had finally said: “Il faut que je compose cela.” The correspondent just

cited complains of the “want of character” in the marches in “Achilles”

and incidentally confirms one of Ries’s “Notizen”: “The funeral march

in A-flat minor in the Sonata dedicated to Prince Lichnowsky (Op.

26) was the result of the great praise with which the funeral march

in Paër’s ‘Achilles’ was received by Beethoven’s friends.” Of that

Sonata, completed this year, Czerny says: “When Cramer was in Vienna

and was creating a great sensation not only by his playing but also by

the three sonatas which he dedicated to Haydn (of which the first in

A-flat, 3/4 time, awakened great amazement), Beethoven, who had been

pitted against Cramer, wrote the A-flat Sonata, Op. 26, in which there

is purposely a reminder of the Clementi-Cramer passage-work in the

Finale. The _Marcia funebre_ was composed on the impulsion of a very

much admired funeral march of Paër’s, and added to the Sonata.”

Whether or not this funeral march was really occasioned by Paër’s

“Achilles” or one from another opera by Paër (since “Achilles” was

performed for the first time in 1801, and the older first sketches

already contemplated a “pezzo caracteristico p. e. una marcia in as

moll”), is of subordinate interest, since the legend has nothing

whatever to do with reminiscences, but only with its tremendous

superiority to the music by Paër.

The enigmatic “Sonata pour M.” in the sketches for this sonata no

doubt means “for Mollo” simply. The splendid print in _facsimile_,

published by Erich Praeger from the autograph discovered by him,

gives information concerning the sketches and also concerning the

legends which refer to the origin of the different movements.

THE C-SHARP MINOR SONATA

Of the two Pianoforte Sonatas, Op. 27, the first (in E-flat) was

dedicated to the Princess Johanna von Liechtenstein, _née_ the

Landgravine Fürstenberg, the second to Countess Giulietta Guicciardi.

It is apparent, therefore, that they appeared separately at first.

Sketches of the first show that they originated in 1801. Both are

designated “quasi fantasia,” which plainly indicates a departure from

the customary structure. The C-sharp minor Sonata, Op. 27, No. 2,

was dedicated to the Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, who at this time

(1801-1802) was Beethoven’s pupil and indubitably must be counted

amongst the ladies who, for a time at least, were near to his heart.

Concerning this, later. As his relationship to the Countess has been

exaggerated, so also more significance has been attached to this sonata

than is justified from a sober point of view. Beethoven himself was

vexed that more importance was attached to it than to other sonatas

which he held in higher esteem (Op. 78, for instance), simply because

it had become popular. Its popularity was subsequently heightened by

the designations “Arbor Sonata” and “Moonlight Sonata” and its creation

into a sort of love-song without words, especially after Schindler had

identified the Countess Guicciardi with the “Immortal Beloved” of the

famous love-letter. It was a long time before attention was paid to a

letter written by Dr. G. L. Grosheim, to Beethoven, dated November 10,

1819, in which occur the words: “You wrote me that at Seume’s grave (in

Teplitz) you had placed yourself among his admirers.... It is a desire

which I cannot suppress, that you, Mr. Chapelmaster, would give to the

world your wedding with Seume--I mean your Fantasia in C-sharp minor

and the ‘Beterin’.”[107]

The autograph of the Sonata in D, Op. 28, bears the inscription “Gran

Sonata, Op. 28, 1801, da L. van Beethoven.” It appeared in print in

1802, having been advertised in the “Wiener Zeitung” of August 14, from

the Industriekontor, with the dedication, “À Monsieur Joseph Noble de

Sonnenfels, Conseiller aulique et Sécrétaire perpétuel de l’Académie

des Beaux Arts.” Touching the personality of Joseph Noble de Sonnenfels

something may be learned from W. Nagel’s book, “Beethoven und seine

Klaviersonaten,” and also from Willibald Müller’s biography of him.

At the time, Sonnenfels was nearly 70 years old and, so far as is

known, was not an intimate friend of Beethoven’s; the dedication was

probably nothing more than a mark of respect for the man of brains

with whose ideas Beethoven was in sympathy. The single clue as to the

origin of the work is the date (1801) on the autograph; sketches seem

to be lacking. The sunny disposition of the music is the only evidence,

and this is internal. The work early acquired the sobriquet “Sonata

pastorale” (it was first printed by A. Cranz), and the designation is

not inept.

THE STRING QUINTET IN C, OP. 29

The String Quintet, Op. 29, as is evidenced by an inscription on the

score, was composed in 1801 and published by Breitkopf and Härtel in

1802, towards the close of the year. Simultaneously it appeared from

the press of Artaria. This second edition has a history. According to

Ries the Quintet

was stolen in Vienna and published by A. (Artaria) and Co.

Having been copied in a single night, it was full of errors....

Beethoven’s conduct in the matter is without parallel. He asked

A. to send the fifty copies which had been printed to me for

correction, but at the same time instructed me to use ink on the

wretched paper and as coarsely as possible; also to cross out

several lines so that it would be impossible to make use of a

single copy or sell it. The scratching out was particularly in the

Scherzo. I obeyed his instructions implicitly, etc.

Nottebohm has proved that the further statements of Ries touching the

melting of the plates, etc., are wrong; but the enraged composer did

make a public statement--and very properly:

To the Lovers of Music.

In informing the public that the original Quintet in C long ago

advertised by me as having been published by Breitkopf and Härtel

in Leipsic, I declare at the same time that I have no interest in

the edition published simultaneously by Messrs. Artaria and Mollo

in Vienna. I am the more compelled to make this declaration since

this edition is very faulty, incorrect and utterly useless to

players, whereas Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel, the legal owners of

this Quintet, have done all in their power to produce the work as

handsomely as possible.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

A year later Beethoven revoked this declaration so far as it concerned

Mollo in the following

Announcement to the Public.

After having inserted a statement in the “Wiener Zeitung” of

January 22, 1803, in which I publicly declared that the edition of

my Quintet published by Mollo did not appear under my supervision,

was faulty in the extreme and useless to players, the undersigned

hereby revokes the statement to the extent of saying that Messrs.

Mollo and Co. have no interest in this edition, feeling that I owe

such a declaration to do justice to Messrs. Mollo and Co. before a

public entitled to respect.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

As Nottebohm has shown, Beethoven eventually agreed to revise and

correct this edition also. A long letter to Breitkopf and Härtel, dated

November 13, 1802, gives a lively picture of the excitement which the

incident aroused in Beethoven:

I write hurriedly to inform you of only the most important

things--know then, that while I was in the country for my health,

the arch-scoundrel Artaria borrowed the Quintet from Count Friess

on the pretence that it was already published and in existence

here and that they wanted it for the purpose of reëngraving

because their copy was faulty and as a matter of fact intended

to rejoice the public with it in a few days--good Count Fr.,

deceived and not reflecting that a piece of rascality might be

in it, gave it to them--he could not ask me, I was not here, but

fortunately I learned of the matter in time, it was on Tuesday

of this week, and in my zeal to save my honor and as quickly as

possible to prevent your suffering injury, I offered two new works

to these contemptible persons if they would suppress the entire

edition, but a cooler-headed friend who was with me asked, Do you

want to reward these rascals? The case was finally closed under

conditions, they assuring me that no matter what you printed they

would reprint it, these generous scoundrels decided therefore to

wait three weeks after the receipt here of your copies before

issuing their own (insisting that Count F. had made them a

present of the copy). For one term the contract was to be closed

and for this boon I had to give them a work which I value at at

least 40 ducats. Before this contract was made comes my good

brother as if sent by heaven, he hurries to Count Fr., the whole

thing is the biggest swindle in the world, how neatly they kept

themselves out of Count F.’s way and so on, and I go to F. and

as the enclosed _Revers_ may show that I did all in my power to

protect you from injury--and my statement of the case may serve

to prove to you that no sacrifice was too great for me to save my

honor and save you from harm. From the _Revers_ you will see the

measures that must be adopted and you should make all possible

haste to send copies here and if possible at the same price as

the rascals--Sonnleithner and I will take all further measures

which seem to us good, so that their entire edition may be

destroyed--please take good notice that Mollo and Artaria combined

are already only a shop, that is, a combined lot of scoundrels.

The dedication to Friess I hope was not forgotten inasmuch as my

brother wrote it on the first sheet--I wrote the _Revers_ myself

since my poor brother is very much occupied with work yet did all

he could to save you and me, in the confusion he lost a faithful

dog which he called his favorite, he deserves that you thank him

personally as I have done on my own account--recall that from

Tuesday to late last night I devoted myself almost wholly to this

matter and the mere thought of this rascally stroke may serve to

make you realize how unpleasant it is for me to have anything to

do with such miserable men.

“_Revers._

“The undersigned pledges himself under no circumstances to send

out or sell here or elsewhere the Quintet received from Mr. Count

Friess composed by Lud. v. Beethoven until the original edition

shall have been in circulation in Vienna 14 days.

“Vienna, 9th month, 1802.

Artaria Comp.”

This _R._ is signed with its own hand by the _Comp._ Use the following:

Is to be had à Vienne chez Artaria Comp., à Münich chez F. Halm, à

Francfort chez Gayl et Nädler, perhaps also in Leipsic chez Meysel--the

price is 2 florins Viennese standard. I got hold of twelve copies,

which they promised me from the beginning, and corrected them--_the

engraving is abominable_. Make use of all this, you see that on every

side we have them in our hands and can proceed against them in the

courts.--_N.B._ Any personal measures taken against A. will have my

approval.

Under date of December 5, 1802, Beethoven’s brother Karl wrote to

Breitkopf and Härtel on the same subject:

Finally I shall inform you touching the manner in which my brother

sells his works. We already have in print 34 works and about 18

numbers. These pieces were mostly commissioned by amateurs under

the following agreement: he who wants a piece pays a fixed sum for

its exclusive possession for a half or a whole year, or longer,

and binds himself not to give the manuscript to _anybody_; at the

conclusion of the period it is the privilege of the author to do

what he pleases with the work. This was the understanding with

Count Friess. Now the Count has a certain Conti as violin teacher,

and to him Artaria turned and he probably for a consideration of

8 or 10 florins said that the quartet (_sic_) had already been

printed and was to be had everywhere. This made Count Friess

think that there was nothing more to be lost in the matter and

he gave it up without a word to us about it.... Count Friess

is not here just now, but he will return in 6 days and then we

shall see that you are recompensed in one way or another. I send

you the accompanying _Revers_ signed by Artaria for inspection;

please return it. This _Revers_ cost my brother 7 days during

which time he could do nothing, and me innumerable trips, many

unpleasantnesses and the loss of my dog.[108]

Beethoven’s declaration not having been published until more than two

months after his letter containing the _Revers_, the incidents touching

which Ries makes report, and the partial reëngraving of the plates,

must have taken place after January, 1803, and the end of the quarrel

in 1804. Sketches of the Quintet have not been found and the question

naturally arises whether or not it might have had an earlier origin or

been developed from earlier sketches. A note in a Conversation Book

of 1826, indicates that one of the Quintet’s themes was written by

Schuppanzigh.

FOOTNOTES:

[100] Beethoven’s carelessness in respect of dates, or a characteristic

indifference to the almanac, as exemplified in this date-line, plays

an important rôle in one of the most puzzling questions in his

personal history, namely, the identity of the woman whom in the famous

love-letters he called “The Immortal Beloved.”

[101] “L... O...”, according to Schindler as reported by Nohl,

stands for “Leipsic Oxen,” the reference being to the critics of the

“Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung.”

[102] The Concerto in B-flat, Op. 19.

[103] The Concerto in C major, Op. 15.

[104] Bach is the German equivalent of brook. The daughter of Bach

referred to was Regina Johanna, in whose behalf Friedrich Rochlitz had

issued an appeal. She was the youngest of Bach’s children and died on

December 14, 1800, her last days having been spent in comfort by reason

of the subscription alluded to.

[105] Known in English as “The Mount of Olives.”

[106] Here, for a space, the Editor reverts to the original manuscript

not employed by the German revisers, except as a foot-note.

[107] “The Sonata in C-sharp minor has asked many a tear from gentle

souls who were taught to hear in its first movement a lament for

unrequited love and reflected that it was dedicated to the Countess

Giulia Guicciardi, for whom Beethoven assuredly had a tender feeling.

Moonlight and the plaint of an unhappy lover. How affecting! But

Beethoven did not compose the Sonata for the Countess, though he

inscribed it to her. He had given her a Rondo, and wishing to dedicate

it to another pupil, he asked for its return and in exchange sent the

Sonata. Moreover, it appears from evidence scarcely to be gainsaid,

that Beethoven never intended the C-sharp minor sonata as a musical

expression of love, unhappy or otherwise. In a letter dated January

22, 1892 (for a copy of which I am indebted to Fräulein Lipsius [La

Mara] to whom it is addressed), Alexander W. Thayer, the greatest of

Beethoven’s biographers, says: ‘That Mr. Kalischer has adopted Ludwig

Nohl’s strange notion of Beethoven’s infatuation for Therese Malfatti,

a girl of fourteen years, surprises me; as also that he seems to

consider the C-sharp minor Sonata to be a musical love-poem addressed

to Julia Guicciardi. He ought certainly to know that the subject of

that sonata was or rather that it was suggested by--Seume’s little poem

‘Die Beterin’.’ The poem referred to describes a maiden kneeling at the

high altar in prayer for the recovery of a sick father. Her sighs and

petitions ascend like the smoke of incense from the censers, angels

come to her aid, and, at the last, the face of the suppliant one glows

with the transfiguring light of hope. The poem has little to commend

it as an example of literary art and it is not as easy to connect it

in fancy with the last movement of the sonata as with the first and

second: but the evidence that Beethoven paid it the tribute of his

music seems conclusive.”--“The Pianoforte and its Music,” by H. E.

Krehbiel, Charles Scribner’s Sons, pp. 163, 164.

On page 174, Vol. IV, of the German edition of this biography Dr.

Deiters remarks: “The venerated Thayer, it is true, conceived the

idea that Beethoven’s Fantasia and Sonata, Op. 27, No. 2, had been

inspired by Seume’s ‘Beterin.’ Whoever compares the sonata with the

poem will soon realize that there can be no thought of this. We have

here, no doubt, a confusion of pieces. It would be easier to think of

the Fantasia, Op. 77. Kalischer, who first recognized Thayer’s error,

thought of the C-sharp minor Quartet; but this cannot have been in

Beethoven’s mind, for it was composed much later.” Grossheim’s letter

was written in 1819; the C-sharp minor quartet was composed in 1826. So

Kalischer was ridiculously in error. But why does Dr. Deiters suggest

the Fantasia, Op. 77? Grossheim was a musician--composer, teacher and

conductor--as well as philologist, and when he said “C-sharp minor” it

is not likely that he was thinking of a work in G minor. Moreover, the

most admirable Dr. Deiters to the contrary notwithstanding, it is not

at all difficult to associate the sonata with the poem whose picture

of lamentable petition and rising clouds of incense is strikingly

reproduced in suggestion by the music of the first movement. Serene

hopefulness can be said to be the feeling which informs the second

movement; and why should the finale not be the musician’s continuation

of the poet’s story?

[108] Appendix II to the second volume of the German edition of this

work contains copies of all the documents in the legal controversies

which arose out of Beethoven’s charges against Artaria and Co. and

Mollo in the matter of the unauthorized publication of the Quintet.

They do not add much that is essential to the story as it has been

told, though they show that the legal authorities upheld the publishers

against the composer.

The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume I · 第 19 / 22 章