Chapter II

The Years 1820 and 1821--End of the Guardianship Litigation--A

Costly Victory--E. T. A. Hoffmann--Financial Troubles--Adagios and

English Hymn-tunes--Arrested as a Vagrant--Negotiations for the

Mass in D--The Last Pianoforte Sonatas.

[Sidenote: DEPARTURE OF OLD FRIENDS]

Almost involuntarily, in passing in review the incidents of the year

whose story has just been told and projecting a glance into the

near future, the question arises: Where, in these moments of doubt,

ill-health, trial, vexation of spirit and torment of body were the

old friends of Beethoven who in the earlier years had stood by him

faithfully and lovingly? Where was Stephan von Breuning? Alas! he

seems to have been an early sacrifice to Beethoven’s obstinate course

in respect of his nephew. Schindler says that he had advised against

the adoption of the boy and thus wounded Beethoven in his most

sensitive part. The temporary estrangement began in 1817. Some others

of the old friends may have been rebuffed in like manner; some, like

the faithful seneschal, Zmeskall, were ill; some were absent from

Vienna--Count Brunswick, Schuppanzigh; some were dead; in some the

flames of friendship may have died down because there was so little

in Beethoven’s public life to challenge their sympathy and support.

Count Lichnowsky has dropped out of the narrative and does not appear

for some years. What had happened to the ardent friend of the youthful

days, Count Waldstein? There is no answer. Once a Conversation Book

awakens curiosity and a hope. Somebody warns Beethoven in a public

place not to speak so loud, as everybody is listening. “Count Waldstein

is sitting near; where does he live?” Beethoven’s answer is unrecorded

and thus passes the only opportunity which the known material offers

from which might have been learned what caused the death of that

beautiful friendship. Bernard, Schindler, Oliva, Peters and Bach were

near to him, and the last was of incalculable value to him in his

great trial. But could they replace those who were gone?

Beethoven was become a lonely man--an enforced seeker of solitude. No

doubt many who would have been glad to give him their friendship were

deterred by the wide-spread reports of his suspicious, unapproachable,

almost repellant nature. But a miracle happens. Driven in upon

himself by the forces which seem to have been arrayed against

him, introspection opens wider and wider to him the doors of that

imagination which in its creative function, as Ruskin tells us, is “an

eminent beholder of things when and where they are not; a seer that is,

in the prophetic sense, calling the things that are not as though they

were; and for ever delighting to dwell on that which is not tangibly

present.” Now he proclaims a new evangel, illustrates a higher union of

beauty and truthfulness of expression, exalts art till it enters the

realm of religion.

In the _Tagebuch_ there stands a bold inscription written in February

of the year 1820: “The moral law in us, and the starry sky above

us--Kant.”[24] This and two other citations, the first of which

Beethoven surely culled from some book, also deserve to be set down

here as mottoes applicable to the creative work which occupied his mind

during the year and thereafter:

’Tis said that art is long and life is fleeting:--

Nay; life is long and brief the span of art!

If e’er her breath vouchsafes with gods a meeting,

A moment’s favor ’tis of which we’ve had a part.

The world is a king and desires flattery in return for favor; but

true art is perverse and will not submit to the mould of flattery.

Famous artists always labor under an embarrassment;--therefore,

first works are the best, though they may have sprung from dark

ground.

We can only record the fact that Beethoven began the year 1820, as

he had begun its immediate predecessor, by sending a New Year’s

greeting to the august pupil who was now almost continually in his

mind--Archduke Rudolph, soon to be Archbishop and Cardinal[25]--before

taking up the story of the incubus which oppressed the composer’s

mind, the clog which impeded his creative activities during much of

the year--the legal proceedings concerning the guardianship of nephew

Karl. Fortunately for the tinge of these pages the end is not distant.

Two applications made by Beethoven to the Court of Magistrates had been

denied and he now asked for a review of these decisions by the Court

of Appeals. The action of the Magistracy had grievously pained him, so

he informed the superior tribunal, and not only had his rights been

set aside, but no regard had been shown for the welfare of his nephew.

Against this he now sought relief, and he set forth his grievances: (1)

He was testamentary appointee and the _Landrecht_ had confirmed him and

excluded the mother; circumstances compelling his absence from Vienna,

he had arranged that Herr Nussböck should be appointed guardian _ad

interim_; back permanently in the city, his nephew’s welfare required

that he resume the guardianship; (2) The higher education which his

nephew’s talents demanded neither the mother nor Nussböck could

direct--the former because she was a woman and had conducted herself in

a manner which had led the _Landrecht_ to exclude her, Nussböck because

he was too much occupied with his duties as Municipal Sequestrator and,

having been no more than a paper-maker, he did not possess the insight

and judgment essential to the scientific education of the ward. (3)

Having no child of his own, his hopes were set on the boy, who was

unusually talented, yet he had been told that he had been held back

a year in his studies and that owing to a lack of funds he was to be

taken from the institution in which he had been placed and given in the

care of his mother; by her mismanagement the boy would be sacrificed,

it being the aim of the mother to expend his share of the pension

money on herself. He had declared to the Magistracy his willingness

to defray the costs at the institute and also to engage other masters

for the boy. Being “somewhat hard of hearing” communication with

him was difficult and therefore he had asked that a co-guardian

be appointed in the person of Herr Peters, Prince Lobkowitzsian

Councillor, whose knowledge and moral character would assure such a

training and education as were justified by the boy’s capacity. “I know

of no more sacred duty than the care and education of a child,” he

observes. He would offer no objection to the mother’s having a “sort of

joint-guardianship,” but its duties and privileges should be limited to

her visiting him and learning what plans were making for his education;

to permit more would be to compass the ruin of the boy.[26]

[Sidenote: AN APPEAL TO A HIGHER COURT]

This petition was filed on January 7, 1820; three days later the

Appellate Court commanded the Magistracy to file a report of the

proceedings had before it, together with all minutes and documents. The

Magistracy complied on February 5, citing its decision of September 17,

1819, and defending its action on the grounds that (a) Beethoven, owing

to his deafness and his hatred of the mother of the ward, was incapable

of acting as guardian; (b) the guardianship belonged to the mother by

right of law; (c) the commission of an act of infidelity against her

husband in 1811, for which she had suffered punishment, was no longer a

bar; (d) none of the alleged “injurious disturbances and interferences”

had been definitely set forth or proven:

If under injurious disturbances we are to understand that the

mother is desirous to see her child once every 14 days or 4 weeks,

or to convince herself about the wear and cleanliness of his

clothing, or to learn of his conduct toward his teachers, these can

appear injurious only in the eyes of the appellant; the rest of the

world, however, would find it amiss in a mother if she made inquiry

concerning her child only once a fortnight or month.

Answering the second charge, the magistrates urged that the appellant

seemed to ask of the mother and other guardian that they themselves

educate the boy in the sciences. For this not even the appellant was

fitted, at least he had not demonstrated such a fitness; he had left

the preparation for the higher studies to others and this the mother

and guardian could also do, having, indeed, a better plan, which was to

send the boy to the R. I. Convict, where he would surely make better

progress at smaller expense. _Ad tertium_, the failure of the boy to

advance in his classes could not be laid to the mother or guardian, but

must be charged against the appellant, who had taken the boy away from

his studies for the university after two months, kept him at home three

months, and sent him to another institution of learning at the end of

June; naturally enough he lost a school year.

The Court of Appeals demanded a more explicit report, which the

Magistracy filed on February 28, taking advantage of the opportunity to

review the proceedings had before the _Landrecht_ from the beginning,

and to make severe strictures on the conduct of Beethoven in filing

an exhibit (F) with his petition in support of which no evidence was

offered, though because of it the _Landrecht_ was asked to exclude the

mother from the guardianship which belonged to her under the law. Again

we quote:

This exclusion can have nothing for its foundation except the

misdemeanor of which the mother was guilty in 1811, for all the

rest contained in appellant’s exhibit F is unproven chatter to

which the _Landrecht_ could give no consideration, but which gives

speaking proof of how passionately and inimically the appellant

has always acted, and still acts, towards the mother, how little

he recks of tearing open wounds that were healed, since after

having endured punishment she stood rehabilitated; and yet he

reproaches her with a transgression for which she had atoned years

before, which had been pardoned by the injured husband himself who

petitioned for leniency in her sentence and who had declared her

capable and fit for the guardianship of his son in his last will

and testament, directing that the son be not taken away from his

mother. Regardless of this the appellant last year, certainly not

in the interest of the boy’s welfare, inasmuch as we have excellent

educational institutions here, but only to pain the mother, to

tear the heart out of her bosom, attempted to send him out of the

country to Landshut. Fortunately the government authorities, acting

on information derived from this court, frustrated the plan by

refusing a passport.

[Sidenote: DEPRAVITY OF KARL’S MOTHER]

Let us try now to take a dispassionate view of the case as thus far

presented in the pleadings and documents. Not only the law of nature

but the laws of the land justified the mother in asserting her right

to look after the physical well-being of her child and seeking to

enforce it. Dr. Bach seems to have impressed that fact upon Beethoven,

wherefore he declares his willingness in the bill of appeal to

associate her with himself in the guardianship to that extent. That the

Magistrates displayed unusual, not to say unjudicial zeal in her behalf

while defending their own course is indubitable; but we are in no

position to judge of the propriety of their course, which seems to have

been in harmony with the judicial procedure of the place and period,

least of all to condemn them, so long as it was permitted them so to

do, for having made a stout resistance when their acts were impugned

in the appeal to the higher court. The “Exhibit F,” filed in the

proceedings before the _Landrecht_, has not been found and its contents

can only be guessed at from the allusions to it in the documents.

Obviously it contained aspersions on the moral character of Madame van

Beethoven, and it may have been, nay, probably was, true that they were

unsupported by evidence and therefore undeserving of consideration in

a court either of law or equity. Perhaps they were not susceptible of

legal proof. It has been thought that Beethoven felt some hesitancy in

flaunting evidence of his sister-in-law’s infamy in the face of the

world,[27] but he certainly showed no disposition to spare her in his

letters, nor did he hesitate to accuse her of unmentionable things

by innuendo. In a Conversation Book of this year (1820) he writes of

her that she was “born for intrigue, accomplished in deceit, mistress

of all the arts of dissimulation.” On the other hand, it is singular

that the Magistrates in their final effort to justify their course

have nothing to say about the present moral standing of the woman

whose legal and natural rights they claimed to be upholding. Were they

in ignorance of what we now know, namely, that her conduct had not

only been reprehensible in 1811 (though condoned by her husband) but

continued so after her husband’s death? Schindler says that she gave

birth to a child while the case was pending, and that is confirmed by

a statement of Nephew Karl’s widow,[28] that in her old age Madame van

Beethoven lived in Baden with this illegitimate daughter, who was also

a dissolute woman.

But there are many anomalous things to the studious mind in the

proceedings which we are reporting, which differ greatly from anything

which could happen in a court of chancery or probate in Great Britain

or America to-day. It is certainly repugnant to our present legal

ethics that having filed a petition to reverse the action of one

court Beethoven should not only have written private letters to a

judge of the court of review, pleading his case on personal grounds,

but that his counsel should have advised him to visit members of the

higher court to present arguments in his behalf. But, no doubt, this

was consistent with the customs of Austria a century ago; and it is

what happened. Beethoven writes to Karl Winter, an _Appellationsrat_,

and his lawyer tells him to engage him and one of his colleagues,

Schmerling, in conversation on the subject. Perhaps Winter himself

questioned the propriety of the proceeding, for in a Conversation Book

somebody, who had evidently acted as messenger in the delivery of

the letter, writes: “I gave it to Herr v. Winter; he kept me waiting

and then said that he could give no answer, nor involve himself in a

correspondence.” The letter in question was written on March 6. In it

Beethoven says that he had prepared a memorial which he would place in

his hands in a few days. From the outline given it is plain that the

memorial contained a review of the case since the death of Beethoven’s

brother. It had been prepared, said Beethoven, “believing that I

owed it to myself to expose the falsity of the many slanders which

have been uttered against me and to lay bare the intrigues of Madame

van Beethoven against me to the injury of her own child, as also to

place in its proper light the conduct of the Magistrates’ Court.” He

charges that the Magistrates had summoned the widow and her son to a

hearing without his knowledge and, as his nephew had told him, he had

been urged and led on by his mother to make false accusations against

him. He had also forwarded a document which proved the wavering and

partisan conduct of the Magistrates. He repeats the charge about his

nephew’s failure to advance in his studies and adds that the boy had

had a hemorrhage which, had he not been on hand, might almost have cost

him his life. These things were not attributable to Herr Tuscher for

the reason that the Magistrates had given him too little support and

he could not proceed with sufficient energy--this the writer could do

in his capacity of uncle, guardian and defrayer of expenses. He asks

that if it becomes necessary he and his nephew be examined, cites his

expenditures to keep the boy two years in an educational institution,

saying that he had received nothing from the widow in nearly fourteen

months but would continue to pay the cost unselfishly in the future,

and had set apart 4,000 florins which was on deposit in bank and was to

go to his nephew on his death. Moreover, he had expectations from his

relations with the Archbishop of Olmütz, etc.

The case was prepared shrewdly, carefully and most discreetly by Dr.

Bach, who seems to have exerted an admirable influence on Beethoven

at this crisis. The nature of his advice may be learned from the

communication of Bernard in one of the recorded conversations. Bernard

is writing, and evidently giving the result of a consultation with

Dr. Bach. The Court of Appeals would ask another report from the

Magistrates and on its receipt would adjudge the case. Nussböck,

who Dr. Bach said was willing, should voluntarily retire from the

guardianship. Beethoven was asked as to the appointment of Tuscher;

had he resigned permanently or only temporarily in favor of Tuscher,

the better to accomplish the nephew’s removal from his mother? In what

manner had Tuscher abdicated, and had the Magistracy informed Beethoven

of the fact? It was necessary, said the adviser, to proceed with

moderation in all things so as to avoid the appearance of malice, and

the mother should not be assailed if it was at all avoidable, stress

being laid only on the fact that as a woman she ought not to have the

direction of the education of a boy of Karl’s age, not having the

requisite fitness. It would also be necessary for him, in case he were

asked, to state his readiness to defray the cost of the boy’s education

in the future and this, if the worst came to the worst, might be

followed by a threat to withdraw wholly from his care. Reproaches might

be made against him concerning the period when he had the boy with him,

the priests having taken to meddling in the matter, and it would be

well in the future not to take the boy to public eating-houses where he

would be observed and scandal fomented.

[Sidenote: APPOINTMENT OF A JOINT GUARDIANSHIP]

Bach seems to have advised Beethoven to visit two of the judges, Winter

and Schmerling, and himself had an interview with the boy, who told his

uncle what the advocate had questioned him about. For the nonce Karl

was on his good behavior. Blöchlinger reported favorably on his studies

to Bernard, and in a Conversation Book the boy apologized to his

uncle for some statements derogatory to him which he had made to the

Magistrates. “She promised me so many things,” he said, “that I could

not resist her; I am sorry that I was so weak at the time and beg your

forgiveness; I will not again permit myself to be led astray. I did not

know what results might follow when I told the Magistrates what I did;

but if there is another examination I will retract all the falsehoods

I uttered.” The magisterial commission which followed on March 29, had

plainly been held at the instance of the Appellate Court. Beethoven

was solemnly admonished, and in answer to questions declared: (1) that

he still demanded the guardianship of his nephew under the will and

would not relinquish his claim; (2) that he requested the appointment

of Councillor Peters as associate guardian; (3) that he demanded that

Madame van Beethoven be excluded from the guardianship as she had been

by the _Landrecht_, and (4) he reiterated his readiness to provide

financially for the care of his ward; he would accept an associate

guardian, but not a sole guardian, as he was convinced that no guardian

would care for his nephew as well as he. In insisting on a renewed

declaration on these points it is likely that the Court of Appeals

had some hope that Beethoven might voluntarily renounce or modify

his claims or the Magistrates recede from their attitude. Neither

contingency occurred, however, and on April 8 the reviewing court

issued its decree in Beethoven’s favor, he and Peters being appointed

joint guardians (_gemeinschaftliche Vormünde_), the mother and Nussböck

being deposed. The widow now played her last card:--she appealed to

the Emperor, who upheld the Court of Appeals. There was nothing for

the Magistracy to do except to notify the result of the appeals to

Beethoven, Madame van Beethoven, Peters and Nussböck. This was done on

July 24.

Beethoven had won at last. But at what a cost to himself, his art,

the world! What time, what labor, what energy had he not taken away

from his artistic creations! What had he not expended in the way of

peace of mind, of friendship, of physical comfort, of wear of brain

and nerve-force, for the privilege of keeping the boy to himself,

of watching unmolested over his physical welfare and directing his

intellectual and moral training unhindered! Surely such sacrifices,

inspired, as we know they were, by a transcendent sense of duty and

profoundest love, merited the rich reward of which he had dreamed--the

devotion of one who ought to have been all that a son could be, the

happiness of seeing the object of his love grow into a brilliant man

and a useful citizen. Was it vouchsafed him? Let us not in the midst

of his present happiness look too far into the future. Now his joy is

unbounded. He breaks into a jubilation when, in conveying the news

to Pinterics--that Pinterics who had sung the bass in “Ta, ta, ta,”

in honor of Mälzel: “Dr. Bach was my representative in this affair

and this Brook (_Bach_) was joined by the sea, lightning, thunder, a

tempest, and the magisterial brigantine suffered complete shipwreck!”

Schindler says that “his happiness over the triumph which he had

won over wickedness and trickery, but also because of the supposed

salvation from physical danger of his talented nephew, was so great

that he worked but little or not at all all summer--though this was

perhaps more apparent than real, the sketchbooks disclosing from now on

only empty pages.” A wise qualification, for though the sketchbooks may

have been empty, there is evidence enough elsewhere of hard work. Yet

the Mass was not finished, and for this unfortunate circumstance the

guardianship trial was no doubt largely to blame. To this subject we

shall return presently.

Of Peters, who was appointed joint guardian with Beethoven of the

nephew, little is known beyond what we learn from Beethoven and

Peters’s contributions to the Conversation Books. He was a tutor in

the house of Prince Lobkowitz and had been on terms of friendship with

Beethoven since 1816; his appointment by the court is a confirmation

of Beethoven’s tribute to him as a man of intellectual parts and of

good moral character. His wife had a good voice and was a great admirer

of Beethoven, who presented her with a copy of the song cycle “An die

ferne Geliebte.” A letter, once in the possession of John Ella in

London, which may be of earlier date than 1821, to which year it is,

however, most naturally assigned in view of the allusion to the “state

burden” (the nephew), runs as follows:

How are you? Are you well or ill? How is your wife? Permit me to

sing something for you:

[Illustration: Canon (Lively)

Saint Peter was a rock! St.]

[Illustration: Canon (Drawn out and dragged)

Bernardus was a Saint? Ber-]

How are your young princes? Will you be at home this afternoon at 5

o’clock? Perhaps I’ll visit you together with my _state_ burden.

[Sidenote: BAD CONDUCT OF NEPHEW KARL]

Nephew Karl remained at Blöchlinger’s institute and continued to cause

worry and anxiety to his uncle. Reports concerning his conduct and

studies were variable from different persons and at different times.

Blöchlinger complained that he needed constant supervision: “Had we

not always been strict with him, he would not be where he is now.”

A cleric declares that he was at heart not a bad child but had been

harmed by bad examples. “Karl has little feeling and in spite of the

knowledge for which he is praised he has no reasoning powers,” writes

an unidentified person in the Conversation Book, surely not to the

satisfaction of the uncle who was always setting forth his nephew’s

exceptional talent. In June somebody else (this time it may have

been Oliva) feels constrained to write: “The boy lies every time he

opens his mouth.” The “terrible occurrence” which had almost crushed

Beethoven in December, 1818, repeats itself, fortunately without such

dire results to the too sympathetic uncle: In June, instead of coming

to an oral examination, Karl ran away to his mother. Madame Blöchlinger

had to take a coach and servant and bring him back to the school; and

to get him away from Madame van Beethoven, who was disposed to keep

him in concealment, had to promise to see to it that he should not

be punished for his naughtiness. Now Blöchlinger, who says that the

presence of Madame van Beethoven “poisons the air,” wants the woman

excluded from his house and asks for a power of attorney to call in

the help of the police every time that Karl shall go to his mother,

whom he calls a “notorious strumpet,” of whose presence in his house

he must needs be ashamed. All this was told to Beethoven by Bernard,

who had learned it from Blöchlinger. Beethoven went for advice to Bach,

who told his client that it was impracticable to get a judicial writ

against the mother enjoining her from meeting her son, and impossible

to prevent secret meetings and secret correspondence. The practical

solution of the problem was to have Blöchlinger refuse to admit the

woman to his institute and compel her to see Karl at his uncle’s home.

This would serve the purpose to some extent, as the mother did not like

to meet her brother-in-law.

The enthronization of Beethoven’s imperial pupil as Archbishop of

Olmütz took place on March 20. The Mass which was to have been the

composer’s tribute was still unfinished. The reader knows why, or at

least has been provided with an opportunity to form an opinion as to

the reason. It may have been for the purpose of offering an explanation

to the new dignitary of the church, that Beethoven sought an audience

as he states in a letter of April 3. The Archducal Archbishop had gone

to Olmütz and Beethoven wants to know his plans for the immediate

future. He had heard that H. I. H. was to return to Vienna in May,

but also that he intended to be absent for a year and a half. If so,

Beethoven deplores that he has made plans for himself which are unwise.

He begs H. I. H. not to give credence to the false reports concerning

himself (Beethoven) which might reach his ears: “If Y. I. H. calls me

one of your most treasured objects, I can honestly say that Y. I. H.

is to me one of the most treasured objects in the universe. Although

I am no courtier, I believe that Y. I. H. has learned to know me well

enough to know that no cold interest, but a sincere affection, has

always attached me to yourself and inspired me; and I might well say

that Blondel was found long ago, and if no Richard is to be found in

the world for me, God will be my Richard.” He has evidently concerned

himself about the music at the court in Olmütz: “It appears to me that

my idea to maintain a quartet will certainly be the best thing to do.

If there are already productions on a large scale in Olmütz, something

admirable might arise in Moravia through a quartet.” He advises

his pupil, in case it is his purpose to return in May, to keep his

compositions till then so as to play them first to him; but if his stay

is to be longer, he will receive the compositions with the greatest

pleasure and seek to guide H. I. H. “to the highest peaks of Parnassus.”

[Sidenote: A PUNNING CANON ON HOFMANN]

A reference to himself as one who was at court yet not a courtier had

been made by Beethoven in an earlier letter. This play on words seems

to have been much in his head about this time and it is small wonder

that when an opportunity offered for the employment of the pun in a

canon it should have been embraced; in fact, it looks as if possibly he

had strained for the occasion, unless it should appear from evidence

yet to be found that “One who was named Hoffmann,” in Beethoven’s

words, was, as was long believed, the redoubtable E. T. A. Hoffmann,

who had surely deserved the tribute contained in a canon which

Beethoven wrote at this time. In the Conversation Book used in March,

1820, a strange hand writes: “In the _Phantasie-Stücke_ by Hoffmann,

you are often spoken of. Hoffmann was musical director in Bamberg; he

is now Government Councillor. Operas of his composition are performed

in Berlin.” Beethoven remarks, in writing: “Hofmann du bist kein

_Hofmann_.” Later in a conversation held at table, these words occur

twice: “Hŏfmānn ÷ sei ja kein Hōfmănn--nein ÷ ÷ ÷ ich heisse Hŏfmānn

und bin kein Hōfmănn.” These words are preceded by a measure of music,

the beginning of the canon in question. Did Beethoven thus honor the

fantastic poet, musician, novelist, essayist, singer, scene-painter and

theatrical manager who had shown such keen critical appreciation of

his symphonies? It was long a pleasure to believe so and natural, too,

until Nottebohm came with his iconoclastic evidence to the contrary.

On March 23 Beethoven had written a letter to Hoffmann, expressing his

gratification at having won the good opinion of a man gifted with such

excellent attributes as Hoffmann possessed. Had he written the canon

at this time he would surely have enclosed it in this letter and then,

since it was preserved among Hoffmann’s papers, it would have been

found and given to the world with the letter. But Beethoven kept the

canon in his mind or had a copy of it, and printed it in 1825, when B.

Schott’s Sons in Mayence asked him for a contribution to their musical

journal “Cäcilia,” which had been founded a year before. Now comes

Nottebohm with his evidence in the case. A man named Gross was once

the owner of the autograph and his son told Nottebohm that it had been

written in the Matschaker Hof, a tavern at which Beethoven was dining

at the time, and referred to a church musician named Vincenz Hoffmann,

as the informant remembered the name. Nottebohm looked through the

official lists of musicians in Vienna in the first decades of the

century; he did not find a Vincenz, but did find a Joachim Hoffmann who

might have been an acquaintance of Beethoven’s; and so he set him down

as the recipient of the composer’s tribute.[29]

In the summer of 1820, Beethoven went to Mödling again, but he did not

take the lodgings in the Harfner house for the very sufficient reason

that the proprietor had served notice on him in 1819, that he could

not have it longer on account of the noisy disturbances which had

taken place there. He took a house instead in the Babenbergerstrasse

and paid twelve florins extra for the use of a balcony which commanded

a view which was essential to his happiness. He takes the baths and

receives a visit from his nephew, who probably stays with him during

his school vacation; at any rate, the boy does not return to Vienna

until October 5, on which day the Giannatasios, making an excursion

to Mödling, meet him with Karl driving to town. There is at this time

considerable talk in the Conversation Book of publishing a complete

edition of Beethoven’s works. Bernard, probably, tells him that Steiner

is already counting on it and Schindler, who is enthusiastic over the

project, gives it as his opinion that arrangements must be made with

a Vienna publisher so as to avoid voluminous correspondence. Somebody

remarks: “Eckstein will so arrange it that you will always get all

the profits and will also publish your future works as your property.

He thinks that every fourth or fifth piece should be a new one.” The

plan appealed strongly to Beethoven, but nothing came of it at the

time, though we shall hear of it later. It was the discussion of it,

probably, by his friends which brought out a letter from Beethoven to

Haslinger, “best of Adjutants,” asking him to decide a bet. Beethoven

had wagered 10 florins that it was not true that the Steiners had

been obliged to pay Artaria 2000 florins damages for having published

Mozart’s works, which were reprinted universally.

Towards the end of October, Beethoven returned to Vienna and took

lodgings at No. 244 Hauptstrasse in the Landstrasse, “the large house

of the Augustinians” beside the church. There he was visited by Dr.

W. Chr. Müller of Bremen, a philologist and musical amateur who had

long admired Beethoven and, with the help of his “Family Concerts,”

established in 1782, had created such a cult for Beethoven’s music as

existed in no city in Germany in the second decade of the nineteenth

century--according to Schindler. Müller’s daughter Elise played the

sonatas exceptionally well and was largely instrumental with her father

in creating this cult. Müller was making an Italian tour, visited

Vienna in October and November and published an account of his meetings

with Beethoven in the “Allg. Musik. Zeit.” in 1827. In this he tells

of Beethoven’s freedom of speech at public eating-houses, where he

would criticize the Austrian government, the morals of the aristocracy,

the police, etc., without stint. The police paid no attention to his

utterances, either because they looked upon him as a harmless fantastic

or had an overwhelming respect for his artistic genius. “Hence,” says

Dr. Müller, “his opinion that nowhere was speech freer than in Vienna;

but his ideal of a political constitution was the English one.” It was

through Dr. Müller that we know somewhat of Beethoven’s views on the

subject of analytical programmes. Among the zealous promoters of the

Beethoven cult in Bremen, was a young poet named Dr. Karl Iken, editor

of the “Bremer Zeitung,” who, inspired by the _Familien-Concerte_,

conceived the idea of helping the public to an understanding of

Beethoven’s music by writing programmatic expositions of the symphonies

for perusal before the concerts. Some of his lucubrations were sent

to Beethoven by Dr. Müller, and aroused the composer’s ire. Schindler

found four of these “programmes” among Beethoven’s papers, and he gave

the world a specimen. In the Seventh Symphony, Dr. Iken professed to

see a political revolution.

[Sidenote: “PROGRAMME” FOR THE SEVENTH SYMPHONY]

The sign of revolt is given; there is a rushing and running about

of the multitude; an innocent man, or party, is surrounded,

overpowered after a struggle and haled before a legal tribunal.

Innocency weeps; the judge pronounces a harsh sentence; sympathetic

voices mingle in laments and denunciations--they are those of

widows and orphans; in the second part of the first movement the

parties have become equal in numbers and the magistrates are now

scarcely able to quiet the wild tumult. The uprising is suppressed,

but the people are not quieted; hope smiles cheeringly and suddenly

the voice of the people pronounces the decision in harmonious

agreement.... But now, in the last movement, the classes and the

masses mix in a variegated picture of unrestrained revelry. The

quality still speak aloofly in the wind-instruments,--strange

bacchantic madness in related chords--pauses, now here, now

there--now on a sunny hill, anon on flowery meadow where in merry

May all the jubilating children of nature vie with each other with

joyful voices--float past the fancy.

It is scarcely to be wondered at that such balderdash disgusted and

even enraged Beethoven. In the fall of 1819, he dictated a letter

to Müller--it has, unfortunately been lost--in which he protested

energetically against such interpretations of his music. He pointed

out, says Schindler, who wrote the letter for him, the errors to

which such writings would inevitably give rise. If expositions

were necessary, they should be confined to characterization of the

composition in general terms, which could easily and correctly be done

by any educated musician.

Beethoven’s complaints concerning his financial condition were chronic

and did not cease even in periods where extraordinary receipts make

them difficult to understand. That the lamentations in his letters

during the two years which we have in review were well-founded,

however, is no doubt true. With so engrossing a work as the “Missa

solemnis” on hand there could not have been much time for such

potboilers as he mentions and the other sources of revenue were not

many. From the records which are at hand, we know something about a

few of his monetary transactions. On October 26, 1820, he collected

300 florins on account, apparently, from Artaria and Co., through his

old friend Oliva. Shortly after his return to Vienna from the country,

he asks the same firm, from which he had borrowed 750 florins,[30] for

a further loan of 150 to save himself the necessity of selling one

of his bank shares. These shares, it will be remembered in partial

extenuation or at least explanation of some of his actions which are

scarcely compatible with his protestations of his unswerving honesty

in business transactions, had been set apart by him as his nephew’s

legacy and he clung to them as to a sacred pledge. He promises to repay

Artaria in three months and meanwhile to send him a composition in one,

two or more movements, without honorarium. An incident which shows

him in an unamiable light is connected with his financial relations

with the publisher Steiner. On December 29, 1820, Steiner wrote him a

letter which did not see the public eye until published in the “Neue

Freie Presse” newspaper of Vienna on August 17, 1900. Steiner had sent

Beethoven a dun, or at least a statement of account, and Beethoven had,

evidently, been both rude and unreasonable in his reply. We quote from

Steiner:

[Sidenote: INDEBTEDNESS TO STEINER]

I cannot rest content with your remarks concerning the account

sent you; for the cash money loaned you I have charged you only 6%

interest, while for the money which you deposited with me I paid

you 8% promptly in advance and also repaid the capital promptly.

What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander (_Was also

dem Einen recht ist, muss dem Andern billig sein_). I am not in a

position to lend money without interest. As a friend I came to your

help in need, I trusted your word of honor and believe that I have

not been importunate, nor have I plagued you in any way; wherefore

I must solemnly protest against your upbraidings. If you recall

that my loan to you was made in part 5 years ago, you will yourself

confess that I am not an urgent creditor. I would spare you even

now and wait patiently if I were not on my honor in need of cash

for my business. If I were less convinced that you are really in a

position to give me relief and able to keep your _word of honor_

I would, difficult as it would be for me, right gladly remain

patient a while longer; but when I remember that I myself returned

to you 4,000 florins, conventional coin, or 10,000 florins, Vienna

Standard, as capital 17 months ago and at your request did not

deduct the amount due me, it is doubly painful to me now to be

embarrassed because of my good will and my trust in your word of

honor. Every man knows best where the shoe pinches and I am in this

case; wherefore I conjure you again not to leave me in the lurch

and to find means to liquidate my account as soon as possible.

As for the rest I beg you to accept from me the compliments of the

season together with the request that you continue to give me your

favor and friendship. It will rejoice me if you keep your word

and honor me soon with a visit; it rejoices me more that you have

happily withstood your illness and are again restored to health.

God preserve you long in health, contentment and enjoyment, this is

the wish of your wholly devoted

S. A. Steiner.

The letter contains pencil memoranda by Beethoven. He has evidently

added together the various sums which he owes Steiner and they amount

to 2420 florins W. W. He remarks that 1300 florins was received

“probably” in 1816 or 1817; 750 florins “perhaps” in 1819; 300

florins “are debts which I assumed for Madame van Beethoven and

can be chargeable for only a few years; the 70 florins may have

been for myself in 1819. Payment may be made of 1200 florins a year

in semi-annual payments.” A further memorandum on the cover notes

Steiner’s willingness to accept payments on April 15 and October

15, 1821. The settlements seem to have been made. On April 1, 1821,

Beethoven collected 600 florins from the estate of Kinsky, being

one-half of the annuity for the year September 1820 to September 1821.

He also persuaded his friend Franz Brentano to advance him money on

the amount for which he sold the “Missa Solemnis” to Simrock in Bonn,

though he did not give him the Mass for publication in the end. But

this is a matter which can be better discussed in connection with the

incidents in the history of the compositions which fall within the

present period.

The beginning of the year 1821 found him still at his home in the

suburb Landstrasse, and, it would seem, working as hard as his health

permitted. When he went to the country for the summer he went to

Unterdöbling and thence, after September, to Baden to take a cure

prescribed by his physician, Dr. Staudenheimer. In Baden he lived

in the Rathshausgasse. He had suffered from rheumatism during the

preceding winter and now became a victim of jaundice, for which, no

doubt, he was sent to Baden, though he had gotten rid of the disease

to some extent at least by the end of August. The cure prescribed by

Staudenheimer was more severe than he could endure and, as he writes

to Franz Brentano on November 12, 1821, he had to “flee to Vienna,”

where he was more comfortable. The attack of jaundice may have been an

_arant-courier_ of the disease of the liver which brought him to the

grave six years later. He expresses a fear in a letter to the Archduke

(July 18, 1821) that it might prevent him for a long time from waiting

upon his pupil. There is the usual monetary complaint in the letter,

which concludes with: “God who knows my heart and how sacredly I

fulfill all the duties commanded by humanity, God and nature will some

day free me from this affliction.”

In 1820 the voice of an old English admirer reaches him with a request

which must have seemed strange to him. William Gardiner, as has been

told in the chapter in the first volume of this work devoted to the

compositions of the Bonn period, was one of the first proclaimers of

Beethoven’s evangel in England. He had now compiled and composed a sort

of _pasticcio_, an oratorio entitled “Judah,” piecing the work out

with original compositions where he had failed to find music written

by others which he could use. In his book “Music and Friends” (III,

377) he relates that he had hoped to get an original composition for

“Judah” in the shape of an appropriate overture, and to this end had

written a letter to Beethoven and forwarded it to Vienna through Baron

Neumann of the Austrian Embassy, who, on receiving it, had remarked

that it was doubtful if an answer would be received, as Beethoven held

no communication with the world. Gardiner’s letter was as follows:

To Louis van Beethoven.

Dear Sir:

At the house of Lady Bowater in Leicestershire in 1796, I met with

your Trio in E-flat (for Violin, Viola and Bass). Its originality

and beauty gave me inexpressible delight; indeed it was a new

sense to me. Ever since I have anxiously endeavoured to procure

your compositions as much so as the war could permit. Allow me

to present to you the first volume of my “Sacred Melodies” which

contain your divine Adagios appropriated to the British church. I

am now engaged upon a work entitled “The Oratorio of Judah” giving

a history of that peculiar people from the Jewish scriptures. The

object of this letter is to express a hope that I may induce you to

compose an Overture for this work upon which you can bring all the

force of your sublime imagination (if it please you) in the key of

D minor. For this service my friend Mr. Clementi will accept your

draft upon him for one hundred guineas.

I have the honour to be, dear Sir,

Your faithful servant

William Gardiner.

There is no date, but as “Judah” was criticized in “The Musical Review”

in 1821, it is presumable that the letter was written in 1820. Gardiner

deplores the fact that he received no reply from Beethoven, although

the Empress had thanked him for a copy of the “Sacred Melodies” which

he had sent to her. Evidently he did not realize that Beethoven was not

the man to feel complimented by having his “divine Adagios” turned into

hymn-tunes. An occurrence which may have cost Beethoven a pang was the

loss of his faithful helper Oliva, who took his passport in December,

1820, and went to St. Petersburg, where he settled as a teacher of

languages.

[Sidenote: A PORTRAIT PAINTED BY STIELER]

Another of the portraits of Beethoven which have been made familiar

by reproductions was painted in 1820, though begun in 1819. Joseph

Stieler, who enjoyed wide reputation as a portrait painter, had

come to Vienna from Munich to paint the portrait of Emperor Franz

in the latter year. He remained till some time in 1820 and made the

acquaintance of Beethoven through a letter of introduction probably

given to him by Brentano. Beethoven took a liking to him and gave

him some sittings--three, according to the testimony of the painter

himself, thus disproving Schindler’s statement that “sitting after

sitting was granted and never a complaint uttered.” On the contrary,

the Conversation Book presents the artist as pleading for a little

more time; and because Beethoven refused to sit longer, Stieler had to

exercise his imagination or memory in painting the hands. In fact, the

painting never received the finishing touches but remained, as those

who have seen it testify, “sketchy.” In March Stieler writes in the

Conversation Book: “Have you written to Frankfort that I have begun

your portrait?--You must determine the destination of the picture.

I say that I am painting it for myself.” In April Stieler asks the

question: “In what key is your mass? I want to write on the sheet:

(Mass in--)” Beethoven writes the answer: “_Missa solemnis in D_,” and

Stieler: “After it has been exhibited I shall send it to Brentano--I

thank you thousands and thousands of times for so much patience.”

Beethoven’s friends refer frequently to the picture in their written

conversations with Beethoven. One says: “That you have been painted _en

face_ is the result of more extended study of your physiognomy. This

view shows your spirit much better than a profile.” Schindler writes

that he prefers the portrait by Schimon: “There is more character

in it--all agree on that--You were very well two years ago; now you

are always ailing.” J. Czerny writes: “We were just talking about

your portrait. Oliva thinks you are well hit off.” The artist visits

Beethoven again at Mödling in July and writes: “Before the exhibition

I shall paint your portrait again, but full life-size. Your head makes

an excellent effect full face, and it was so appropriate because Haydn

was on one side and Mozart on the other.” Stieler dated the canvass

“1819,” but this can only refer to the time when it was begun. It

remained for a while in the possession of the family of the painter,

then passed through several hands by purchase until it reached those of

Countess Sauerma in Berlin, in whose possession it was when Frimmel

and Kalischer inspected it for purposes of description. Schindler says

it reproduces Beethoven’s characteristic expression faithfully and that

it met with approval, though fault was found with the pose. Beethoven’s

contemporaries were not used to see him with his head bowed down as

Stieler represents him; on the contrary, he carried his head high

even when suffering physical pain. A lithographic reproduction of the

portrait was made by Fr. Dürck and published by Artaria in 1826.

In April, 1860, the author[31] had a conversation with Horzalka in

which the latter spoke very highly of Schindler and his disinterested

fidelity to Beethoven. Horzalka also said that in 1820 or 1821, as near

as he could recollect, the wife of a Major Baumgarten took boy boarders

in a house then standing where the Musikverein’s hall now stands in

Vienna. Her sister, Baroness Born, lived with her. Frau Baumgarten had

a son who studied at Blöchlinger’s Institute, and Beethoven’s nephew

was amongst her boarders. One evening Horzalka called there and found

only the Baroness Born at home. Soon another caller came and stayed to

tea. It was Beethoven. Among other topics, Mozart came on the tapis and

the Baroness asked Beethoven, in writing of course, which of Mozart’s

operas he thought most of. “Die Zauberflöte,” said Beethoven and,

suddenly clasping his hands and throwing up his eyes exclaimed, “Oh,

Mozart!” As Horzalka had, as was the custom, always considered “Don

Giovanni” the greatest of Mozart’s operas, this opinion by Beethoven

made a very deep impression upon him. Beethoven invited the Baroness to

come to his lodgings and have a look at his Broadwood pianoforte.

[Sidenote: ARRESTED AS A VAGRANT]

In 1820 Professor Höfel, who lived at Salzburg in the last years of his

life and who engraved the Latronne portrait of Beethoven for Artaria,

was appointed to a professorship of drawing in Wiener Neustadt. A year

or two afterward, as he said,[32] he was one evening with Eisner and

other colleagues in the garden of the tavern “Zum Schleifen,” a little

way out of town. The Commissioner of Police was a member of the party.

It was autumn and already dark when a constable came and said to the

Commissioner: “Mr. Commissioner, we have arrested somebody who will

give us no peace. He keeps on yelling that he is Beethoven; but he’s

a ragamuffin, has no hat, an old coat, etc.--nothing by which he can

be identified.” (_Herr Commissär, wir haben Jemand arretirt, welcher

uns kein’ Ruh gibt. Er schreit immer dass er Beethoven sei. Er ist

aber ein Lump, hat kein’ Hut, alter Rock, etc., kein Aufweis wer er

ist, etc._) The Commissioner ordered that the man be kept under arrest

until morning, “then we will examine him and learn who he is.” Next

morning the company was very anxious to know how the affair turned

out, and the Commissioner said that about 11 o’clock at night he was

waked by a policeman with the information that the prisoner would

give them no peace and had demanded that Herzog, Musical Director in

Wiener Neustadt, be called to identify him. So the Commissioner got up,

dressed, went out and waked up Herzog, and in the middle of the night

went with him to the watchhouse. Herzog, as soon as he cast eyes on

the man exclaimed, “That _is_ Beethoven!” He took him home with him,

gave him his best room, etc. Next day came the burgomaster, making all

manner of apologies. As it proved, Beethoven had got up early in the

morning, and, slipping on a miserable old coat and, without a hat, had

gone out to walk a little. He got upon the towpath of the canal and

kept on and on; seems to have lost his direction, for, with nothing to

eat, he had continued on until he brought up at the canal-basin at the

Ungerthor. Here, not knowing where he was, he was seen looking in at

the windows of the houses, and as he looked so like a beggar the people

had called a constable who arrested him. Upon his arrest the composer

said, “I am Beethoven.” “Of course, why not?” (_Warum nicht gar?_)

said the policeman; “You’re a tramp: Beethoven doesn’t look so.” (_Ein

Lump sind Sie; so sieht der Beethoven nicht aus._) Herzog gave him

some decent clothes and the burgomaster sent him back to Baden, where

he was then living, in the magisterial state-coach. This simple story

is the foundation for the fine narrative related as a fact in Vienna

that Beethoven had got into this scrape following troops from Vienna

who had a sham battle near Wiener Neustadt, and taking notes for his

“Wellington’s Victory”--which whole story thus goes to the wall.

A letter written from Baden on September 10, 1821, to Tobias Haslinger

accompanying a canon[33] on the words “O Tobias _dominus_ Haslinger,

O, O!” deserves to be given here to show that Beethoven’s high spirits

could at times dominate him in spite of his general misery.

Very best fellow!

Yesterday, in the carriage on the way to Vienna, I was overcome by

sleep, naturally enough, since (because of my early rising here)

I had never slept well. While thus slumbering I dreamed that I

had made a long journey--to no less distant a country than Syria,

no less than India, back again, no less than Arabia, finally I

reached Jerusalem; the Holy City aroused in me thoughts of Holy

Writ and small wonder that the man Tobias now occurred to me, and

how natural that our little Tobias should enter my mind and the

_pertobiasser_, and now during my dream journey the following canon

came to me: “O Tobias _dominus_ Haslinger, O, O!” But scarcely

awakened, away went the canon and nothing of it would come back

to my memory. But when, next day, I was on my way hither in the

same conveyance (that of a poor Austrian musician) and continued

the dream journey of the day before, now awake, behold, according

to the laws of association of ideas, the same canon occurred to

me again; now fully awake I held it fast, as erst Menelaus held

Proteus, only allowing it to change itself into 3 voices.

Farewell. Presently I shall send you something on Steiner to show

you that he has no stony (_steinernes_) heart. Farewell, very best

of fellows, we ever wish that you will always belie your name of

publisher (_Verleger_) and never become embarrassed (_verlegen_)

but remain a publisher (_Verleger_) never at a loss (_verlegen_)

either in receiving or paying--Sing the epistles of St. Paul every

day, go to pater Werner,[34] who will show you the little book by

which you may go to heaven in a jiffy. You see my anxiety for your

soul’s salvation; and I remain with the greatest pleasure from

everlasting to everlasting,

Your most faithful debtor

Beethoven.

[Sidenote: NEGOTIATIONS FOR THE MASS IN D]

And now as to the creative work of the two years. Paramount attention

must be given to the Mass in D, which, though long in hand and destined

for a function in which Beethoven and his Imperial Archepiscopal pupil

were profoundly concerned, was yet incomplete when the time for that

function arrived. Archduke Rudolph was installed as Archbishop of

Olmütz on March 20, 1820. Exactly what condition the Mass was in at

that time we have no means of knowing; it was, however, in a sufficient

state of forwardness to enable Beethoven to begin negotiations for its

publication. On March 18 he wrote to Simrock:

As regards the mass, I have pondered the matter carefully and might

give it to you for the honorarium of 100 Louis d’ors which you

offered me, provided you agree to a few conditions which I shall

propose and which I think, will not be found burdensome by you. We

have gone through the plan for publication here and believe that

with a few modifications it can be put into effect very soon, which

is very necessary; wherefore I shall make haste to inform you of

the necessary changes soon.

This would seem to indicate that the work had been practically

completed, and that this view obtained amongst Beethoven’s friends we

know from the evidence of the Conversation Books. In the summer at

Mödling he was frequently asked if it was finished and when it would

be performed. Some hurried sketches belonging to the _Credo_ are found

amongst the remarks of his friends, and also sketches for the _Agnus

Dei_. Schindler asks him in August: “Is the _Benedictus_ written out in

score? Are those sketches for the _Agnus_?” Rudolph had communicated

to him his intention to spend a part of the summer in Mödling.

Beethoven writes to him on August 3 and September 2, making apologies

for apparent neglect in not waiting upon him (he had no carriage the

first time, was in ill-health the second), but says not a word about

the mass. Some of the remarks in the Conversation Book are vague as to

the composition referred to, but many are plain enough to show that

Beethoven had informed his friends and advisers of the negotiations

with Simrock. Surprise is expressed at Simrock’s delay. Beethoven is

advised to write to him and also to Brentano in Frankfort, who had

been authorized to collect the honorarium. In April somebody writes:

“Have you written to Simrock that he _must not_ publish the mass at

once, as you want first to send it or hand it to the Archduke?” Again:

“If you send the _Recepisse_ of the stage-coach he will certainly send

you the money _at once_.” And later: “It would be quicker to give the

music to the stage-coach and send Brentano the receipt--at the same

time informing Simrock that Brentano had been assured of its despatch;

then Brentano can send you the money at once without waiting to receive

the music.” In April again: “But he has not yet replied to your last

offer of the mass? I mean Simrock--200 ducats could help you out

greatly--Because of _your circumstances_. You must not delay writing to

Simrock or Brentano. Brentano can send you the money _at once_--or at

least very soon.” “I am surprised that Simrock has not answered yet.”

Meanwhile Simrock answers. “Leave Simrock’s letter with me,” says the

mentor, “I’ll answer it and give you the letter this afternoon--if you

are satisfied with it you will sign it and I will post it to-morrow.

There must be no delay.” “He says the mass can be used only by

Catholics, which is not true.” “He is paying too little rather than too

much with 200 ducats.”

It is obvious that some difficulty had arisen between Beethoven and

Simrock. What that difficulty was is explained in a letter from

Simrock to Brentano dated November 12, 1820. It was a misunderstanding

concerning the price of the “new grand musical mass” which the

composer wished to sell for 100 Louis d’ors. The publisher had agreed

to the price, understanding Louis d’ors to mean what the term meant

in Bonn, Leipsic and throughout Germany, namely, the equivalent of

Friedrichs d’ors, pistoles. In order to avoid unpleasantness after the

reception of the mass he had explained this clearly to Beethoven and in

a letter, dated September 23, had repeated that by Louis d’ors he meant

Friedrichs d’ors; he was not in a position to give more. He would hold

the sum in readiness against the receipt of the mass, which Beethoven

had promised to provide with German as well as Latin words. He was also

under the impression that he had asked a speedy decision, as he did

not want to keep his money tied up in Frankfort. Hearing nothing for

four weeks he had quit counting on the mass and made other use of his

money. Learning, however, from Brentano’s letter of November 8th that

Beethoven had agreed to let him have the mass, he now finds himself in

the embarrassment of not having the gold Louis d’ors on hand, but as

Brentano had said nothing on the subject he would in the meantime try

to secure the coin, unless Brentano were willing to take the equivalent

in florins at the rate of 9.36. He asked to be informed of the arrival

of the music so that he might instruct Heinrich Verhuven to receive it

on paying the sum mentioned.

Simrock waited four weeks before abandoning hope that Beethoven would

send the mass; it was ten weeks and more before Beethoven answered

Simrock’s letter. Then he sent his reply to Brentano enclosed in a

letter dated November 28. The letter has not been found, or at least

not made public; but the letter to Brentano[35] makes it plain that

Beethoven had acceded to Simrock’s offer and agreed to take pistoles

for Louis d’ors. He says:

Your kindness permits me to hope that you will not refuse to have

the enclosure sent to Simrock, inasmuch as in it my views are set

forth concerning the whole matter. Nothing remains now except to

take what he offers, namely the 100 pistoles and as much more as

you, an expert in the business, can get for me by the rate of

exchange. I am convinced of your kind disposition in this regard.

I am very hard-pressed just now, but such things are to be told

_last of all to a publisher_; it is, thank God, not my fault, but

my sacrifices for others, chiefly, too, for the weak Cardinal who

led me into this morass and does not know how to help himself. As

soon as the translation is finished I shall trouble you again by

sending you the mass, and I pray you give a little attention then

to securing what you can for me from the Jewish[36] publisher.

Thus matters stand with the Mass at the end of 1820, and thus they

seem to have remained throughout the next year. Simrock always was to

be but never was blest with the score. On July 18, 1821, Beethoven

promises to put the work into the Archduke’s hands “while here”--i. e.,

at Unterdöbling; he leaves the reasons for the delay to the imagination

of his patron: “the details might prove anything but pleasant to Y. I.

H.” In November he thinks again of Simrock and on the 12th writes to

Brentano:

The mass might have been sent before this, but had to be _carefully

looked through_, for the publishers in other countries do not get

along well with my manuscript, as I know from experience, and a

copy for the engraver must be examined note by note. Moreover,

I could not come because of illness, the more since despite

everything I have been compelled to make a considerable number

of potboilers (as unfortunately I must call them). I think I am

justified in making an attempt to get Simrock to reckon the Louis

d’ors at a higher rate, inasmuch as several applications have been

made from other quarters, concerning which I shall write you soon.

As for the rest, do not question my honesty; frequently I think of

nothing except that your kind advance may soon be repaid.

[Sidenote: LOAN ADVANCED ON THE MASS]

It seems a fair inference from the concluding remark, together with

the advice of his friend or friends in the Conversation Book of the

previous summer concerning a collection through Brentano as soon as the

mass had been handed over to the stage-coach, that Beethoven had got an

advance from Brentano on the money which was awaiting the arrival of

the work in Frankfort. The following letter to Brentano strengthens the

inference:

Vienna, December 20, 1821.

Noble man!

I am awaiting another letter respecting the mass, which I shall

send you to give you an insight into the whole affair. In any event

the entire honorarium will be paid to you whereupon you will please

deduct the amount of my indebtedness to you, my gratitude to you

will always be unbounded. I was so presumptuous as without asking

to dedicate a composition of mine to your daughter Maxe, please

accept the deed as a mark of my continual devotion to you and your

entire family--do not misinterpret the dedication as prompted by

interest or as a recompense--this would pain me greatly. There are

nobler motives to which such things may be ascribed if reasons must

be found. The new year is about to enter, may it fulfil all your

wishes and daily increase your happiness as the father of a family

in your children. I embrace you cordially and beg you to present

my compliments to your excellent, only and glorious Toni.

Yours, etc.

I have received from here and elsewhere offers of 200 ducats in

gold for the mass. I think I can get 100 florins W. W. more. On

this point I am waiting for a letter which I will send you at once,

the matter might then be presented to Simrock, who will certainly

not expect me to lose so much. Till then please be patient and do

not think that you have acted magnanimously towards an unworthy man.

[Sidenote: THREE SONATAS AT A BREATH]

Brentano informed Simrock of the situation; but the subject is now

carried over into the next year and must be left for the nonce, while

we take up the history of some other compositions. The last three

pianoforte sonatas, Op. 109, 110 and 111, belong to this period.

Also the Bagatelles Op. 119, Nos. 7 to 11 inclusive. Their story

is known. Friedrich Starcke, Chapelmaster of an Austrian regiment

of infantry, had undertaken the publication of a pianoforte method

which he called the “Wiener Pianoforteschule.” Part III of the work,

which appeared early in 1821, contained these five Bagatelles under

the title “Trifles” (_Kleinigkeiten_). Above them Starcke printed:

“A contribution from the great composer to the publisher.” They must

have been asked for in 1820. Somewhere about February of that year an

unidentified hand writes in the Conversation Book: “Starcke wants a

little music-piece by you for the second part of his _Klavierschule_,

for which he has contributions from the leading composers besides short

notices.... We must give him something. Notwithstanding his great

deserts in music and literature he is extremely modest, industrious

and humble.... He understands the art of compiling well. There are now

weaklings everywhere even among the strong.” To this appeal Beethoven

yielded. He wrote the five Bagatelles, sketches for which are found

amongst some for the Sonata in E major (Op. 109) and the _Benedictus_

of the mass. No. 6 is also sketched among studies for the _Credo_. No

doubt these little pieces were some of the “potboilers” (_Brodarbeit_)

referred to in the letter to Brentano; also some folksong arrangements;

and it may even be, that Beethoven included also the three great

sonatas. Schindler relates that when Beethoven heard that it was

bruited about that he had written himself out, his invention was

exhausted, and that he had taken up Scottish melodies like Haydn in

his old age, he seemed amused and said: “Wait a while, you’ll soon

learn differently.” Schindler then adds: “Late in the Fall (1820),

returned from his summer sojourn in Mödling, where like a bee he had

been engaged busily in gathering ideas, he sat himself down to his

table and wrote out the three sonatas Op. 109, 110, 111 ‘in a single

breath,’ as he expressed it in a letter to Count Brunswick in order to

quiet the apprehension of his friends touching his mental condition.”

Schindler was dubious about the “single breath” and, indeed, there was

a considerable lapse of time between the writing of the first of the

three sonatas and the last two. The Sonata in E belongs unquestionably

to the year 1820. The first theme is found in the Conversation Book of

April, and the work was sketched before he began the _Benedictus_ of

the mass and while he was at work on this movement, the _Credo_, the

_Agnus Dei_ and the Bagatelles for Starcke. Before the end of the year

Archduke Rudolph received the manuscript for his collection. It was

dedicated to Maximiliane Brentano,[37] and published in November, 1821,

by Schlesinger in Berlin.

Beethoven has himself left data concerning the other two sonatas. On

the autograph of that in A-flat major, Op. 110, he wrote the date

“December 25, 1821.” Sketches for it follow sketches for the _Agnus

Dei_ of the mass, which were begun in 1820.[38] It was published

by Schlesinger in Berlin and Paris in 1822. There is evidence in a

memorandum to Schindler found among the latter’s papers, and also in a

letter to Schlesinger of 1823, that Beethoven intended to dedicate both

of the last two sonatas to Madame Brentano. “Ries-nichts” (“nothing

to Ries”), says the memorandum, significantly. Ideas utilized in the

C minor Sonata, Op. 111, are found amongst those for Op. 110 and

particularly among some for the _Agnus Dei_. The autograph bears the

date January 13, 1822,[39] and it is plain that most of the work was

done in 1821. It was published by Schlesinger in April, 1823, after

Beethoven had offered it to Peters of Leipsic. Corrections for these

three sonatas occupied a great deal of time; the engraving of the

French edition of the C minor was so faulty that Beethoven demanded

proof copies three times; twice his call was granted, the third time

it was refused.[40] This Sonata, Op. 111, was dedicated to Archduke

Rudolph. Beethoven had left the matter to Schlesinger, but he afterward

made a suggestion as to his wishes, for in a letter to the Archduke

on June 1, 1823, he writes: “Y. I. H. seemed to find pleasure in

the Sonata in C minor, and therefore I feel that it would not be

presumptuous if I were to surprise you with its dedication.”

There are few other compositions of these two years to ask attention,

the Canons and five Bagatelles having been mentioned. There is a song,

“Abendlied unter dem gestirnten Himmel,” words by Heinrich Göbel, the

original manuscript of which bears date March 4, 1820, and which was

published as a supplement to the “Modenzeitung” on March 28, 1820,

with a dedication to Dr. Braunhofer.[41] The twenty-five Scotch Songs,

Op. 108, were published in 1821 by Schlesinger. The performances of

Beethoven’s works in Vienna in 1820 and 1821 are quickly summed up. The

Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde performed the “Eroica” on February 20,

the C minor on April 9 and the F major on November 19. The Overture

in C, Op. 115, was played at a concert for the benefit of Widows and

Orphans on April 16, 1820. In the _Concerts spirituels_, conducted

by F. X. Gebauer in the season 1820-21, the Symphonies in C minor,

A major, and F major, and the Oratorio “Christus am Ölberg,” were

performed. Leopoldine Blahetka, a young woman of 18 who was creating

something of a furore by her pianoforte playing at the time, played the

Concerto in B-flat on April 3, having studied it with J. Czerny.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] “Two things fill the soul with ever new and increasing wonder

and reverence the oftener the mind dwells upon them--the starry sky

above me and the moral law within me.”--Kant’s “Criticism of Practical

Reason.”

[25] The greeting was in the form of a four-part canon beginning with

a short homophonic chorus, the words: “Seiner Kaiserlichen Hoheit! Dem

Erzherzog Rudolph! Dem geistlichen Fürsten! Alles Gute, alles Schöne!”

The autograph is preserved by the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in

Vienna. B. and H. Ges. Aus. Series XXIII, page 187.

[26] The reader who desires to read the documents in full is referred

to the German edition of this biography for the decrees and minutes

of the courts and to the Kalischer-Shedlock collection of letters for

Beethoven’s pleadings.

[27] 11 Dr. Deiters remarks on this point: “No doubt Beethoven had

hoped to attain his ends by general statements and thus spare himself

the shame and humiliation which would have followed had he presented

the truth, even in disguise, touching the lewdness and shameless life

of his own sister-in-law; and her legal advisers and the members of the

Magisterial Court knew how to turn this fact to their own advantage.”

[28] Made to Thayer.

[29] Here, as in several other cases, in which opinions only and

not definitely ascertained facts are concerned, the present Editor

is inclined to attach as much importance to Thayer’s judgment as

to that of his critics and revisers. Thayer’s working copy of his

“Chronologisches Verzeichniss,” which contains annotations of a

much later date than Nottebohm’s publication in the “Thematisches

Verzeichniss” which he edited for Breitkopf and Härtel, pays no

attention to Nottebohm’s conclusion.

[30] See the letter in the Kalischer-Shedlock Coll. II, 178.

[31] Thayer.

[32] This anecdote is recorded in Thayer’s note-book as a memorandum of

a conversation had with Höfel on June 23, 1860.

[33] For the music the reader is referred to Series XXIII of the

Complete Edition of Beethoven’s works published by Breitkopf and Härtel.

[34] The dramatic poet Zacharias Werner, who had become a convert

to Roman Catholicism and, now an ordained priest, was preaching to

great crowds of Viennese. The puns on the German word _Verleger_ and

_verlegen_ are untranslatable.

[35] The letter is preserved in the Beethoven House at Bonn. It was

first published in the “Vossische Zeitung” by Dr. Kalischer on July 26,

1903. See Kalischer-Shedlock, II, 177.

[36] Dr. Kalischer refers the remark about the “Jewish publisher”

to Schlesinger in Berlin; but this may be a mistake. In a later

correspondence with Peters, who suggests the term, Schlesinger is thus

referred to; but there is nothing to indicate that when correspondence

between Schlesinger and Beethoven had scarcely begun, Brentano was

called on to come to the rescue. Beethoven may mean a fling at Simrock

for his action in the matter of the Louis d’ors.

[37] See the letter to Franz Brentano of December 20, 1821, and the

note to his daughter dated December 6, 1821. (Kalischer-Shedlock, II,

189.)

[38] See Nottebohm, “Zweit. Beeth.,” pp. 465 and 471.

[39] Beethoven wrote, as if absentmindedly, “Ludwig Ludwig am 13ten

Jenner 1822.”

[40] It is noteworthy, as shown by Nottebohm (“Zweit. Beeth.,” pp.

467, 468) that the first theme of the first movement of the C minor

Sonata was originally intended for a third movement in a “second

sonata” which (Op. 109 being finished) can only have been the one in C

minor. It would seem as if the use of the theme in the first movement

did not occur to the composer until after he had conceived the theme

of the variations. But the theme had figured twenty years before in a

sketchbook used when the Sonata in A major, Op. 30, was in hand. Its

key then was F-sharp minor, and it may have been intended for Op. 30.

[41] Published also, together with three other songs--“Geheimniss,”

“Resignation” and “So oder so”--by Sauer and Leidesdorf as Op. 113 in

1821 or 1822. Beethoven presented a copy of it to Fanny Giannatasio on

April 19, 1820.

The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume III · 第 2 / 13 章