VICTORY AND SHADOW.
Period of Greatest Intellectual Activity--Hummel--The Battle of
Vittoria--Congress of Vienna--Maelzel--Pecuniary
Difficulties--Adoption of Nephew--The Philharmonic Society--The
Classical and Romantic Schools--The Ninth Symphony--His Nephew's
Conduct--Last Illness.
The period between the years 1805 and 1814 may be considered that of
Beethoven's greatest creative energy. It is almost impossible to keep
pace with the stream of colossal works which flowed without intermission
from his pen. To this period belong the G major and E flat pianoforte
concertos, without exception the most poetical and the noblest
compositions of the kind which we possess; the fantasia for pianoforte,
orchestra, and chorus; the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth
symphonies; the "Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage" on Goethe's short but
suggestive poem, "_Tiefe Stille herrscht im Wasser_; _ohne Regung ruht
das Meer_;" the First Mass; the music to "Egmont;" the overtures to
Collin's tragedy of "Coriolanus," and to "King Stephen," and the "Ruins
of Athens,"--each of which, from its intellectual grasp of subject,
wonderful ideality, and highly finished detail, would merit a volume to
itself. Nor do these Titanic orchestral productions occupy the whole of
his attention. They are accompanied by a mass of works for the
pianoforte, which, if in one sense slighter than those we have named,
yet, in another, stand equally high; the soliloquies and dialogues (if
we may be allowed the expression) contained in the pianoforte sonatas
breathe thoughts as noble and as deep as those expressed by the more
varied _dramatis personae_ of the orchestra or the quartets. Truly, a
perfect acquaintance with Beethoven would claim the devotion of the
highest powers, and the study of a lifetime. Any attempt, however, to
depict these great works briefly in words would be futile, and we
therefore pass on to the consideration of the poet's outer life. This
was almost monotonous--certainly not varied. Beethoven, as we have seen,
lived wholly in his art, and the changes which occurred, most momentous
to him, were not those of outward circumstance, but of inner,
intellectual development.
In the year 1809 he was offered the post of Kapellmeister to the King of
Westphalia, with a salary of six hundred ducats; and this, his great
desire of possessing a fixed income made him ready to accept; although
he would certainly have been miserable in such a position, as Jerome was
not the man to understand either him or his works. Happily, this ordeal
was spared him. It was thought derogatory to the dignity of Austria that
her greatest composer, the one of whom she had most reason to be proud,
should be allowed through pecuniary considerations to quit her bounds;
and as the Emperor would do nothing for Beethoven (his abhorrence of
etiquette and well-known republican sentiments having prevented his ever
getting into favour at Court), an agreement was ultimately entered into
by the Archduke Rudolph (Beethoven's pupil, afterwards Archbishop of
Olmuetz) and the Princes Lobkowitz and Kinsky, to pay the composer
annually the sum of four thousand guldens, on condition of his
continuing to reside in Vienna. In two years' time this was reduced
one-fifth, owing to changes in the Austrian Finance, and subsequently it
dwindled down to a mere nothing, from the death and bankruptcy of two of
the contracting parties--but Beethoven could get no redress, although he
religiously fulfilled his part of the compact.
In drawing the money from the executors of Prince Kinsky he was obliged
always to send in a proof that he was still in existence. This annoyed
him excessively, and he generally had the affair transacted for him by a
friend, which on one occasion produced the following laconic voucher to
Schindler:--
"CERTIFICATE OF LIFE.--The Fish lives! _vidi_ Pastor Romualdus,"--an
allusion to his eccentric use of water when composing.
In this year also occurred the bombardment of Vienna, out of which Ries
has contrived to bring forward an implied accusation of cowardice
against the composer, in his statement that Beethoven hid himself in a
cellar, burying his head among cushions that he might not hear the
firing.
The explanation of this lies on the surface; if he did take refuge
underground it was only what every other inhabitant of the city, whose
duty did not call him elsewhere, was doing; and as for the cushions--the
vibration of the cannonade heard in that vault must have been agony to
his diseased nerve. Had Beethoven really been alarmed he might easily
have quitted Vienna. Cowardice in any form is the last vice that could
be attributed to him; resolute and firm, he feared no danger.
In 1810 the Mass in C was performed for the first time at Eisenstadt,
the residence of Prince Esterhazy, the grandson of Haydn's patron, in
whose service Hummel was at the time as Kapellmeister. Esterhazy,
accustomed only to the simple services and masses of the Haydn-Mozart
school, did not know what to make of a production so totally different.
Accordingly, at the _dejeuner_ afterwards given in the palace to the
artists and dilettanti who had assembled for the occasion, he said, with
a smile, to our composer, "Now, dear Beethoven, what is this that you
have been about again?" The susceptible musician, not a little irritated
at hearing his work so lightly spoken of, glanced towards Hummel, who
happened to be standing by the Prince's side, wearing a peculiar smile,
which seemed to Beethoven full of malicious pleasure. This was too
much--the opinion of a fashionable worldling like Esterhazy was nothing
to Beethoven, but that a brother in art should so misunderstand
him--should rejoice at an apparent failure!--he rose abruptly, and
quitted the palace.
Such is the correct account of the rupture between Beethoven and Hummel,
which lasted until a few days before the death of the former, when
Hummel, hearing of his precarious state, hastened to Vienna to effect a
reconciliation before it was too late.[32] Another version of the story
is that the two composers were rivals for the hand of the same lady, and
that Hummel, owing to Beethoven's deafness and his own better position
as Kapellmeister, was the favoured suitor! The practice of tracing every
event in our composer's life to a love affair is just as ridiculous as
the opposite extreme of denying his capability for the tender passion.
A more interesting incident in connection with the First Mass is that
related by Schindler of the effect produced upon Beethoven by the
reading of the German text composed for it by some poet, who, though
unknown to fame, seems to have translated the master's thoughts from the
language of Tones into that of Words, with power and truth. When
Beethoven came to the "_Qui tollis_" his eyes overflowed with tears (the
first and last time that he was ever seen so affected) as he exclaimed,
"Thus I felt while composing this!"
The tide of Beethoven's earthly renown and glory, which had been slowly
rising for years, reached its height in 1813-14.
In the former year took place the two celebrated concerts on behalf of
the Austrian and Bavarian soldiers wounded in the battle of Hanau, when
the Seventh Symphony, and "Wellington's Victory, or the Battle of
Vittoria," were performed for the first time. We can easily imagine,
from the sensation excited even now by the latter work, how intense must
have been the enthusiasm which greeted its performance at a time when
popular feeling was strung up to the highest pitch. Beethoven himself
directed, regulating the movements of his baton by those of
Schuppanzigh's bow. In a notice of the concert written by himself he
says: "It was an unprecedented assembly of distinguished artists, every
one of whom was inspired by the desire of accomplishing something by his
art for the benefit of the Fatherland; and all worked together
unanimously, accepting of subordinate places without regard to
precedence, that a splendid _ensemble_ might be attained.... My part was
the direction of the whole, but only because the music happened to be of
my composition. Had it been otherwise, I would have stationed myself as
readily at the great drum, like Herr Hummel; for our only motives were
Love to the Fatherland, and the joyful devotion of our powers to serve
those who had sacrificed so much for us."
In 1814 occurred the great Congress, when Vienna was for a season the
abode of kings, princes, and delegates from every Court in Europe, and
the glittering capital was well-nigh intoxicated by its own
magnificence. The magistrates of the city invited Beethoven to compose a
Cantata for the occasion, which produced the "Glorreiche Augenblick,"
perhaps the composer's most neglected work, and deservedly so, as it is
not worthy of him. It won for him, however, the presentation of the
freedom of the city, the only distinction which Beethoven valued. Nor
was this his only triumph. His genius began to be universally
recognised; he was created an honorary member of Academies and Societies
in London, Paris, Stockholm, and Amsterdam; and the Philharmonic Society
in London presented him with a superb grand pianoforte of Broadwood's
manufacture. In short, from every nation in Europe, and even from
America, he received striking proofs of the love and admiration in which
he was held. Stimulated by these manifestations, excited by the
splendour around him, and the stirring, momentous events which were
taking place, Beethoven was induced to depart for the time from his
usual solitary habits, and to mingle for a few weeks in society. In the
apartments of Prince Rasoumowski, the well-known Russian dilettante, he
was introduced to many of the illustrious visitors, and long retained a
lively recollection, half comical, half gratified, of the manner in
which he had been idolized;--how the grand seigneurs had paid court to
him, and how admirably he had played his part in receiving their homage!
He was most deeply affected by his interview with the gentle Empress
Elizabeth of Russia, with whom he conversed in his customary frank, open
way, completely setting aside all etiquette; while she, on her part,
expressed the highest veneration for the composer, and at her departure
left him a gift of two hundred ducats, which he acknowledged after his
own fashion by dedicating to her his brilliant Polonaise, Op. 89. This
was the only substantial result to our poverty-stricken Beethoven of the
attachment professed by the whole of the gay throng!
The bright episode of the Congress, with its fetes and triumphs, soon
flitted past, bringing out in sterner and darker contrast the days which
followed.
Beethoven had dedicated his "Battle of Vittoria" to the Prince Regent of
England (George IV.), but to his great chagrin, no notice was taken of
it. He alludes to this in a letter to Ries, and referring to the
Prince's well-known character of _gourmand_, says, "He might at least
have sent me a butcher's knife or a turtle!"
Another vexation in connection with the symphony, causing him infinite
annoyance, arose out of the despicable conduct of Maelzel, afterwards
the inventor of the metronome. In the year 1812 he had made the
acquaintance of the latter, who had promised to construct for him a
sound-conductor, in return for which Beethoven composed a kind of
warlike piece for the mechanician's new instrument, the panharmonica,
which he was on the point of taking to England for exhibition. The
effect of Beethoven's work was so marvellous, that Maelzel urged him to
arrange it for the orchestra, and the result was--the "Battle of
Vittoria." Maelzel meanwhile went on constructing four machines, only
one of which was found available, and Beethoven, without the slightest
suspicion of any underhand dealing, allowed him to take the entire
management of the concerts for the relief of the wounded. In his hermit
life he did not hear much of what was going on around him, and his
consternation may therefore be imagined when informed that his false
friend was announcing the symphony everywhere as his own property,
stating that it had been given to him by Beethoven in return for his
machine, and the sum of four hundred guldens which he professed to have
lent him! He had actually contrived to have many of the orchestral parts
copied out, and those that were wanting supplied by some low musician,
and with this mutilated work he was on his way to England. The matter
was at once placed in the hands of the law; but it was long before
Beethoven recovered from the effects of this fraud; it made him, in
fact, suspicious ever after towards copyists. The loan of four hundred
guldens proved to have been _fifty_, which Beethoven accepted from him
at a time when, as he states in his instructions to his lawyers, he was
"in dire necessity; _deserted by every one in Vienna_."
This Maelzel had the impudence subsequently to write to Beethoven,
requesting his patronage for the metronome, and pretending that he was
busily engaged in preparing a sound-conductor which would enable the
master to direct in the orchestra. The latter never made its appearance,
but Beethoven, who at first approved of the metronome, did all in his
power to have it introduced. Afterwards, when he saw the confusion of
_tempo_ which it had occasioned, he used to say, "Don't let us have any
metronome! He that has true feeling will not require it, and for him who
has none, it will not be of any use."
This affair with Maelzel gives us a glimpse into the pecuniary
difficulties which harassed Beethoven throughout his life, assuming
greater prominence towards the end. He was always in want of money, and
yet (according to the notions of the times) he was handsomely paid for
his compositions. What, then, was the cause of it? Were his means
swallowed up by his frequent removals? Did the perplexity arise simply
from his unbusiness-like habits? To these questions we must add a third,
which may, perhaps, afford a clue to the mystery,--What became of the
valuable presents, the watches, rings, breast-pins, snuff-boxes, &c.,
&c., of which Beethoven had received so many? When asked where such a
gift was, he would look bewildered, and say after a moment's reflection,
"I really don't know!" The matter would then pass entirely from his
thoughts; but there were those about him who were not equally
indifferent!
In 1815 the cloud which for two years had been threatening, burst upon
him in those troubles and sorrows which encompassed him until the end.
He lost his old friend and staunch supporter, Prince Lichnowski, and, a
few months after, his brother Carl, who in dying bequeathed to him as a
legacy the care of his only child. It seemed as if the annoyance which
this man had caused our Beethoven in his life were to be perpetuated and
continually renewed in the person of his son. Not so, however, did the
master regard the fresh call upon him. After having done all that
kindness could suggest, or money procure, to relieve his brother's
sufferings and cheer his last days, he took home the orphan child to his
heart with a love and tenderness that could not have been greater had
the boy been his own.
His first step was to remove him from the care of his mother, a woman of
lax morals and low habits. In this Beethoven was actuated by the purest
and best motives; but, unfortunately, his zeal went too far. He forgot
that the fact of his sister-in-law's having been a bad wife did not
necessarily imply that she had lost a mother's heart; and in insisting
upon the total separation between the two, he roused all the bitterest
feelings of a woman's nature, and prepared much sorrow for himself. The
"Queen of Night," as he nicknamed her, sought redress through the law,
and for four years a suit for the possession of the lad was pending. In
his appeal Beethoven thus nobly expresses the sentiments which dictated
his conduct:--"My wishes and efforts have no other aim than that of
giving the best possible education to the boy, his talents justifying
the greatest expectations; and of fulfilling the trust reposed in my
brotherly love by his father. The stem is now pliable; but if it be for
a time neglected, it will become crooked, and outgrow the gardener's
training hand; and upright bearing, knowledge, and character will be
irretrievably lost. I know of no duty more sacred than that of the
training and education of a child. The duty of a guardian can only
consist in the appreciation of what is good, and the adoption of a right
course; and only then does he consult the welfare of his ward; whereas
in obstructing the good he neglects his duty."
Misled by the prefix _van_, his advocate unfortunately carried the case
to the Aristocratic Court; and, as it went on, Beethoven was called upon
to show his right to this proceeding. Pointing with eloquent emphasis to
his head and heart, the composer declared that in these lay his
nobility; but, however true in the abstract, the law could not admit
this plea, and after a decision had been given in his favour, the case
had to be re-tried before the ordinary Civil Court. This occurrence
wounded Beethoven more than can be described; he felt his honour
tarnished as a man and as an artist, and for several months no
persuasion could induce him to show himself in public. In addition to
this, the evidence necessarily brought forward to strengthen his plea
revealed only too plainly the loose life of his sister-in-law, and such
an _expose_ of one so nearly related to himself was, for his pure and
reserved nature, the height of misery.
The Civil Court reversed the decision of the Aristocratic, and the boy
was given over to his mother; while Beethoven, determined to gain his
end, brought the case before the High Court of Appeal, where he was
finally successful. Let the reader imagine the effect of all this
painful publicity, following upon the annoyances with Maelzel, to a mind
constituted like Beethoven's. No Stylites on his pillar could have
suffered more than did our composer in his loneliness until the cause
was gained. And what return did he meet with from the object of his
solicitude?--The basest ingratitude.
About this time he began seriously to think of visiting London; the
Philharmonic Society made him the most handsome offers; and his own
inclinations prompted him to quit Vienna. He had at all times cherished
the greatest love and admiration for England and the English nation, our
free institutions harmonizing with his political views; and a commission
coming from this quarter was always welcome to him, not only on account
of the unwonted _honoraire_ which usually accompanied it, but also
because of the high esteem in which he held the English as artists and
appreciators of art. During the latter years of his life, therefore,
this visit to London was his favourite scheme, and he intended _en
route_ to pass through the Rhine provinces, that he might once more see
the home and the friends of his boyhood;--but it was destined never to
take place.
The four years of the lawsuit were almost barren of creative result, but
in the winter of 1819-20 he began his Mass in D. This colossal work,
written more for future generations than for us, was originally
intended for the installation of the Archduke Rudolph as Archbishop of
Olmuetz; but as the work went on, our composer grew more and more in love
with his task, which gradually assumed such proportions that it was not
completed till 1823--two years after the event it was meant to
celebrate! A copy of the Mass, which Beethoven regarded as his most
successful effort, was offered to every court in Europe for the sum of
fifty ducats. It was, however, accepted only by France, Prussia, Saxony,
Russia, and by Prince Radziwill, Governor of Posen, and a musical
society in Frankfort. The King of Prussia sent to inquire, through his
Ambassador, if the master would not prefer a decoration to the fifty
ducats. Beethoven's answer was prompt--"Fifty ducats!" If his work were
worthy of a decoration, why not have given it in addition to the paltry
sum asked for it? Louis XVIII. acted differently; he sent the composer a
valuable gold medal, on one side of which was his bust, and on the
reverse the inscription, "_Donne, par le roi, a M. Beethoven_." An
application of Beethoven's to Goethe requesting him to draw the
attention of Karl August to the Mass met with no answer, although Goethe
might have been able, at very trifling inconvenience to himself, to
render material assistance to the master. His self-love had probably not
recovered from the shock it had received during a walk with Beethoven on
the Bastei at Vienna, when, struck by the profound respect and deference
manifested by every one whom they encountered, Goethe exclaimed, "I
really had no idea that I was so well known here!" "Oh!" replies our
brusque composer, "the people are bowing to me, not to you!" This was in
reality the case, for the circumstance occurred in Beethoven's palmy
days, when he was, as Marx observes, a "universally beloved and popular
character, a part of Vienna itself."
The circumstance which more than any other casts a gloom over the
master's last days is, that he was doomed (apparently) to outlive his
fame, and to have the inexpressible mortification of witnessing that
rupture in the musical world which has lasted down to our days, and will
probably never be healed, viz., the separation of the classical from the
so-called romantic school. Hitherto, the followers of Art had been
united; naturally, individual tastes and predilections had occasionally
predominated--some admiring one master and some another,--but on the
whole, the lovers of music had been unanimous in their adherence to the
pure and good. With the appearance of Rossini (that clever
scene-painter, as Beethoven called him), this state of affairs underwent
a complete revolution. His gay, light-hearted melodies, extravagant
roulades, and inexhaustible vivacity took the public by storm--Beethoven
and his immortal masterpieces were forgotten. And yet, perhaps, this is
only what might have been expected,--the divine in Art is not for all,
nor are all for the divine. Beethoven might have known, like Goethe,
that he was too profound ever to be popular in a wide sense. The mass of
mankind look upon Art simply as a means of relaxation. So, indeed, it
ought to be to all; but never should it stop there. Art, in its highest
and best forms, has power not only to provide the weary and careworn
with temporary self-forgetfulness, and to dissipate grief, but--and
herein lies its true, its God-given strength--to renew the energies and
brace the mind for higher and nobler efforts in the future. Whenever it
stops short of this, satisfied with fulfilling its first and lower
function, there is developed a tendency to abdicate its real position,
and to degenerate into the mere panderer to man's follies, to his vices.
Who could have felt this more keenly than Beethoven? Not the mere loss
of his own popularity was it that made him turn away so deeply wounded
from grand displays in which snatches of his own works were performed,
along with meaningless arias, and shallow, noisy overtures of the new
Italian school. So deeply did he take the change to heart, that he
resolved to have his Mass in D and the Ninth Symphony performed for the
first time in Berlin. The announcement of this intention produced a warm
remonstrance (in the form of an Address) from his attached little circle
of friends; and the master, touched by the feeling which called out this
manifestation, was induced to forego his determination, and to consent
to the two works being brought out in Vienna, provided a hall suitable
for the purpose could be obtained.
This was no easy matter, and the difficulties in connection with it gave
rise to a half-comical little incident. His enemies were in power, and
demanded an absurd sum for the use of the building, to which Beethoven
could not be induced to agree. As neither party would yield, the project
seemed on the point of shipwreck, when the faithful Schindler, alarmed
for the success of the enterprise on which he had set his heart,
persuaded Count Moritz Lichnowski and the violinist Schuppanzigh to meet
him as if by accident at Beethoven's house, and press the latter to
yield to what was inevitable. The plan succeeded, and the necessary
papers were signed; but the composer's suspicions were roused, and the
three devoted friends received for their pains the following autocratic
mandates:--
"TO COUNT MORITZ LICHNOWSKI,--
"Duplicity I despise. Visit me no more. There will be no concert.
"BEETHOVEN."
"TO HERR SCHUPPANZIGH,--
"Come no more to see me. I shall give no concert.
"BEETHOVEN."
"TO HERR SCHINDLER,--
"Do not come to me until I send for you. No concert.
"BEETHOVEN."
This did not in the least deter them, however, from doing what they
believed necessary for his benefit: the concert took place, and was the
scene of a triumph such as few have experienced. The glorious Jupiter
Symphony seemed to act upon the immense mass of human beings that
thronged the building in every part, like ambrosial nectar; they became
intoxicated with delight, and when the refrain was caught up by the
choir, "_Seid umschlungen Millionen!_" a shout of exuberant joy rent the
air, completely drowning the singers and instruments. But there stood
the master in the midst, his face turned towards the orchestra, absorbed
and sunk within himself as usual,--he heard nothing, saw nothing.
Fraeulein Unger, the soprano, turned him gently round, and then what a
sight met his astonished gaze,--a multitude transported with joy! Almost
all were standing, and the greater number melted to tears, now for the
first time realizing fully the extent of Beethoven's calamity.--Probably
in all that great assembly the master himself was the most unmoved.
Simply bowing in response to the ovation, he left the theatre gloomy and
despondent, and took his homeward way in silence.
Verily, he, like a Greater, knew what was in man. In eight days from
this eventful epoch he was completely forgotten; a second concert proved
an utter failure, and Rossini's star was again in the ascendant. Nor did
the flighty Viennese public cast another thought upon our Beethoven
until the news of his death came upon them like the shock of an
earthquake, and they hastened, when it was too late, to repair the past.
But if it was painful to meet with ingratitude from the public, how much
harder must it have been for the master to endure the same from one
nearly related to him! We have said that he adopted his brother's
orphan child. This nephew, also a Carl Beethoven, was at his father's
death about eight years of age, and a boy of great talent and promise.
The four succeeding years, during which the lawsuit dragged its weary
length, were extremely detrimental to him, as he seems to have been
tossed about from one person to another--now with his mother, and again
with his uncle--in a manner very prejudicial to any good moral
development. Events showed him only too plainly the character of his
mother, but nature--stronger still--urged him to take her part in the
contest so far as he dared; and, incited by her evil counsels, he soon
began secretly to despise his uncle's authority, and openly to follow a
path he had laid down for himself,--the path of self-will and sensual
indulgence. Expelled from the University where he was attending the
Philosophical Course, his more than father received the repentant
prodigal with open arms, and placed him in the Polytechnic School to
study for a mercantile career, that he might be under the supervision of
Herr Reisser, Vice-President of the Institute, and co-guardian with
himself over Carl. In the summer of 1825 the composer wrote no fewer
than twenty-nine letters to his erring nephew, every one of which
exhibits his character in the most beautiful light. They breathe the cry
of a David, "Oh! Absalom! my son! my son!"--but it is a living Absalom
who has to be lamented, and the most energetic appeals, the most loving
remonstrances are invoked to move that stony heart. In vain,--Carl went
from bad to worse, and in 1826 the master was compelled to give up the
habit which had been his only solace for years--that of spending the
summer in the country--and to remain in Vienna to watch over the young
man. Matters soon came to a crisis,--Carl, urged to pass an examination
which he had long neglected, attempted, in a fit of despair, to put an
end to his own life. Here the law stepped in, and after he had been
treated in an asylum where his spiritual as well as his bodily condition
was cared for, the miserable youth was restored to his no less wretched
uncle, with orders to quit Vienna within four-and-twenty hours.
Beethoven's old friend, Stephan Breuning, exerted himself to procure a
cadetship for the lad, and he was at length permitted to join the
regiment of the Baron von Stutterheim, to whom the composer gratefully
dedicated one of his last quartets. Pending this arrangement the unhappy
uncle and nephew took refuge at Gneixendorf, the estate of Johann v.
Beethoven, who had offered them a temporary asylum. A few days here,
however, were enough for the composer; irritated by the unjust
reproaches and low taunts of his brother, he determined at once to
return to Vienna, taking his nephew with him. It was a raw, cold,
miserable day in December; Johann refused to lend his close carriage to
him to whom he owed all his prosperity, and Beethoven was obliged to
perform a long journey in an open conveyance, with no shelter from the
keen wind and pitiless rain. His health, which had long been failing,
sank under this exposure, and he arrived in Vienna with a severe attack
of inflammation of the lungs, which ultimately caused his death.
As soon as they arrived at home, Carl was charged instantly to procure a
physician for his uncle, one Dr. Wawruch; but this loving nephew's whole
thoughts were for his old companions and his old haunts. He went to play
billiards, entrusting his commission to the tender mercies of a servant
of the establishment, who, in his turn, let the affair pass entirely
from his memory until two days after, when he happened to be taken ill
himself, and to be carried _by chance_ to the same hospital in which the
doctor practised. At the sight of the physician his instructions flashed
upon his memory, and he besought him to go at once to the great
Beethoven. Horror-struck, Dr. Wawruch, who was an enthusiastic admirer
of the composer, hastened to his house and found him lying in the most
precarious state, completely alone and neglected. His unwearied efforts
so far succeeded that Beethoven rallied for a time, when his first care
was--to appoint his worthless nephew sole heir to all his effects! Soon
symptoms of dropsy showed themselves, he had to be tapped four times,
and it became evident that the master spirit would soon leave its
earthly tabernacle for a better and more enduring habitation. He was
always resigned and patient, remarking, with a smile, when a painful
operation was being performed, "Better water from my body than from my
pen!"
The Philharmonic Society sent him a magnificent edition of Handel, and
the greatest pleasure of his last days consisted in going through the
works of his favourite composer.
His illness, however, lasted some time; in the meanwhile he was making
nothing, and his small resources began to fail him. The money he had
recently made by his works he had added to the fund which he sacredly
kept for his nephew, and which no persuasion could induce him to touch;
he had been disappointed in a sum owing to him by the Russian
dilettante, Prince Galitzin; and in great distress the question arose,
what was he to do? to whom could he turn? He bethought him of the offer
made by the Philharmonic Society in London to give a concert for his
benefit, and after much hesitation, finally applied to them, through
Moscheles and Sir George Smart, for the fulfilment of the promise. His
countrymen have never been able to forgive Beethoven for this step,
especially as it was found after his death that he had left about
L1,200; but this, as we said before, he looked upon as his nephew's
property, and would not appropriate any of it to his own use--therefore,
what was he to do? _Forsaken by the whole world in Vienna_, was he to
starve? The society rejoiced in the opportunity of showing the gratitude
of England to him who has placed the whole human race under an eternal
obligation, and immediately despatched L100 to Vienna, with the
intimation that if this were not sufficient more would be forthcoming.
Alas! more was not required; a few days after the gift arrived the great
musician breathed his last. We leave the description of the closing
scene to Schindler:--
"When I went to him on the morning of the 24th of March, 1827, I found
him with distorted face, and so weak that only by the greatest effort
could he utter a few words. In a short time the physician entered, and,
after looking at him in silence, whispered to me that Beethoven was
advancing with rapid steps towards dissolution. As we had fortunately
provided for the signing of the will some days previously, there
remained to us but _one_ ardent wish--that of proving to the world that
he died as a true Christian. The physician, therefore, wrote a few
lines, begging him in the name of all his friends to allow the holy
sacrament to be administered to him, upon which he answered calmly and
collectedly, 'I will.' The physician then left, that I might arrange for
this; and Beethoven said to me, 'I beg you to write to Schott, and send
him the document, he will require it; write to him in my name, I am too
weak; and tell him that I beg him earnestly to send the wine he
promised. If you have time to-day, write also to England.' The pastor
came about twelve o'clock, and the holy office was performed with the
greatest solemnity.
"Beethoven himself now began to believe in his approaching end; for
hardly had the clergyman gone than he exclaimed, '_Plaudite amici,
comedia finita est_; have I not always said that it would come thus?' He
then begged me again not to forget Schott, and to thank the Philharmonic
Society once more for their gift, adding that the society had cheered
his last days, and that even on the verge of the grave he thanked them
and the whole English nation. At this moment the servant of Herr von
Breuning entered with the little case of wine sent by Schott. I placed
two bottles of Rudesheimer on the table by his side; he looked at them
and said, 'What a pity!--too late!' These were his last words. In a few
moments he fell into an agony so intense that he could no longer
articulate. Towards evening he lost consciousness, and became delirious.
This lasted till the evening of the 25th, when visible signs of death
already showed themselves. Notwithstanding, he lingered till the evening
of the 26th, when his spirit took flight, while without a violent storm
of thunder and lightning seemed to reflect his death struggle in Nature
herself--his best friend."
The last agonies of the master were soothed by but _one_ friendly touch,
that of Anselm Huettenbrenner from Gratz, who had hurried into Vienna to
press the loved hand once more. He was borne to his last resting-place
by an immense concourse, exceeding twenty thousand; composers, poets,
authors, artists, surrounded his coffin with lighted torches, while the
choristers sang to one of his own melodies the words of Grillparzer:--
"Du, dem nie im Leben,
Ruhestaett ward, und Heerd und Haus,
Ruhe nun im stillen
Grabe, nun im Tode aus,"--
Thou, who ne'er in life hadst resting-place, nor hearth, nor home--rest
thee now in the quiet grave--in death. Amen.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 32: Of those last interviews between the two great composers,
Dr. Ferdinand Hiller, the veteran composer and probably the last link
between the "classical" period and our own, has published an interesting
account. He was at the time a pupil of Hummel, whom he accompanied to
Beethoven's residence. His description of the Master in his helplessness
is most touching.]
[Illustration]
THE PIANOFORTE SONATAS.[33]
From Domenico Scarlatti down to Frederic Chopin a succession of
cembalists, clavecinists, and pianists rich in talent, art, and genius,
have created a series of select works, the counterpart of which, in
number, variety, and lasting fame, can probably be displayed by no other
branch of musical literature. Two collections, however, take precedence
of all this wealth of tone-poetry; these are the Fugues and Preludes
(the "Wohl-temperirte Clavier") of Johann Sebastian Bach, and the
Sonatas of Ludwig van Beethoven. Both works have been so much discussed,
have been analyzed in so many different ways, have had such multifarious
constructions put upon them, have been praised and extolled from so many
different standpoints, that the conviction must be impressed upon every
observer--_they are inexhaustible_. This is really the case--they are an
ever-flowing spring of study for the composer and the pianist, and of
enjoyment for the educated hearer. At present, however, we have only to
do with the Sonatas of Beethoven, and must therefore direct our
attention to them.
Most of the German composers have become great at the pianoforte. They
learned to command the technicalities of this compendium of sound,
song, harmony, and polyphony, and it became to them a voice, a second
tongue, a part of themselves. Upon it they could express every
whispering musical emotion, and lend words, we may even say, to every
passing mood which stirred their sensitive souls; the utterances which
Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven confided to their pianoforte in lonely hours
may have surpassed in beauty (if not in perfection of form) what they
committed to writing. In no other master, however, does this familiar
intercourse between the tone-poet and his instrument present itself to
our minds with such wondrous clearness as in Beethoven. In his mighty
symphonies he speaks to the crowd like an ideal world's orator, raising
them to the highest emotions of purified humanity; in his quartets he
strives to impart to each instrument an almost dramatic individuality;
but in his Pianoforte Sonatas he speaks to himself; or, if you will, to
the instrument, as to his dearest friend. He relates his most secret
joys and sorrows, his longing and his love, his hope and his despair. An
entire, full, real, inner human life is revealed to us--sound, energetic
(_kernig_), manly. Whether he gives himself up to passionate outpourings
or to melancholy laments, whether he jests, plays, dreams, laughs, or
weeps; he continues always simple and true. We find no straining after
effect, no oddity, no coquettishness, no sentimentality; the greatest
depth of thought appears unadorned and unpretentious. There are a few
great men who can express the noblest sentiments without a wish that
they should be heard, and who yet have no cause to dread listeners for
the most trifling thing that they have uttered; and such is Beethoven in
his Pianoforte Sonatas.
We frequently encounter the impression that Beethoven, in
contradistinction to the other loftiest tone-poets, is specially the
singer of melancholy and sorrow--of the most intense, passionate
soul-suffering. Nothing can be less true. Certainly he depicted the
night side of the human mind as no one had done before him. But when we
view his compositions as a whole, there speaks to us out of them
all--even the last, so deeply furrowed--a predominating vigorous
cheerfulness, a sympathetic joy, a loving meditativeness, an earnest,
resolute, fresh life. How often he sinks into blissful dreams, or gives
himself up to childlike merriment! A mature man, yet seized at times by
the extravagance of youth, while the battle of life makes him earnest,
sometimes gloomy, but never faint-hearted or misanthropic
(_weltschmerzlich_). "He was a _man_, take him for all in all;" we have
not looked upon his like.
The special application of what has been said to the separate Sonatas
would lead to nothing. Although it is indisputable that the emotions and
frames of mind portrayed in them are almost infinite in compass, yet it
would be proportionally difficult to express the same with regard to
each single piece in words, the very definiteness of which would
conclusively prove their inadequacy to the task. It is no empty phrase,
however often it may have been repeated, that Music begins where
Language ends,--of course with the proviso that the former content
herself with the sovereignty in the domain assigned to her. How many
tone-poems should we be compelled to characterize by words not only
analogous to each other, but having the very same purport, even though a
Goethe's wealth of language were at our command! and what a
dissimilarity in the tone-forms would notwithstanding be apparent even
to the most uninitiated listener!
Far more important than the invention of characteristic expressions is
it, for those who would devote themselves to the study of Beethoven's
pianoforte sonatas, to get a clear idea of them in _outline_ as well as
in _detail_. The comprehension of them is facilitated by this, with the
natural result of a higher intellectual enjoyment. Is it not elevating
to see how the most daring fancy, after having been nourished by deep
thought, becomes the willing, submissive subject of the all-regulating
mind? Beethoven never lost the reins, even in what seem the wildest
flights of his genius: his Pegasus may spring up into highest space--he
is able to direct and guide it.
No earnest, conscientious teacher should neglect to explain to those
entrusted to him the essential nature of the laws which for centuries,
by a kind of natural necessity, have developed themselves in the forms
of instrumental music. They are so simple that their principal features
may be made clear to the most childish comprehension, and every step in
advance will bring with it a deeper insight. That Beethoven, in the
closest relation to his great predecessors, submitted to these laws,
makes his appearance doubly great: he did not come to destroy, but to
fulfil the law.
O that our art, the most spiritual of all, were not bound by so many and
such rigorous ties to matter! O that Beethoven's sonatas were within the
reach of all educated minds, like the lyrics of our great poets! But not
this alone does Nature deny to our art; she withholds from the greater
number of those even who are striving as musicians and as pianists the
full enjoyment of these lofty works, at least in their totality. They
make demands upon the executants which are not easily met. Here and
there we find the necessary talent. Were it but accompanied by the
indispensable earnestness and diligence!
Beethoven's pianoforte music demands (apart from the consideration of
the extraordinarily difficult works) sound and solid execution. The
first conditions of this are also the rarest, viz., a powerful and yet
gentle touch, with the greatest possible independence of finger.
Beethoven never writes difficulties merely to win laurels for those
executants who shall overcome them, but neither is he deterred by any
technical inconvenience, if it be necessary to give firm and clear
expression to an idea. Thus we meet, in works reckoned amongst the
easiest, with passages which presuppose a pretty high degree of
technical skill; and since a pure style properly demands that there
shall be at least the _appearance_ of ease on the part of the
performer,--with compositions of the intellectual depth of Beethoven's
this is an indispensable qualification. Therefore it is not advisable to
take or place the sonatas of our master in hands which are not educated
for their reception. When that degree of progress has been attained
which will insure the mastery of the technical difficulties, the
enjoyment and advantage to be derived from their thorough study will be
doubled, and the effort to grasp them intellectually unhindered.
The most essential figures which Beethoven employs are built upon the
scale and the arpeggio. They belong, therefore, to that style which is
specially designated the Clementi-Cramer school. The studies of these
noble representatives of pure pianoforte playing will always be the best
foundation for the performance of Beethoven's works, and the practice of
them ought to accompany without intermission the study of the master.
Happily, the rich productions of Beethoven's imagination offer fruits
for every epoch of life and of--pianoforte-playing. We can reward the
diligence of the studious child by allowing him to play the two
sonatinas published after the master's death, which sound to us rather
as if they had been written _for_ than _by_ a beginner. But we should
carefully guard against giving to immature young minds pieces which,
though easy in a technical point of view (and this, after all, is
sometimes only _apparent_), require a power of conception and of
performance far beyond the demands made upon the fingers. Who, for
example, with any experience in musical life, does not remember having
heard the Sonata Pathetique played with a _naivete_ of style which might
prove the narrowness of the boundary line between the sublime and the
ridiculous? And similar misconceptions are met with every day.
We give below a list of the sonatas in the order in which they ought to
be studied, arranged with a view to the demands made upon the heart and
mind, as well as upon the hand and finger of the performer. It is
evident, however, that this cannot be done with mathematical precision,
and that individual views and capability must, after all, decide; since
_difficulty_ and _ease_ are but relative terms, and depend in each case
upon other and pre-existing conditions. If, however, our attempt succeed
so far as to render the selection easier to the student, and prevent his
making any great mistakes, we shall not consider our trouble thrown
away.
_May Beethoven speedily find a home in every house--in every heart!_
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 33: From an edition of the Sonatas published in Breslau.]
[Illustration]
CLASSIFICATION OF BEETHOVEN'S PIANOFORTE SONATAS.
1. Op. 49, No. 2, in G major.
2. Op. 49, No. 1, in G minor.
3. Op. 14, No. 2, in G major.
4. Op. 14, No. 1, in E major.
5. Op. 79, in G major.
6. Op. 2, No. 1, in F minor.
7. Op. 10, No. 1, in C minor.
8. Op. 10, No. 2, in F major.
9. Op. 10, No. 3, in D major.
10. Op. 13, in C minor (_Pathetique_).
11. Op. 22, in B flat major.
12. Op. 28, in D major (_Pastorale_).
13. Op. 2, No. 2, in A major.
14. Op. 2, No. 3, in C major.
15. Op. 78, in F sharp major.
16. Op. 7, in E flat major.
17. Op. 26, in A flat major.
18. Op. 31, No. 3, in E flat major.
19. Op. 31, No. 1, in G major.
20. Op. 90, in E minor.
21. Op. 54, in F major.
22. Op. 27, No. 2, in C sharp minor (_Moonlight_).
23. Op. 31, No. 2, in D minor.
24. Op. 53, in C major.
25. Op. 27, No. 1, in E flat major.
26. Op. 81, in E flat major (_Les Adieux_).
27. Op. 57, in F minor (_Appassionata_).
28. Op. 110, in A flat major.
29, Op. 109, in E major.
30. Op. 101, in A major.
31. Op. 111, in C minor.
32. Op. 106, in B flat major (_The Giant_).
LIST OF BEETHOVEN'S WORKS.
_Compiled from_ MARX _and_ THAYER.
I.--COMPOSITIONS DESIGNATED AS _Opus_.
1. _Three Trios_ for pianoforte, violin, and violoncello, in E flat, G
major, and C minor; ded. to Prince Lichnowski; composed 1791-92.
2. _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in F minor, A major, and C major; ded.
to Joseph Haydn; pub. 1796.
3. _Trio_ for violin, viola, and violoncello, in E flat; composed in
Bonn in 1792.
4. _Quintet_ for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in E flat
(from the octet for wind instruments, Op. 103); pub. 1797.
5. _Two Sonatas_ for piano and violoncello, in F major and G minor;
ded. to Frederic William II. of Prussia; composed in Berlin in 1796.
6. _Sonata_ for piano, for four hands, in D major; pub. 1796-97.
7. _Sonata_ for piano, in E flat; ded. to the Countess Babette von
Keglevics; pub. 1797.
8. _Serenade_ for violin, viola, and violoncello, in D major; pub.
1797.
9. _Three Trios_ for violin, viola, and violoncello, in G Major, D
major, and C minor; ded. to the Count von Browne; pub. 1798.
10. _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in C minor, F major, and D major; ded.
to the Countess von Browne; pub. 1798.
11. _Trio_ for piano, clarionet (or V.), and violoncello, in B flat;
ded. to the Countess von Thun; pub. 1798.
12. _Three Sonatas_ for piano and violin, in D major, A major, and E
flat major; ded. to F.A. Salieri; pub. 1798-99.
13. _Sonata Pathetique_ for piano, in C minor; ded. to Prince
Lichnowski; pub. 1799.
14. _Two Sonatas_ for piano, in E major and G major; ded. to the
Baroness Braun; pub. 1799.
15. _First Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in C major; ded. to the
Princess Odescalchi, _nee_ Countess von Keglevics; composed 1795.
16. _Quintet_ for piano, clarionet, oboe, bassoon, and horn, in E flat
major; ded. to the Prince von Schwarzenberg; performed 1798.
17. _Sonata_ for piano and horn in F major; ded. to the Baroness
Braun; composed 1800.
18. _Six Quartets_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in F
major, G major, D major, C minor, A major, and B flat major; ded. to
Prince Lobkowitz; pub. 1800-1801.
19. _Second Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in B flat major; ded.
to M. von Nickelsberg; composed 1798.
20. _Grand Septet_ for violin, viola, violoncello, horn, clarionet,
bassoon, and double-bass, in E flat; performed 1800.
21. _First Symphony_ for orchestra, in C major; ded. to the Baron van
Swieten; performed 1800.
22. _Grand Sonata_ for piano, in B flat; ded. to the Count von Browne;
composed 1800.
23. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in A minor; ded. to Count Moritz
von Fries; pub. 1801.
24. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in F major; ded. to Count Moritz
von Fries; pub. 1801 (originally together with Op. 23).
25. _Serenade_ for flute, violin, and viola, in D major; pub. 1802.
26. _Sonata_ for piano, in A flat; ded. to Prince Lichnowski; composed
1801.
27. _Two Sonatas_, quasi Fantasia, for piano, No. 1 in E flat major;
ded. to the Princess Liechtenstein; No. 2 in C sharp minor; ded. to
the Countess Julia Guicciardi; composed 1801 (?).
28. _Sonata_ for piano, in D major; ded. to M. von Sonnenfels;
composed 1801.
29. _Quintet_ for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in C
major; ded. to Count von Fries; composed 1801.
30. _Three Sonatas_ for piano and violin, in A major, C minor, and G
major; ded. to the Emperor Alexander I. of Russia; composed 1802.
31. _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in G major, D minor, and E flat major;
composed 1802 (?).
32. "_To Hope_," words from the "_Urania_" of Tiedge; pub. 1805 (first
setting, _see_ Op. 94).
33. _Bagatelles_ for piano; composed 1782.
34. _Six Variations_ for piano, in F major, on an original theme; ded.
to the Princess Odescalchi; composed in 1802 (?).
35. _Fifteen Variations_, with a _Fugue_; for piano, on a theme from
"_Prometheus_," ded. to Count Moritz Lichnowski; composed 1802.
36. _Second Symphony_ for orchestra, in D major; ded. to Prince
Lichnowski; composed 1802.
37. _Third Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in C minor; ded. to
Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia; composed 1800.
38. _Trio_ for piano, clarionet (or V.), and violoncello (from the
Septet, Op. 20); published 1805.
39. _Two Preludes_ through all the major and minor keys, for piano or
organ; composed 1789.
40. _Romance_ for violin and orchestra, in G major; composed 1802 (?).
41. _Serenade_ for piano and flute (or V.), in D major (from Op. 25);
pub. 1803.
42. _Notturno_ for piano and violoncello, in D major (from Op. 8);
pub. 1804.
43. _Ballet_: "_The Men of Prometheus_;" composed 1800.
44. _Fourteen Variations_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, on an
original theme; composed 1802 (?).
45. _Three Marches_ for piano, for four hands, in C major, E flat
major, and D major; ded. to the Princess Esterhazy; composed 1802 (?
1801).
46. _Adelaide_: words by Matthison; composed 1796.
47. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in A major; ded. to the violinist
Rudolph Kreutzer; composed 1803.
48. _Six Spiritual Songs_, by Gellert; pub. 1803.
49. _Two Easy Sonatas_ for piano, in G minor and G major; composed
1802 (?).
50. _Romance_ for violin and orchestra, in F major; composed in 1802
(?).
51. _Two Rondos_ for piano: No. 1 in C major; pub. 1798 (?); No. 2 in
G major: ded. to the Countess Henriette von Lichnowski; pub. 1802.
52. _Eight Songs_: words by Claudius, Sophie von Mereau, Buerger,
Goethe, and Lessing; partly composed in Bonn before 1792.
53. _Grand Sonata_ for piano, in C major; ded. to Count Waldstein;
composed in 1803 (?).
54. _Sonata_ for piano, in F major; composed 1803 (?).
55. _Third Symphony_ (Eroica) for orchestra, in E flat; ded. to Prince
Lobkowitz; composed 1803-4.
56. _Triple Concerto_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, with
orchestra, in C major; composed 1804-5.
57. _Grand Sonata_ for piano, in F minor; ded. to the Count von
Brunswick; composed 1804.
58. _Fourth Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in G major; ded. to the
Archduke Rudolph; composed 1806 (?).
59. _Three Quartets_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in F
major, E minor, and C major; ded. to Prince Rasoumowski; composed
1806.
60. _Fourth Symphony_ for orchestra, in B flat; ded. to Count
Oppersdorf; composed 1806.
61. _Concerto_ for violin and orchestra, in D major; ded. to Stephan
von Breuning; composed 1806.
62. _Overture_: "_Coriolanus_," in C minor; ded. to the dramatist
Heinrich von Collin; composed 1807.
63. _Sonata_ for piano, violin, and violoncello (from the Octet, Op.
103); pub. 1807.
64. _Sonata_ for piano, violin, and violoncello (from the Trio, Op.
3); pub. 1807.
65. _Scena and Aria_: "_Ah, perfido!_" for soprano voice and
orchestra; ded. to the Countess Clari; composed 1796.
66. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in F major, on the
theme, "_Ein Maedchen oder Weibchen_," from Mozart's "_Zauberfloete_;"
pub. 1798.
67. _Fifth Symphony_ for orchestra, in C minor; ded. to Prince
Lobkowitz and Count Rasoumowski; composed 1808 (?).
68. _Sixth Symphony_ (_Pastorale_) for orchestra, in F major; ded. to
Prince Lobkowitz and Count Rasoumowski; composed 1808 (?).
69. _Sonata_ for piano and violoncello, in A major; ded. to Baron von
Gleichenstein; pub. 1809.
70. _Two Trios_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, in D major and E
flat major; ded. to the Countess Marie Erdoedy; composed 1808.
71. _Sextet_ for two clarionets, two flutes, and two bassoons;
performed 1804-5.
72. "_Fidelio_" ("_Leonora_"), opera in two acts; composed 1804-5.
73. _Fifth Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in E flat; ded. to the
Archduke Rudolph; composed 1809.
74. _Quartet_ (tenth) for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in E
flat; ded. to Prince Lobkowitz; composed 1809.
75. _Six Songs_: words by Goethe and Reissig; ded. to the Princess
Kinsky; composed 1810.
76. _Variations_ for piano, in D major, on an original (?) theme,
afterwards employed as the "_Turkish March_" in the "_Ruins of
Athens_;" ded. to his friend Oliva; pub. 1810.
77. _Fantasia_ for piano, in G minor; ded. to the Count von Brunswick;
composed 1809.
78. _Sonata_ for piano, in F sharp major; ded. to the Countess von
Brunswick; composed 1809.
79. _Sonatina_ for piano, in G major; pub. 1810.
80. _Fantasia_ for piano, orchestra, and chorus, in C minor;
words--"_Schmeichelnd hold und lieblich klingen_"--by Kuffner; ded. to
Maximilian Joseph of Bavaria; performed 1808.
81_a_. _Sonata_ for piano--"_Les Adieux_,"--in E flat; ded. to the
Archduke Rudolph; composed 1809.
81_b_. _Sextet_ for two violins, viola, violoncello, and two horns
(_obbligato_), in E flat; pub. 1810.
82. _Four Ariettas_ and a _Duet_, with pianoforte accompaniment; words
of Nos. 2, 3, and 5 by Metastasio; pub. 1811.
83. _Three Songs_; words by Goethe; ded. to the Princess Kinsky;
composed 1810.
84. _Overture and incidental Music to "Egmont;"_ composed 1809-10.
85. "_The Mount of Olives_," an oratorio; text by Franz Xaver Huber;
composed 1800 (?).
86. _First Mass_, for four voices and orchestra, in C major; ded. to
Prince Esterhazy; composed 1807.
87. _Trio_ for wind instruments, in C major; performed 1797.
88. "_Das Glueck der Freundschaft_," for voice and piano; pub. 1803.
89. _Polonaise_ for piano, in C major; ded. to the Empress Elisabetha
Alexiewna, of Russia; composed 1814.
90. _Sonata_ for piano, in E minor; ded. to Count Moritz Lichnowski;
composed 1814.
91. "_The Battle of Vittoria_," for orchestra; ded. to the Prince
Regent of England; composed 1813.
92. _Seventh Symphony_ for orchestra, in A major; ded. to Count Fries;
composed 1812.
93. _Eighth Symphony_ for orchestra, in F major; composed 1812.
94. "_To Hope_;" words from the "_Urania_" of Tiegde (second setting,
_see_ Op. 32); composed 1816.
95. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in F minor;
ded. to Secretary Zmeskall; composed 1810.
96. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in G major; ded. to the Archduke
Rudolph; composed 1810.
97. _Trio_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, in B flat; ded. to the
Archduke Rudolph; composed 1811.
98. "_An die ferne Geliebte_," a _Liederkreis_; words by Jeitteles;
ded. to Prince Lobkowitz; composed 1816.
99. "_Der Mann von Wort_," for voice and piano; words by Kleinschmid;
pub. 1815.
100. "_Merkenstein_," for one or two voices and piano; words by
Rupprecht; composed 1814.
101. _Sonata_ for piano, in A major; ded. to the Baroness Erdmann;
composed 1815.
101. _Two Sonatas_ for piano and violoncello, in C major and D major;
ded. to the Countess Erdoedy; composed 1815.
103. _Octet_ for wind instruments, in E flat major; composed in Bonn
before 1792.
104. _Quintet_ for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in C
minor (from the Trio No. 3 of Op. 1); pub. 1819.
105. _Six Themes varies_ for piano, with violin _ad libitum_; composed
for George Thomson, 1818-19.
106. _Sonata_ for piano, in B flat; ded. to the Archduke Rudolph;
composed 1818.
107. _Ten Themes varies russes, ecossais, tyroliens_, for piano, with
violin _ad libitum_; composed for George Thomson, 1818-20.
108. _Twenty-five Scotch Melodies_ for one or two voices and chorus
(_obbligato_), violin, viola, and 'cello.
109. _Sonata_ for piano, in E major; ded. to Fraeulein Brentano;
composed 1821 (?).
110. _Sonata_ for piano, in A flat major; composed 1821.
111. _Sonata_ for piano, in C minor; ded. to the Archduke Rudolph;
composed 1822.
112. "_Meeresstille und glueckliche Fahrt_," for four voices and
orchestra; ded. to "the Author of the Poem, the immortal Goethe;"
composed 1815.
113. _Overture_: "_The Ruins of Athens_," composed 1811-12.
114. _Marches and Choruses_ from "_The Ruins of Athens_."
115. _Overture_: "_Namensfeier_," in C major; ded. to Prince
Radziwill; composed 1814.
116. _Terzetto_ for soprano, tenor, and bass, with orchestral
accompaniment; composed 1801.
117. _Overture and Choruses_: "_King Stephen_;" performed 1812.
118. _Elegy in memory of the Baroness Pasqualati_: "_Sanft wie du
lebtest hast du vollendet_;" ded. to the Baron Pasqualati; composed
1814.
119. _Twelve Bagatelles_ for piano; composed 1820-22.
120. _Thirty-three Variations_ on a waltz by Diabelli; ded. to Madame
Brentano; composed 1823.
121_a_. _Adagio, Variations, and Rondo_, for piano, violin, and
violoncello, in G major; theme, "_Ich bin der Schneider Kakadu_;" pub.
1824.
121_b_. "_Opferlied_" for solo, chorus, and orchestra; words by
Matthison; composed 1822.
122. "_In allen guten Stunden_," for solo and chorus, with two
clarionets, two horns, and two bassoons, words by Goethe; composed
1822.
123. _Missa Solemnis_ for four voices, chorus, and orchestra, in D
major; ded. to the Archduke Rudolph; composed 1818-1822.
124. _Overture_: "_Weihe des Hauses_," in C major; ded. to Prince
Galitzin; composed 1822.
125. _Ninth Symphony_ (_Jupiter_), with final chorus on Schiller's
"_Ode to Joy_," for orchestra, four voices, and chorus, in D minor;
ded. to Frederick William III. of Prussia; composed 1822-3.
126 _Six Bagatelles_ for piano; composed about 1821.
127. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in E flat;
ded. to Prince Galitzin; composed 1824.
128. "_The Kiss_;" Arietta for voice and piano; composed 1822.
129. _Rondo capriccioso_ in G major.
130. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in B flat;
ded. to Prince Galitzin; composed 1825.
131. _Quartet_ fr two violins, viola, and violoncello, in C sharp
minor; ded. to the Baron von Stutterheim; composed 1826.
132. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in A minor;
ded. to Prince Galitzin; composed 1825.
133. _Grand Fugue_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in B flat;
ded. to the Cardinal Archduke Rudolph; composed 1825.
134. _Grand Fugue_ (Op. 133 arranged for piano for four hands).
135. _Quartet_ (the sixteenth) for two violins, viola, and 'cello, in
F major; ded. to Herrn Wolfmeier; composed 1826.
136. "_Der Glorreiche Augenblick_," cantata for four voices and
orchestra; text by Dr. Weissenbach; ded. to Franz I., Emperor of
Austria, Nicholas I., Emperor of Russia, and Frederick William III.,
King of Prussia; composed 1814.
137. _Fugue_ for two violins, two violas, and 'cello, in D major;
composed 1817.
138. _Ouverture caracterisstique_; "_Leonora_" No. 1, in C major.
II. COMPOSITIONS DESIGNATED SIMPLY BY _Numbers_.
No. 1_a_. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violin, in F major; Theme:
"_Se vuol ballare_," from Mozart's "_Figaro_;" ded. to Eleanore von
Breuning; pub. 1793.
1_b_. _Thirteen Variations_ for piano, in A major; Theme: "_Es war
einmal ein alter Mann_;" pub. 1794.
2. _Nine Variations_ for piano, in A major; Theme: "_Quant e piu
bello_;" pub. 1796.
3_a_. _Six Variations_ for piano; Theme: "_Nel cor piu non mi sento_;"
composed 1795.
3_b_. _Two Minuets_ for piano, for four hands.
4. _Twelve Variations_ for piano, in C major; Theme: "_Menuet a la
Vigano_;" pub. 1796.
5_a_. _Twelve Variations_ for piano, in A major; Theme from the ballet
of the "_Waldmaedchen_;" pub. 1797.
5_b_. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in G major;
Theme: "_See, the Conquering Hero comes!_" pub. 1804.
6. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in F major. (_See_
Op. 66.)
7. _Eight Variations_ for piano in C major; Theme from Gretry's
"_Richard Coeur de Lion_;" pub. 1798.
8. _Ten Variations_ for piano in B flat major; Theme: "_La stessa, la
stessissima_;" pub. 1799.
9. _Seven Variations_ for piano, in F major; Theme: "_Kind willst du
ruhig schlafen_;" pub. 1799.
10_a_. _Eight Variations_ for piano, in F major; Theme: "_Taendeln and
Scherzen_;" composed 1799.
10_b_. _Seven Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in E flat; Theme
from the "_Magic Flute_;" composed 1801 (?).
11. _Six very easy Variations_ on an original Theme; composed 1801.
12. _Six easy Variations_ for piano or harp, in F major; Theme: "_Air
suisse_;" pub. 1799 (?).
13. _Twenty-four Variations_ for piano, in D major, on a Theme by
Righini; composed about 1790.
14-23. _Wanting._
24. "_Der Wachtelschlag_," for voice and piano; words by Sauter; pub.
1804.
25. _Seven Variations_ for piano, in C major; Theme: "_God save the
King_;" pub. 1804.
26. _Five Variations_ (favourite) for piano, in D major; Theme:
"_Rule, Britannia_;" pub. 1804.
27. _Six Variations_ for piano, for four hands, in D major, on an
original Theme; composed 1800.
28. _Minuet_ for piano.
29. _Prelude_ for piano, in F minor; pub. 1805.
30, 31. _Wanting._
32. "_To Hope_," by Tiedge (_see_ Op. 94).
33, 34. _Wanting._
35. _Andante_ for piano in F major (originally in the Sonata, Op. 53),
composed 1803 (?).
36. _Thirty-two Variations_ for piano, in C minor, on an original
Theme; pub. 1807.
37. _Wanting._
38. "_Die Sehnsucht_:" four Melodies for voice and piano; text by
Goethe; pub. 1810.
III. COMPOSITIONS DESIGNATED BY _Letters_.
A. INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC.
_a._ _Trio_ for piano, violin, and violoncello (in one movement), in B
flat; ded. to "my little friend, Maximiliana Brentano, for her
encouragement in pianoforte playing;" composed 1812.
_b._ _Rondo_ for piano and violin, in G major; pub. 1800.
_c._ _Andante_ for piano, in G.
_d._ _Sonata_ for piano, in C major (_incomplete_); composed 1796.
_e._ _Two easy Sonatinas_ for piano, in G major and F major; composed
in Bonn.
_f._ _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in E flat major, F minor, and D major;
ded. to the Elector Max. Friedrich; composed at the age of eleven.
_g._ _Rondo_ for piano, in A major; pub. 1784.
_h._ _Andante_ on the text: "_Oh Hoffnung, du staehlst die Herzen_"
(Ex. for the Archduke Rudolph).
_i._ _Favourite March_ of the Emperor Alexander.
_k._ _Eight Variations_ for piano in B flat; Theme: "_Ich habe ein
kleines Huettchen nur_."
_l._ _Variations_ for piano, on a March by Dressler; composed at the
age of ten.
_m._ _Variations_ for piano, for four hands, on an original theme.
_n._ _Variations_ for piano, for four hands, in A major.
_o._ _Triumphal March for orchestra_, in C major; performed 1813.
_p._ _Second and Third Overtures to "Leonora"_ ("_Fidelio_"), in C
major.
_q._ _Overture to "Fidelio"_ ("_Leonora_" No. 4), in E major.
_r._ _Triumphal March_ for orchestra, in G major.
_s._ _Three Duos_ for clarionet and bassoon, in C major, F major, and
B flat; composed about 1800.
_t._ _Minuet_ for piano (from the Septet, Op. 20).
_u._ _Quintet_ (MS.), for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in
F major.
B. DANCE MUSIC.
Twelve Contre danses.
Twelve Minuets for orchestra.
Six Minuets for piano.
Twelve _Danses Allemandes_ for two violins and bass.
Seven Country Dances for piano.
Six Country Dances for piano.
Twelve _Ecossaises_ for piano.
Six _Allemandes_ for piano and violin.
Twelve Waltzes with Trios for orchestra.
Six Waltzes for two violins and bass.
Two Minuets for piano, for four hands.
Six Country Dances for piano.
Two Favourite Waltzes for piano, in B flat major and E minor.
C. VOCAL MUSIC.
_a._ _Six Songs_ from Reissig's "_Bluemchen der Einsamkeit_:"--
1. "_Sehnsucht_," in E major.
2. "_Krieger's Abschied_," in E flat.
3. "_Der Juengling in der Fremde_," in B flat.
4. "_An den fernen Geliebten_," in G major.
5. "_Der Zufriedene_," in A major.
6. "_Der Liebende_," in D major.
_b._ _Three Songs:_--
1. "_An die Geliebte_," in B flat.
2. "_Das Geheimniss_," in G major.
3. "_So oder so! Nord oder Sued._"
_c._ _Italian and German Songs:_--
1. "_La Partenza_" ("_ecco quel fiore_").
2. "_Trinklied._"
3. "_Liedchen von der Ruhe._"
4. "_An die Hoffnung._"
5. "_Ich Liebe dich, so wie du nich._"
6. "_Molly's Abschied._"
7. "_Ohne Liebe._"
8. "_Wachtelgesang._"
9. "_Marmotte._"
10. "_Maigesang._"
11. "_Feuerfarbe._"
12. "_Ecco quel fiori istanti._"
_d._ _Songs_, for one or more voices, from Shakspere, Byron, and Moore.
_e._ "_Der Glorreiche Augenblick_," for four voices and orchestra.
_f._ "_Lied aus der Ferne._"
_g._ _Three Songs_ from Tiedge.
_h._ _Three Songs._
_i._ _Three Songs._
_k._ "_Oh! dass ich dir vom stillen Auge._"
_l._ "_Sehnsucht nach dem Rhein._"
_m._ "_Die Klage._"
_n._ _Three Andantes._
_o._ "_Ruf vom Berge._"
_p._ "_Der Bardengeist_."
_q._ "_Als die Geliebte sich trennen wollte._"
_r._ _Elegy_ on the death of a Poodle.
_s._ _Arietta_ in A flat major.
_t._ _Canon_ in E flat major.
_u._ "_Zaertliche Liebe._"
_v._ "_Resignation_," "_Lisch' aus_," in E major.
_w._ _Canon_ for six voices.
_x._ _Canon_ for four voices.
_y._ _Canon_ for three voices.
_z._ _Canon_ written in the album of Director Neide.
_tz._ _Song of the Monks_, from Schiller's "_Wilhelm Tell_."
_a^{2}._ "_Song of the Nightingale._"
_b^{2}._ "_Germania's Wiedergeburt_," for four voices and orchestra.
_c^{2}._ "_Abschiedsgesang an Wien's Buerger._"
_e^{2}._ Final songs from (1) "_Die Ehrenpforte_," in D major; (2)
"_Die gute Nachricht_."
_f^{2}._ "_Andenken von Matthison_"--allegretto.
_g^{2}._ Three-part _Song_.
IV. COMPOSITIONS WHICH APPEARED AFTER BEETHOVEN'S DEATH, WITHOUT BEING
DESIGNATED AS _Op._ OR _No._
_a._ "_Beethoven's Heimgang_," for voice and piano.
_b._ "_An Sie_," Song, in A flat major.
_c._ _Two Songs_:--
1. "_Seufzer eines Ungeliebten._"
2. "_Die laute Klage._"
_d._ "_Die Ehre Gottes in der Natur_," for four voices and orchestra,
in C major.
_e._ _Cantata: "Europa steht."_
_f._ _Song, "Gedenke mein."_
_g._ "_Empfindungen bei Lydia's Untreu_," in E flat.
_h._ "_Equali_," two pieces for four trombones.
_i._ _Allegretto_ for orchestra.
_k._ _Three Quartets._
_l._ _Rondo_ for piano and orchestra.
_m._ _Octet_ for wind instruments (now Op. 103.)
_n._ _Rondino_ for eight-part harmony.
_o._ _Two Trios_ for piano, violin, and 'cello.
_p._ _Military March_ for piano.
_q._ "_Lament at Beethoven's Grave._"
_r._ "_The Last Musical Thought._"
J. AND W. RIDER, PRINTERS, LONDON.
A NOVEL WITH TWO HEROES.
BY ELLIOTT GRAEME,
AUTHOR OF "BEETHOVEN; A MEMOIR," &C.
_In Two Vols. Post 8vo._
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
"We can sincerely congratulate Mr. Graeme on having achieved a decided
literary success.... The story is written in a lively and agreeable
style ... the simple life of the worthy Director is charmingly told....
Several of the portraits are evidently taken from life.... The interest
of the story centres in Mala, the beautiful girl, who inherits her
father's genius.... The characters of Mr. Chesney, the stately and
somewhat pompous rector, and of his anti-type, a parson of quite another
school, are drawn with singular truthfulness and freedom from
exaggeration."--_Athenaeum._
"Above the average even of good novels ... clever and amusing ... free
from sensationalism, though full of interest, and of interest which
touches many of the deeper chords of life. Mr. Graeme's delineation of
character is remarkably good.... After all, the English rector is the
gem of the book; the crust of his character so hard, but the ring of the
metal itself, though harsh, so true.... Mr. Graeme's canvas is so
crowded, that it is really difficult to select figures for illustration.
When we have given the notice their prominence demands to some of the
leading characters, we find our heartiest admiration and our keenest
dislike really reserved for the subordinate actors, who yet are very
real in the byplay on which so much of the story turns, as it would turn
in actual life."--_Spectator._
"In 'A Novel with Two Heroes,' Mr. Graeme has produced a story of deep
interest, and something more,--he has given us a love-story, or rather,
two or three love-stories, without the least frivolity of the kind that
most of the novel-writers of the day seem to think is the necessary
accompaniment of love-making. He has shown intimate knowledge of the
springs of human nature, and a power of description which is not the
less admirable that it is quiet and unpretentious. There are some
domestic scenes which, for their simplicity and their obvious
reproduction from real life, have not often been excelled; while, again,
there are dramatic scenes powerful almost to painfulness in their
intensity, without being in the least disfigured by big or strong words.
Womanly beauty and natural scenery Mr. Graeme touches with a light hand,
contriving to tell more about them in a few words or lines than most
people could do in as many pages.... Sir Robert Chesney is a good,
plucky English lad, without a serious flaw in him, but not fond of
learning, though full of humour. His experiences with his uncle are
delightful.... It would be easy to go through the novel and pick out
passages of high excellence.... Abundant merit of a high order is shown
throughout, alike in construction, plot, and treatment."--_Scotsman._
"We can only point out some of the beauties of this fresh and
interesting production.... One of its great charms is its singular
purity.... In drawing his characters Mr. Graeme brings out strongly, yet
without the least effort, the pathetic side of most lives; and he
brightens them up at the same time with many a touch of genuine
humour.... Mr. Graeme is no surface painter.... 'A Novel with Two
Heroes' may safely be recommended to all who can appreciate delicacy of
sentiment, combined with clever portraiture and thorough knowledge of
life."--_Morning Post._
"One of the most promising works of fiction which it has been our lot to
encounter of late years. Not for a long time have we read a more
pleasant and enjoyable story, full of poetry and life and music, rich in
subtle delineation of character, vigorous word-painting, and graphic
portraitures, all steeped in that delightful dreaminess and mystic
beauty with which German tales are so often and so richly flavoured....
We have been led to dwell at length on the defects of Mr. Graeme's work
because it is one of those productions which can stand, and, we shall
add, deserve severe criticism. Were the faults a hundred times more
numerous and grave than we have indicated, the novel would still be a
remarkable production. The pictures of German life--the St. Cecilian
festival, the _Fastnacht_, or annual Saturnalia at Lent, the Procession
of St. Agnes, the sails on the river, &c., &c., are all painted with a
fidelity and power not often met with but in Scott. Even more remarkable
are the humour and pathos, as well as the variety and originality of the
portraitures. Every character is full of life and
individuality."--_Glasgow Herald._
"This work has sterling merits."--_Saturday Review._
"Better worth reading than five out of six of the novels of the
day."--_Examiner._
"Will be heartily welcomed by all lovers of a good story."--_Graphic._
"Uncommon scenes and characters uncommonly well
described."--_Illustrated London News._
"Mr. Graeme has an eye for colours. He seizes upon the telling points of
a story, and paints in the picturesque details of a passing
scene."--_Westminster Review._
"Very lifelike; displays depth and originality of thought."--_John
Bull._
"Superior in all respects to the common run of novels."--_Daily News._
"A novel with some delightfully fresh characters; ... not a page but is
attractive."--_Daily Telegraph._
"This eminently readable novel ... displays an acquaintance with human
nature, and a power of description of the happiest kind."--_Leeds
Mercury._
LONDON: CHARLES GRIFFIN AND COMPANY.
End of Project Gutenberg's Beethoven: A Memoir (2nd Ed.), by Elliott Graeme