IN THE SHADOWS
As a day well spent gives joyful sleep,
So does a life well spent give joyful death.
--LEONARDO DA VINCI.
The C sharp minor Quartet and the one in F, opus 135, which rounds out
this wonderful series, were all but completed before leaving Vienna on
the visit to Johann. That there was some polishing still to be done on
the latter is apparent from the fact that it has the superscription in
the master's handwriting, "Gneixendorf am 30 Oktober 1826." The finale
has these curious sentences: "Der schwergefasste Entschluss. Muss es
sein? Es muss sein." Question and answer turn on the subject of paying
his room rent according to Schindler, the dialogue being a reminiscence
of previous times. Beethoven often made some discussion when his rent
was demanded, either from the desire to extract some sport from the
situation, or from fear of being cheated. It often had to be
demonstrated to him by the aid of an almanac that the time was up and
the money really due.
The only work begun and completed by the master while at Gneixendorf was
the new finale, which replaced the long fugue of the B flat Quartet. It
proved to be his last work. The series of unpleasant events referred to
in the last chapter ensued, and, without considering consequences, he
returned to Vienna.
It is not likely that Johann or his wife exerted themselves much to keep
him longer. They intended spending the winter in Vienna themselves, and
were probably relieved to have the visit ended so that they could make
their preparations for the journey. With his usual impatience, he must
needs take the first conveyance which was to be had. Johann had a closed
carriage, but would not let him have it, and the journey was made in a
light open wagon. December had arrived and the weather, which had been
fine all the fall, was now bad. He was insufficiently clothed for the
two days' drive in such weather. He contracted inflammation of the lungs
on the way, and reached his quarters in the house of the Black
Spaniards, a very sick man.
This house, his last earthly abiding-place, had been his home for the
past year. It was a disused monastery, which had been established in
1633 by the daughter of Philip III of Spain on taking up her residence
in Vienna after her marriage. The original building was destroyed in one
of the wars of that turbulent time, but was rebuilt at the end of the
seventeenth century. The building was demolished in 1904. It was
situated on the glacis, in a part of the city where Beethoven had lived
much of the time since coming to Vienna.
The fates seem to have been against him from the beginning of his
journey. His sleeping-room was an enormous one on the second floor,
which, with two small anterooms, composed the apartment. The facilities
for heating a room of that size, in those times must have been wholly
inadequate. Several days elapsed before a physician could be found to
attend him. He had quarrelled with two of his former physicians and each
refused his aid. Finally, a professor from the medical college, a Dr.
Wawruch, was summoned, who took the case in hand. Schindler states that
it was several days before he or any of the master's friends knew of his
arrival in Vienna, and leaves the inference that he was unattended
during this interval except by his nephew. When they learned of his
return, Schindler and Stephen von Breuning were unremitting in their
attentions.
As Beethoven had taken a violent prejudice against Dr. Wawruch, another
physician, Dr. Malfatti, was engaged, who acted in conjunction with the
former. The treatment was now changed, large quantities of iced punch
being administered, probably with the view of relieving the congestion
of the stomach. This mode of treatment exactly suited the sick man, a
result which was probably foreseen by the astute Dr. Malfatti, who had
prescribed for Beethoven during previous illnesses and knew his
patient's idiosyncrasies. Beethoven's childlike simplicity is
illustrated in the difference of his demeanor toward his two physicians.
He always had a warm welcome for the one who had administered the iced
punch, remembering no doubt its immediately alleviating and beneficial
results, but Dr. Wawruch fared poorly at his hands, especially when he
was in a bad humor. On more than one occasion when the latter appeared
the patient turned his face to the wall with the remark, "Ach der Esel."
Everything possible was now done to add to his comfort. Two servants
were engaged to attend him. His friends cheered him by their visits.
Hümmel called, bringing his young pupil Ferdinand Hiller. Some of
Schubert's songs were brought him, probably by Hüttenbrenner. They
consisted of Die Junge Nonne, Der Taucher, the Ossian songs, Die
Bürgschaft. Schindler states they awakened the master's surprise and
delight, eliciting from him the remark, "Truly, Schubert has the divine
fire."
Beethoven was so eager for work that he attempted composition again in
the intervals of his illness, but his strength was not sufficient to
enable him to go on with it. Hitherto his one resource in every
difficulty had been his work. The injunction of Saint-Simon, to lead
during the whole of the vigorous portion of manhood the most original
and active life possible, had been perforce carried out by him. Now that
his one resource, work, failed him, he was bereft. He sought to pass the
time by reading, and began with Kenilworth in a German translation, but
soon threw it down saying: "The man writes only for money."
The volatile Holz did not fail him in his need, but manifested his
friendship by many kind acts. His former publishers the Haslingers,
Tobias and Karl, as well as Diabelli, called occasionally. The Archduke
at Olmütz could hardly have been expected to come, especially as a fatal
termination was not for some time considered probable. We hear nothing
of Czerny, of Schuppanzich, of Linke, or of Zmeskall, which to say the
least, is singular. Schindler's omission of these names, however, has no
particular significance; he wrote many years after the event, and forgot
or omitted the mention of circumstances of greater importance than
this. It is not like what we know of the character of Czerny, or
Zmeskall, to neglect Beethoven in his extremity. The master's old
friend, Stumpf, of London, sent him a splendid edition of Händel's works
in forty volumes, with which he occupied himself a good deal. They
afforded him much enjoyment.
Anxiety on account of money, so prevalent all through these latter
years, was increased by his enforced abstinence from work. What he
chiefly desired now was sufficient ready money to carry him through, so
that he would not have to break into the little hoard put by for Karl
many years before. At this juncture the Philharmonic Society of London
sent him one hundred pounds, being an advance payment on account of a
concert they intended giving for his benefit. The initiative in this
matter was taken by Beethoven himself, and it is safe to say that
nothing that was done for him during this period was so appreciated, or
gave him so much pleasure, as this act of kindness from the Society. The
money reached him about ten days after an operation had been performed
on him for the relief of the dropsical accumulations incidental to his
liver trouble. Four such operations had been found necessary during this
illness. They were at best only palliative. His joy on receiving the
letter and money from London was such that the wound, not yet healed,
opened, and a great discharge followed. A letter of thanks was sent to
the Society, dictated by the master, but he was too weak even to sign
it.
Schindler relates that Beethoven on nearing middle-age, was wont to
indulge himself in day-dreams of a prosperous future, in which he could
have sufficient means to enable him to live in comfort, keep his
carriage like brother Johann, and have leisure for the refinements of
life. This illusion, maintained by most workers, no doubt brightened his
prosaic, solitary life. Pity that he could not have realized it in some
measure: after the heat and burden of the day, in which he had so well
acquitted himself, it would seem fitting, had he had an evening of life
such as was vouchsafed Wagner, with opportunity for completing his
life-work in peace and contentment.
One result achieved by the master as a consequence of his visit to
Gneixendorf would have afforded him great satisfaction could he have
known it. The matter of making suitable provision for Karl in event of
his own death had lain on his conscience for some time before this
visit, as already stated. While there, he begged his brother Johann to
make a will in Karl's favor, which eventually came to pass.
The army appointment, of which mention has been made, became an
established fact early in December, and the young man soon after left
Vienna to join his regiment. Beethoven never saw him again. He by this
time concurred with his friends in the opinion that the discipline of
military life might be beneficial to him, and was resigned to the
separation.
The great C sharp minor Quartet is indelibly associated with Karl,
through its dedication to Baron von Stutterheim, through whom the
appointment came. The decision to dedicate this work to the Baron, was
arrived at only two weeks before the master's death. The work had been
for some time in the hands of the publishers, Messrs. Schott of Mayence.
Beethoven, finally becoming aware that no more works could be produced
by him, and wishing to reward the Baron in the only way possible,
dictated an urgent letter to Messrs. Schott on the subject. "The
Quartet," he said, "must be dedicated to Field-marshal von Stutterheim,
to whom I am under great obligations. Should the first dedication by any
possibility be already engraved, I beg of you, on every account, to make
this alteration. I will gladly pay any extra expense connected with it."
The last Quartet, opus 135, is dedicated to Johann Wolfmayer, a merchant
of Vienna with whom he had much friendly intercourse. Wolfmayer showed
his interest in the master's work in many ways. It may be mentioned that
he offered him a sum equal to several hundreds of dollars to carry out
his project of writing a Requiem Mass. "Write to Stumpf and Smart," he
said to Schindler a few days before his death, when already too weak to
speak above a whisper. His consideration for others was paramount even
in the face of approaching death.
Notwithstanding the hopeful tone which characterized the letters written
during his last illness, there were times when he knew that he was
making a losing fight. Already on January 3, a month after his return
from Gneixendorf, he wrote a letter to his attorney, Dr. Bach, in the
form of a will, in which as may be supposed, his nephew is his sole
heir. No conditions were imposed on the young man, who, had the will
remained in this form, might have squandered the entire amount. (The
estate netted $5000). This was pointed out to Beethoven by his
counsellor, Dr. Bach, and also Von Breuning, who urged on him the
necessity of adding a codicil to the will, in which the principal would
be tied up for life, leaving only the income available. This he resisted
to within a few days before the end, but finally gave in, and, not
without great difficulty, wrote with his own hand a codicil, consisting
of but three lines, in which the income only was to be enjoyed by the
nephew, the principal to revert to his natural or testamentary heirs,
after Karl's death. Breuning, true to his sense of duty, not satisfied
with having gained his point, endeavored, at the risk of antagonizing
the master, to change the words "natural or testamentary heirs," to
"legitimate heirs." Beethoven was obdurate on the point, however,
saying, "the one term is as good as the other." Von Breuning, good
faithful friend that he was, survived Beethoven but one year.
Schindler dwells on the perfect tranquillity of Beethoven in the face of
approaching death. "Plaudite amici, comoedia finita est," he said on
the day when the codicil was written. On the following day at noon, he
received the last rites of the church. The event was no doubt a solemn
one. Soon after, the death-struggle began, and continued without
interruption for two days. Hüttenbrenner was a faithful attendant during
these last days. His friend Schubert also called, at least once, and, it
is said, was recognized by Beethoven, although he was unable to speak to
him.
The nervous strain on his friends in witnessing this struggle between
life and death, in which but the one issue was possible, must have been
great. It was, no doubt, a relief to Schindler and Von Breuning to leave
the master in Hüttenbrenner's charge on the afternoon of the 26th of
March, and go to Wahring in order to secure a burial-place. While on
this necessary errand, a terrific storm arose, which prevented their
return until night. Meanwhile, Hüttenbrenner, left alone with the
master, endeavored to ease his position by sustaining his head, holding
it up with his right arm. His breathing had been growing perceptibly
weaker, carrying the conviction that the end was near. The storm was of
unusual severity, covering the glacis with snow and sleet. The situation
of the building was such that it was exposed to the full fury of the
tempest. No sign was given by the master that he was conscious of this
commotion of the elements. With the subsidence of the storm at dusk, the
watcher was startled by a flash of lightning, which illumined
everything. This was succeeded by a terrific peal of thunder which
penetrated even Beethoven's ears. Startled into consciousness by the
unusual event, the dying man suddenly raised his head from
Hüttenbrenner's embrace, threw out his right arm with the fist doubled,
remained in this position a moment as if in defiance, and fell back
dead.
The two friends returned some hours after all was over. The master died
at a quarter before six o'clock on the evening of March 26, 1826. He was
in his fifty-seventh year.
The funeral took place on March 29 at 3 P.M. from the church of the
Minorites and was attended by many of the most prominent people of the
city. Eight musicians bore the coffin from the house to the church,
while thirty-two torch-bearers followed it, among the number being
Czerny and Schubert. This was followed by a choir of sixteen male
singers, and four trombones, which alternated in singing and playing.
The music consisted of two equali composed by Beethoven many years
before, arranged for this occasion by Seyfried, to the words of the
_Miserere_ and _Amplius_.
Notwithstanding the immense concourse of people assembled at the
obsequies, estimated at twenty thousand, there was but one relative to
occupy the position of mourner, and that was Johann.
On April 3, Mozart's Requiem was sung at the church of the Augustines,
and shortly thereafter, Cherubini's Requiem was sung for him at the
Karlskirche.
The magnificence of his funeral, when compared with his simple mode of
life, calls to mind the great contrasts which he was always producing in
his music. Equally great contrasts had always come up in his life.
Living in the proudest most exclusive and bigoted monarchy in Europe, at
a time when feudal authority had not yet been entirely abolished, he
held himself to be as good or better than Emperor or Cardinal. On
receiving a request one morning from the Empress of Austria to call on
her, he sent back word that he would be busy all that day, but would
endeavor to call on the following day. There is no record of his having
gone at all. His unjustifiable conduct toward the Imperial family, while
at Töplitz with Goethe, has been touched on in a previous chapter.
Frimmel states that something similar occurred at Baden, but does not
give his authority. Beethoven arraigned the Judiciary, even when writing
conciliatory letters to the judges. In his letters to the different
magistrates during the litigation over his nephew, he is often satirical
and sarcastic in spite of himself. His criticisms of other judges, his
references to the manner in which justice is administered in Austria,
illustrate his temerity and independence. His scorn of the King of
Saxony, on account of being dilatory in paying the subscription for the
Grand Mass, was pronounced. He alludes to him as "the poor Dresdener" in
his letters, and he even went so far as to talk about suing him when the
payment was still longer withheld.[F] All this from a man who at times
did not have a decent coat to wear, or a second pair of shoes; who
sometimes accepted advances from his housekeeper for the necessaries of
life. His life was so simple and circumscribed that he never saw the
ocean, or a snow-covered mountain, although living within sight of the
foothills of the Alps. He never returned to his native city though
living not a great distance from it.
[F] Kalischer. _Neue Beethovenbriefe_. Berlin, 1902.
The immediate cause of death, as demonstrated by the post-mortem held
the day after his decease, was cirrhosis of the liver, the dropsy, of
which Schindler makes such frequent mention, being an outcome of, and
connected with, the liver trouble. The organ showed every indication of
chronic disease. It was greatly shrunken, its very texture being changed
into a hard substance. That alcoholism is the commonest cause of
cirrhosis is well known, but in Beethoven's case some other cause for
the disease must be found. He was in the habit of taking wine with his
meals, a practice so common in Vienna at that time that not to have done
so would have been regarded as an eccentricity, but he never indulged in
it to excess, except possibly on a few occasions when in the company of
Holz. It can hardly be brought about by the use of wines, but is
produced by the inordinate use of spirituous liquors, something for
which Beethoven did not care. Cirrhosis was probably the cause of his
father's death, as he was a confirmed inebriate; but this cannot be
connected with the cirrhosis of the son; the disease is not
transmissible.
Beethoven's deafness probably began with a "cold in the head" which was
neglected. The inflammatory process then extended to the Eustachian
tubes. When it reached this point it was considered out of the reach of
treatment in his time, and for long after. Even in our own time, in the
light of advanced medical science, such a condition is serious and is
not always amenable to treatment, some impairment of the hearing
frequently occurring even with the best of care and under conditions
precluding the thought of a congenital tendency. The difficulty as
revealed by the post-mortem, lay in a thickening of the membrane of the
Eustachian tubes. The office of these tubes is to supply air to the
cavity on the inner side of the drum-membrane, known as the middle ear.
As is well known, a passage exists from the outer ear to the drum. The
Eustachian tubes connect the middle ear with the upper portion of the
throat from whence the air supply to the middle ear is obtained. We
cannot imagine a drum to be such unless there is air on both sides of
the membrane. Exhaust the air of an ordinary drum, and its resonance
would be gone. A similar condition obtained with Beethoven. With the
closure of the Eustachian tubes the air supply to the middle ear was cut
off; the air in the cavity finally became absorbed, and a retraction and
thickening of the drum-membrane with consequent inability to transmit
sound vibrations followed.
The hypothesis of heredity, sometimes brought forward to account for
his deafness, would have more weight had the lesion shown itself in the
case of either of his other brothers. As it is, there is no hint to be
found of even a tendency to deafness in any other of the Beethovens,
whether Johann, Karl, or the nephew. In any event a congenital tendency
of this kind would have been more likely to develop itself in Karl, the
weakling, than in the sturdy Ludwig.
The master's known impulsiveness and carelessness in matters connected
with the preservation of his health, lead to the conclusion that he
himself contributed much to his deafness. He was fond of pure air
outside, but sometimes had for a sleeping room an alcove wholly without
ventilation, so dark that he had to dress in another room. We hear much
of his practice of taking brisk walks on the ramparts or in the suburbs,
in the intervals of his work. There is at least one instance on
record,--there were probably many such cases,--of his coming in after a
walk, overheated, perspiring, and seating himself before an open window
in a draught. Another hygienic measure which he abused was his custom of
frequently bathing his head in cold water while at work, probably to
counteract the excessive circulation of the blood in the head brought
about by his brain-work. A chilling of the body, particularly in the
neck and the back of the head when overheated is a frequent cause of
inflammation of the middle ear. Von Frimmel calls attention to the
dust-storms which are a feature of Vienna. They were probably worse in
Beethoven's time than now, as but little attention was paid to hygienic
measures in those days. This no doubt aggravated the trouble.