Though the depreciation of the redemption certificates never quite

touched the point feared by him in his letter to Ries in 1815, it

did once amount to 4 for 1; and the Government was again forced to

repudiate its obligations in part. It founded that National Bank

(seven shares in which Beethoven soon afterwards purchased), and

made a contract with a new institution by which the bank assumed the

obligation of redeeming the redemption certificates at the rate of

2-1/2 for 1. It went into full operation July 15, 1817, and thenceforth

Beethoven’s annuity remained instead of 3,400 florins in that paper,

1,360 florins in silver. But this fatal indecision! Could he have but

resolutely taken up any two of the many new symphonies which he had

planned, as the sketchbooks show, and once fairly engaged himself upon

them, he could not have rested until they were finished; he could, and

doubtless would, then have redeemed his promises; and like Handel,

Haydn and many other German musicians of far less note, have secured

from an admiring and generous London public an ample sufficiency for

the future. The standard of excellence was high and catholic in London

and musical taste pure and exalted. True, at the first trial of the

C minor Symphony by the Philharmonic Society a part of it only was

played, for the leader of the violins--really the conductor, as the

orchestras were then constituted--declared it “rubbish.” But this

leader was a German--our old Bonn acquaintance J. P. Salomon. He,

however, repented and made amends. At another trial of it, two or three

years afterwards, after the first movement, Salomon laid his violin

upon the pianoforte, walked to the front and, turning to the orchestra

said (through his nose): “Gentlemen, some years ago I called this

symphony rubbish; I wish to retract every word I then said, as I now

consider it one of the greatest compositions I ever heard!”

[Sidenote: CIPRIANI POTTER AND BEETHOVEN]

We have had occasion heretofore to refer to several young British

Beethoven enthusiasts; another is now added to the list--Cipriani

Potter--who came just at this time to Vienna, bringing letters to the

composer from Neate, Ries, Rode, Dragonetti and others. He heard so

much of Beethoven’s rudeness of manners and moroseness of disposition,

and so often noticed how people shook their heads when he or his

music was mentioned, that he hesitated to visit him. Two weeks had

thus passed when one day, at Streicher’s, he was asked if he had seen

Beethoven and if he had letters to him. He therefore explained why he

had not seen him. He was told this was all nonsense; Beethoven would

receive him kindly. He exclaimed: “I will go out at once!” which he

did, namely, to Mödling.[178] He presented a letter or two, one of

the first being that of Dragonetti. Upon opening that Beethoven also

opened his heart to his visitor and demanded immediately to see some

of his compositions. Potter showed him an overture--probably one that

had been commissioned and played by the London Philharmonic Society in

1816. Beethoven looked through it so hurriedly that Potter thought he

had only glanced at it out of politeness and was greatly astonished

when Beethoven pointed to a deep F-sharp in the bassoon part and said

it was not practicable. He made other observations of a similar nature

and advised him to go to a teacher; he himself gave no lessons but

would look through all his compositions. In answer to Potter’s question

as to whom he would recommend, Beethoven replied: “I have lost my

Albrechtsberger and have no confidence in anybody else”; nevertheless,

on Beethoven’s recommendation Potter became a pupil of Aloys Förster,

with whom he studied a long time until one day the teacher said to

him that he had now studied sufficiently and needed only to practise

himself in composition. This brought out the remark from Beethoven that

no one ought ever to stop studying; he himself had not studied enough:

“Tell Förster that he is an old flatterer!” Potter did so, but Förster

only laughed. Beethoven never complimented Potter to his face; he would

say: “Very good, very good,” but never give unequivocal praise. Yet

at Streicher’s he praised him and expressed his surprise that Potter

did not visit him at Mödling.[179] Once Beethoven advised him never

to compose sitting in a room in which there was a pianoforte, in order

not to be tempted to consult the instrument; after a work was finished

he might try it over on the instrument, because an orchestra was not

always to be had.

Beethoven used to walk across the fields to Vienna very often and

sometimes Potter took the walk with him. Beethoven would stop, look

around and give expression to his love for nature. One day Potter

asked: “Who is the greatest living composer, yourself excepted?”

Beethoven seemed puzzled for a moment, then exclaimed “Cherubini.”

Potter went on: “And of dead authors?” Beethoven answered that he had

always considered Mozart as such, but since he had been made acquainted

with Handel he had put him at the head. The first day that Potter was

with Beethoven the latter rushed into politics and called the Austrian

government all sorts of names.[180] He was full of going to England and

said his desire was to see the House of Commons. “You have heads upon

your shoulders in England,” he remarked. One day Potter asked him his

opinion of one of the principal pianists then in Vienna (Moscheles).

“Don’t ever talk to me again about mere passage players,” came the

answer. At another time Beethoven declared that John Cramer had

given him more satisfaction than anybody else. According to the same

informant, Beethoven spoke Italian fluently but French with less ease.

It was in Italian that Potter conversed with him, making himself heard

by using his hands as a speaking-trumpet; Beethoven did not always

hear everything, but was content when he caught the meaning. Potter

considered “Fidelio” the greatest of all operas and once remarked to

Beethoven that he had heard it in Vienna, which brought out the remark

that he had ~not~ heard it, as the singers then at the opera-house were

not able to sing it. He was asked if he did not intend to write another

opera. “Yes,” replied Beethoven, “I am now composing ‘Romulus’;[181]

but the poets are all such fools; I will not compose silly rubbish.”

Potter told him of the deep impression made upon him by the Septet

when first he heard it; Beethoven replied in effect that when he wrote

the piece he did not know how to compose; he knew now, he thought,

and, either then or at another time, he said, “I am writing something

better now.” Soon after, the Pianoforte Sonata in B-flat (Op. 106) was

published.

Another visitor now, and probably occasionally during the winter

following, was Heinrich Marschner, who had come from Carlsbad to Vienna

on the invitation of Count Amadée. He was 21 years old, ambitious and

eager to get Beethoven’s judgment on some of his compositions, which

he carried to the great master in manuscript. Beethoven received him,

glanced through the music hurriedly, handed it back with a muttered

“Hm,” in a tone more of satisfaction than dispraise, and the words:

“I haven’t much time--do not come often--bring me something again.”

The young man was grievously disappointed; he had expected so much

more. He did not understand Beethoven’s sententious manner, and not

until he told the story of his reception to his patron and Prof. Klein

of Pressburg, did he recall that Beethoven had looked kindly upon

him when he spoke the words and had given him his hand at parting.

He had gone to his lodgings in a passion of despondency, torn up the

manuscripts, packed his trunk with the resolve to abandon music and

return to Leipsic to continue his studies for the profession for which

he had been designed. But now, on the advice of his friends, he took a

different view of Beethoven’s actions, and continued his intercourse

with him. The great man was always gracious, and even occasionally let

fall a word of encouragement; but an intimacy never sprang up between

them.

[Sidenote: ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS PASSION]

Beethoven’s intercourse with a third new acquaintance was, doubtless,

far more delightful than any other; but not at all of the nature

assumed by Schindler, who has attributed to it a very exaggerated

and, indeed, ludicrous importance. This visitor was Frau Marie

Pachler-Koschak, of Gratz, whom Anselm Hüttenbrenner described as

the most beautiful maiden and for several years the most beautiful

woman in her native town, who was called “heaven’s daughter,” and who

“glowed with admiration for Jean Paul, Goethe, Schiller, Beethoven,

Mozart and Schubert.” Beethoven had already heard from Prof. Schneller,

whose pupil she had been, of her extraordinary beauty, talents,

intellectual culture and refinement, and of her genius for music. He

had unconsciously the year before borne testimony to this last in

this wise: Her brother-in-law, Anton Pachler, ~Dr. jur.~ in Vienna,

had at her request showed him for an opinion a fantasia composed by

her, but without disclosing the author’s identity. Beethoven looked

at the piece carefully and said that it was a good deal from one

who had not studied composition, and if the composer were present

he would point out the faults in it; it would take too much time to

do this in writing and the composer would find them out for himself

if he studied diligently. The lady was 24 years old and had been

married a little over a year. She had never been in Vienna, Beethoven

never in Gratz, and they, of course, had never met. But when they

did, it could not be as strangers; for his music had been to her

like a new divine revelation, and such noble mental and personal

qualities as distinguished her always awakened in him feelings akin to

worship. Unfortunately, absolutely nothing is known of their personal

association except that Dr. Anton Pachler introduced her to him,

that she wrote ten years later that “they were often in each other’s

company,” and that Beethoven wrote her two notes “in pencil”--one

utterly illegible, the other in terms placing her as a player of his

pianoforte music even higher than Frau von Ertmann. He wrote:

I am greatly delighted that you will remain another day, we will

make a lot more music, you will play the sonata in F major and C

minor for me, will you not? I have never yet found anybody who

plays my compositions as well as you do. Not even excepting the

great pianists, they either have nothing but technique or are

affected. You are the true guardian of my intellectual offspring.

Her son has so fully exploded Schindler’s assumption that she was the

object of Beethoven’s “autumnal love” that no words need be wasted upon

it. It was, no doubt, upon seeing in Beethoven’s papers the letter

“M”[182] in this outburst of feeling:

Love alone--yes, only love can possibly give you a happier life--O

God, let me--let me finally find the one--who will strengthen me in

virtue--who will ~lawfully~ be mine.

Baden on July 27

when M drove past and seemed to give a glance at me--

A consideration of the dates given in Dr. Pachler’s pamphlet proves

conclusively, however, that this “M” cannot refer to Marie Pachler, for

its writer could never have seen her “drive past” on any 27th of July!

There are few unmarried men of highly sensitive nature who have not

had the bitter experience of a hopeless passion, who have not felt

how doubly grateful at such times is intercourse with a glorious

creature like Madame Pachler, and how beneficial in preventing the

thoughts from continually dwelling on the impossible, and thus aiding

reason and conscience to gain the victory over the heart and fancy.

Now it happens that one of Beethoven’s transient but intense passions

for a married woman, known to have occurred in this period of his

life, has its precise date fixed by these passages in the so-called

“Tagebuch” from the years 1816 and 1817. “In the case of T. there is

nothing to do but to leave it to God, never to go where one might do

a wrong through weakness--to Him, to the all-knowing God, be all this

committed.” And again: “But as kind as possible to T. her attachment

deserves never to be forgotten even if the results could never prove

advantageous to you.” Let the reader recall the passages in his letters

showing a strong desire to leave Vienna and read again: “Work during

the summer for the journey, only thus can you carry out the great

task for your poor nephew, afterwards wander through Italy, Sicily,

with a few artists--make plans and be of good cheer for the sake of

C....” The last initial is uncertain. Other copies have “L.”; what the

original was in Beethoven’s handwriting is not now to be determined.

No instance, however, is known of his writing his nephew’s name with

a C, and this “C” or “L” was probably T. As the family name of this

lady, whose husband was a man of high position and distinction though

not noble by birth, is known, it is certain that the T in the above

citations is not Therese Malfatti, now Baroness Drosdick; but as her

baptismal names have eluded search one can only hint the possibility

that the “T” and “M” may indicate the same person, and that this last

cry of anguish was written a year or two afterwards when the sight of

“M” again, for a moment, tore open a half-healed wound.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN AND MÄLZEL’S METRONOME]

In numbers 5 to 8 inclusive of the “Neue Musik-Zeitung” appeared, from

the pen of J. Kandler, a long article containing historical notices of

various attempts to produce a satisfactory instrument for measuring

time in music, and closing with an account, taken from the English, of

Mälzel’s metronome. To No. 25 (June 19) of the same journal, Gottfried

Weber contributed a paper “On a chronometric tempo designation

which makes Mälzel’s metronome, as well as all other chronometric

instruments, unnecessary,” in which he repeated his idea, already put

forth in the Leipsic “Musikzeitung” in 1813, that the simplest and most

correct chronometer is a simple pendulum, a bit of thread with a bullet

at the end, whose oscillations would mark the duration of measures

according to the length of the thread. This article pleased Beethoven,

and in one of his variations on the theme of pens he commends it to

his “~clarissime amice~” Zmeskall, as the best invention yet made.

Zmeskall took up the subject with interest and in two articles in the

same journal called attention to the fact that Neate, in London, had

described a time measurer of the same kind which was known in England,

but had not remained long in use--“a little ball hanging at the end of

a thread and below it a line divided into a scale of inches.” Zmeskall

approved of Weber’s suggestion in principle but improved upon it by

proposing that the oscillations of the pendulum indicate the duration

of a note instead of a measure, and that the varying lengths of the

pendulum be marked by knots in the thread. Beethoven, to whom Zmeskall

seems to have sent his contrivance, was interested and lauded its

simplicity, playfully wondering whether or not it might be used in

measuring from time to eternity.

Music had already come from the press with Mälzel’s tempo marks, and

Weber, who seems to have had no kindly feeling for him, prints an

article, in the number of the journal following Zmeskall’s, entitled

“Mälzel’s Metronome to be had gratis everywhere,” and gives a table

showing the lengths of a pendulum in Rhenish inches and French

centimetres corresponding to all the numbers on the metronome. As the

months passed, the metronome had come largely into use in England,

France and the United States, but not in Germany and Austria. It was

of high importance to the manufacturers of the instruments to obtain

the countenance and good will of the composers in those countries

also--Salieri, Weigl, Beethoven, etc.--and Mälzel came back to Vienna

to try the effect of personal effort, taking the risk of any serious

consequences arising from the lawsuit between him and Beethoven. But

there were none. The matter was amicably adjusted, each party paying

half of the legal expenses which had been incurred. This would be

incredible had Beethoven had any substantial grounds for the action;

for his sanction of the metronome was of such value that Mälzel would

readily have conceded much to obtain it; and the whole tone of the

composer’s correspondence in this period, so far as relates to his

pecuniary affairs, shows how little likely he was to sacrifice any just

claim.

Beethoven was at first not well disposed to the instrument,

notwithstanding he had joined Salieri and the other composers in

strongly recommending the “chronometer” in 1813, which certificate

had been used in England ~a fortiori~ for the new metronome. In a

letter[183] Mr. Joseph J. Mickley, of Philadelphia, writes: “Mr.

Mälzel, with whom I was well acquainted, told me that he had been

particularly anxious Beethoven should mark his music by his metronome,

and to get his recommendation; that he (B) refused and became quite

indignant, saying: ‘It is silly stuff; one must feel the tempos’”;

but Beethoven soon yielded to the obvious considerations in favor of

the invention. These were presented to the public together with the

objections to Weber’s and Zmeskall’s pendulums, clearly, explicitly

and cunningly by Mosel in an article in Steiner’s “Musik-Zeitung” on

November 27, which put an end to controversy on the topic.

Meanwhile, Beethoven had prepared a table of tempos for his eight

symphonies which was printed in the Leipsic “Allgemeine Musik-Zeitung”

on December 17 (copied, says Nottebohm, from a little pamphlet

published by Steiner and Co. in which also tempos of the Septet were

included), and followed this up with a general metronomizing of his

works. On the autograph of his song, “Nord oder Süd,” he wrote: “100

according to Mälzel; but this must be held applicable to only the first

measures, for feeling also has its tempo and this cannot entirely be

expressed in this figure (i. e., 100).”[184]

If the picture of Mälzel drawn by Schindler and his copyists is true,

even the most Christian and forgiving spirit could scarcely have

demanded more of Beethoven than this public acknowledgement of the

value of the metronome by way of heaping coals of fire upon his head;

but he did more, by writing to Mosel this very valuable and for us very

interesting letter:

I am heartily rejoiced that you agree with me in the opinion

touching the time designations which date back to the barbarous

period in music, for what, for instance, can be more nonsensical

than ~Allegro~, which always means ~merry~ and how often are we

so far from this conception of time that the piece says the very

~opposite of the designation~. As regards these 4 chief speeds

(~Hauptbewegungen~), which by no means have the correctness or

truthfulness of the chief winds, we gladly allow that they be put

aside, it is a different matter with the words used to designate

the character of the composition, these we cannot give up, since

time is really more the body while these have reference to the

spirit. So far as I am concerned I have long thought of giving

up the nonsensical designations ~Allegro~, ~Andante~, ~Adagio~,

~Presto~; Mälzel’s metronome gives us the best opportunity to do

this. I give you ~my word~ that I shall ~never use them again~ in

my new compositions--it is another question if we shall thereby

accomplish the necessary universal use of the instrument--I do

not think so. But I do not doubt that we shall be decried as

~taskmasters~, if the cause might thus be served it would still

be better than to be accused of ~feudalism~--I therefore think

that it would be best, especially in our countries where music has

become a national need and every village schoolmaster ought to use

the metronome, that Mälzel try to dispose of a certain number of

metronomes by subscription at higher prices, and that as soon as

his expenses are thus covered he will be in a position to furnish

the needed metronome for the national need so cheaply that the

greatest universality and ~widest distribution~ may be expected.

It is self-evident that somebody must take the initiative in this

matter so that zeal be aroused. As for me you may count on me and I

await with pleasure the post of duty to which you will assign me.

Still more: he joined with Salieri in a public announcement which was

printed in the “Wiener Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung” of February

14, 1818, setting forth that the metronome would attest its utility

forever, was indispensable to all students of singing, the pianoforte

or other instruments, etc. On one of the last days of December,

Beethoven writes to Madame Streicher: “Day before yesterday I was busy

with Mälzel, who is in a hurry as he is soon to leave here.” What had

he so important to do with this “rude fellow, wholly without education

or breeding,” to cite his own words? Was it in contemplation to make

this sudden zeal for the metronome a source of pecuniary profit? No one

knows.

[Sidenote: STUDIES IN HOUSEHOLD ECONOMY]

As the lodging in the Sailerstätte was separated from Giannatasio’s

institute by the whole breadth of the Glacis, Beethoven, on his

return from Mödling, exchanged it for one in the house “Zum grünen

Baum,” first ~étage~, 2nd storey, No. 26, in the Gärtnergasse, suburb

Landstrasse. He was now near both his nephew and the Streichers (in

the Ungarstrasse), and, with the aid of Madame Streicher, he had at

last brought his domestic arrangements into a condition so that he

might take his nephew to himself. While making these arrangements,

doubtless he asked practical guidance of some unknown friend touching

his table. On one side of a large sheet of paper (it is now preserved

in the Royal Library in Berlin) he wrote a list of questions which were

painstakingly answered, by the friend to whom they were addressed, on

the opposite page. The questions were as follows:

What ought one to give 2 servants to eat at dinner and supper both

as to quantity and quality?

How often ought one to give them roast meat?

Ought they to have it at dinner and supper too?

That which is intended for the servants, do they have it in common

with the victuals of the master, or do they prepare their own

separately, i. e., do they have different food from the master?

How many pounds of meat are to be reckoned for 3 persons?

What allowance per day do the housekeeper and maid receive?

How about the washing?

Do the housekeeper and maid get more?

How much wine and beer?

Does one give it to them and when?

Breakfast?

Beethoven announced his intention to take his nephew to himself at the

end of the current quarter in a letter to Giannatasio dated November

12, 1817. The step involved not only an increase in his expenses, but

also an abandonment of his engagement with the London Philharmonic

Society and of all the profits which might thence arise. Giannatasio,

moved by his complaints of poverty, and probably also by a desire to

aid him in the proposed visit to London, kindly offered to keep the

boy at a much reduced rate of remuneration for board and instruction.

Beethoven’s reply shows him to be still undecided as to his movements

in the coming spring, and it is possible, could he have made ready the

required symphonies, that he might have gone to England; but now the

new Sonata had got possession of his imagination, and the symphonies

must wait.

But one public appearance professionally of Beethoven is recorded

this year. At the concert for the Hospital Fund on December 25, the

first part was devoted to the Eighth Symphony, which was conducted by

the composer. In the second part Seyfried produced C. P. E. Bach’s

oratorio, “The Israelites in the Wilderness,” which he had revised,

adding to the accompaniments, curtailing the airs, prefixing it

with the well-known fugue on B-A-C-H (orchestrated by himself), and

concluding it with the double chorus “Holy, holy, holy.” Nottebohm

has shown that the sketches for the overture on the name of the great

Leipsic cantor which Beethoven once thought of writing, belong to a

later period; but it is yet possible, if not likely, that he conceived

the idea at this concert. On November 15, Anton Halm gave a concert

for the benefit of the poor in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater at which the

Choral Fantasia was performed; but we know nothing of Beethoven’s

participation in it in any way.

[Sidenote: FUGUES AND THEIR CONTENTS]

It is probable that to this time is to be assigned a portrait in oils

painted by Christoph Heckel, who was a student at the Royal Imperial

Academy in Vienna from 1814 to 1818. Beethoven, it is said, made the

acquaintance of the painter in Streicher’s pianoforte wareroom. There

is but little to be added to what has been said about the compositions

of this almost sterile year. The transcription of the Pianoforte Trio

as a quintet (which was the largest work of the year), and the “Song

of the Monks,” written on the death of Krumpholz, have been mentioned.

Besides these we have a few short songs with pianoforte accompaniment.

“Nord oder Süd” (also known as “So oder So”), the poem by Karl Lappe,

was known and widely liked in a setting by K. Klage. “Resignation”

(“Lisch aus mein Licht”), words by Count Paul von Haughwitz, was

composed towards the end of the Summer, and the sketches show that

Beethoven contemplated a setting for four voices. A Fugue in D major,

for five stringed instruments, was completed on November 28, 1817,

and was designed for the manuscript collection of Beethoven’s works

projected by Haslinger, who published it soon after Beethoven’s death

in 1827, as Op. 137. Beethoven was particularly interested in fugues

at the time. “To ~make~ a fugue requires no particular skill,” he said

later to Holz; “in my study days I made dozens of them. But the fancy

wishes also to assert its privileges, and to-day a new and really

poetical element must be introduced into the old traditional form.” The

sketches for the conclusion of the Quintet fugue (Nottebohm, “Zweite

Beethoveniana,” p. 350) are mixed with notes from Bach and others

showing how zealous were his studies in the form at that time. The year

also saw work done on the Pianoforte Sonata in B-flat, Op. 106, and the

beginning of the Symphony in D minor.

The list of publications for the year is also very small:

1. Sonata for Pianoforte, A major, Op. 101; Steiner and Co.

2. Two Sonatas for Pianoforte and Violoncello, Op. 102, published,

apparently in January, 1817, by Simrock in Bonn, and in 1819 by

Artaria in Vienna.

3. Song: “So oder So”; as supplement in the “Modenzeitung” of

February 25.

4. Song: “Ruf vom Berge”; supplement to Treitschke’s poems, for

which it had been composed at the close of 1816.

5. The canon: “Lerne Schweigen,” written for Neate; supplement to

Kanne’s “Allg. Mus.-Zeit.” March 6, and on June 5 with Payer’s

solution.

6. Volume III of the Welsh songs written for Thomson.

FOOTNOTES:

[172] Mr. Fry was for many years editorial writer and music critic of

the “New York Tribune,” with which Mr. Thayer was also associated for a

time.

[173] Since Thayer wrote, all these letters have been published in

German as well as in English translation and may easily be consulted by

the student.

[174] Dr. Herman Deiters, who wrote the concluding two volumes of

Thayer’s biography, making use of the material and framework left by

the author, devotes twenty-nine pages in the appendix of the fourth

volume to Fanny Giannatasio’s notes of Beethoven’s intercourse with

her father’s family and her sentiments concerning the composer. These

notes, together with a number of letters, had been used by Edward

Duboc (Robert Waldmüller) in the preparation of two articles which

were published in the “Grenzboten” of April 3 and 10, 1857. A complete

transcript of the diary was found by the editor of the present edition

of this biography among Thayer’s posthumous papers and forwarded to Dr.

Deiters. The circumstances under which the transcript was made deserve

to be set forth here. When Thayer took up his permanent abode in Europe

for the purpose of prosecuting his researches concerning Beethoven,

the manuscript was owned by Frau Pessiak, granddaughter of Kajetan

Giannatasio del Rio, daughter of Fanny’s sister Anna, familiarly known

as “Nanni.” Through the mediation of Dr. Gerhard von Breuning, Thayer

had come into possession of a copy of such passages of the diary as

referred to Beethoven. On his first visit to Vienna, Thayer called

upon Frau Pessiak, then a prominent teacher of singing in the Austrian

capital, to thank her for her kind help. The acquaintance thus made,

quickly ripened into a cordial friendship, and when Thayer was about

to return to his home, the lady, to his surprise and delight, placed

the manuscript into his hands and gave him permission to carry it with

him to Trieste for examination at leisure. One reason for the act

was, if possible, to obtain a rectification of what she considered a

grievous wrong done to her aunt’s memory by Ludwig Nohl. This writer

had, some time before, importuned her for the privilege of reading the

diary and using it in the preparation of his biography of Beethoven.

After many protestations, due to the fact that a number of letters

from Beethoven to her grandfather had mysteriously disappeared from

the family archives (Thayer found some of them later in the possession

of a music publishing house in London), Frau Pessiak yielded to Nohl’s

requests. Shortly after the manuscript had been returned to her, there

appeared a booklet entitled: “Eine stille Liebe zu Beethoven. Nach

dem Tagebuch einer jungen Dame. Von Ludwig Nohl.” (Second edition,

Leipsic, 1902), in which excerpts, wrenched from their context, were

made the foundation of a story of a romantic, but unconfessed and

unrequited passion for the composer on the part of the unnamed author

of the diary. Frau Pessiak felt deeply wounded that such unauthorized

and unpardonable use had been made of an effusion designed only for

the eyes of its writer, and wanted now to learn whether or not the

deduction was consistent with the utterances of the diary as a whole.

Thayer, after a study of the manuscript and all the circumstances

connected with the relations between Beethoven and the family of

the writer, thought not; and his conclusion, evidently, was that of

Dr. Deiters also, who printed copious extracts compassing all the

references to Beethoven found in the manuscript.

[Sidenote: A YOUNG WOMAN’S SENTIMENTAL JOURNAL]

In explanation of the sentimental tinge of some of the young woman’s

utterances, which taken alone might easily be interpreted as secret

confessions of a deeper feeling than mere admiration, friendship and

sympathy, it is urged that Fanny Giannatasio del Rio began her diary,

which is not a continuous record, on January 1, 1812, when she was

twenty-two years old; she, therefore, was twenty-six when Beethoven

became a frequent visitor at her father’s house. She was very musical

(so much so that Beethoven did not hesitate to play four-hand pieces

with her), and had been an admirer of his music before she met him.

Two affairs of the heart, both unhappy in their outcome--(her first

lover proved unworthy, her second was an invalid and like an honorable

man unwilling to burden her life with his sufferings; he died in

1815)--had left her inclined to the melancholy mood, with a hunger

for affection and an almost passionate longing to extend sympathy to

those who seemed to her to be in need of care and love. Her outpourings

frequently touch on the border of extravagant sentimentality; but calm

reflection generally intervenes with its wholesome clog. So that, on

the whole, they can be, perhaps ought to be, interpreted as nothing

more than a disclosure of a warm interest in the great composer on the

part of a generous-souled young woman filled with the literary habits

of the period mixed with an overwhelming admiration for his genius and

nobility of character and an impulsive desire to bring some cheer into

his lonely life. Moreover, after the withdrawal of the nephew from the

institute and the cessation of intercourse between Beethoven and the

Giannatasio family, his name disappears from the diary, though it was

continued till 1824.

The friendship which existed for years between Thayer and Frau Pessiak

is attested in two letters from the latter to the former in which the

lady’s recollections of her grandparents and their intercourse with

Beethoven are set forth. Some of the anecdotes contained in these

letters deserve record here. Once, Frau Pessiak relates, there arose a

serious disagreement between her grandfather and Beethoven concerning

the latter’s nephew, which resulted in the boy’s dismissal from the

institute. Thereupon Beethoven wrote to Anna Giannatasio begging her

to intercede with her father and get his consent to Karl’s return,

but at the same time to keep the fact of the writing secret and to

burn the letter as soon as it had been read. The lady respected both

wishes, the latter dictated by the composer’s pride, but she burned

the letter with a heavy heart. “My mother’s admiration for Beethoven,”

adds Frau Pessiak, “was like that of my aunt, so that his wish was to

her a command.” While at a picnic party in the environs of Vienna,

Beethoven stood beside the writer’s mother on the most beautiful

observation point. Suddenly he took out his note-book, tore out a leaf,

drew a staff upon it, jotted down the melody of the song, “Wenn ich

ein Vöglein wär” (Treitschke’s “Ruf vom Berge,” No. 219, in Thayer’s

“Chronological Catalogue”) and handed it to his companion with the

words: “Now, Miss Nanni, do you write the bass for it.” “My mother

cherished the leaf as a precious souvenir for a long time, then gave it

to me because, as she said, I was the most musical one of the family,

and would best appreciate the treasure. I have it preserved under a

glass and frame.” One day Beethoven brought with him the song from

“Faust” beginning: “Es war einmal ein König, der hatt’ einen grossen

Floh” (“Once upon a time there was a king who had a large flea”).

“Aunt and mother had to try it.” Then Beethoven took his seat at the

pianoforte and played the conclusion in which he turned his thumb and

with it struck two adjoining keys at the same time, laughed and said:

“That’s the way to kill him!” On the occasion of Anna Giannatasio’s

birthday, Beethoven came and offered a musical congratulation.

Approaching her he sang with great solemnity the melody of a canon to

the words: “Above all may you want happiness and health, too,--”. Then

he stopped and the lady protested that the wish that she might fail

in happiness and health was scarcely a kind one; whereupon Beethoven

laughed and finished the sentiment with “at no time.” Here is the canon:

[Illustration: Glück fehl Dir vor allem, Gesundheit auch niemalen!]

[175] This letter is dated “February 23, 1816”--another obvious blunder

of the kind to which Beethoven was prone; it should of course be 1817.

In the letter to Steiner last referred to he asks the publisher to keep

the dedication a secret, as he intended it to be a surprise. Thayer

accepted the date and explained the discrepancy with the suggestion

that Beethoven had forwarded a manuscript copy to the baroness. The

theory is no longer tenable. The lady could scarcely be surprised by

a printed copy if she already had the Sonata in manuscript and also

the letter which so plainly shows that the Sonata was written for

her. It is also plain that Schindler was in error when he stated that

the Sonata had been played in public in February, 1816. According to

Nottebohm (“Zweite Beethoveniana,” p. 344), the autograph of the Sonata

bears the inscription: “Neue Sonata für Ham....., 1816, im Monath

November.” Its forthcoming appearance in print was announced in Kanne’s

“Musik-Zeitung” under date January 23, 1817.

[176] The principal contributions to Beethoven’s biography from

Czerny’s pen are in Schmidt’s “Wiener Allg. Mus. Zeitung,” 1845, No.

113; Cock’s “Musical Miscellany,” London, 1852; and manuscript notes in

Jahn’s papers.

[177] It is Thayer who is speaking here.

[178] “Mödling,” said Potter in narrating the incidents of his

association with Beethoven to Mr. Thayer in 1861; but Potter was nearly

69 years old at the time and his memory of the suburbs of Vienna may

have been a trifle faulty. Beethoven was in Mödling in 1818, but

it has not been learned that he went thither after his sojourn in

Heiligenstadt and Nussdorf in 1817. At any rate, he was in Nussdorf

till late September, perhaps early October, and was then on the eve of

a new experiment in housekeeping so that he might have his nephew with

him, concerning which he wrote to Giannatasio in Vienna on November 12.

There is nothing in his letters to Frau Streicher and others at this

time to indicate a change to Mödling, whither he went in May of the

next year after he had reported Potter’s visits to Ries in March.

[179] This agrees with the theory that the first meetings took place at

some other place. To Ries, Beethoven wrote on March 5, 1818: “Botter

[~sic~] visited me a few times; he appears to be a good man and has

talent for composition.”

[180] Other instances of this nature have been recorded in this

biography. In December, 1811, a visitor, Xaver Schnyder von Wartensee,

reported to Nägeli in Zürich that Beethoven had said to him: “All

Viennese, from the Emperor to the bootblack, are good for nothing.” “I

asked him,” von Wartensee continues, “if he took no pupils?” “No,” he

replied, “teaching is a disagreeable task; he had only one pupil who

gave him a great deal of trouble and whom he would like to get rid of

if he could.” “And who is he?” “Archduke Rudolph.”

[181] Treitschke had provided the libretto of “Romulus”; it does not

appear that Beethoven ever began its composition.

[182] The letter, which is reproduced in ~facsimile~ in Schindler’s

biography, is a more or less fantastic scrawl or flourish which may be

read as an “R” as well as an “M.”

[183] The letter to Thayer is dated May 21, 1873. Mälzel, it will be

remembered, lived in Philadelphia for some time before his death at sea

on July 21, 1838.

[184] Thus copied by Fischoff.

Chapter XVIII

The Year 1818--A Broadwood Pianoforte--Commission for an

Oratorio--Conception of the Mass in D--The Nephew; A Mother’s

Struggle for Her Son--The Pianoforte Sonata in B-flat, Op. 106.

[Sidenote: DELIGHT IN THE BROADWOOD PIANOFORTE]

An entry in an old “Porter’s Book” of John Broadwood and Sons,

manufacturers of pianofortes in London, offers an agreeable

starting-point for the story of Beethoven’s life in 1818. In this book

the porter of the firm signs his name, Millet, to the record that

on December 27, 1817, he took from the warehouse “A 6 octave Grand

Pianoforte, No. 7,632, tin and deal case, Thomas Broadwood, Esq.,

marked V. B. care of F. E. J. Bareaux and Co., Trieste (a present to

Mr. van Beethoven, Viene), deliv’d to Mr. Farlowes to be shipped.” Some

time previously Mr. Thomas Broadwood, the then head of the house, with

a Mr. Goding (probably the rich brewer), visited the principal cities

of the continent and doubtless became acquainted with Beethoven and

offered to present to him one of the firm’s pianofortes. On January

3, 1818, Mr. Broadwood seems to have informed Beethoven that the

instrument had been shipped, and exactly one month later Beethoven sent

the following acknowledgment to the generous donor:

~Mon tres cher Ami Broadwood!~

~Jamais je n’eprouvais pas un grand Plaisir de ce que me causa

votre Annonce de cette Piano, avec qui vous m’honorés de m’en faire

présent; je regarderai comme un Autel, ou je deposerai les plus

belles offrandes de mon esprit au divine Apollon. Aussitôt comme je

recevrai votre Excellent Instrument, je vous enverrai d’en abord

les Fruits de l’Inspiration des premiers moments, que j’y passerai,

vous servir d’un souvenir de moi à vous mon très cher B., et je ne

souhaits ce que, qu’ils soient dignes de votre Instrument.~

~Mon cher Monsieur et Ami recevès ma plus grande Consideration de

votre Ami et très humble serviteur~

~Louis van Beethoven~.

~Vienne le 3me du mois Fevrier, 1818.~

This letter was sent to Broadwood by Joseph Anton Bridi of the firm of

Bridi, Parisi and Co., in Vienna, who had evidently been commissioned

to look after the delivery of the instrument to Beethoven after its

arrival in Trieste. At least Bridi, in transmitting the letter to

Broadwood under cover and date February 5, informs the latter that he

had taken the proper steps to have the pianoforte sent to Vienna by

Bareaux (or Barraux) and Co., and asks for instructions how to carry

out what he understands to be the donor’s desire that the instrument be

delivered to Beethoven without his being put to any expense whatever,

not even for the import duty. The latter charge must have been in

the mind of Beethoven when he wrote a letter, without date, to Count

Lichnowsky enclosing a document bearing on the case expressing the

hope that he be permitted to receive the instrument and proposing

to apply by word of mouth to Count Stadion, the Austrian Minister

of Finance. Madame Streicher was also appealed to in the matter,

Beethoven begging her in a letter to ask her “Cousin from Cracow”

to get from the chief customs official in Vienna an order for the

forwarding of the pianoforte, which could be sent to the custom house

in Trieste. But neither Broadwood nor Beethoven was called on to pay

the duty, the Austrian Exchequer remitting the charge. After some

delay the pianoforte was delivered at Streicher’s wareroom and later

sent to Beethoven at Mödling. While it was still in his possession,

Streicher asked Potter to try it, saying that Moscheles and others

could do nothing with it--the tone was beautiful but the action too

heavy. Potter, who was familiar with the English instruments, found no

difficulty in disclosing its admirable qualities. He told Beethoven,

however, that it was out of tune, whereupon the latter replied in

effect: “That’s what they all say; they would like to tune it and

spoil it, but they shall not touch it.” Beethoven’s delight in the

pianoforte must have been great. Bridi reports to Broadwood that the

composer already rejoiced in it in anticipation and expressed a desire

to dedicate the first piece of music composed after its reception

to the donor, “convinced that it would inspire something good.” His

jealousy of it seems to have been so great that he would not permit

anybody to tune it except Stumpff, of London, who came with a letter of

introduction from Broadwood.[185]

The case of the instrument, simple, plain but tasteful in design, is of

mahogany and the structure generally of a solidity and strength paired

with grace which caused no little surprise at the time. The compass

is six octaves from C, five leger-lines below the bass staff. Above

the keys is the inscription: ~Hoc Instrumentum est Thomœ Broadwood

(Londini) donum, propter Ingenium illustrissimi Beethoven~. On the

board, back of the keys, is the name “Beethoven,” inlaid in ebony,

and below this the makers’ mark: “John Broadwood and Sons, Makers of

Instruments to His Majesty and the Princesses. Great Pulteney Street.

Golden Square. London.” To the right of the keyboard are the autograph

names Frid. Kalkbrenner, Ferd. Ries, C. G. Ferrari, J. L. Cramer and

C. Knyvett. The presence of these names gave rise to a theory which

was widely spread, and is not yet wholly dissipated, that their owners

had joined Mr. Broadwood in making the gift; it has also been stated

that the gift came from the Philharmonic Society. This latter statement

is disproved by the fact that the records of the Society contain no

mention of such a transaction; as for the names of the virtuosi,

they were no doubt scratched upon the instrument as a compliment to

Beethoven and an evidence that they had played upon it. Beethoven kept

the instrument as long as he lived. At the sale of his effects it was

bought by Spina, the music publisher, for 181 florins; Spina gave it

to Liszt, in whose house at Weimar it was up to his death. In 1887,

Princess Marie Hohenlohe, daughter of Liszt’s friend, the Princess

Sayn-Wittgenstein, presented it to the National Museum in Buda-Pesth.

The time had come for Beethoven to take his nephew from the home

and institute of the Giannatasios. On January 6 he wrote to inform

the director that Karl would leave his “admirable institute” at the

expiration of the month and that Giannatasio might rest assured of his

and the lad’s life-long gratitude: “I have observed in Karl that he

already feels grateful, and this is a proof that though he is frivolous

he is not malicious, and least of all is he bad at heart. I have hopes

of all manner of good from him, all the more because he has been under

your excellent care for nearly two years.” Karl left the institute on

January 24, and on June 15 Fanny Giannatasio wrote in her diary: “We

hear nothing from Beethoven,” who was then in Mödling.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S UNFITNESS AS GUARDIAN]

Ill-advised and full of evil consequences as was Beethoven’s step in

taking personal charge of his nephew, it was yet creditable to his

heart and bears strong witness to his high sense of duty. His purpose

was pure and lofty, and his action prompted by both love and an ideal

sense of moral obligation. It was a woeful mistake, however; Beethoven

sadly misjudged his fitness to fill the delicate and difficult rôle of

guardian and parent. In all his life he had never had occasion to give

a thought to the duties which such an office involved. In the conduct

of his own affairs he had always permitted himself to be swayed by

momentary impulses, emotions and sometimes violent passions, and he

could not suddenly develop the habits of calm reflection, unimpassioned

judgment and consistent behavior essential to the training of a

careless and wayward boy. In his treatment of him he flew from one

extreme to the other--from almost cruel severity to almost limitless

indulgence, and, for this reason, failed to inspire either respect for

his authority or deep affection for his person, to develop the lad’s

self-control or a desire for virtuous living. Very questionable, too,

if not utterly unpardonable, were the measures which Beethoven took to

separate the boy from his mother in spite of the dying wishes of his

father. We have seen his protestations at times of his unwillingness to

give her pain. When he was cruel in his own confession it was because

he imagined himself constrained to be so by a high obligation of duty.

There can be no doubt that the woman whom Beethoven called “The Queen

of Night” was wicked and vicious, and that his detestation of her was

as well founded as his wish to save his nephew from evil communications

and influences. But there were times when he seemed willing to give

filial instincts their due. “Karl did wrong,” he writes to Madame

Streicher from Mödling in June 1818, “but--mother--mother--even a bad

one remains a mother. To this extent he is to be excused, especially by

me, who know his intriguing, passionate mother too well.” Why did he

not follow this thought to its ultimate conclusion? Why did he permit,

if indeed, he did not encourage, the lad to speak disrespectfully of

his mother? A memorandum in the ~Tagebuch~ after February 20th reads:

“Karl’s mother has not seen him since August 10”--a period of more than

six months. How often she was allowed to see him during the following

months is not of record; we only know from Beethoven himself, in his

letters to Madame Streicher, that the mother’s instinct--if, because

she was a bad woman, the word “love” be not allowed--drove her to

employ the only means by which she could know the condition of her son

during the summer in Mödling--i. e., bribing or feeing the servants.

That at least is Beethoven’s accusation, and exceedingly wroth he

was.[186]

[Sidenote: THE LONDON VISIT POSTPONED]

After taking Karl from Giannatasio’s institute to his own home

Beethoven engaged a tutor to prepare him for matriculation at the

gymnasium. This tutor, whose name has not been learned, was a professor

at the Vienna University and had evidently agreed not only to look

after all of the lad’s intellectual needs but also to have an eye on

some of the domestic affairs and to that end to become a member of

the Beethoven household. On this point, Beethoven enjoined secrecy

upon Madame Streicher. How long the service of his “steward,” as he

playfully called him to Madame Streicher, continued is not known, nor

how satisfactory it was. He does not become a subject of Beethoven’s

correspondence beyond a single reference to the fact that once he staid

out all night. Beethoven’s London trip had been abandoned without

notice or explanation to the Philharmonic Society, apparently; but Ries

must have written to him, renewing the offer previously accepted, for

on March 25, Beethoven writes to his old pupil as follows:

In spite of my desire, it was impossible for me to come to London

this Winter; I beg of you to say to the Philharmonic Society that

my poor state of health hindered me, but I hope that I may be

entirely well this Spring and then take advantage of the renewed

offers of the Society towards the end of the year and fulfil all

its conditions. Please ask Neate in my name not to make use, at

least not in public, of the many compositions of mine which he has

until my arrival in person; no matter what the condition of his

affairs may be I have cause of complaint against him.

Botter [Cipriani Potter] visited me several times, he seems to be

a good man and has talent for composition--I hope and wish that

your prosperity may grow daily; unfortunately I cannot say that

of myself. My unlucky connection with the Archduke has brought

me to the verge of beggary. I cannot endure the sight of want--I

must give; you can imagine how present conditions increase my

sufferings. I beg of you soon to write to me again. If it is at all

possible I shall get away from here sooner in order to escape total

ruin and will then arrive in London in the Winter at the latest.

I know that you will stand by an unfortunate friend; had it only

been in my power, and had I not been fettered by circumstances here

I would surely have done much more for you. Fare you very well,

give my greetings to Neate, Smart, Cramer--although I hear that he

is a counter-subject to you and me, yet I already know something of

the art of treating such and we shall produce an agreeable harmony

in London.

Ries’s reverence for royalty, apparently, led him to omit Beethoven’s

unkind allusion to his august patron and pupil, Archduke Rudolph;

Schindler, writing much later, prints it and admits, very properly, as

we know from other instances of the same kind, that Beethoven sometimes

used his friends as whipping-boys and that his words and deeds were not

always consistent with each other. Beethoven removed to Mödling on May

19, taking with him his nephew and the two servants whose treachery

aroused the storm of passion which he loosed in the long letter to

Madame Streicher, written in June. He found lodgings in the so-called

Hafner House in the Hauptstrasse, now ornamented by a memorial tablet.

He began taking the baths two days after his arrival and the desire

and capacity for work soon returning, he took up energetically the

Pianoforte Sonata in B-flat. Karl was placed in a class of boys taught

by the village priest, named Fröhlich, who dismissed him a month later

for reasons which became a matter of judicial record before the end

of the year.[187] In a document filed as an appendix to Madame van

Beethoven’s application for guardianship over her son, Fröhlich sets

forth that Beethoven had encouraged his nephew to revile his mother,

applauding him when he applied vile epithets to her either in writing

or by shrieking them into his ear, “thus violating the fourth divine

commandment”; that the boy had confessed to him that while he knew that

he was doing wrong he yet defamed his mother to curry favor with his

uncle and dared not tell him the truth because he would only believe

lies. “This he once told his mother and would have said more had he

not feared being found out and maltreated by his uncle.” Once, too,

Beethoven came to him (the priest) and in a tone of malicious joy told

him that his nephew had that day called his mother a “Ravenmother”

(~Rabenmutter~--meaning a wicked and unnatural mother). Karl’s training

being thus contrary to all moral principles, he having also displayed

indifference to religious instruction, been guilty of unruly conduct

in church and in the streets, so that many of the inhabitants of the

village had come to him with complaints, and, therefore, admonitions

to the boy and appeals to the uncle having borne no fruit, he had been

constrained for the sake of his twelve other pupils, who had said “they

did not want to study with the unruly Karl van Beethoven,” to dismiss

him.

[Sidenote: AN ORATORIO FOR THE FRIENDS OF MUSIC]

These unfortunate first-fruits of Beethoven’s error in undertaking

personal and sole care of his nephew will call for more attention

before the history of the year 1818 is closed, and may be dismissed

for the present for more cheerful topics. Towards the end of the year

1815, the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde had instituted inquiries

through Zmeskall touching Beethoven’s willingness to compose a work

of magnitude for the Society. Beethoven signified his assent to the

project and in turn asked Zmeskall whether or not the Society would

allow him 400 ducats as an honorarium. There the matter seems to have

rested until May, 1818, on the 17th of which month Vincenz Hauschka,

a violoncello player and member of the governing committee of the

Society, was authorized by his associates to offer Beethoven from 200

to 300 “pieces of gold” for the music to a “heroic oratorio” to be the

exclusive property of the Society for one year after the date of its

first performance. Hauschka wrote to Beethoven at Mödling and received

a droll letter in reply. It bears no date. In it Beethoven addresses

his friend as “Chief Member of the Society of Enemies of Music [the

play on the words ~Freunde~ and ~Feinde~ is impossible in English], in

the Austrian Empire” and “Grand Cross of the Order of the Violoncello.”

He signifies his willingness to accept the commission in the words: “I

am agreed” (~Ich bin bereit~) set to a fugue-theme:

[Illustration: I am agreed!

Tenore ~etc.~]

adding that he had no subject on hand except a sacred one, while the

Society had expressed a desire for a heroic work. This was satisfactory

to him, but he suggested that as the choir was a large one something

sacred be “mixed in”:

[Illustration: Amen!

~etc.~]

Mr. v. Bernard would suit him as poet, but the Society, since it

claimed to be friendly to music, ought to pay him. He said nothing of

his own compensation, but concluded with:

I wish you open bowels and the handsomest of close-stools. As

for me, I am wandering about here amongst mountains, clefts and

valleys, with a piece of music-paper smearing down many a thing for

the sake of bread and money--for to such a pitch have I brought it

in this all powerful land of the Phæacians that to gain a little

time for a work of magnitude I must always first smear a great deal

for money so that I may hold out for a large work. For the rest, my

health is much better and if haste is necessary I can still serve

you well.

[Illustration: I am agreed! I am agreed! Amen!]

[Sidenote: CONCEPTION OF THE MASS IN D]

Schindler also places this letter in 1818, and is doubtless correct in

so doing, for its tone and contents show that it was not designed as

an official communication to the Society, whose minutes show that such

a communication was not received until June 15, 1819. In the interim,

no doubt, some negotiations were in progress between Beethoven and

Hauschka, for the former had refrained from mentioning the matter of

remuneration. Some understanding on this point must have been reached,

however, for, if Pohl is correct, Beethoven was paid an advance sum

of 400 florins on August 18, 1819. Nothing came of the matter, as we

shall see later. In this year, however, there came to Beethoven an

incitation of a different nature and one productive of lasting and

magnificent results. About the middle of 1818, as Schindler relates,

it became known as a settled fact that Archduke Rudolph had been

appointed Archbishop of Olmütz. March 20th, 1820, was fixed as the day

of his installation. Without bidding, invitation or summons of any

kind Beethoven “resolved to compose a mass for the solemnity, thus

turning again after the lapse of many years to that branch of his art,

toward which, after the symphonic--as he himself often said--he felt

himself most drawn. This resolution shows that his outburst against

the Archduke[188] was merely a passing cloud, even if we did not know

that the master never missed an opportunity to disclose his affection

for his august pupil. I saw the score begun late in the Autumn of

1818, after the gigantic Sonata in B-flat major, Op. 106, had just

been finished.” Though there is no reason for questioning the rest

of Schindler’s statement, the concluding observation is probably

incorrect. It may be accepted, inasmuch as the ~Credo~ of the mass was

already far advanced in 1819, that the ~Kyrie~, at least, perhaps the

~Gloria~, as well, was begun in 1818. The two great works which now

filled the mind of Beethoven, which he wrote, indeed, with his heart’s

blood, were not only dedicated to the Archduke, but were designed for

him from the beginning--facts which may be cited as proof that despite

his petulant outbursts against his pupil and patron he was after all

sincerely devoted to him in his innermost soul.

The same summer saw the beginning of the most widely distributed

portrait of Beethoven. At the instance of his uncle, Baron von

Skrbensky, a young painter named August von Klöber (born at Breslau in

1793), who was continuing his artistic studies in Vienna, undertook to

paint a portrait of the composer. His own account of his acquaintance

with Beethoven and the incidents connected with the painting of the

portrait (or rather with the original sketch) were published in the

“Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung,” of 1864 (p. 324). From it we learn

that the artist was introduced to Beethoven by a letter written by

Dont.[189] He visited Beethoven at Mödling, after receiving permission

to make a drawing of him and found him giving a lesson to his nephew

on the Broadwood pianoforte. This fact fixes the date of the picture.

Though the artist found it impossible to make himself understood

unless he wrote his words or spoke them into an ear-trumpet, Beethoven

corrected the errors in the lad’s playing, compelled him to repeat

passages apparently without difficulty. He grew uneasy after Klöber

had worked about three-quarters of an hour and the latter, heeding the

advice given by Dont, suspended his work and asked permission to come

again on the morrow, since he was living in Mödling. “Then we can meet

often,” said Beethoven, “because I do not like to sit long. You must

take a good look at Mödling, for it is very beautiful here, and, as

an artist, you must be a lover of nature.” Klöber met him often in

his promenades and saw him suspend his work at intervals, stand as if

listening and make notes on music paper which he carried about with

him. When Beethoven saw the picture he was pleased with the treatment

of the hair; the artists had hitherto always made him look too well

groomed. Klöber’s description of the composer as he saw him was this:

Beethoven’s residence in Mödling was extremely simple as, indeed,

was his whole nature; his garments consisted of a light-blue

frockcoat with yellow buttons, white waistcoat and necktie, as was

the fashion at the time, but everything ~negligée~. His complexion

was healthy, the skin somewhat pockmarked, his hair was of the

color of slightly bluish steel as it was already turning from black

to gray. His eyes were bluish-gray and very animated--when his

hair was tossed by the wind there was something Ossianic-demoniac

about him. In friendly converse, however, his expression became

good-natured and gentle, particularly when the conversation pleased

him. Every mood of his soul found powerful expression instantly in

his features.

Klöber’s original painting has disappeared. It was a full-length

portrait with a bit of Mödling landscape as a background. The nephew

Karl was included, reposing under a tree. The composer was depicted

with note-book and pencil. The head only was reproduced in a lithograph

in Klöber’s atelier, and has been widely copied.

[Sidenote: A MOTHER’S STRUGGLE FOR HER CHILD]

We now reach an incident in the story of Beethoven’s life concerning

which much has been written from the biased and frequently erroneous,

because uninformed or ill-informed, point of view adopted by Schindler

and which it becomes a duty to rectify not only so that the picture

of Beethoven as he was may be kept true, but that the better motives

and impulses which prompted the woman whom he so cordially and no

doubt justly detested be placed in their proper light also. There

is nothing in the narrative which brings reproach upon Beethoven so

far as his high sense of duty and disinterested affection for his

nephew is concerned--an affection which was as little weakened by the

self-sacrifice which it entailed as it was balked by the conduct of

his ward and the frequently unwarranted means employed by his mother

to acquire possession of the lad and the right to superintend his

physical, mental and moral training; but the rights of a woman and the

honor which a world has always accorded to the strongest, noblest,

divinest instinct of woman--maternal love--were also at stake. The

mother of Karl, though she had been convicted and punished for adultery

at an earlier period, and though she might not have proved a safe

mentor for her son, was yet a mother, his mother. That fact Beethoven

was willing, in the long letter to Madame Streicher in which he set

forth the wicked acts of his servants, to recognize as palliating the

conduct of the boy; but he could not bring himself to recognize that it

might also palliate if it did not justify the steps which his harshness

compelled a mother to take to gratify the need implanted in her by

nature. Johanna van Beethoven is at least entitled to the same hearing

at the bar of posterity that she received in the tribunals of her day,

and it is the duty of Beethoven’s biographer to strip the story of the

quarrel between her and her brother-in-law of the romantic excrescences

which many writers have fastened upon it. In this narrative the truth

will be told, perhaps for the first time, as it is disclosed by the

documents, the evidence and the judicial decrees in the case. To set

forth these documents in full in the body of the text would call for

the sacrifice of much space and sadly interrupt the story; what is

essential in them will be given literally, or in outline, whenever it

becomes necessary.[190]

After his dismissal from the class of the parish priest at Mödling,

Karl van Beethoven was placed in the hands of a private tutor to be

prepared for admission to one of the public schools of Vienna--no

doubt that known as the Academic Gymnasium. To enter this school the

boy had to pass an examination, and for this purpose Beethoven brought

him to Vienna about the middle of August. Madame van Beethoven was now

determined to wrest from her brother-in-law the authority, which was

his as sole guardian, to keep the boy in his care and to direct his

training. She took to her aid Jacob Hotschevar, a ~Hofconcipist~ (clerk

or scrivener in the government service), and petitioned the ~Landrecht~

of Lower Austria to take from Beethoven the authority to direct the

future training of his ward. The ~Landrecht~ was a tribunal with

jurisdiction in litigations and other matters affecting the nobility.

Acting on the assumption that the Dutch “van,” like the German “von,”

was a badge of noble birth, it had listened to Beethoven’s plea and

appointed him sole guardian of his nephew, removing the widow from

the joint guardianship directed in the will of the boy’s father on

the score of her immorality, as we already know. The proceedings were

begun in September and were dismissed, as the records show, on the

18th of that month. Three days later, that is, on September 21, she

applied to the court again, this time for permission to place her

son in the Royal Imperial Convict, where he would have board, lodging

and instruction. She and Beethoven as “co-guardian” were commanded to

appear in court on September 23, and the latter was directed to bring

the report of the lad’s examination with him. There was a postponement

of the hearing till September 30, and on October 3d the widow’s

application was rejected. Thus far victory had gone to Beethoven.

The postponement of the hearing was had in great likelihood to enable

Beethoven to change his residence from Mödling to the city. At any

rate, Karl is a public school scholar on November 6th, as Fanny

Giannatasio records in her diary on that day together with the fact

that her father had met Beethoven, who had shortly before returned from

the country. That the boy was in the third grammar class and remained

there during the months of November and December, receiving also

instruction in pianoforte playing, French and drawing from a private

teacher, is known from the court proceedings which were held later. The

lad made good progress in his studies, all seemed well and something

of the old cordial relations seemed again to be established between

Beethoven and the Giannatasios. They provided him with a housekeeper

and on one day in November he spent three hours with the family. Fanny

writes:

One cannot be in his company without being impressed with his

admirable character, his deep sense of what is good and noble. If

Karl would but recompense him for the many sacrifices which he

makes for his sake! My hopes are intermingled with anxious doubts.

He will probably make a journey to London this Spring. It might be

advantageous to him financially in many ways.

[Sidenote: THE LAD RUNS AWAY FROM HIS UNCLE]

Before long Beethoven is at the Giannatasio house again and becomes

interested in the singing of the sisters, singing with them, which

produced a comical effect, as he seldom was in tune, but helping them

to give the correct expression to the music. Fanny now deplores that

their childish timidity had so long deprived them of such a pleasure,

which would now perhaps be of short duration, since he had received a

second invitation to England. This entry bears date November 20. Within

a fortnight the diary chronicles the severest trial that the boy had

yet caused his uncle: he ran away from home and sought a haven with his

mother. The sympathetic young woman wrote later:

“One day B. came in great excitement and sought counsel and help

from my father, saying that Karl had run away! I recall that on this

occasion amid our expressions of sympathy he cried out tearfully: ‘He

is ashamed of me!’” The incident is recorded in her diary under date

of December 5; it occurred, apparently two days before. The diarist’s

entry is as follows:

Never in my life shall I forget the moment when he came and told

us that Karl was gone, had run away to his mother, and showed

us his letter as an evidence of his vileness. To see this man

suffering so, to see him ~weeping~--it was touching! Father took

up the matter with great zeal, and with all my sorrow I feel a

pleasurable sensation in the consciousness that now we are ~much~

to Beethoven, yes, at this moment his only refuge. Now he surely

perceives his error if he has wronged us in his opinions. Ah! he

can never appreciate how highly we esteem him, how much I should be

capable of doing for his happiness!... The naughty child is again

with him with the help of the police--the Ravenmother! Oh! how

dreadful it is that this man is compelled to suffer so on account

of such outcasts. He must go away from here, or she; that will be

the outcome. For the present B. will give him into our care; it

will be an act of great kindness on my father’s part if he receives

him, as he will have to look upon him as one under arrest.... It

did me good when he went away to note that his thoughts were more

diverted. He told me that he had been so wrought up by the matter

that it took him some time to gather his thoughts. During the night

his heart had beat audibly. Alas! and there remains nothing for me

to say except that all that we can do is so little! I would give

half my life for the man! He always thinks of himself last. He

lamented that he did not know what would become of his housekeeping

when Karl was gone.

We learn the probable reason for the lad’s truancy from Beethoven’s

statement at the examination in court on December 11th. Two letters

written by his housekeeper to Fanny Giannatasio, and one written by the

latter, had fallen into Beethoven’s hands and from them he had learned

of certain delinquencies with which he then confronted his nephew. But

let us call Beethoven himself to the witness stand; his recital will

give more vitality to the history than any statement of a historian

writing nearly a century later. We quote from the minutes of the

~Landrecht~:

Ludwig van Beethoven examined:

How did his nephew leave him?

He did not know exactly; his nephew had made himself culpable; he

had charged him with it and the same day in the evening he had

received a note of farewell. He could not tell the cause of his

departure; his mother may have asked him to come to her the day

before, but it might have been fear of punishment.

What had his nephew done?

He had a housekeeper who had been recommended to him by

Giannatasio; two of her letters to Miss Giannatasio and one of the

latter’s had fallen into his hands; in them it was stated that his

nephew had called the servants abusive names, had withheld money

and spent it on sweetmeats.

In whose care was his nephew?

He had provided him with a ~Corepetitor~ for pianoforte playing,

French and drawing who came to the house; these studies occupied

all the leisure time of his nephew so completely that he needed

no care; moreover, he could not trust any of his servants with

the oversight of his nephew, as they had been bribed by the

boy’s mother; he had placed him in the hands of a priest for the

development of his musical talent, but the mother had got into an

agreement with him also. He would place his ward in the Convict,

but the oversight was not strict enough there among so many pupils.

Did he have any testimonials touching his nephew’s studies?

He had appended them to his last examination.

Had his nephew not spoken disrespectfully of his mother in his

presence?

No; besides, he had admonished him to speak nothing but the truth;

he had asked his nephew if he was fond of his mother and he

answered in the negative.

How did he get the boy back?

With the help of the police. He had gone to the mother in the

forenoon to demand him of her, but she would promise nothing except

that she would deliver him back in the evening; he had feared that

she intended to take him to Linz, where his brother lived, or to

Hungary; for that reason he had gone to the police; as soon as he

got him back he placed him in the care of Giannatasio.

What were his objections to having his nephew sent to the Convict?

It was not advisable at present because, as the professor had said,

there were too many pupils there and the supervision over a boy

like his ward was not adequate.

What means did he purpose to employ in the education of his ward?

His ward’s greatest talent was in study and to this he would be

held. His means of subsistence were the half of his mother’s

pension and the interest on 2,000 florins. Heretofore the

difference between this sum and the cost had been paid by him and

he was willing to assume it in the future if the matter could but

once be put in order. As it was not practicable to place his nephew

in the Convict now, he knew only of two courses open to him: to

keep a steward for him who should always be with him, or to send

him for the winter to Giannatasio. After half a year he would send

him to the Mölker Convict, which he had heard highly commended, or

if he were but of noble birth, give him to the Theresianum.

Were he and his brother of the nobility and did he have documents

to prove it?

“Van” was a Dutch predicate which was not exclusively applied to

the nobility; he had neither a diploma nor any other proof of his

nobility.

[Sidenote: THE MOTHER’S APPREHENSIONS]

In listening to these words from Beethoven on the witness stand we have

stretched the thread of our story; for this testimony was given in

court on December 11th, and the second attempt of the widowed mother to

get control of her son had been foiled by the decision on October 3rd.

It was therefore a new case which the court had under consideration

when Beethoven made the above utterances. This third application on

the part of the mother was filed on December 7, and grew out of the

runaway prank of Karl and her fear of what might be its consequences.

In her petition she set forth the fact that her son had left the home

of his uncle and guardian without her knowledge, that he had been taken

back by the police, and that “as, to judge by his actions, Ludwig van

Beethoven was willing to send her son away from Vienna, perhaps into

foreign lands,” she asked that he be restrained from doing so, and she

renewed her request that she be permitted to send her son to the Royal

Imperial Convict for keep and education.

Hotschevar supported this petition in a document like a modern law

brief, explaining his interest in the matter on the grounds that his

wife was a stepsister of Madame van Beethoven’s deceased mother,

that the law permitted such an act in all cases where human rights

were concerned and that he, having had experience for several years

as instructor in the houses of the aristocracy, could not be blamed

if he put the knowledge of pedagogics and psychology thus acquired

at the service of a lad to whom he bore a family relationship and

brought to the attention of the supreme guardian matters which it

(the ~Landrecht~) could not possibly know concerning its wards unless

proceedings were brought before it. He admitted that Madame van

Beethoven had years before been guilty of a moral delinquency for which

she had been punished, but asserted her right to a standing in court;

he then contended: (1) that the mother had illegally been denied all

influence over her son partly with, partly without the knowledge of the

court, and (2) that her son could not remain under the sole influence

of his uncle and guardian without danger of suffering physical and

moral ruin. In support of these contentions he recited that the

brothers van Beethoven were eccentric men, so often at odds with each

other that they might better be called enemies than friends, Karl van

Beethoven being pleasantly disposed toward his brother only when he was

in need of money from him, and that the suspicion lay near that the boy

had been an object of traffic between them, inasmuch as an agreement

touching the payment of 1,500 florins had been made only on condition

that Ludwig van Beethoven surrender a document which appointed him

guardian. Karl van Beethoven, moreover, knowing the animosity which his

brother felt towards his wife, had in a codicil to his will expressly

said that he did not want Ludwig van Beethoven to be sole guardian of

his son but joint guardian with the mother, and had, for the sake of

the boy, admonished more compliancy on the part of the mother and more

moderation on that of the brother. Although the Court had deprived

the mother of the guardianship over her son, it had granted permission

to her to visit him; but this privilege had been withheld from her.

The statement of the village priest Fröhlich (which has already been

given in these pages) was appended to the widow’s application as

evidence of the physical and moral degeneration of the boy, and for

himself Hotschevar says that he had observed after the boy had run

away from his uncle that his hands and feet were frostbitten, that

he had no seasonable clothing and that his linen and baths had been

neglected. The priest’s statement was also appealed to to show that the

boy had been led into unfilial conduct, indifference toward religion,

hypocrisy, untruthfulness and even theft against his guardian--in

short, was in danger of becoming a menace to society. He willingly

granted Beethoven’s readiness and desire to care for his ward, but

maintained that his hatred of the mother, his passionate disposition

inflamed by the talebearing of others (once naming Giannatasio), made

it difficult for him to employ the proper means. Conceding Beethoven’s

magnanimity, he yet urged that in view of the danger in which the lad

was, he ought to forgo the guardianship or associate with himself

either the mother or some other capable person, it appearing from the

facts in the case that he was “physically and morally unfit” for the

post.

Madame van Beethoven’s deposition, apparently filed as appendix to

Hotschevar’s brief (like that of Fröhlich), alleges that a letter of

Giannatasio’s dated March 8, 1816, showed that she had to forgo her

desire to visit her son or satisfy it once a month and then “like

a thief.” After Beethoven took the boy, and especially after his

removal to Mödling, she was not permitted to see him at all. She had

been assured that her son would be admitted to the Convict, but his

testimonials had been withheld from her and so she had been unable to

file them with her application for a scholarship. His expenses were 750

florins per year for board, lodging, clothes, books, medicines, etc.,

to pay which 2,000 florins had been deposited in Court and yielded 100

florins interest per annum. She had pledged herself to give one-half

of her pension of 333 florins, 20, that is 116 florins, 40 kreutzers

towards his education. This amounted to 380 florins W. W., including

the interest on the deposit; and she would gladly pay the difference

between this sum and 750 florins until she should get the promised

scholarship for her son. On December 11, the widow appealed to the

court that in case the guardian of her son should make application

touching plans for his future training it be not granted without giving

her a hearing. This was the day when Beethoven, who had brought Joseph

Carl Bernard with him, no doubt to protect him in his deafness, gave

the testimony already set forth. The nephew had been examined before

him:

[Sidenote: THE TESTIMONY OF MOTHER AND SON]

Carl van Bethoven [~sic~] age 12 years, student in the 3rd Latin

class, was examined:

Had he received good testimonials?

“Eminent” in Latin, “1st class” in other studies.

Why had he left his uncle?

Because his mother had told him she would send him to a public

school and he did not think he would make progress under private

instruction.

How did his uncle treat him?

Well.

Where had he been of late?

He had been in hiding at his mother’s.

Where would he rather live--at his mother’s or his uncle’s?

He would like to live at his uncle’s if he but had a companion, as

his uncle was hard of hearing and he could not talk with him.

Had he been prompted by his mother to leave his uncle?

No.

When did he leave him?

Eight days ago.

How could he say that he could not succeed under private

instruction when he had made such good progress?

This had been the case since he had studied in public; before that

he had received 2nd class in mathematics and had not made it up.

Had his mother commanded him to return to his uncle?

She had wanted to take him back to him herself, but he had resisted

because he feared maltreatment.

Had his uncle maltreated him?

He had punished him, but only when he deserved it; he had been

maltreated only once, and that after his return, when his uncle

threatened to throttle him.

How long had he been with his mother?

Two days.

Who had given him instruction in religion?

The same teacher who taught him other subjects, formerly the priest

at Mödling, who was not kindly disposed towards him because he did

not behave himself in the street and babbled (or talked) in school.

Had he indulged in disrespectful remarks about his mother?

Yes; and in the presence of his uncle, whom he thought he would

please in that way and who had agreed with him.

Was he often alone?

When his uncle was not at home he was left wholly alone.

Had his uncle admonished him to pray?

Yes; he prayed with him every morning and evening.

* * * * *

Johanna van Beethoven examined:

How did her son come to her from the house of his guardian?

He had come to her in the evening for fear of punishment and

because he did not like to live with his uncle.

Had she advised him to return to his uncle?

Yes; but her son did not want to do so because he feared

maltreatment.

It looked as if she had concealed her son?

She had written to her brother-in-law that she would send her son

back to him, but she had not seen him for a long time and was

therefore glad to have him with her for awhile, and for this reason

she had not sent him back at once.

Had she been forbidden to see her son?

Her wish to do so had been frustrated by telling her of different

places where she might see him, but when she went to the places he

was not there.

Had her son been taken from her by the police?

She had herself taken him to the police at 4 o’clock.

How did she learn of the plan to send her son out of the country?

Giannatasio had disclosed the project to the police.

Did she consider that her son had been well treated at his uncle’s?

She thought it unsuitable for the reasons given in her former

application. She wished to say in particular that v. Beethoven had

only one servant and that one could not rely on servants; he was

deaf and could not converse with his ward; there was nobody to look

after the wants of her son satisfactorily; his cleanliness was

neglected and supervision of his clothing and washing; persons who

had brought him clean linen had been turned back by his guardian.

What prospects had she for caring for her son?

She had previously had the assurance of Count von Dietrichstein

that her son would be accepted at the Convict; she had not been to

him since because her application [to the Court] had been rejected.

In whose presence had her son spoken disrespectfully of her?

She had not herself heard him do so, nor could she mention the

names of persons who had heard him.

From what source would she meet the deficiency in her income which

would have to be applied to the support of her son?

She had no fortune herself but the Hofconcipist Hotschevar would

defray the expenses.

Was her husband of noble birth?

So the brothers had said; the documentary proof of nobility was

said to be in the possession of the oldest brother, the composer.

At the legal hearing on the death of her husband, proofs of

nobility had been demanded; she herself had no document bearing on

the subject.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN NOT OF NOBLE BIRTH]

The testimony of the widow, like that of her son, was taken before

Beethoven had been examined and the answer to the final question,

no doubt, raised a doubt in the mind of the court touching its

jurisdiction; hence the question concerning his birth put to Beethoven.

His answer that “van” was a Dutch predicate not confined to the

nobility and that he had no proof of noble birth, is all that the

minutes of the court show bearing on this question. It led to the

~Landrecht’s~ sending the proceedings to the Vienna Magistracy on

December 18; this action cut Beethoven to the quick, but the record as

here produced also gives a blow, perhaps a fatal one, to one of the

pretty romances to which a statement of Schindler’s gave currency.

The world knows the story: Doubt having arisen in the mind of the

court touching Beethoven’s nobility, he was called upon to produce

documentary proof. “At the appointed time he appeared before the

tribunal in person and exclaimed: ‘~My nobility is here and here~,’

pointing to his head and his heart.” But the court would not accept

the proof. It is a pity to lose the story, but it must be relegated

to the limbo of fiction unless it shall appear that Beethoven made

the remark and the clerk refused to record it; and who shall now

prove this? Schindler’s insinuation that the reference of the case

to the Magistracy had been planned as a move by the widow’s advocate

to get the case into a more pliant tribunal is made questionable by

the circumstances that it was she who insisted upon the noble birth

of the Beethovens and Beethoven who gave the claim a quietus by his

straightforward and incontestable answer. It remains a mystery, if she

spoke the truth when she said that proof of nobility had been demanded

at the probate of the will of her husband, how the case ever got into

the ~Landrecht~. As a matter of fact, it deserves to be mentioned,

however, that, as later events showed, the lower court espoused the

cause of Madame van Beethoven with something like the zeal of an

advocate.

Schindler’s comments on the effect of the reference of the case to the

Civic Magistrates demand a moment’s attention. Schindler says:

The transfer of the case to the Magistracy was felt as an

overwhelming blow by Beethoven. It would be difficult to maintain

that Beethoven attached importance to appearing in the public eye

as of noble birth, his origin as well as family conditions being

well known--especially the latter by reason of the humble social

position of his brothers. But it is certain that he laid great

weight upon having his lawsuit adjudicated by the exceptional

upper court, partly because as a matter of fact there was in

that tribunal a better appreciation of his importance, partly

because the lower court had an unfavorable reputation which could

not inspire in him a hope for the desired outcome.[191] But

nevertheless it may be said as sure that neither his genius nor

his works of art would have given him the privileged position which

he occupied in the circles of the nobility had there not been a

presumption that he was an equal. This was variously demonstrated

as soon as the occurrence in the aristocratic court became known to

the public. Not in the middle classes, but in the upper, the little

word “van” had exercised a palpable charm. It is a settled fact

that after the incident in the Lower Austrian ~Landrecht~ the great

city of Vienna became too small for our aggrieved master, and had

he not been restrained by his sense of duty which was placed upon

him by his brother’s will, the projected journey to England would

have been undertaken and his sojourn there perhaps become permanent.

It is also certain that Schindler was not as well informed as he ought

to have been in the premises and that his memory often left him in the

lurch, as we have frequently seen already and shall see again. Not

exact knowledge but an amiable bias in favor of his hero speaks out

of his recital. It is scarcely conceivable that Beethoven should have

cherished the thought that possibly he was of noble birth or that he

seriously encouraged such a belief among his exalted friends.

The nephew’s stay at Giannatasio’s was not of long duration and

the signs of an imminent disruption of a beautiful and profitable

friendship soon showed themselves, though for the nonce amiable

relations between Beethoven and the Giannatasio family were continued.

Yet Fanny saw her lovely illusions melting away. It had been agreed

that Karl should not associate with the other pupils at the institute.

Willing, perhaps desirous at first, that such an arrangement should be

made, it seems that Beethoven felt his ~amour propre~ hurt by it as

soon as the first fit of resentment against the lad gave way before

one of his tender moods; now there ensued one of the old fits of

moroseness, dissatisfaction and suspicion. He wrote to Giannatasio that

Karl’s room should be better heated--that he had never had frostbitten

hands and feet when living with him;[192] moreover, too much importance

was being attached to his act, and the consequences to the delinquent

were being carried too far. In her diary under date December 14, Fanny

deplores that Beethoven’s moodiness, and weakness for the lad, had

taken possession of him again and induced him to believe “the liar”

rather than his tried friends; she concludes with the lamentation that

it will never be possible to gain Beethoven’s entire confidence; she

has grievous forebodings as to the outcome.

[Sidenote: WORK UPON THREE MASTERPIECES]

Let the rest of the year’s history be devoted to Beethoven’s creative

work. Considering the revival of interest and desire on the part of

the composer, the net result, measured by finished products, was

not as large as might have been expected. Two explanations for this

circumstances may be offered: the first lies in his domestic miseries

and the frame of mind in which they kept him for long stretches at a

time--that is obvious; the second may be read in his compositions. He

was growing more and more prone to reflection, to moody speculation;

his mental processes, if not slower than before, were more protracted,

and also more profound, and they were occupied with works of tremendous

magnitude. The year produced sketches and partial developments of the

Sonata in B-flat, the Symphony in D minor and the great Mass in D. The

Sonata, so two sketchbooks carefully analyzed by Nottebohm show, was

begun in 1817, and occupied much of the composer’s time during the

summer of 1818, notes showing that he worked upon it in his walks about

Mödling and in the Brühl valley. Notes of an announcement of a sale

of carriages and of a house for rent, taken from a Vienna newspaper

(probably in some inn), show that his thoughts were on the London visit

and another of his frequent changes of residence. In April the Sonata

was so far advanced that he could write to Archduke Rudolph that on

his name-day (April 17) he had written out the first two movements

in a fair copy, but this does not necessarily mean that the pieces

had received their definitive shape. Among the sketches for the last

movement there is an outline for a pianoforte piece in B-flat which,

according to an inscription upon the autograph, was composed on the

afternoon of August 14.[193] Plainly he was already at work on the

finale before the end of 1818, and there is no reason for questioning

Schindler’s correctness when he says that the Sonata was finished late

in the fall when he took up the “Missa Solemnis.” Czerny played it in

Beethoven’s presence in the spring of 1819, and it was in London ready

for the engraver in April of that year.

Nottebohm, believing that the letter in which Beethoven informed

the Archduke that he had written out the first two movements on his

name-day could not refer to April 17, 1818, placed both incident and

letter in the year following.[194] But, as has been said, it does not

at all follow from Beethoven’s remark that the two movements were in

a finished state;[195] the reference may have gone only to the first

elaboration of the sketches. The “latest happening” to the Archduke

was, probably, his elevation to the archbishopric of Olmütz, which

occurred on June 4, 1819; but this was merely the formal execution

of a purpose which had long been known in anticipation. Nottebohm’s

contention for the name-day of 1819, is untenable for the reason that

on April 17 of that year the Sonata had been so long in London that,

as Ries says, it was already engraved when he received a note dated

April 16, 1819, giving metronomic indications for all the movements

and prefixing the ~Adagio~ with its present first measure.[196] This

note must have been preceded by the one erroneously dated April 30;

erroneously, because it promises the metronome marks; and this letter

again by a still earlier one, mentioning the Sonata as ready for

publication. This letter, which Ries does not even mention, is as

follows:[197]

Dear Ries:

I am just recovering from a severe attack and am going into the

country--I wish you would try to dispose of the following 2 works,

a grand solo sonata for pianoforte and a pianoforte sonata which

I have myself arranged for 2 violins, 2 violas, 1 violoncello,

to a publisher in London. It ought to be easy for you to get 50

ducats in gold for the two works, the publisher would only have

to announce at what time he intended to publish the two works and

I could publish them here at the same time, which would yield me

more than if I published them here only. I might also publish a new

Trio for pianoforte, violin and violoncello, if you were to find a

publisher for it.[198] I have never done anything unlawful and you

can take up this matter in London without injury to your honor or

mine. The publisher on receiving the works is to inform me when he

intends to publish them and then they shall appear here. Pardon me

if I am giving you trouble; my condition is such that I am obliged

to turn everywhere to make a pitiful livelihood--Potter says that

Chaphell in Bond Street is one of the best publishers; I leave

everything to you only begging you to answer as soon as possible so

that the works may not lie idle on my hands. I beg of Neate not to

make known the many works of mine which he carried with him until I

myself come to London which I hope surely to do next winter--I must

unless I wish to become a beggar here. Say all things beautiful to

the Phil. Society--I shall soon write you about various things and

beg you again to answer soon. As ever your true friend

Beethoven.

Many lovely greetings to your lovely wife.

N. B. If you can get more, all the better. It ought to be

possible!!!

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN DEFENDS SOME OVERTURES]

The letters printed in the “Notizen” ought to be read in connection

with this; we give the first and refer the reader to Ries, or the

collections, for the others:

Vienna, 30 April (March). 1819.

My dear Ries:

It is only now that I can answer your last of December 18th. Your

sympathy does me good. At present it is impossible for me to come

to London owing to a net of circumstances in which I am involved;

but God will help me surely to get to London next winter when I

shall also bring the new symphonies with me. I am expecting soon

to get the text for a new oratorio which I am writing for the

Musical Society here and which may serve us also in London. Do

everything for me that you can; for I need it. Commissions from

the Philharmonic Society would have been very welcome; the reports

which Neate sent me about the near failure of the three overtures

were vexing to me; each one of them not only pleased here each in

its way but those in E-flat and C major made a great impression.

The fate of these compositions with the p. S. is incomprehensible

to me. You will have before now received the arranged quintet and

the sonata. See to it that both works especially the quintet, are

engraved at once. More leisure may be taken with the sonata but I

should like to have it published inside of two months, or three

at the latest. Your earlier letter referred to I did not receive;

wherefore I had no hesitation in selling both works here--but that

is only for Germany. Moreover it will be three months also before

the sonata will appear here; but make haste with the Quintet. So

soon as the draft for the money is received here I will send a

writing for the publisher as proprietor of these works in England,

Scotland, Ireland, France, etc.

You shall receive the tempos for the sonata according to Mälzel’s

metronome by the next post. De Smidt, Courier of Prince Esterhazy,

has taken the Quintet and Sonata with him. At the next opportunity

you will also receive my portrait, since I hear that you really

want it.

Farewell, keep me in your affections.

Your friend,

Beethoven.

Say all beautiful things to your beautiful wife for me!!!!!

The Sonata was sold to Artaria in Vienna for 100 ducats. The publisher

sent the proofs to Beethoven on July 24, and announced it as “marking

a new period in Beethoven’s pianoforte works” in the “Wiener Zeitung”

of September 15, 1819. It appeared under the title: “Grosse Sonate

für das Hammerklavier Seiner Kais. Königl. Hoheit und Eminenz,

dem Durchlauchtigsten Hochwürdigsten Herrn Erzherzog Rudolph von

Österreich Cardinal und Erzbischoff von Olmütz, etc., etc., etc.,

in tiefster Ehrfurcht gewidmet von Ludwig van Beethoven, Op. 106.”

Soon after its publication (on October 1st), Beethoven in a jocose

letter asked for six copies of the Sonata and six of the Variations on

Scottish Songs. Beethoven informed Ries of the publication in a letter

printed in the “Notizen” and wanted to send him a copy to aid him in

correcting the English edition, which was not ready. The Sonata Op.

106 was, therefore, the chief product of the year 1818. Beethoven told

Czerny that it was to be his greatest; and so it is, not only in its

dimensions but also in its contents. “The Sonata was composed under

distressful circumstances,” said Beethoven in a letter to Ries (April

19, 1819), “for it is hard to write almost for the sake of bread alone,

and to this pass I have come.”

Simultaneously with the Sonata, Beethoven was at work on the Ninth

Symphony during a large portion of the year, but these labors were

suspended when his mind became engrossed with the great Mass which

was to be a tribute to his pupil, Archduke Rudolph, about to be

invested with eminent ecclesiastical dignities. Not alone the Ninth

Symphony, a Tenth also was before his fancy, but with neither of them

had Schiller’s “Ode to Joy” been brought into association, though the

employment of the human voice in one or the other was already under

consideration. Schindler records that he saw a beginning made on the

score of the Mass in D “late in the fall of 1818”; how far he had

proceeded in the work by the end of the year cannot be determined

from the sketches which have been discovered up to the present time.

It is safe to assume, however, that the ~Kyrie~ was fully sketched

and fixed in outline, and, as he worked pretty continuously on the

~Credo~ throughout 1819, it seems likely that the ~Gloria~ had also been

begun in the year immediately preceding. Notes in the ~Tagebuch~ and

sketchbooks which, to judge by their context, were written during the

summer sojourn in Mödling show the trend of Beethoven’s thoughts on

religious subjects and may be naturally associated with the Mass. Thus

(in the ~Tagebuch~):

In order to write true church music ... look through all the

monastic church chorals and also the strophes in the most correct

translations and perfect prosody in all Christian-Catholic psalms

and hymns generally.

Sacrifice again all the pettinesses of social life to your art. O

God above all things! For it is an eternal providence which directs

omnisciently the good and evil fortunes of human men.

Short is the life of man, and whoso bears

A cruel heart, devising cruel things,

On him men call down evil from the gods

While living, and pursue him, when he dies.

With cruel scoffs. But whoso is of generous heart

And harbors generous aims, his guests proclaim

His praises far and wide to all mankind,

And numberless are they who call him good.

--~Homer.~

Tranquilly will I submit myself to all vicissitudes and place my

sole confidence in Thy unalterable goodness, O God! My soul shall

rejoice in Thy immutable servant. Be my rock, my light, forever my

trust!

Among the sketches for the Sonata in B-flat are memoranda of vocal

pieces which came into his mind during his wanderings in the environs

of Mödling. Goethe’s “Haidenröslein,” to which his mind several times

turned, occupied him again. His spiritual exaltation finds expression

in fragments which he notes as “written while walking in the evening

between and on the mountains,” among them this: [Illustration: Gott

allein ist unser Herr. Er allein (God alone is God our Lord. He alone)]

[Sidenote: GREAT WORKS AND POTBOILERS]

The remark made in the letter to Hauschka that he was compelled to do

a lot of scribbling (or “smearing,” as he expressed it) for the sake

of money in order to procure leisure for great works may be explained

by the fact that he was engaged upon the arrangement of folksongs for

Thomson, which were published in Thomson’s Vol. VI, as well, possibly,

as those contained in the subsequent octavo edition of 1822-24. The

pianoforte piece in B-flat, published by Schlesinger in Berlin under

the title “Dernière pensée musicale,” of which mention has already been

made, was no doubt a potboiler. With the folksongs must be associated

the Variations for Pianoforte alone, or Pianoforte and Flute (or

Violin), which he wrote in this and the following year and which were

published as Op. 105 and 107. The suggestion had come from Birchall;

but Beethoven’s demands for an honorarium was thought too large by

the English publisher, and though Beethoven modified them, nothing

came of the project at the time. On February 21, 1818, Beethoven

offered Thomson twelve “overtures” (in the sense of introductions, or

preludes, no doubt) for 140 ducats, and twelve Themes and Variations

for 100 ducats, both lots for 224 ducats. The Themes and Variations

were accepted and published by Thomson. Beethoven composed sixteen

Themes and Variations on folksong material in all; six of them were

published by Artaria in Vienna (Op. 105) and the other ten by Simrock

in Bonn (Op. 107).

Little is to be added to what has been said about the works published

in 1818. Thomson’s Vol. V, the settings for which had been made

earlier, was published on June 1, Thomson’s announcement in the preface

reading: “On the first of June, 1818, was published by George Thomson,

Nr. 3, Royal Exchange, Edinburgh, and by T. Preston, 97 Strand,

London, the fifth Volume of Select Scottish Melodies with Symphonies

and Accompaniments to each Melody for the Pianoforte, Violin and

Violoncello, composed by Haydn and Beethoven.” Four of the settings are

by Haydn; the rest by Beethoven. The song “Resignation” was published

on March 31, as supplement of the Vienna “Modezeitung.”

END OF VOLUME II

FOOTNOTES:

[185] Beethoven does not seem always to have maintained so reverential

a feeling for the instrument as is indicated by the above statement.

In Thayer’s note-book the American editor of this biography found this

anecdote: “Once Beethoven told Stein that some strings in his Broadwood

Pf. were wanting, and caught up the bootjack and struck the keys with

it to show.”

[186] We have contented ourselves with mere references to Beethoven’s

letters to Madame Streicher in this period. They are mostly brief notes

monotonously asking help in domestic affairs, and, though frequently

interesting because of their exhibition of characteristic traits and

moods, too insignificant to justify the cumbering of these pages with

their literal contents. Those who wish to do so can read them in any

of the German collections of Beethoven’s letters or in the English

translation by Shedlock. But Kalischer’s notes and dates and sometimes

Mr. Shedlock’s translation ought to be critically scrutinized. The

letter referred to above, however, deserves to be given in full.

“Best Madame von Streicher!

“It was not possible to reply to your last letter sooner. I would

have written to you a few days ago when the servants were sent

away, but hesitated in my determination until I learned that it was

Frau D. in particular who hindered Karl to make full confession.

“~He ought to spare his mother~,” she told him; and Peppi

coöperated with her; naturally they did not want to be discovered;

they worked together shamefully and permitted themselves to be

used by Frau v. Beethoven; both received coffee and sugar from

her, Peppi ~money~ and the ~old one~ probably also; for there can

be no doubt that she was ~herself at the house of Karl’s mother~;

she said to Karl that ~if I drove her away~ from my ~service she

would go straight to his mother~. This happened at a time when I

had reproved her for her conduct with which I had frequent occasion

to be dissatisfied; Peppi who often played the eavesdropper when I

spoke with Karl appears to have tried to tell the truth, but the

old one ~accused her of stupidity and scolded her stoutly~--and so

she remained silent and tried to throw me off the trail. The story

of this abominable deception may have lasted about six weeks--they

would not have got off so easy with a less magnanimous man. Peppi

borrowed 9 or 10 florins for stuff for shirts and I afterwards made

her a present of the money and instead of 60 she got 70 florins;

she might have denied herself these wretched bribes. In the case

of the old woman, who was always the worse, hate may have played

a part as she always thought herself neglected (although she got

more than she deserved) for the ~scornful smile on her face~ one

day when Karl embraced me, made me ~suspect treachery~ and how

shameless and deceitful such an old woman could be. Just imagine,

2 days before I came here K. went to his mother one afternoon

without my knowledge and both the old woman and P. knew it. But

now listen to the triumph of a hoary-headed traitress; on the way

hither with K. and her, I spoke with K. about the matter in the

carriage, although I did not know all, and when I expressed the

fear that we should not be safe in Mödling, she exclaimed “I should

only rely upon her.” O the infamy of it! This was only the 2nd time

in the case of a person of such venerable age that ~such a thing~

happened to me. A few days before I sent both away I had told

them in writing that under no circumstances were they to accept

anything for Karl from his mother. Instead of repenting, Peppi

tried secretly to take revenge on Karl, after he had confessed all

which they knew from the fact that in writing, I had said that

~all had been~ discovered--I expected that they would both beg

my pardon after this, instead of which they played me one wicked

trick after the other. As no betterment was to be expected in such

obstinate sinners and I had every moment to fear another piece of

treachery, I decided to sacrifice my body, my comfort to better

self, my poor, misguided Karl and out of the house they went as a

~warning example~ to all those who may come after. I might have

made their certificates of character a little less favorable; I

set down the time of service of each at full six months although

it was not true. I never practise ~vengeance~; in cases where I

~oppose~ myself to other people, I never do more ~against~ them

than is necessary to protect myself against them or to prevent them

from doing further harm. On account of Peppi’s honesty in general I

am sorry to have lost her for which reason I made her certificate

more favorable than that of the old woman, and she appears to have

been led astray by the old woman but that P.’s conscience was not

at ease she showed by saying to Karl that ~“she did not dare go

back to her parents,” and, in fact I believe she is still here~--I

had suspected treachery for a long time until one evening before

my departure I received an anonymous letter the contents of which

filled me with dread; but they were only suspicions. Karl, whom I

took to task at once in the evening confessed but not all. As I

often treat him harshly and not without cause, he was too greatly

afraid to admit everything at once. In the midst of the struggle

we reached here. As I often questioned him, the servants noticed

it and the old woman in particular tried to persuade him not to

admit the truth. But when I gave Karl my sacred assurance that

all would be forgiven if he would but confess the truth, while

lying would plunge him into a deeper abyss than that in which he

already was, everything came to the light of day--add to this the

other data which I gave you before concerning the servants and you

will have the shameful story of the two traitresses clearly before

you. K. did wrong, but--mother--mother--even a bad one remains a

mother. To this extent he is to be excused, particularly by me

who know his intriguing, passionate mother ~too well~. The priest

here knows already that I know about him for K. had already told

me. It is likely that he was not fully informed and that he will

be careful; but to guard against K.’s being mistreated by him,

since he appears to be rather a rude man, the matter may rest for

the nonce. But as K.’s virtue was put to the test for there is no

virtue without temptation, I purposely pass the matter by until

it happens again (which I do not expect) in which case I will so

bethwack his reverence with such spiritual cudgels, amulets with my

sole guardianship and consequent privileges that the whole parish

will shake. My heart has been terribly shaken up by this affair and

I can scarcely recover myself. Now to my housekeeping; it needs

your help; how necessary it is to us you already know; do not be

frightened away, such a thing might happen anywhere, but if it has

once happened and one is in a position to hold it up to one’s new

servants, it is not likely that it will occur again. You know what

we need--perhaps the French woman, and whatever can be found in the

way of a chambermaid, good cooking remains the principal thing,

even in the matter of economy, for the present we have a person

who cooks for us, but badly. I cannot write you more to-day, you

will perceive that in ~this matter~ I could not act differently;

it had gone too far. I do not yet invite you to visit me here for

everything is still in confusion; nevertheless ~it will not be

necessary to send me to a lunatic asylum~. I can say that I already

suffered from this thing fearfully while I was yet in Vienna,

though I kept silent. Farewell; do not make anything of this known

as some one might think prejudicially of K.; only I who know all

the driving wheels here can testify for him that he was terribly

misled. I beg of you soon to write us something comforting,

touching the art of cooking, washing and sewing.

“I am very ill and in need of a stomach restorative.

“Mödling, June 18 (10?), 1818.”

[187] It was this priest, evidently, against whom Beethoven threatened

to launch the thunderbolts of his wrath so as to shake the earth in a

certain event, as he told Madame Streicher.

[188] In the letter to Ries.

[189] Evidently Joseph Valentine, a violoncello player, father of Jacob

Dont, the violinist, chiefly famous as a teacher of his instrument in

Vienna.

[190] Mr. Thayer made or procured transcripts of the records of

the tribunals in which the struggle for the possession of Karl van

Beethoven were made. Students whose curiosity is not satisfied by these

pages are referred to Appendix III of Vol. IV of the German edition of

this biography.

[191] In one of the Conversation Books used by Beethoven in 1820,

there occurs this remark in Beethoven’s handwriting: “... when it

learned that my brother was not of the nobility. It is singular, so

far as I know, that there is a hiatus here which ought to be filled,

for my nature shows that I do not belong among these ~plebs~”; and,

in February, 1820, when Peters had observed his dissatisfaction:

“The common citizen should be excluded from higher men, and I have

gotten ~amongst them~.” “In three weeks,” Peters wrote, he would have

nothing to do with citizens and magistracy. He would yet be asked for

assistance and receive the most favorable report concerning his appeal.

Not long afterward the Appellate Court brought in its decision in his

favor in the guardianship matter.

[192] Hotschevar’s accusation was evidently rankling in his breast.

[193] It is the short piece in B-flat published as a supplement to the

Berlin “Allgem. Musik. Zeit.” on December 8, 1824, under the title

“Dernière pensée musicale.” Beethoven’s autograph inscription runs:

“Auf Aufforderung geschrieben Nachmittags am 14. August 1818, von

Beethoven.” “Letzter musikalischer Gedanke.”

[194] Beethoven had written: “To the two pieces which I wrote down on

the name-day of Y. R. H., two others have been added, the last of which

is a large Fugato, so that the whole constitutes a grand sonata which

will soon be published and long ago ~in my heart~ was designed for you;

~the latest happening to Y. R. H., is not in the least responsible for

this~.”

[195] Nor even, as Thayer opined, that they had been delivered in

manuscript to the Archduke on that day.

[196] “Notizen,” p. 149.

[197] This letter was first printed in Vol. IV of the German edition

of Thayer’s biography--not, as Mr. Shedlock says, in his translation

of Kalischer’s collection. Vol. IV appeared in 1907; Mr. Shedlock’s

translation in 1909. Dr. Deiters found a transcript of the letter among

the posthumous papers of Mr. Thayer, who had it from Mr. J. Marshall,

of London. Its pages had been separated by some vandal who probably

wanted to sell two autographs instead of one. Mr. Marshall bought

the sheets at two different autograph sales and, recognizing their

relationship, united them. The letter appears afterwards to have come

into the hands of Mr. A. F. Hill, who loaned it to Mr. Shedlock.

[198] Beethoven had sketched a promising Trio in F minor, in 1816,

along with the song-cycle and the Sonata in A major, and this,

probably, was in his mind.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Note

Page headers in the original text have been moved above the paragraph

to which they relate.

Italics are represented by ~swung dashes~. Superscript text is

indicated by carat signs, e.g. 3^{tio}.

"804" in the phrase "804 im August" was overlined on each occurence.

On p. 390, "V. B." was printed in a box.

All instances of "i.e." have been regularised to "i. e.".

The following printing errors have been corrected:

p. 5 "he “doubled" changed to "he doubled"

p. 6 "performance." changed to "performance.”"

p. 26 "that that this" changed to "that this"

p. 30 "difficult one. Beethoven violently" changed to "difficult one,

Beethoven violently"

p. 35 "and the begining" changed to "and the beginning"

p. 54 the paragraph beginning "Many years after" was indented

p. 76 "you were!”" changed to "you were!””"

p. 103 "prefer ~me~?" changed to "prefer ~me~?”"

p. 123 "in the “house" changed to "in the house"

p. 153 "much easier.”" changed to "much easier.’”"

p. 161 "“Weinmonath”" changed to "“Weinmonath"

p. 171 "diastrous" changed to "disastrous"

p. 174 "From Zmeskall’s lodgings" changed to "From Beethoven’s lodgings"

p. 215 "out of place" changed to "out of place."

p. 219 "acquaintaince" changed to "acquaintance"

p. 226 "romatic" changed to "romantic"

p. 227 "you good.”" changed to "you good.””"

p. 231 "similiar" changed to "similar"

p. 262 "Zukünft" changed to "Zukunft"

p. 266 "Gründer" changed to "Gründer”"

p. 290 "inprovised" changed to "improvised"

p. 296 "This seems" changed to "“This seems"

p. 296 "etc.," changed to "etc."

p. 302 "III “Fidelio”" changed to "III. “Fidelio”"

p. 313 "in C major" changed to "in C major."

p. 325 "Farwell" changed to "Farewell"

p. 327 "passively" changed to "passively."

p. 342 "out attention" changed to "our attention"

p. 366 "disatisfaction" changed to "dissatisfaction"

p. 381 (note) "Zurich" changed to "Zürich"

p. 383 "wereoften" changed to "were often"

p. 389 "was compossed" changed to "was composed"

p. 398 "setted" changed to "settled"

p. 412 "two movenents" changed to "two movements"

The following possible errors have not been changed:

p. vii "Disappointing Decrease" and p. 170 "Decrease"

p. 3 "at both: and in this wise:"

p. 6 and p. 267 "Tremate, empj, tremate"

p. 151 (note) "Neverthless"

p. 273 "“urged its completion" has no closing quotation mark

p. 291 "you up came"

p. 341 "how how right"

p. 353 "xThe present"

p. 415 "was thought"

The text uses the following inconsistently:

Carl and Karl

contrabass and contra-bass

Kozeluch and Koželuch

Les Ruines de Babylon and Les ruines de Babilone

nameday and name-day

P.P. and P. P.

pianoforte and piano-forte

In addition, there are many inconsistencies in spelling and punctuation

in quotations, which have not been changed.

Grätz and Gratz are different names.