cannot be settled till to-morrow. What a tiresome loss of time! Why this
deep grief when necessity compels?--can our love exist without sacrifices,
and by refraining from desiring all things? Can you alter the fact that you
are not wholly mine, nor I wholly yours? Ah! contemplate the beauties of
Nature, and reconcile your spirit to the inevitable. Love demands all, and
has a right to do so, and thus it is _I feel towards you_ and _you towards
me_; but you do not sufficiently remember that I must live both _for you_
and _for myself_. Were we wholly united, you would feel this sorrow as
little as I should. My journey was terrible. I did not arrive here till
four o'clock yesterday morning, as no horses were to be had. The drivers
chose another route; but what a dreadful one it was! At the last stage I
was warned not to travel through the night, and to beware of a certain
wood, but this only incited me to go forward, and I was wrong. The carriage
broke down, owing to the execrable roads, mere deep rough country lanes,
and had it not been for the postilions I must have been left by the
wayside. Esterhazy, travelling the usual road, had the same fate with eight
horses, whereas I had only four. Still I felt a certain degree of pleasure,
which I invariably do when I have happily surmounted any difficulty. But I
must now pass from the outer to the inner man. We shall, I trust, soon meet
again; to-day I cannot impart to you all the reflections I have made,
during the last few days, on my life; were our hearts closely united
forever, none of these would occur to me. My heart is overflowing with all
I have to say to you. Ah! there are moments when I find that speech is
actually nothing. Take courage! Continue to be ever my true and only love,
my all! as I am yours. The gods must ordain what is further to be and shall
be!
Your faithful
LUDWIG.
Monday Evening, July 6.
You grieve! dearest of all beings! I have just heard that the letters must
be sent off very early. Mondays and Thursdays are the only days when the
post goes to K. from here. You grieve! Ah! where I am, there you are ever
with me; how earnestly shall I strive to pass my life with you, and what a
life will it be!!! Whereas now!! without you!! and persecuted by the
kindness of others, which I neither deserve nor try to deserve! The
servility of man towards his fellow-man pains me, and when I regard myself
as a component part of the universe, what am I, what is he who is called
the greatest?--and yet herein are displayed the godlike feelings of
humanity!--I weep in thinking that you will receive no intelligence from me
till probably Saturday. However dearly you may love me, I love you more
fondly still. Never conceal your feelings from me. Good-night! As a patient
at these baths, I must now go to rest [a few words are here effaced by
Beethoven himself]. Oh, heavens! so near, and yet so far! Is not our love a
truly celestial mansion, but firm as the vault of heaven itself?
July 7.
GOOD-MORNING!
Even before I rise, my thoughts throng to you, my immortal
beloved!--sometimes full of joy, and yet again sad, waiting to see whether
Fate will hear us. I must live either wholly with you, or not at all.
Indeed I have resolved to wander far from you [see No. 13] till the moment
arrives when I can fly into your arms, and feel that they are my home, and
send forth my soul in unison with yours into the realm of spirits. Alas! it
must be so! You will take courage, for you know my fidelity. Never can
another possess my heart--never, never! Oh, heavens! Why must I fly from
her I so fondly love? and yet my existence in W. was as miserable as here.
Your love made me the most happy and yet the most unhappy of men. At my
age, life requires a uniform equality; can this be found in our mutual
relations? My angel! I have this moment heard that the post goes every day,
so I must conclude, that you may get this letter the sooner. Be calm! for
we can only attain our object of living together by the calm contemplation
of our existence. Continue to love me. Yesterday, to-day, what longings for
you, what tears for you! for you! for you! my life! my all! Farewell! Oh!
love me forever, and never doubt the faithful heart of your lover, L.
Ever thine.
Ever mine.
Ever each other's.
[Footnote 1: These letters to his "immortal beloved," to whom the C sharp
minor Sonata is dedicated, appear here for the first time in their
integrity, in accordance with the originals written in pencil on fine
notepaper, and given in Schindler's _Beethoven's Nachlass_. There has been
much discussion about the date. It is certified, in the first place, in the
church register which Alex. Thayer saw in Vienna, that Giulietta was
married to Count Gallenberg in 1801; and in the next place, the 6th of July
falls on a Monday in 1800. The other reasons which induce me decidedly to
fix this latter year as the date of the letter, I mean to give at full
length in the second volume of _Beethoven's Biography_. I may also state
that Beethoven was at baths in Hungary at that time. Whether the K---- in
the second letter means Komorn, I cannot tell.]
16.
TO MATTHISSON.
Vienna, August 4, 1800.
MOST ESTEEMED FRIEND,--
You will receive with this one of my compositions published some years
since, and yet, to my shame, you probably have never heard of it. I cannot
attempt to excuse myself, or to explain why I dedicated a work to you which
came direct from my heart, but never acquainted you with its existence,
unless indeed in this way, that at first I did not know where you lived,
and partly also from diffidence, which led me to think I might have been
premature in dedicating a work to you before ascertaining that you approved
of it. Indeed, even now I send you "Adelaide" with a feeling of timidity.
You know yourself what changes the lapse of some years brings forth in an
artist who continues to make progress; the greater the advances we make in
art, the less are we satisfied with our works of an earlier date. My most
ardent wish will be fulfilled if you are not dissatisfied with the manner
in which I have set your heavenly "Adelaide" to music, and are incited by
it soon to compose a similar poem; and if you do not consider my request
too indiscreet, I would ask you to send it to me forthwith, that I may
exert all my energies to approach your lovely poetry in merit. Pray regard
the dedication as a token of the pleasure which your "Adelaide" conferred
on me, as well as of the appreciation and intense delight your poetry
always has inspired, and _always will inspire in me_.
When playing "Adelaide," sometimes recall
Your sincere admirer,
BEETHOVEN.
17.
TO FRAU FRANK,--VIENNA
October, 1800.
DEAR LADY,--
At the second announcement of our concert, you must remind your husband
that the public should be made acquainted with the names of those whose
talents are to contribute to this concert. Such is the custom here; and
indeed, were it not so, what is there to attract a larger audience? which
is after all our chief object. Punto [the celebrated horn-player, for whom
Beethoven wrote Sonata 17] is not a little indignant about the omission,
and I must say he has reason to be so; but even before seeing him it was my
intention to have reminded you of this, for I can only explain the mistake
by great haste or great forgetfulness. Be so good, then, dear lady, as to
attend to my hint; otherwise you will certainly expose yourself to _many
annoyances_. Being at last convinced in my own mind, and by others, that I
shall not be quite superfluous in this concert, I know that not only I, but
also Punto, Simoni [a tenorist], and Galvani will demand that the public
should be apprised of our zeal for this charitable object; otherwise we
must all conclude that we are not wanted.
Yours,
BEETHOVEN.
18.
TO HERR VON WEGELER.
Vienna, Nov. 16, 1800.
MY DEAR WEGELER,--
I thank you for this fresh proof of your interest in me, especially as I so
little deserve it. You wish to know how I am, and what remedies I use.
Unwilling as I always feel to discuss this subject, still I feel less
reluctant to do so with you than with any other person. For some months
past Vering has ordered me to apply blisters on both arms, of a particular
kind of bark, with which you are probably acquainted,--a disagreeable
remedy, independent of the pain, as it deprives me of the free use of my
arms for a couple of days at a time, till the blisters have drawn
sufficiently. The ringing and buzzing in my ears have certainly rather
decreased, particularly in the left ear, in which the malady first
commenced, but my hearing is not at all improved; in fact I fear that it is
become rather worse. My health is better, and after using the tepid baths
for a time, I feel pretty well for eight or ten days. I seldom take tonics,
but I have begun applications of herbs, according to your advice. Vering
will not hear of plunge baths, but I am much dissatisfied with him; he is
neither so attentive nor so indulgent as he ought to be to such a malady;
if I did not go to him, which is no easy matter, I should never see him at
all. What is your opinion of Schmidt [an army surgeon]? I am unwilling to
make any change, but it seems to me that Vering is too much of a
practitioner to acquire new ideas by reading. On this point Schmidt appears
to be a very different man, and would probably be less negligent with
regard to my case. I hear wonders of galvanism; what do you say to it? A
physician told me that he knew a deaf and dumb child whose hearing was
restored by it (in Berlin), and likewise a man who had been deaf for seven
years, and recovered his hearing. I am told that your friend Schmidt is at
this moment making experiments on the subject.
I am now leading a somewhat more agreeable life, as of late I have been
associating more with other people. You could scarcely believe what a sad
and dreary life mine has been for the last two years; my defective hearing
everywhere pursuing me like a spectre, making me fly from every one, and
appear a misanthrope; and yet no one is in reality less so! This change has
been wrought by a lovely fascinating girl [undoubtedly Giulietta], who
loves me and whom I love. I have once more had some blissful moments during
the last two years, and it is the first time I ever felt that marriage
could make me happy. Unluckily, she is not in my rank of life, and indeed
at this moment I can marry no one; I must first bestir myself actively in
the world. Had it not been for my deafness, I would have travelled half
round the globe ere now, and this I must still do. For me there is no
pleasure so great as to promote and to pursue my art.
Do not suppose that I could be happy with you. What indeed could make me
happier? Your very solicitude would distress me; I should read your
compassion every moment in your countenance, which would make me only still
more unhappy. What were my thoughts amid the glorious scenery of my
father-land? The hope alone of a happier future, which would have been mine
but for this affliction! Oh! I could span the world were I only free from
this! I feel that my youth is only now commencing. Have I not always been
an infirm creature? For some time past my bodily strength has been
increasing, and it is the same with my mental powers. I feel, though I
cannot describe it, that I daily approach the object I have in view, in
which alone can your Beethoven live. No rest for him!--I know of none but
in sleep, and I do grudge being obliged to sacrifice more time to it than
formerly.[1] Were I only half cured of my malady, then I would come to you,
and, as a more perfect and mature man, renew our old friendship.
You should then see me as happy as I am ever destined to be here below--not
unhappy. No! that I could not endure; I will boldly meet my fate, never
shall it succeed in crushing me. Oh! it is so glorious to live one's life a
thousand times over! I feel that I am no longer made for a quiet existence.
You will write to me as soon as possible? Pray try to prevail on Steffen
[von Breuning] to seek an appointment from the Teutonic Order somewhere.
Life here is too harassing for his health; besides, he is so isolated that
I do not see how he is ever to get on. You know the kind of existence here.
I do not take it upon myself to say that society would dispel his
lassitude, but he cannot be persuaded to go anywhere. A short time since, I
had some music in my house, but our friend Steffen stayed away. Do
recommend him to be more calm and self-possessed, which I have in vain
tried to effect; otherwise he can neither enjoy health nor happiness. Tell
me in your next letter whether you care about my sending you a large
selection of music; you can indeed dispose of what you do not want, and
thus repay the expense of the carriage, and have my portrait into the
bargain. Say all that is kind and amiable from me to Lorchen, and also to
mamma and Christoph. You still have some regard for me? Always rely on the
love as well as the friendship of your
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: "Too much sleep is hurtful" is marked by a thick score in the
Odyssey (45, 393) by Beethoven's hand. See Schindler's _Beethoven's
Nachlass_.]
19.
TO KAPELLMEISTER HOFMEISTER,--LEIPZIG.[1]
Vienna, Dec. 15, 1800.
MY DEAR BROTHER IN ART,--
I have often intended to answer your proposals, but am frightfully lazy
about all correspondence; so it is usually a good while before I can make
up my mind to write dry letters instead of music. I have, however, at last
forced myself to answer your application. _Pro primo_, I must tell you how
much I regret that you, my much-loved brother in the science of music, did
not give me some hint, so that I might have offered you my quartets, as
well as many other things that I have now disposed of. But if you are as
conscientious, my dear brother, as many other publishers, who grind to
death us poor composers, you will know pretty well how to derive ample
profit when the works appear. I now briefly state what you can have from
me. 1st. A Septet, _per il violino, viola, violoncello, contra-basso,
clarinetto, corno, fagotto;--tutti obbligati_ (I can write nothing that is
not _obbligato_, having come into the world with an _obbligato_
accompaniment!) This Septet pleases very much. For more general use it
might be arranged for one more _violino, viola_, and _violoncello_, instead
of the three wind-instruments, _fagotto, clarinetto_, and _corno_.[2] 2d. A
Grand Symphony with full orchestra [the 1st]. 3rd. A pianoforte Concerto
[Op. 19], which I by no means assert to be one of my best, any more than
the one Mollo is to publish here [Op. 15], (this is for the benefit of the
Leipzig critics!) because _I reserve the best for myself_ till I set off on
my travels; still the work will not disgrace you to publish. 4th. A Grand
Solo Sonata [Op. 22]. These are all I can part with at this moment; a
little later you can have a quintet for stringed instruments, and probably
some quartets also, and other pieces that I have not at present beside me.
In your answer you can yourself fix the prices; and as you are neither an
_Italian_ nor a _Jew_, nor am I either, we shall no doubt quickly agree.
Farewell, and rest assured,
My dear brother in art, of the esteem of your
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: The letters to Hofmeister, formerly of Vienna, who conducted
the correspondence with Beethoven in the name of the firm of "Hofmeister &
Kühnel, Bureau de Musique," are given here as they first appeared in 1837
in the _Neue Zeitschrift für Musik_. On applying to the present
representative of that firm, I was told that those who now possess these
letters decline giving them out of their own hands, and that no copyist can
be found able to decipher or transcribe them correctly.]
[Footnote 2: This last phrase is not in the copy before me, but in Marx's
_Biography_, who appears to have seen the original.]
20.
TO KAPELLMEISTER HOFMEISTER.
Vienna, Jan. 15 (or thereabouts), 1801.
I read your letter, dear brother and friend, with much pleasure, and I
thank you for your good opinion of me and of my works, and hope I may
continue to deserve it. I also beg you to present all due thanks to Herr K.
[Kühnel] for his politeness and friendship towards me. I, on my part,
rejoice in your undertakings, and am glad that when works of art do turn
out profitable, they fall to the share of true artists, rather than to that
of mere tradesmen.
Your intention to publish Sebastian Bach's works really gladdens my heart,
which beats with devotion for the lofty and grand productions of this our
father of the science of harmony, and I trust I shall soon see them appear.
I hope when golden peace is proclaimed, and your subscription list opened,
to procure you many subscribers here.[1]
With regard to our own transactions, as you wish to know my proposals, they
are as follows. I offer you at present the following works:--The Septet
(which I already wrote to you about), 20 ducats; Symphony, 20 ducats;
Concerto, 10 ducats; Grand Solo Sonata, _allegro, adagio, minuetto, rondo_,
20 ducats. This Sonata [Op. 22] is well up to the mark, my dear brother!
Now for explanations. You may perhaps be surprised that I make no
difference of price between the sonata, septet, and symphony. I do so
because I find that a septet or a symphony has not so great a sale as a
sonata, though a symphony ought unquestionably to be of the most value.
(N.B. The septet consists of a short introductory _adagio_, an _allegro,
adagio, minuetto, andante_, with variations, _minuetto_, and another short
_adagio_ preceding a _presto_.) I only ask ten ducats for the concerto,
for, as I already wrote to you, I do not consider it one of my best. I
cannot think that, taken as a whole, you will consider these prices
exorbitant; at least, I have endeavored to make them as moderate as
possible for you.
With regard to the banker's draft, as you give me my choice, I beg you will
make it payable by Germüller or Schüller. The entire sum for the four works
will amount to 70 ducats; I understand no currency but Vienna ducats, so
how many dollars in gold they make in your money is no affair of mine, for
really I am a very bad man of business and accountant. Now this
_troublesome_ business is concluded;--I call it so, heartily wishing that
it could be otherwise here below! There ought to be only one grand _dépôt_
of art in the world, to which the artist might repair with his works, and
on presenting them receive what he required; but as it now is, one must be
half a tradesman besides--and how is this to be endured? Good heavens! I
may well call it _troublesome_!
As for the Leipzig oxen,[2] let them talk!--they certainly will make no man
immortal by their prating, and as little can they deprive of immortality
those whom Apollo destines to attain it.
Now may Heaven preserve you and your colleagues! I have been unwell for
some time; so it is rather difficult for me at present to write even music,
much more letters. I trust we shall have frequent opportunities to assure
each other how truly you are my friend, and I yours.
I hope for a speedy answer. Adieu!
L. V. BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: I have at this moment in my hands this edition of Bach, bound
in one thick volume, together with the first part of Nägeli's edition of
the _Wohltemperirtes Clavier_, also three books of exercises (D, G, and C
minor), the _Toccata in D Minor_, and _Twice Fifteen Inventions_.]
[Footnote 2: It is thus that Schindler supplies the gap. It is probably an
allusion to the _Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung_, founded about three
years previously.]
21.
TO HERR HOFMEISTER.
Vienna, April 22, 1801.
You have indeed too good cause to complain not a little of me. My excuse is
that I have been ill, and in addition had so much to do, that I could
scarcely even think of what I was to send you. Moreover, the only thing in
me that resembles a genius is, that my papers are never in very good order,
and yet no one but myself can succeed in arranging them. For instance, in
the score of the concerto, the piano part, according to my usual custom,
was not yet written down; so, owing to my hurry, you will receive it in my
own very illegible writing. In order that the works may follow as nearly as
possible in their proper order, I have marked the numbers to be placed on
each, as follows:--
Solo Sonata, Op. 22.
Symphony, Op. 21.
Septet, Op. 20.
Concerto, Op. 19.
I will send you their various titles shortly.
Put me down as a subscriber to Sebastian Bach's works [see Letter 20], and
also Prince Lichnowsky. The arrangement of Mozart's Sonatas as quartets
will do you much credit, and no doubt be profitable also. I wish I could
contribute more to the promotion of such an undertaking, but I am an
irregular man, and too apt, even with the best intentions, to forget
everything; I have, however, mentioned the matter to various people, and I
everywhere find them well disposed towards it. It would be a good thing if
you would arrange the septet you are about to publish as a quintet, with a
flute part, for instance; this would be an advantage to amateurs of the
flute, who have already importuned me on the subject, and who would swarm
round it like insects and banquet on it.
Now to tell you something of myself. I have written a ballet
["Prometheus"], in which the ballet-master has not done his part so well as
might be. The F---- von L---- has also bestowed on us a production which by
no means corresponds with the ideas of his genius conveyed by the newspaper
reports. F---- seems to have taken Herr M---- (Wenzel Müller?) as his ideal
at the Kusperle, yet without even rising to his level. Such are the fine
prospects before us poor people who strive to struggle upwards! My dear
friend, pray lose no time in bringing the work before the notice of the
public, and write to me soon, that I may know whether by my delay I have
entirely forfeited your confidence for the future. Say all that is civil
and kind to your partner, Kühnel. Everything shall henceforth be sent
finished, and in quick succession. So now farewell, and continue your
regards for
Your friend and brother,
BEETHOVEN.
22.
TO HERR HOFMEISTER.
Vienna, June, 1801.
I am rather surprised at the communication you have desired your business
agent here to make to me; I may well feel offended at your believing me
capable of so mean a trick. It would have been a very different thing had I
sold my works to rapacious shopkeepers, and then secretly made another good
speculation; but, from _one artist to another_, it is rather a strong
measure to suspect me of such a proceeding! The whole thing seems to be
either a device to put me to the test, or a mere suspicion. In any event I
may tell you that before you received the septet from me I had sent it to
Mr. Salomon in London (to be played at his own concert, which I did solely
from friendship), with the express injunction to beware of its getting into
other hands, as it was my intention to have it engraved in Germany, and, if
you choose, you can apply to him for the confirmation of this. But to give
you a further proof of my integrity, "I herewith give you the faithful
assurance that I have neither sold the septet, the symphony, the concerto,
nor the sonata to any one but to Messrs. Hofmeister and Kühnel, and that
they may consider them to be their own exclusive property. And to this I
pledge my honor." You may make what use you please of this guarantee.
Moreover, I believe Salomon to be as incapable of the baseness of engraving
the septet as I am of selling it to him. I was so scrupulous in the matter,
that when applied to by various publishers to sanction a pianoforte
arrangement of the septet, I at once declined, though I do not even know
whether you proposed making use of it in this way. Here follow the
long-promised titles of the works. There will no doubt be a good deal to
alter and to amend in them; but this I leave to you. I shall soon expect a
letter from you, and, I hope, the works likewise, which I wish to see
engraved, as others have appeared, and are about to appear, in connection
with these numbers. I look on your statement as founded on mere rumors,
which you have believed with too much facility, or based entirely on
supposition, induced by having perchance heard that I had sent the work to
Salomon; I cannot, therefore, but feel some coolness towards such a
credulous friend, though I still subscribe myself
Your friend,
BEETHOVEN.
23.
DEDICATION TO DR. SCHMIDT.[1]
1801.
MONSIEUR,--