The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume III (of 3)

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Title: The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume III (of 3)
Author: Thayer, Alexander Wheelock
Language: English
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Transcriber's Note

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THE LIFE OF LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN
VOLUME III

[Illustration]

[Illustration: BEETHOVEN in 1814

Engraved by Blasius Höfel

After a crayon sketch by Louis Latronne]

The Life of

Ludwig van Beethoven

_By_ Alexander Wheelock Thayer

Edited, revised and amended from the original
English manuscript and the German editions
of Hermann Deiters and Hugo Riemann, concluded,
and all the documents newly translated

By
Henry Edward Krehbiel

Volume III

Published by
The Beethoven Association
New York

_SECOND PRINTING_

From the press of G. Schirmer, Inc., New York
Printed in the U. S. A.

Contents of Volume III

PAGE
CHAPTER I. The Year 1819--Guardianship of Beethoven’s
Nephew Karl--Mother and Uncle in a Legal Struggle--The
Lad’s Education--Conversation Books--A Wedding
Song--In Travail with the Mass in D--The
Commission for an Oratorio from the Gesellschaft
der Musikfreunde--Visits from Zelter and Friedrich
Schneider--Creative Work of the Year 1

CHAPTER II. End of the Litigation over the Guardianship of
the Nephew--A Costly Victory--E. T. A. Hoffmann--An
Analytical Programme--Beethoven’s Financial Troubles--Adagios
and English Hymn-Tunes--Stieler’s
Portrait--Arrested as a Vagrant--Negotiations for the
Mass in D begun with Simrock--The Last Pianoforte
Sonatas--Compositions of the Years 1820 and 1821 24

CHAPTER III. The Year 1822--The Mass in D--Beethoven
and His Publishers--Simrock--Schlesinger--C. F.
Peters--Phantom Masses--Johann van Beethoven:
His Appearance and Character--Becomes His Brother’s
Agent--Meetings with Rochlitz and Rossini--Franz
Schubert--“The Consecration of the House”--Revival
of “Fidelio”--Madame Schroeder-Devrient--The
Bagatelles--A Commission from America 51

CHAPTER IV. The Year 1823--The Roman Ritual and
the Mass in D--Subscriptions Asked from Royal
Courts--Incidents of the Appeal--Goethe and Cherubini
Enlisted as Agents--A Medal from the King of
France--Further Negotiations with Publishers and
Societies--Operatic Projects--Consideration of Grillparzer’s
“Melusine”--The Diabelli Variations--Summer
Visitors--An Englishman’s Story--Weber and Julius
Benedict--Ries and the Ninth Symphony--Franz Liszt
and Beethoven’s Kiss 89

CHAPTER V. The Year 1824--The Symphony in D
Minor--Its Technical History--The Choral Finale
and Schiller’s “Ode to Joy”--First Performance of the
Work and Portions of the Mass--An Address to
Beethoven--Laborious and Protracted Preparations
for the Concert--A Financial Failure--Beethoven’s
False Accusations against Friends and Helpers Drive
Them from the Dinner-Table 144

CHAPTER VI. Incidents and Labors of the Year 1824--A
Truce with the Hated Sister-in-Law--The Gesellschaft
der Musikfreunde’s Oratorio--Bernard’s Libretto--The
Society Forgives Beethoven His Debt and
Elects Him an Honorary Member--Book of “The
Victory of the Cross”--Summer Sojourn at Penzing
Interrupted by Curious Visitors--The London Philharmonic
Society Receives the Symphony in D
Minor--Further Negotiations for the Mass--New
Publishers--Probst--Schott and Sons--A Visitor from
London--Beethoven’s Opinion of His Predecessors--The
Quartet in E-flat, Op. 127--Trip to England Determined
Upon 170

CHAPTER VII. The Year 1825. The Invitation from the
Philharmonic Society of London--The Ninth Symphony
Performed at Aix-la-Chapelle--Mass and Symphony
Delivered to Schott and Sons--Unpleasant Results of an
Attempted Joke on Haslinger--Beethoven and a
Copyist--The String Quartet in E-flat Taken Away
from Schuppanzigh after a First Performance--Karl
Holz--Beethoven Authorizes Him to Write the History
of His Life--Early Biographers--Visits of Rellstab, Kuhlau,
Smart and Others--Sir George Smart’s Recollections--
Dedication of the Mass in D--Stephan von
Breuning--Wegeler asks Beethoven to Defend the Honor
of His Mother--The Quartets in A Minor and B-flat 186

CHAPTER VIII. A Year of Sickness and Sorrow--The
Last String Quartets--Wolfmayer Commissions a
“Requiem” and Pays in Advance--Many Works _in
petto_--Controversy with Prince Galitzin and His
Son--The Fugue in the B-flat Quartet--“Muss es
sein?”--Dedication of the Ninth Symphony--The King
of Prussia and His Gift of a Dubious Diamond--Abbé
Stadler--Beethoven Defends Mozart’s “Requiem”--Friedrich
Wieck--Beethoven Goes to His Brother’s
Summer Home--Life at Gneixendorf--Relations with
His Brother’s Family--Young Oxen Thrown into a Panic
Fear--The Quartet in F and a New Finale for the
Quartet in B-flat--The Year 1826--Beethoven’s Last
Compositions 218

CHAPTER IX. Karl van Beethoven--A Wayward Ward
and an Unwise Guardian--Beethoven and his Graceless
Nephew--An Ill-advised Foster-father--A Profligate
Youth--Effect of the Guardianship on Beethoven’s
Character--An Unsuccessful Attempt at Self-destruction--
Karl is Made a Soldier 247

CHAPTER X. The Last Days at Gneixendorf--A Brother’s
Warning--Beethoven and His Kinspeople--The Fateful
Journey to Vienna--The Fatal Illness--The Physicians
and Their Treatment--The Nephew Exonerated
from a Slanderous Accusation--Schindler’s Disingenuousness--
Dr. Malfatti Forgets a Resentment Harbored
for more than a Decade--Beethoven and Handel’s
Scores--A Gift of 100 Pounds Sterling from the London
Philharmonic Society--Eventual Disposition of the
Money--Metronome Marks for the Ninth Symphony--Death
and Burial of Beethoven--His Estate 267

GENERAL INDEX 315

INDEX TO COMPOSITIONS 344

Chapter I

The Contest for the Guardianship of Nephew Karl--The Conversation
Books--A Wedding Song--In Travail with the Mass--The Year 1819.

The key-note for much that must occupy us in a survey of the year 1819
is sounded by A New Year’s Greeting to Archduke Rudolph. Beethoven
invokes all manner of blessings on the head of his pupil and patron
and, begging a continuance of gracious benevolences for himself, sets
forth a picture of his unhappy plight.

A terrible occurrence has recently taken place in my family affairs
which for a time robbed me of all my reasoning powers; and to this
must be charged the circumstance that I have not called upon Y.
R. H. in person nor made mention of the masterly Variations of my
highly honored and exalted pupil, the favorite of the Muses. I do
not dare to express either by word of mouth or in writing my thanks
for the surprise and favor with which I have been honored, inasmuch
as I occupy _much too humble_ a position, nor dare I, much as I
would like and ardently as I long to do so, _requite like with
like_.

A little boy of eleven years runs away from his uncle to his indulgent
mother whom he, for months at a time, has not been allowed to see,
although both live within the same city limits. What else could be
expected than that this should now and then occur? What should be
thought of the child’s heart if it did not? And when it did, who but
Beethoven would have felt more than a passing disturbance of his
equanimity at an offense so natural under the circumstances? But to
him it was a “terrible occurrence” which for a space robbed him of his
reason. No one of ordinary sensibilities can read the story without
strong feelings of compassion for him--not that the boy’s freak was
in any sense in itself a grievous misfortune, but because the uncle’s
sufferings occasioned by it were so real and intense.

There is no reason to doubt the mother’s assertion that she sent
the child back through the intervention of the police, for this was
clearly her best policy, more especially because she and her advisers
found in the incident a wished-for occasion to renew her petition to
have her son admitted into the R. I. Convict. It was this petition,
enforced by Hotschevar’s long paper and its accompanying documents,
which had led to the question of Beethoven’s right to have his case
tried by the tribunal of the nobility, and the negative decision which
transferred the whole matter to the City Magistracy. At this point a
few official data are wanting, and the suspension of Beethoven from the
guardianship of his nephew can only be stated as having been determined
by the magistrates immediately after the beginning of the new year,
and that, in consequence of this, the boy was for a few weeks with his
mother. On January 10, Fanny Giannatasio writes in her diary: “What
Müller tells me about Beethoven pains me deeply. The wicked woman has
finally succeeded in triumphing over him. He has been removed from
the guardianship[1] and the wicked son returns to the source of his
wickedness. I can imagine Beethoven’s grief. It is said that since
yesterday he has been entirely alone and eats apart from the others. He
ought to know that Karl is glad to be with his mother; it would ease
the pain of the separation.”

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S APPEAL TO THE MAGISTRACY]

On January 7 the magistrates summoned Beethoven (who still lived in
the Gärtnergasse), the boy, the mother, Hotschevar and the curator,
Dr. Schönauer, to appear before them on January 11. Of what action was
taken that day there is no record, but Hotschevar’s attack brought
out a vigorous defense in the shape of a letter sent by Beethoven
to the Magistracy,[2] in which he maintained the superiority of the
educational plan which he was pursuing over that which had been
proposed by the mother, proclaimed the magnanimity and virtuousness of
all his acts and discharged a broadside of accusation and insinuation
against Madame van Beethoven and the priest who had come to her help.
We can make room for only a few passages:

His exceptional capacity, and partly also his peculiarities,
call for exceptional measures; and I never did a more beneficial
or magnanimous act than when I took my nephew to myself and
personally assumed charge of his education. Seeing that (according
to Plutarch) a Philip did not think it beneath his dignity to
direct the education of his son Alexander and give him the great
Aristotle for a teacher because he did not consider the ordinary
teachers suitable, and a Laudon looked after the education of
his son _himself_, why should not such beautiful and sublime
examples be followed by others? Already during his lifetime his
father entrusted my nephew to me and I confess that I feel myself
better fitted than anybody else _to incite my nephew to virtue and
industry by my own example_.

Had the mother been able to subdue her wicked disposition and
permitted my plans to take their quiet development a very favorable
result would have followed; but when a _mother of this sort_ seeks
to involve her child in the secrets of her own vulgar and evil
surroundings, and in his tender years (a plague for children!!!)
leads aim astray to deception, to bribery of my servants, to
_untruthfulness_, by _laughing at him_ when he tells the truth,
yes, even _giving him money_ to awaken in him lusts and desires
which are harmful, tells him that things are trifles which _in me
and others would be accounted_ grave faults, the already difficult
task becomes more difficult and dangerous.

Gifts of fortune may be acquired; morality must be _implanted_
early, particularly when a child has had the misfortune to suck
in such _mother’s milk_, was in her care for several years, was
put to thoroughly bad uses, even had to help _deceive_ his father.
Furthermore he will _inherit from me_ and even now I could leave
him enough to _keep him from want_ while continuing his studies
until he should receive an appointment. We need only _quiet and no
more interference_ from the mother, and the beautiful goal which I
have set will be attained.

Ought I now to reply to the intrigues of a Mr. Courtscrivener
Hotschowa [Hotschevar] against me, or to the _priest of Mödling_,
who is despised by his congregation, who is suspected of being
guilty of _illicit intercourse_, who lays his pupils military
fashion on a form to be thrashed and could not forgive me because I
kept watch on him and would not permit my nephew to be caned like a
_brute_--ought I? No; the association of these men with Madame van
Beethoven _bears witness_ against them both, and _only such_ could
make _common cause_ with Madame van Beethoven _against me_.

Beethoven accompanied this address with a private letter presumably to
Dr. Tschiska (or Tschischka), an official of the Magistracy, in which
he said:

I am not a guardian from self-interest, but I want to rear a new
monument to myself in my nephew. I do not need my nephew, but he
needs me. Gossip, calumny, are beneath the dignity of a man who is
raising himself up! What is to be done when they even touch the
laundry!?!? I might be very sensitive, but the just man must be
able to endure injustice without departing an iota from the right.
In this sense I shall endure every trial, nothing shall shake
my resolution. A great responsibility would be incurred were my
nephew to be wholly withdrawn from me; moral and even political
consequences would follow to him. I commend him to you and appeal
to your heart for his welfare. My actions must commend me for his
sake, not mine.

We do not know the particulars, but for the present Beethoven retained
the right to look after the further education of the boy; the right, at
least, was not judicially taken away from him or given to another. He
did not send him again to a public school, but engaged a private tutor
under whose care he continued his studies in an institute conducted by
Joseph Kudlich, of whom he spoke in great praise. Besides the ordinary
subjects, he received instruction in French, drawing and music; his
religious training was entrusted to a priest. This state of affairs
lasted till the end of March, when he announced a desire to resign the
guardianship--persuaded to take this step, it is fair to presume, by
the magistrates who, in the end, would have been obliged to remove him.
Karl was living with his mother at the time. According to the court
records, Beethoven left the matter of education “entirely to Kudlich,”
with whom (if a passage in one of the Conversation Books is read
correctly) he seems also to have lived temporarily, and it was given
to him to propose the name of a guardian, either in place of himself
or as an associate. He consulted earnestly with his friends as to what
was to be done with the boy and who should be his guardian, and those
friends were sorely tried by his constitutional indecision. In these
consultations, the project of sending the boy away from Vienna, and
the name of Sailer, were mooted.[3] “What must be done,” Bernard says,
“is to select as guardian a man who has your entire confidence both as
respects morality and pedagogical skill, and with whom you may always
remain on friendly terms concerning the affair. Since Kudlich has more
influence on Karl than Giannatasio, it is my opinion that you seek no
further for someone who would meet every requirement.--It would merely
be very troublesome for you.” Beethoven seems to be in doubt; he had a
preference for his friend the magisterial Councillor Tuscher, and the
project of sending him to Sailer in Landshut appealed to him. Bernard
says again: “If you want peace of mind I think it wise that you name a
guardian as you were willing to do yesterday. But if it is possible to
send the boy to Sailer at Landshut,[4] it would, of course, be better
still, since then you could feel assured that he was in the best of
hands. Even if you have Tuscher as co-guardian, your case will not be
bettered, inasmuch as all cares will still rest on you. Perhaps Tuscher
and Kudlich might jointly assume the guardianship--this might be very
advantageous. All the same, everything will remain as heretofore, even
if you send him away he will remain with Kudlich until a change has
been made. So long as you are guardian and Karl remains here, you will
not only have all the cares as heretofore, but also be compelled to
fight the mother and all her intrigues. Have Karl sent for the present
again to Kudlich, meanwhile the matter may be straightened out.”[5]

[Sidenote: A NEW GUARDIAN FOR KARL APPOINTED]

Beethoven seems to have expressed a doubt as to Tuscher’s willingness
to serve as guardian. Bernard continues: “Perhaps he might be more
easily persuaded if a co-guardian like Kudlich were appointed.--It is
not necessary to settle everything by to-morrow. If we go to Omeyer
to-morrow morning, then to Tuscher and Kudlich, we can come to an
understanding as to what will be the best thing to do.” Tuscher, if
we are correct in recognizing his handwriting, permitted himself to
be persuaded, though a bit under protest; he foresaw difficulties.
The Magistracy at the suggestion of Beethoven thereupon appointed
the Magisterial Councillor Matthias von Tuscher guardian of the boy
on March 26. He was commanded to place his ward, then “living with
his mother, Johanna van Beethoven,” in another place for bringing
up and education under proper care, and submit his opinion touching
the proposition of the mother and Hotschevar that he be entered in a
public institute of learning before the expiration of the second school
semester, that Beethoven contribute to the cost and that the share of
the mother’s pension and the interest on the money deposited for the
boy be applied to this end. Tuscher was decidedly of the opinion that
the boy must be sent away for a time and was agreed with the plan of
placing him with Prof. Sailer in Landshut after it had been broached to
him. For this the consent of the Magistracy and the police authorities
and a passport were necessary. In the opinion of one of Beethoven’s
advisers (Bach) Tuscher was to be informed of the plan only after the
passport had been obtained, but before the mother, who had already
found “a channel,” could take steps to communicate with Tuscher.
Beethoven applied to the city authorities for a passport for two years
for his ward. On April 23, the authorities asked of the Magistracy
if there were any objections to the proposed step. The Magistracy
objected to the boy’s being sent into a foreign country, but asked
Tuscher if he were not willing to withdraw his application and name an
institute in Austria. Tuscher declined and set forth the great hopes
which he placed in the training to be had of a man like Sailer, who,
“because of his reverence for the talents of the composer, Beethoven,
was especially bound to him,” and hence would bestow upon his charge
the strictest oversight and care, which was of great importance in the
case of a boy who was “extremely cunning and an adept in every sort of
craftiness.” In replying to the municipal authorities the Magistracy
(on May 7) conceded the necessity of withdrawing the boy from his
mother’s influence, but thought it unnecessary to send him out of the
country on this account, against which the mother had protested and the
curator of the ward, Dr. Schönauer, had declared himself. The passport
was therefore refused. Beethoven had taken a step which seems to have
been made to prevent the widow from securing help for her plans from
a source higher than any that had yet been invoked and to enlist that
higher power in his own behalf. He appealed to Archduke Rudolph to use
his influence with Archduke Ludwig, the youngest brother of Emperor
Franz I, to aid him in his project of sending his nephew far away from
the mother’s influence. In the letter written to the Archduke[6] he
states that it had been his intention to petition Archduke Ludwig in
the premises, but there had thitherto appeared to be no occasion for
so doing for the reason that all the authorities who had jurisdiction
in the matter were convinced of the advisability of the step, viz.:
the Police, the Supervisory Guardianship Court and the guardian. He
had heard, however, that the mother intended to seek an audience of
Archduke Ludwig to prevent the execution of his plan. Convinced that
she would stop at nothing in the way of calumination, he expressed the
hope that his reputation for morality would suffice as a refutation of
her slanders, and that Archduke Rudolph would bear testimony in his
behalf.

The plan to send the nephew out of the country had been frustrated
and had to be abandoned. His mind being filled with artistic projects
of the greatest magnitude, Beethoven was desirous to pass the summer
months again in Mödling, and after the experiences of the preceding
year nothing could be hoped for his nephew in that quarter. He came
to a realization of the advantages which Giannatasio’s institute had
offered and in a letter to Giannatasio asked him again to take the lad
till other arrangements had been made. The Giannatasio family were
fearful lest such a proceeding might work harm to their institution,
and on June 17 visited Beethoven at Mödling to tell him that his wishes
could not be complied with. “Grievously as it pained us,” Fanny writes
in her diary, “to refuse Beethoven anything, I am yet so convinced of
the necessity of the step and that it could do us no good, but on the
contrary harm, that I prefer to have it so.” Thereupon the lad was
sent to the institute of Joseph Blöchlinger. Claudius Artaria, who was
one of the teachers there (1821-1824), recalled in later years that
Karl was one of the older scholars, “naturally talented, but somewhat
conceited because he was the nephew of Beethoven.” He also saw the
mother there a few times, but remembered nothing in particular in
connection with her visits. The lad appears to have prospered during
the early part of his stay at this school. In December, 1819, an
unknown hand writes in a Conversation Book:

A great deal has been gained in that the boy has again become
orderly in his public studies. Plöchlinger [_sic_] moreover, though
not exactly brilliant, seems to be good--the public school system
acts as a restraint on him.--Your nephew looks well; handsome
eyes--charm, a speaking physiognomy, and excellent bearing. I would
continue his education for only two years more.--He is always
present, and thus she can do him no harm. But he is agreed that she
spoils the boy.--When you have acquired the sole guardianship, then
do you decide and he will obey.--Your views are admirable but not
always reconcilable with this wretched world.--Would that everybody
might understand and appreciate your love for your nephew.

[Sidenote: TUSCHER RELIEVED OF THE GUARDIANSHIP]

Tuscher, a member of the Magistracy, was compelled to recognize that
his colleagues were wholly under the influence of Madame van Beethoven
and Hotschevar, and that he could do no service to his friend or his
friend’s ward; on July 5, he applied to be relieved of the guardianship
which, he said, had become “in every respect burdensome and vexatious,”
on the ground that “the multiplicity of official duties as well as
various other considerations would not permit him longer to administer
the office.” Beethoven took this action in very bad part, and Tuscher
shared the fate of many others of being for a space an object of the
composer’s critical ill will. Beethoven now served notice on the
Magistracy that he would resume the guardianship under the testamentary
appointment and that he had placed his ward in Blöchlinger’s
institution. On July 15 he writes to Archduke Rudolph, lamenting that
confusion still reigns in his domestic affairs, no hope or comfort is
in sight, all his structures are blown away, as if by the wind. “The
present proprietor of the institute in which I have placed my nephew,
a pupil of Pestalozzi, is of the opinion that it will be difficult
to achieve a desirable outcome in the boy’s training--and also that
there could be nothing more profitable to my nephew than absence from
the country.” In a letter of September 14 to Blöchlinger he writes:
“_Only the following individuals have free access to my nephew, Mr. v.
Bernard, Mr. v. Oliva, Mr. v. Piuk, Recording Secretary.... My nephew
is not to go out of the house without my written permission_--from
which it is plain what course is to be followed toward the mother--I
insist that in this respect _strict obedience_ be given to what the
authorities and I have ordained.”

It is not known whether the Magistracy was immediately informed
of the new steps which Beethoven had taken, or whether Madame van
Beethoven made a presentment of some sort on the subject. Be that as
it may, as chief guardian it determined if possible to put an end
to the continual friction and undertook an investigation of all the
educational experiments which had been made, arriving at the conclusion
that the boy had been “subject to the whims of Beethoven and had been
tossed back and forth like a ball from one educational institution to
another.” For this reason it decreed, on September 17, that Tuscher’s
request be granted, but that the guardianship should not again be
entrusted to Beethoven but to the mother, the natural guardian under
the law, with a capable and honest man as co-guardian. To this office
Leopold Nussböck, municipal Sequestrator, was appointed. Beethoven
protested against the action in a letter which the Magistracy received
on October 31.[7] Having been absent from the city at the time, “on
a matter of business,” he had made no objection to the appointment
of Herr Nussböck as guardian of his nephew, but returning with the
intention of remaining in Vienna he wished to resume the guardianship,
as this was essential to the welfare of the boy, the mother having
neither the will nor the strength to look after his training. He was
the more insistent on a resumption of this duty since he had learned
that owing to lack of money the boy was to be removed from the
institution which he had selected for him, and he charged that the
mother wished to take her son to her home so that she might be able
to expend his income, including the half of her pension which she was
obliged to devote to his education, upon herself. He asked that the
intermediary guardianship be taken from Nussböck and be restored to
him without delay. About the same time (October 23) he wrote at great
length to Dr. Bach, who had now become his lawyer.[8] From this it
appears that Madame van Beethoven had addressed another communication
to the Magistrates’ Court, in which she apparently said or intimated
that Beethoven would, in consequence of the elevation of the Archduke
to the Archbishopric, be obliged to spend the greater part of his time
in Olmütz, and had renewed her attacks upon his moral character. “His
Imperial Highness, Eminence and Cardinal” would unhesitatingly bear
witness to his morality, and, as to the twaddle about Olmütz, the
Archduke would probably spend not more than six weeks of the year there.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN INSISTS ON SOLE GUARDIANSHIP]

The chief points are that I be recognized at once as sole guardian,
I will accept no co-guardian, that the mother be excluded from
intercourse with her son in the _Institute_ because in view of
her _immorality_ there cannot be enough watchmen there and she
confuses the teacher by her false statements and lies. She also
has led her son to tell shameful lies and make charges _against
me_, and accuses me herself of having given him too much or too
little; but that the claims of humanity may not be overlooked, she
may see her son occasionally at my home in the presence of his
teachers and other excellent men.... It is my opinion that you
should insist stoutly and irrevocably that I be _sole_ guardian
and that this unnatural mother shall see her son only at _my
house_; my well known humanity and culture are a guarantee that
my treatment of her will be no less generous than that given to
her son. Moreover, I think that all this should be done quickly
and that if possible we ought to get the Appellate Court to assume
the superior guardianship, as I want my nephew to be placed in a
higher category; neither he nor I belong to the Magistracy under
whose guardianship are only innkeepers, shoemakers and tailors. As
regards his present maintenance, it shall be cared for as long as
I live. For the future he has 7,000 florins _W.W._ of which his
mother has the usufruct during life; also 2,000 fl. (or a little
more since I have reinvested it), the interest on which belongs to
_him_, and 4,000 florins in silver of _mine_ are lying in the bank;
as he is to inherit all my property this belongs to his capital.
You will observe that while because of his _great talent_ (to which
the Honorable Magistracy is indifferent) he will not be able at
once to support himself, there is already a superfluity in case of
my death.

In a postscript he accuses the mother of wishing to gain possession of
her son in order to enjoy all of her pension. In view of this he had
taken counsel as to whether or not he should let her keep the money and
make it good from his own pocket. He had been advised not to do so,
however, because she would make bad use of the money. “I have decided,
therefore, to set aside the sum in time. You see again how foolishly
the Magistracy is acting in trying to tear my son wholly from me, since
when she dies the boy will lose this share of the pension and would get
along _very poorly_ without my aid.” A few days later Beethoven wrote
to Dr. Bach again, this time to suggest that legal steps be taken to
attach the widow’s pension, he having a suspicion that she was trying
to evade payment of her son’s share because she had permitted nine
months to pass without drawing the pension from the exchequer.

The Magistracy disposed of Beethoven’s protest and application on
November 4, by curtly referring him to the disposition made of his
petition of September 17. Beethoven asked for a reconsideration of the
matter, but without avail, and the only recourse remaining to him was
the appeal to the higher court which had already been suggested to Dr.
Bach. The story of that appeal belongs to the year 1820. Meanwhile
the association of Councillor Peters with him in the guardianship had
been broached and was the subject of discussion with his friends. In
December Bernard writes in a Conversation Book:

The Magistracy has till now only made a minute of the proceedings
and will now hold a session to arrive at a decision. It is already
decided that you shall have the chief guardianship, but a 2d is
to be associated with you. As no objection can be made to Peters,
there will be no difficulty. The matter will be ordered according
to your wishes and I will take care of Mr. Blöchlinger. The mother
will not be admitted to the institute unless you are present, 4
times a year is enough--nor the guardian either?--The Magistracy
has compromised itself nicely.

Bach seems to have advised that the mother be accepted as co-guardian.
He writes: “As co-guardian she will have no authority, only the
honor of being associated in the guardianship. She will be a mere
figurehead.” Whether the conversations noted at the time referred to
the case on appeal or to the application still pending before the
Magistracy, or some to the one, some to the other, it is impossible to
determine. The record of the refusal of the Magistracy has not been
procured, but the decree of the Appellate Court gives December 20 as
its date.

[Sidenote: SCHINDLER AND THE CONVERSATION BOOKS]

Frequent citations from the so-called “Conversation Books” made
in the course of the narrative touching the later phases of the
controversy over the guardianship call for some remarks upon this new
source of information opened in this year. In the “Niederrheinische
Musikzeitung,” No. 28 of 1854, Schindler wrote:

Beethoven’s hearing had already become too weak for oral
conversation, even with the help of an ear-trumpet, in 1818,
and recourse had now to be had to writing. Only in the case of
intercourse with Archduke Rudolph, and here because of his gentle
voice, the smallest of the ear-trumpets remained of service for
several years more.

That he was able, partly by the ear and partly by the eye, to judge of
the correctness of the performance of his music, Schindler states in
the same article--a fact also known from many other sources; this was
the case even to his last year. When, after the death of Beethoven,
such of his manuscripts and papers as were thought to be salable
were set apart, there remained in the hands of von Breuning a lot of
letters, documents and Conversation Books. The estimated value in the
inventory of the manuscripts and the price obtained for them at the
auction sale, indicate how utterly worthless from a pecuniary point
of view that other collection was thought to be; as, however, they
might be of use to some future biographer, it was well to have them
preserved, and doubtless a small gratification to Schindler for his
great sacrifices and very valuable services to Beethoven in these last
months, the only one which he as guardian to the absent nephew could
make; so Breuning gave them to him. The Conversation Books, counting
in as such those which were really nothing but a sheet or two of paper
loosely folded, were only about 400 in number, or less than fifty per
annum for the last eight and a half years of Beethoven’s life--that
being the period which they cover. Schindler, who spoke on this as on
so many other topics frankly and without reserve, said that he long
preserved the books and papers intact, but not finding any person
but himself who placed any value upon them, their weight and bulk
had led him in the course of his long unsettled life by degrees to
destroy those which he deemed to be of little or no importance. The
remainder were, in 1845, transferred to the Royal Library in Berlin,
and, in 1855, when they were examined for this work, numbered 138. It
was but natural that those preserved are such as place Schindler’s
relation to the master in the strongest light and those deemed by him
essential to the full understanding of the more important events of
Beethoven’s last years. Most of them bear evidence of the deep interest
with which Schindler, while they remained in his possession, lived
over the past in them. In many cases he appended the names of the
principal writers; so that one soon learns to distinguish their hands
without difficulty; and occasionally he enriched them with valuable
annotations.[9] The larger of them--ordinary blank note-books--are
only of a size and thickness fitted to be carried in the coat-pocket.
It is obvious, therefore, on a moment’s reflection, that at a single
sitting with a few friends in an inn or coffee-house, the pages must
have filled rapidly as the book passed from hand to hand and one or
another wrote question or reply, remark or statement, a bit of news
or a piece of advice. A few such conversations, one sees, would fill
a book, all the sooner as there is no thought of economizing space
and each new sentence is usually also a new paragraph. It strikes
one, therefore, that the whole 400 could have contained but a small
portion of the conversations of the period they covered. This was so.
At home a slate or any loose scraps of paper were commonly used, thus
saving a heavy item of expense; moreover, many who conversed with
Beethoven would only write upon the slate in order to obliterate it
immediately, that nothing should remain exposed to the eyes of others.
The books, therefore, were for the most part for use when the composer
was away from home, although there were occasions when, it being
desirable to preserve what was written, they were also used there.
Hence, the collection in Berlin can be viewed as little more than
scattered specimens of the conversations of the master’s friends and
companions, most unequally distributed as to time. For months together
there is nothing or hardly anything; and then again a few days will
fill many scores of leaves. In a few instances Beethoven has himself
written--that is, when in some public place he did not trust his voice;
and memoranda of divers kinds, even of musical ideas from his pen, are
not infrequent. One is surprised to find so few distinguished names in
literature, science and art--Grillparzer’s forms an exception and he
appears only in the later years; as for the rest, they are for the most
part of local Vienna celebrities.

There is no source of information for the biography of Beethoven
which at first sight appears so rich and productive and yet, to the
conscientious writer, proves so provokingly defective and requires such
extreme caution in its use as these Conversation Books. The oldest of
them belongs to the time before us (1819) and was evidently preserved
by Schindler on account of the protracted conversations on the topic of
the nephew. We have already made several citations from it and shall
have frequent occasion to have recourse to it in the progress of this
narrative. The period in which it was used is approximately fixed by a
reference to a concert given by the violinist Franz Clement, at which
he played an introduction and variations on a theme by Beethoven.
This concert took place on April 4, 1819.[10] The last conversations
in the book took place about the time of Beethoven’s removal to
Mödling--shortly before and after.

This explanatory digression may serve as a modulation to more cheerful
themes than that which has occupied us of late.

[Sidenote: MUSICAL SURPRISE AT A WEDDING]

Though Karl was no longer a member of the Giannatasio household or
pupil of the institute, and though there were, in consequence, fewer
meetings between Beethoven and his self-sacrificing friends, their
relations remained pleasant, and early in 1819 Beethoven found occasion
to supplement his verbal protestations of gratitude with a deed. Nanni,
the younger daughter of Giannatasio, was married on February 6, 1819,
to Leopold Schmerling. When the young couple returned to the house
after the ceremony they were greeted by a wedding hymn for tenor solo,
men’s voices and pianoforte accompaniment. The performers were hidden
in a corner of the room. When they had finished they stepped forth from
their place of concealment. Beethoven was among them and he handed the
manuscript of the music which he had written to words of Prof. Stein,
who occupied a chair of philosophy at the University and was also tutor
in the imperial household,[11] to the bride.

Beethoven made a single appearance as conductor in this year. It was on
January 17 at a concert given for the benefit of the Widows and Orphans
of the Juridical Faculty of the University. The orchestra was largely
composed of amateurs and the programme began with the overture to
“Prometheus” and ended with the Seventh Symphony. Among the listeners
was P. D. A. Atterbom, the Swedish poet, who wrote a sympathetic
account of it.

In the midst of the worries occasioned by the guardianship, Beethoven
was elected Honorary Member of the Philharmonic Society of Laibach,
an institution which had been founded in 1702 and revived, after
repeated interruptions, in 1816. The project of giving him the
distinction had been broached in the councils of the society in 1808,
but Anton Schmith, a physician in Vienna, whose opinion had been
asked, had advised against it, saying: “Beethoven is as freakish as
he is unserviceable.” Eleven years later the men of Laibach had more
knowledge or better counsel, and they sent him a diploma on March
15 through von Tuscher. Acknowledging the honor on May 4, Beethoven
stated that as a mark of appreciation he was sending, also through
the magistrate, an “unpublished” composition and would hold himself
in readiness to serve the society should it ever need him. There is
no direct evidence as to what composition he had in mind; but in the
archives of the Laibach society there is a manuscript copy of the Sixth
Symphony. It is not an autograph except as to its title, Beethoven
having written “Sinfonia pastorale” on the cover in red crayon, and
corrections in lead pencil in the music.[12]

The time for Beethoven’s annual summer flitting had come. Mödling was
chosen again for the country sojourn and Beethoven arrived there on May
12, taking lodgings as before in the Hafner house in the Hauptstrasse.
He had, evidently, brought a housekeeper with him and now engaged a
housemaid. The former endured two months.[13] Karl was placed under
the tuition of Blöchlinger on June 22. Beethoven, as letters to the
Archduke dated July 15 and August 31[14] show, was not in the best of
health, but was hard at work on the mass, with an excursion now and
then into the symphony (Ninth). Schindler presents us with a pathetic,
impressive, almost terrifying picture of the state to which his labors
lifted him (Ed. of 1860, I, 270):

[Sidenote: IN A FRENZY OF COMPOSITION]

Towards the end of August, accompanied by the musician Johann
Horsalka still living in Vienna, I arrived at the master’s home in
Mödling. It was 4 o’clock in the afternoon. As soon as we entered
we learned that in the morning both servants had gone away, and
that there had been a quarrel after midnight which had disturbed
all the neighbors, because as a consequence of a long vigil both
had gone to sleep and the food which had been prepared had become
unpalatable. In the living-room, behind a locked door, we heard
the master singing parts of the fugue in the _Credo_--singing,
howling, stamping. After we had been listening a long time to this
almost awful scene, and were about to go away, the door opened and
Beethoven stood before us with distorted features, calculated to
excite fear. He looked as if he had been in mortal combat with the
whole host of contrapuntists, his everlasting enemies. His first
utterances were confused, as if he had been disagreeably surprised
at our having overheard him. Then he reached the day’s happenings
and with obvious restraint he remarked: “Pretty doings, these!
(_Saubere Wirthschaft_.) Everybody has run away and I haven’t
had anything to eat since yesternoon!” I tried to calm him and
helped him to make his toilet. My companion hurried on in advance
to the restaurant of the bathing establishment to have something
made ready for the famished master. Then he complained about the
wretched state of his domestic affairs, but here, for reasons
already stated, there was nothing to be done. Never, it may be
said, did so great an artwork as is the _Missa Solemnis_ see its
creation under more adverse circumstances.[15]

The fact that Beethoven received an advance payment on a commission
for an oratorio which he undertook to write for the Gesellschaft der
Musikfreunde has been mentioned. The sum was 400 florins. It was on
August 18. Four days later there was a meeting of the society at which
Landgrave von Fürstenberg reported[16] that on the written application
of Prince von Odescalchi, representing the President, Beethoven had
replied that he had long been desirous to compose a work which would
reflect honor on the society and that he would do his best to expedite
it. That seems to have been the end of the matter for the time being.
There was also during the Mödling sojourn a continuation of the
negotiations with Thomson. A Mr. Smith visited Beethoven bearing a
letter from the Scotch publisher which called out a playful rejoinder
in which Beethoven sought to turn an easy play upon German words into
French. Thomson suggested that the introductions and accompaniments
to the Scotch songs be made easier (“lighter,” in the German idiom);
they would be so, Beethoven replied, if the compensation were made more
difficult (“heavier” would have been his word had he been permitted to
use the German equivalent). As it is, Beethoven’s humor becomes rather
ponderous, as see the letter which was written in French by Beethoven
apparently without assistance:

_Vienne le 25me Maj, 1819._

_Mon cher Ami!_

_Vous ecrivés toujours facile très--je m’accomode tout mon
possible, mais--mais--mais--l’honorare pourroit pourtant être
plus difficile, ou plus-tôt pesante!!!!! Votre ami Mosieur Smith
m’a fait grand plaisir a cause de sa visite chez moi--en Hâte,
je vous assure, que je serais toujours avec plaisir a votres
services--comme j’ai a present votre Addresse par Mr. Smith, je
serai bientôt en Etat de vous écrire plus ample--l’honorare pour un
Théme avec variations j’ai fixé, dans ma derniere letter à vous par
Messieurs le Friess, a moien dix ducats en or, C’est, je vous jure
malgre cela seulement par complaisance pour vous, puisque je n’ais
pas besoin, de me méler avec de telles petites choses, mais il
faut toujours pourtant perdre du temps avec de telles bagatelles,
et l’honneur ne permit pas, de dire a quelqu’un, ce qu’on en
gagne,--je vous souhaite toujours le bon gout pour la vrai Musique
et si vous cries facile--je crierai difficile pour facile!!!!_

Thomson indorsed on this letter: “25 May, 1819. Beethoven. Some
pleasantry on my repeated requests to make his Symphs and accompgnts.
to our National Airs Easy, sent by Mr. John Smith of Glasg.” Another
British commission was offered him about the same time. There are
two entries in a Conversation Book, apparently in the handwriting of
Schindler:

The Englishman brought me your letter yesterday and evening
before last I received another one for you through Fries. Another
commission was brought by the other Englishman, the friend of
Smith. A Mr. Donaldson in Edinburgh wants to know if you will not
write a Trio for 3 pianofortes and in the style of your Quintet in
E-flat. He wants to announce it as his property--The remuneration
which you demand is to be paid to you in any way you may
select--All the parts of the Trio must be obbligato. If you do not,
write to Donaldson in Edinburgh direct. These Englishmen speak of
nothing else than their wish to have you come to England--they give
assurance that if you come for a single winter to England, Scotland
and Ireland, you will earn so much that you can live the rest of
your life on the interest.

And again:

The gentleman is going to write to
Donaldson--Edinburgh--to-day--the answer can be here in 4 weeks and
the gentleman can be here that long. Tell him how much you want,
when it might be finished and how you want the payment made. He
is very desirous to have a composition from you and there is no
possibility of its being left on your hands--Moreover it is a great
work. If you get 40 ducats for the Sonata he can doubtless pay 100.
By that time the answer may be here from Edinburgh.

Great Britain’s monetary reward, had Beethoven accepted all its
invitations, would no doubt have been all that the friend of “Mr.
Donaldson of Edinburgh” stated and in proportion would have been the
appreciation which Beethoven would have found at the hands of the
English professional musicians, amateurs and musical laity.

Pathetic and diverting are the incidents which Karl Friedrich
Zelter relates in letters to Goethe of his attempts to form a
closer acquaintance with Beethoven. Zelter came to Vienna in July.
He says that he wanted to call upon Beethoven, but he was in the
country--nobody knew where. This in his first letter which mentions the
subject. On August 16 he writes:

It is said that he is intolerably _maussade_. Some say that he is a
lunatic. It is easy to talk. God forgive us all our sins! The poor
man is reported as being totally deaf. Now I know what it means to
see all this digital manipulation around me while my fingers are
becoming useless one after the other. Lately Beethoven went into an
eating-house; he sat himself down to a table and lost himself in
thought. After an hour he calls the waiter. “What do I owe?” “The
gentleman has not eaten anything yet” “What shall I bring?” “Bring
anything you please, but let me alone!”

[Sidenote: MEETING BETWEEN BEETHOVEN AND ZELTER]

Zelter stays in Vienna from July to September, but sees nothing of
Beethoven. Then, on September 12, he sets out with Steiner to visit
the master at Mödling. On the road they meet Beethoven, who is on his
way to the city. Leaving their carriages they embrace each other, but
conversation with a deaf man not being practicable on the highway
they separate after agreeing to meet at Steiner’s at 4 o’clock in the
afternoon. Zelter was moved almost to tears. After a hurried meal he
and Steiner hastened back to Vienna. Let him relate the rest:

After eating we drove back to Vienna at once. Full as a badger
and tired as a dog I lie down and sleep away the time, sleep so
soundly that not a thing enters my mind. Then I go to the theatre
and when I see Beethoven there I feel as if I had been struck by
lightning. The same thing happens to him at sight of me, and this
is not the place for explanations with a deaf man. Now comes the
point: In spite of the things of which Beethoven is accused justly
or unjustly, he enjoys a popular respect such as is bestowed only
upon the most excellent. Steiner had given it out that Beethoven
would appear in his little office, which will hold only six or
eight persons, for the first time in person at 4 o’clock, and
invited guests so generously that in a room crowded to the street,
half a hundred brilliant people waited in vain. I did not get an
explanation till next day, when I received a letter from Beethoven
in which he begged my pardon, for he, like me, had passed the time
set for the meeting in blissful sleep.

Zelter’s letter calls for a slight rectification. It was not the
next day but four days later that Beethoven wrote him the letter of
explanation, and Zelter’s statement that Beethoven had overslept
himself as he had done was pure assumption--unless he learned it from
another source. Beethoven wrote:

Highly respected Sir:

It is my fault that you were lately besmeared (_angeschmiert_,
that is, deceived, cheated) as we say here, by me. Unforeseen
circumstances robbed me of the pleasure of passing a few lovely and
enjoyable hours, which would have been profitable to art, with you.
I hear that you are already leaving Vienna day after to-morrow. My
country life, to which I am forced by my poor health, is, however,
not as beneficial as usual to me this year. It may be that I shall
come in again day after to-morrow and if you are not already gone
in the afternoon I hope to tell you by word of mouth with true
cordiality how much I esteem you and desire your friendship (to be
near to you).

The autograph of this letter contains what appears to be either a
transcript or a draft of a letter which Zelter either sent or planned
to send to Beethoven. In view of the fact that it shows a different
feeling towards the great composer than that formerly entertained by
the teacher of Mendelssohn, it is given here:

To see once more, face to face, in this life the man who brings
joy and edification to so many good people, among whom I of course
am glad to count myself--this was the purpose, worthy friend, for
which I wished to visit you at Mödlingen. You met me, and my aim
was at least not wholly frustrated, for I saw your face. I know of
the infirmity which burdens you and you have my sympathy, for I
am similarly afflicted. On the day after to-morrow I go from here
to resume my labors, but I shall never cease to hold you in high
respect and to love you.

[Sidenote: A COMPOSITION BY ARCHDUKE RUDOLPH]

Friedrich Schneider, of Dessau, visited Vienna in the fall of the year
and caused a sensation by his organ-playing. He reported that Beethoven
had received him graciously and that he, in turn, had heard the master
play the pianoforte, his improvisation being the most marvellous thing
he had ever listened to. In August, Johann van Beethoven bought an
estate near Gneixendorf. This brought the brothers together in Vienna
during the winter. Johann was the “landowner” of a familiar story, and
Beethoven, the “brain owner,” seemed at this time disposed to emulate
him. At least he read advertisements of houses for sale in Mödling
before the day set for the sale and advised him in the premises. In
the same letter[17] he advises Steiner to publish a set of variations
composed by the Archduke. “I have mentioned your name in the matter,
inasmuch as I do not believe that you will lose anything by the
transaction, and it is always honorable to print something by such a
_Principe Professore_.” The variations were on a theme composed by
Beethoven and given to his imperial pupil as a lesson, and had called
out the obsequious remarks which may be read in the New Year’s letter
to the Archduke. His remark to Steiner is explained by the fact that on
August 31 he had written to the Archduke as follows:

As regards the masterly variations of Y. I. H. I think they might
be published under the following title, namely:

Theme, or Task
set by L. v. Beeth.
forty times varied
and dedicated to his teacher
by the Most Serene Author.

There are so many requests for them, and eventually this honorable
work will reach the public in garbled copies. Y. I. H. will
yourself not be able to avoid presenting copies here and there;
therefore, in the name of God, among the many consecrations which
Y. I. H. is receiving and of which the world is being informed, let
the consecration of Apollo (or the Christian Cäcilia) also be made
known. True, Y. I. H. may accuse me of vanity; but I can assure you
that although this dedication is precious to me and I am really
proud of it, this is not at all my aim. 3 publishers have appealed
for it, Artaria, Steiner and a third whose name does not occur
to me. To which of the first two shall the Variations be given?
On this point I await the commands of Y. I. H. Both of them have
offered to print the variations at _their own cost_. The question
now is whether Y. I. H. is _satisfied with the title_? To the
question whether or not the variations ought to be published, Y. I.
H. ought to close your eyes; if it is done, Y. I. H. may call it a
misfortune; but _the world will think the contrary_.

Steiner printed the archducal work in the seventh number of his
“Musical Museum” under a slightly changed title, viz.: “Theme
(_Aufgabe_) composed by Ludwig van Beethoven, varied forty times and
dedicated to the author by his pupil R[udolph], A[rch-]D[uke].”[18]
Other evidences of Beethoven’s interest in Archduke Rudolph’s studies
in composition are to be noted about this time. On July 29 he wrote
to his pupil from Mödling, sending him three poems and asking him
to select one for composition, encouraging him in these words: “The
Austrians now know already that the spirit of Apollo has newly awakened
in the Imperial family. From all quarters I receive requests for
something. The proprietor of the _Modezeitung_ will appeal to Y. I. H.
in writing. I hope I _shall not be accused of bribery--at Court and not
a courtier_, what possibilities??!!!” In this letter, however, there
are words of vaster import, as showing Beethoven’s attitude towards
musical evolution. We quote:

... but _freedom_, _progress_, is the aim in the world of art as
in the whole great universe, and even if we moderns are not so far
advanced in sound technique (_Festigkeit_) as our _forefathers_,
refinement in manners has opened many things to us. My exalted
pupil in music, already a fellow-contestant for the laurel of fame,
must not subject himself to the accusation of _onesidedness_,--_et
iterum venturus judicare vivos et mortuos_.[19]

[Sidenote: A PAINTER’S PRESENCE FORGOTTEN]

A number of incidents in Beethoven’s life may now be passed in hurried
chronological review: On October 1, he was made an honorary member of
the Mercantile Association (_Kaufmännischer Verein_) in Vienna. In the
fall Ferdinand Schimon (1797-1852), who was musician and opera-singer
as well as painter, painted the portrait which afterward came into
the possession of Schindler, and was engraved by Eduard Eichers for
Schindler’s biography.[20] Schimon had obtained permission through
Schindler to set up his easel in the chamber adjoining Beethoven’s
workroom, the composer having resolutely refused a sitting because he
was busy on the _Credo_ of the mass. From this point of vantage he made
his studies and had finished them all but the eyes--the most striking
feature in the portrait. Out of this dilemma Beethoven unconsciously
helped him. He had evidently been impressed with the discretion, or
independence, of the young artist who came without a “good morning” and
went without a “good evening,” and invited him to coffee. Thus Schimon
had ample opportunity to supply the one deficiency in his sketches.

At the end of October, Beethoven returned to Vienna from Mödling,
taking lodging this time at No. 16 Josephstädter Glacis, opposite the
Auersberg Palace and near the Blöchlinger Institute where Karl was
studying. The guardianship matter soon occupied his attention; spells
of indisposition tormented him; and financial distress so threatened
him that he attempted to negotiate a loan from the banker Hennickstein,
and borrowed 750 florins from Steiner.[21] Countess Erdödy was in
Vienna at the end of the year and he sent her a note on December 19,
promising to visit her soon and scratching down a musical phrase which
he afterwards erased to make of it the New Year canon: “Glück, Glück
zum neuen Jahr.”

It is remarkable that Beethoven, under the circumstances which have
been set forth in this chapter, could continue his labors on the Mass
which were his principal occupation during the year; it was but another
proof of the absorbing possession which the composition of a great work
took of him when once fairly begun. So diligently did he apply himself
that he had hopes not only of finishing it in time for the installation
of the Archduke as Archbishop of Olmütz, but wrote to Ries on November
10 that he had already nearly completed it and would like to know what
could be done with it in London. To Schindler, however, in expressing
a doubt that he would have it done in time for the ceremonial, he said
that every movement had taken on larger dimensions than had originally
been contemplated. Schindler says also that when the day came, not
one of the movements was finished in the eyes of the composer; yet he
alleges that Beethoven brought the completed _Credo_ with him when
he came back to Vienna from Mödling. There is this to be added to
these statements: A pocket sketchbook used in 1820 (it is now in the
Beethoven House at Bonn) shows some sketches for the _Credo_; and
there are memoranda for the same movement in a Conversation Book used
near the close of the year. That the _Gloria_ had received its final
shape is a fair deduction from a Conversation Book of the same period.
Bernard (presumably) writes:

It was decided yesterday that you give a concert either on
Christmas or some other day. Count Stadion will give the use of the
room, and Schick, Czerny and Janitschek will care for the rest. The
programme is to include a symphony, the _Gloria_ from your mass,
the new Sonata played by you and a grand final chorus. All your
works. 4,000 florins are guaranteed. Only one movement of the mass
is to be performed.

The project is mentioned again by another friend, and Beethoven
remarks: “It is too late for Christmas, but it might be possible in
Lent.” That he worked occasionally on the Ninth Symphony, especially
in the early part of the year, has already been said. Thomson’s
commissions occupied some of his time, as well as a project to
extend his labors on folksongs into a wider field. The second set of
Variations on folksong themes which was published as Op. 107 in 1820,
must be assigned, at least in part, to this year. He also, as Schindler
tells us, composed a set of waltzes for a band of seven men who played
at an inn in the valley of the Brühl near Mödling, and wrote out the
parts for the different instruments. These waltzes have disappeared;
Schindler tried in vain to find them a few years later. The canon
“Glück zum neuen Jahr” was composed for Countess Erdödy on the last day
of December, if A. Fuchs, who says that he copied it from the original
manuscript, is correct. He also wrote a canon for Steiner in the
summer, as appears from a conversation recorded in a book of March 20,
1820. An unidentified hand writes:

Last summer you sent a _canon infinitus a due_ to Steiner from
Mödling

[Illustration]

Nobody has solved it, but I have solved it. The second voice enters
on the second:

[Illustration:

it is infinite.
Go to the devil[22]
God protect you
was the text.
]

On September 21 he wrote a canon to the words “Glaube und hoffe”
for the younger Schlesinger, afterwards publisher in Paris, who
was a visitor in Vienna from Berlin at the time, as Beethoven’s
inscription on the autograph shows.[23]

[Sidenote: PUBLICATIONS OF THE YEAR 1819]

The publications of the year 1819 were (1) Two Sonatas for Pianoforte
and Violoncello, Op. 102, dedicated to Countess Erdödy, by Artaria in
Vienna (they had already been published by Simrock); (2) The Quintet
in C minor, Op. 104, arranged from the Trio, Op. 1, No. 3; (3) Themes
and Variations on Motives from Folksongs, for Pianoforte and Flute or
Violin, Op. 105, by Artaria; Pianoforte Sonata in B-flat, Op. 106,
dedicated to Archduke Rudolph, by Artaria.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] He had not been removed, but only temporarily suspended; he
retained the supervision of the boy’s education and at a later period
voluntarily resigned the guardianship for a time.

[2] See Kalischer-Shedlock, Vol. II. p. 124 _et seq._ The letter was
dated erroneously February 1, 1818, instead of 1819.

[3] These citations are from the Conversation Books.

[4] Landshut University. It was afterward removed to Munich.

[5] As a matter of fact the boy was with Kudlich after this and
remained there until Beethoven went to Mödling. At the time of this
consultation he was with his mother. Kudlich was instructed not to
permit any communication between him and his mother.

[6] It is undated, but to judge by its contents and the sequence of
events was written in May. See Kalischer-Shedlock, Vol. II, p. 134.

[7] Kalischer-Shedlock, Vol. II, p. 149.

[8] Kalischer-Shedlock, Vol. II, p. 145.

[9] That he was not always scrupulous in preserving their integrity
when they offered evidence in contradiction of his printed statements
is the conviction of this editor for reasons which will appear later.

[10] Apparently in reply to a question put by Beethoven an unidentified
hand writes: “Poor stuff,--empty--totally ineffective--your theme was
in bad hands; with much monotony he made 15 or 20 variations and put
a cadenza (_fermate_) in every one, you may imagine what we had to
endure--he has fallen off greatly and looks too old to entertain with
his acrobatics on the violin.”

Thayer’s industry in the gathering and ordering of material for this
biography, let it be remarked here in grateful tribute, is illustrated
in the fact that he made practically a complete transcript of the
Conversation Books, laboriously deciphering the frequently hieroglyphic
scrawls, and compiled a mass of supplementary material for the purpose
of fixing the chronological order of the conversations. The dates of
all concerts and other public events alluded to were established by the
examination of newspapers and other contemporaneous records and the
utility of the biographical material greatly enhanced.

[11] Madame Pessiak-Schmerling, a daughter of Nanni, recounted this
incident twice in the letters to Thayer. Madame Pessiak possessed a
copy of the song. Her mother had jealously preserved the original,
but, together with Beethoven’s letters to Giannatasio, it was stolen.
In 1861 Thayer found song and letters among the autographs owned by
William Witt of the firm of Ewer and Co. in London, and obtained copies
of them, but Thayer’s copy of the song was not found by this Editor
among the posthumous papers of the author when he examined them in
order to set aside the needful material for the completion of this
biography. The music of Miss Nanni’s hymeneal ode was forty years later
put to a right royal use. Transposed from C to A major it was published
for the first time by Ewer and Co. as a setting to English words on
the occasion of the marriage of Victoria, eldest daughter of Queen
Victoria, to Frederick William of Prussia (afterwards Emperor Frederick
III) on January 25, 1858. The title of this publication, which is now
out of print, was “The Wedding Song, written and by gracious permission
dedicated to Her Royal Highness Victoria, Princess Royal, on her
Wedding Day, by John Oxenford. The music composed by L. van Beethoven.
Posthumous Work.” The inscription on the original manuscript, according
to Thayer, was “Am 14ten Jenner 1819--für F. v. Giannatasio de Rio von
L. v. Beethoven.”

At the Editor’s request Mr. J. S. Shedlock, in 1912, kindly made an
investigation and reported that so far as could be learned from the
public records the song had no place in the wedding ceremonies in 1858.
Messrs. Novello and Co. most courteously brought forth the old plates
from their vaults and had a “pull” of them made for this Editor’s use.
The music can not be said to have any other than a curious interest. A
single stanza will suffice to disclose the quality of Mr. Oxenford’s
hymeneal ode:

“Hail, Royal Pair, by love united;
With ev’ry earthly blessing crown’d;
A people lifts its voice delighted,
And distant nations hear the sound.
All hearts are now with gladness swelling,
All tongues are now of rapture telling,
A day of heartfelt joy is found!”

[12] Dr. F. Keesbacher, who published a history of the Laibach
Philharmonic Society in 1862, thought that this was the composition
sent by Beethoven; but the “Pastoral” Symphony had been published
nearly ten years before--by Breitkopf and Härtel in May, 1809.

[13] On the blank leaves of an Almanac for 1819, such as used to be
bound in those useful household publications for the reception of
memoranda, Beethoven notes: “Came to Mödling, May 12.!!! _Miser sum
pauper_....” “On May 14 the housemaid in Mr. came, to receive 6 florins
a month.... On 29th May Dr. Hasenöhrl made his 3rd visit to K. Tuesday
on the 22nd of June my nephew entered the institute of Mr. Blöchlinger
at monthly payments in advance of 75 florins _W. W._ Began to take the
baths here regularly (?) on 28th Monday, for the first (?) time daily.”
Schindler adds: “On July 20 gave notice to the housekeeper.”

[14] Kalischer-Shedlock, Vol. II. pp. 138 and 139.

[15] In his draft for this chapter Thayer wrote: “In the hope of
obtaining further particulars Horsalka’s attention was directed to
this passage in the copy now before the writer. The result is written
on the margin in Herr Luib’s hand: ‘Horsalka knows nothing of this’.
This incident is doubtless true, but that Horsalka should not have
remembered it if he was present, is incredible. Schindler’s queer
memory has again proved treacherous in regard to his companion.”

[16] So Pohl, who wrote a history of the “Gesellschaft,” informed
Thayer in a note.

[17] Kalischer-Shedlock, II, p. 144.

[18] The theme was the melody written for a song beginning “O Hoffnung,
du stählst die Herzen, vertreibst die Schmerzen,” from Tiedge’s
“Urania.” Nohl, without giving an authority, quotes an inscription on
the autograph as follows: “Composed in the spring of 1818 by L. v.
Beethoven _in doloribus_ for H. Imp. Highness the Archduke Rudolph.”
Thayer knows nothing about such an inscription, but it does not look
like an invention. In one of the Conversation Books somebody (Dr.
Deiters opines it was Peters) writes: “Fräulein Spitzenberger played
the 40 variations by the Archduke for me yesterday. I know nothing
about it, but it seems to me that they were pretty extensively
corrected by you. The critics insist on the same thing.” We do not
know what reply Beethoven made and it is a matter of small moment. The
same comment has been called out by many a royal composition since;
it was Brahms who said: “Never criticize the composition of a Royal
Highness;--you do not know who may have written it!” In justice to
Archduke Rudolph, however, it deserves to be mentioned that a set of
variations on a melody from Rossini’s “Zelmira” composed by him shows
pencil corrections in the hand of Beethoven and they are few and
trifling.

[19] There is a vagueness in this passage, and especially in the words
which precede it, which has exercised the minds of Köchel, Nohl and
Deiters; but it is the opinion of the English Editor that the meaning
has been reproduced in the above translation. As the reader may,
however, wish to form his own opinion in the matter, which is certainly
most interesting, the context is given in the original and what might
be described as an expository rendering into English: _Ich war in
Wien, um aus der Bibliothek I. K. H. das mir Tauglichste auszusuchen.
Die Hauptabsicht ist das geschwinde Treffen und mit der bessern
Kunst-Vereinigung, wobei aber practische Absichten Ausnahmen machen,
wofür die Alten zwar doppelt dienen, indem meistens reeller Kunstwerth
(Genie hat doch nur der deutsche Händel und Seb. Bach gehabt) allein
Freiheit, etc._, that is: “I was in Vienna to seek out some things best
suited to my purpose. What is chiefly needed is a quick recognition of
the essential coupled with a better union of the arts [i. e., poetry
and music] in respect of which practical considerations sometimes
compel an exception, as we may learn in a twofold way from the old
composers, where we find chiefly stress laid upon the artistically
valuable (among them only the German Handel and Seb. Bach had genius)
but freedom, etc.” Beethoven, presumably, was following the injunction
noted in the _Tagebuch_ and, for the purposes of the work which then
engrossed him, was consulting authorities on ecclesiastical music.
That his mind was full of his Mass is indicated by the somewhat
irrelevant quotation from the text of the _Credo_. Was he not essaying
a union between the technical perfection of the old masters and a more
truthful, or literal, illustration of the missal text, wherefor freedom
was necessary?

[20] The picture is now preserved among the rest of the relics which
Schindler deposited in Berlin.

[21] See Kalischer-Shedlock, II, p. 151.

[22] “Hol Euch der Teufel! B’hüt Euch Gott!”

[23] Marx published it for the first time in _facsimile_ in the
appendix of Vol. II of his biography of Beethoven. In the Collected
Works it appears on page 275, Series 25.

Chapter II

The Years 1820 and 1821--End of the Guardianship Litigation--A
Costly Victory--E. T. A. Hoffmann--Financial Troubles--Adagios and
English Hymn-tunes--Arrested as a Vagrant--Negotiations for the
Mass in D--The Last Pianoforte Sonatas.

[Sidenote: DEPARTURE OF OLD FRIENDS]

Almost involuntarily, in passing in review the incidents of the year
whose story has just been told and projecting a glance into the
near future, the question arises: Where, in these moments of doubt,
ill-health, trial, vexation of spirit and torment of body were the
old friends of Beethoven who in the earlier years had stood by him
faithfully and lovingly? Where was Stephan von Breuning? Alas! he
seems to have been an early sacrifice to Beethoven’s obstinate course
in respect of his nephew. Schindler says that he had advised against
the adoption of the boy and thus wounded Beethoven in his most
sensitive part. The temporary estrangement began in 1817. Some others
of the old friends may have been rebuffed in like manner; some, like
the faithful seneschal, Zmeskall, were ill; some were absent from
Vienna--Count Brunswick, Schuppanzigh; some were dead; in some the
flames of friendship may have died down because there was so little
in Beethoven’s public life to challenge their sympathy and support.
Count Lichnowsky has dropped out of the narrative and does not appear
for some years. What had happened to the ardent friend of the youthful
days, Count Waldstein? There is no answer. Once a Conversation Book
awakens curiosity and a hope. Somebody warns Beethoven in a public
place not to speak so loud, as everybody is listening. “Count Waldstein
is sitting near; where does he live?” Beethoven’s answer is unrecorded
and thus passes the only opportunity which the known material offers
from which might have been learned what caused the death of that
beautiful friendship. Bernard, Schindler, Oliva, Peters and Bach were
near to him, and the last was of incalculable value to him in his
great trial. But could they replace those who were gone?

Beethoven was become a lonely man--an enforced seeker of solitude. No
doubt many who would have been glad to give him their friendship were
deterred by the wide-spread reports of his suspicious, unapproachable,
almost repellant nature. But a miracle happens. Driven in upon
himself by the forces which seem to have been arrayed against
him, introspection opens wider and wider to him the doors of that
imagination which in its creative function, as Ruskin tells us, is “an
eminent beholder of things when and where they are not; a seer that is,
in the prophetic sense, calling the things that are not as though they
were; and for ever delighting to dwell on that which is not tangibly
present.” Now he proclaims a new evangel, illustrates a higher union of
beauty and truthfulness of expression, exalts art till it enters the
realm of religion.

In the _Tagebuch_ there stands a bold inscription written in February
of the year 1820: “The moral law in us, and the starry sky above
us--Kant.”[24] This and two other citations, the first of which
Beethoven surely culled from some book, also deserve to be set down
here as mottoes applicable to the creative work which occupied his mind
during the year and thereafter:

’Tis said that art is long and life is fleeting:--
Nay; life is long and brief the span of art!
If e’er her breath vouchsafes with gods a meeting,
A moment’s favor ’tis of which we’ve had a part.

The world is a king and desires flattery in return for favor; but
true art is perverse and will not submit to the mould of flattery.
Famous artists always labor under an embarrassment;--therefore,
first works are the best, though they may have sprung from dark
ground.

We can only record the fact that Beethoven began the year 1820, as
he had begun its immediate predecessor, by sending a New Year’s
greeting to the august pupil who was now almost continually in his
mind--Archduke Rudolph, soon to be Archbishop and Cardinal[25]--before
taking up the story of the incubus which oppressed the composer’s
mind, the clog which impeded his creative activities during much of
the year--the legal proceedings concerning the guardianship of nephew
Karl. Fortunately for the tinge of these pages the end is not distant.

Two applications made by Beethoven to the Court of Magistrates had been
denied and he now asked for a review of these decisions by the Court
of Appeals. The action of the Magistracy had grievously pained him, so
he informed the superior tribunal, and not only had his rights been
set aside, but no regard had been shown for the welfare of his nephew.
Against this he now sought relief, and he set forth his grievances: (1)
He was testamentary appointee and the _Landrecht_ had confirmed him and
excluded the mother; circumstances compelling his absence from Vienna,
he had arranged that Herr Nussböck should be appointed guardian _ad
interim_; back permanently in the city, his nephew’s welfare required
that he resume the guardianship; (2) The higher education which his
nephew’s talents demanded neither the mother nor Nussböck could
direct--the former because she was a woman and had conducted herself in
a manner which had led the _Landrecht_ to exclude her, Nussböck because
he was too much occupied with his duties as Municipal Sequestrator and,
having been no more than a paper-maker, he did not possess the insight
and judgment essential to the scientific education of the ward. (3)
Having no child of his own, his hopes were set on the boy, who was
unusually talented, yet he had been told that he had been held back
a year in his studies and that owing to a lack of funds he was to be
taken from the institution in which he had been placed and given in the
care of his mother; by her mismanagement the boy would be sacrificed,
it being the aim of the mother to expend his share of the pension
money on herself. He had declared to the Magistracy his willingness
to defray the costs at the institute and also to engage other masters
for the boy. Being “somewhat hard of hearing” communication with
him was difficult and therefore he had asked that a co-guardian
be appointed in the person of Herr Peters, Prince Lobkowitzsian
Councillor, whose knowledge and moral character would assure such a
training and education as were justified by the boy’s capacity. “I know
of no more sacred duty than the care and education of a child,” he
observes. He would offer no objection to the mother’s having a “sort of
joint-guardianship,” but its duties and privileges should be limited to
her visiting him and learning what plans were making for his education;
to permit more would be to compass the ruin of the boy.[26]

[Sidenote: AN APPEAL TO A HIGHER COURT]

This petition was filed on January 7, 1820; three days later the
Appellate Court commanded the Magistracy to file a report of the
proceedings had before it, together with all minutes and documents. The
Magistracy complied on February 5, citing its decision of September 17,
1819, and defending its action on the grounds that (a) Beethoven, owing
to his deafness and his hatred of the mother of the ward, was incapable
of acting as guardian; (b) the guardianship belonged to the mother by
right of law; (c) the commission of an act of infidelity against her
husband in 1811, for which she had suffered punishment, was no longer a
bar; (d) none of the alleged “injurious disturbances and interferences”
had been definitely set forth or proven:

If under injurious disturbances we are to understand that the
mother is desirous to see her child once every 14 days or 4 weeks,
or to convince herself about the wear and cleanliness of his
clothing, or to learn of his conduct toward his teachers, these can
appear injurious only in the eyes of the appellant; the rest of the
world, however, would find it amiss in a mother if she made inquiry
concerning her child only once a fortnight or month.

Answering the second charge, the magistrates urged that the appellant
seemed to ask of the mother and other guardian that they themselves
educate the boy in the sciences. For this not even the appellant was
fitted, at least he had not demonstrated such a fitness; he had left
the preparation for the higher studies to others and this the mother
and guardian could also do, having, indeed, a better plan, which was to
send the boy to the R. I. Convict, where he would surely make better
progress at smaller expense. _Ad tertium_, the failure of the boy to
advance in his classes could not be laid to the mother or guardian, but
must be charged against the appellant, who had taken the boy away from
his studies for the university after two months, kept him at home three
months, and sent him to another institution of learning at the end of
June; naturally enough he lost a school year.

The Court of Appeals demanded a more explicit report, which the
Magistracy filed on February 28, taking advantage of the opportunity to
review the proceedings had before the _Landrecht_ from the beginning,
and to make severe strictures on the conduct of Beethoven in filing
an exhibit (F) with his petition in support of which no evidence was
offered, though because of it the _Landrecht_ was asked to exclude the
mother from the guardianship which belonged to her under the law. Again
we quote:

This exclusion can have nothing for its foundation except the
misdemeanor of which the mother was guilty in 1811, for all the
rest contained in appellant’s exhibit F is unproven chatter to
which the _Landrecht_ could give no consideration, but which gives
speaking proof of how passionately and inimically the appellant
has always acted, and still acts, towards the mother, how little
he recks of tearing open wounds that were healed, since after
having endured punishment she stood rehabilitated; and yet he
reproaches her with a transgression for which she had atoned years
before, which had been pardoned by the injured husband himself who
petitioned for leniency in her sentence and who had declared her
capable and fit for the guardianship of his son in his last will
and testament, directing that the son be not taken away from his
mother. Regardless of this the appellant last year, certainly not
in the interest of the boy’s welfare, inasmuch as we have excellent
educational institutions here, but only to pain the mother, to
tear the heart out of her bosom, attempted to send him out of the
country to Landshut. Fortunately the government authorities, acting
on information derived from this court, frustrated the plan by
refusing a passport.

[Sidenote: DEPRAVITY OF KARL’S MOTHER]

Let us try now to take a dispassionate view of the case as thus far
presented in the pleadings and documents. Not only the law of nature
but the laws of the land justified the mother in asserting her right
to look after the physical well-being of her child and seeking to
enforce it. Dr. Bach seems to have impressed that fact upon Beethoven,
wherefore he declares his willingness in the bill of appeal to
associate her with himself in the guardianship to that extent. That the
Magistrates displayed unusual, not to say unjudicial zeal in her behalf
while defending their own course is indubitable; but we are in no
position to judge of the propriety of their course, which seems to have
been in harmony with the judicial procedure of the place and period,
least of all to condemn them, so long as it was permitted them so to
do, for having made a stout resistance when their acts were impugned
in the appeal to the higher court. The “Exhibit F,” filed in the
proceedings before the _Landrecht_, has not been found and its contents
can only be guessed at from the allusions to it in the documents.
Obviously it contained aspersions on the moral character of Madame van
Beethoven, and it may have been, nay, probably was, true that they were
unsupported by evidence and therefore undeserving of consideration in
a court either of law or equity. Perhaps they were not susceptible of
legal proof. It has been thought that Beethoven felt some hesitancy in
flaunting evidence of his sister-in-law’s infamy in the face of the
world,[27] but he certainly showed no disposition to spare her in his
letters, nor did he hesitate to accuse her of unmentionable things
by innuendo. In a Conversation Book of this year (1820) he writes of
her that she was “born for intrigue, accomplished in deceit, mistress
of all the arts of dissimulation.” On the other hand, it is singular
that the Magistrates in their final effort to justify their course
have nothing to say about the present moral standing of the woman
whose legal and natural rights they claimed to be upholding. Were they
in ignorance of what we now know, namely, that her conduct had not
only been reprehensible in 1811 (though condoned by her husband) but
continued so after her husband’s death? Schindler says that she gave
birth to a child while the case was pending, and that is confirmed by
a statement of Nephew Karl’s widow,[28] that in her old age Madame van
Beethoven lived in Baden with this illegitimate daughter, who was also
a dissolute woman.

But there are many anomalous things to the studious mind in the
proceedings which we are reporting, which differ greatly from anything
which could happen in a court of chancery or probate in Great Britain
or America to-day. It is certainly repugnant to our present legal
ethics that having filed a petition to reverse the action of one
court Beethoven should not only have written private letters to a
judge of the court of review, pleading his case on personal grounds,
but that his counsel should have advised him to visit members of the
higher court to present arguments in his behalf. But, no doubt, this
was consistent with the customs of Austria a century ago; and it is
what happened. Beethoven writes to Karl Winter, an _Appellationsrat_,
and his lawyer tells him to engage him and one of his colleagues,
Schmerling, in conversation on the subject. Perhaps Winter himself
questioned the propriety of the proceeding, for in a Conversation Book
somebody, who had evidently acted as messenger in the delivery of
the letter, writes: “I gave it to Herr v. Winter; he kept me waiting
and then said that he could give no answer, nor involve himself in a
correspondence.” The letter in question was written on March 6. In it
Beethoven says that he had prepared a memorial which he would place in
his hands in a few days. From the outline given it is plain that the
memorial contained a review of the case since the death of Beethoven’s
brother. It had been prepared, said Beethoven, “believing that I
owed it to myself to expose the falsity of the many slanders which
have been uttered against me and to lay bare the intrigues of Madame
van Beethoven against me to the injury of her own child, as also to
place in its proper light the conduct of the Magistrates’ Court.” He
charges that the Magistrates had summoned the widow and her son to a
hearing without his knowledge and, as his nephew had told him, he had
been urged and led on by his mother to make false accusations against
him. He had also forwarded a document which proved the wavering and
partisan conduct of the Magistrates. He repeats the charge about his
nephew’s failure to advance in his studies and adds that the boy had
had a hemorrhage which, had he not been on hand, might almost have cost
him his life. These things were not attributable to Herr Tuscher for
the reason that the Magistrates had given him too little support and
he could not proceed with sufficient energy--this the writer could do
in his capacity of uncle, guardian and defrayer of expenses. He asks
that if it becomes necessary he and his nephew be examined, cites his
expenditures to keep the boy two years in an educational institution,
saying that he had received nothing from the widow in nearly fourteen
months but would continue to pay the cost unselfishly in the future,
and had set apart 4,000 florins which was on deposit in bank and was to
go to his nephew on his death. Moreover, he had expectations from his
relations with the Archbishop of Olmütz, etc.

The case was prepared shrewdly, carefully and most discreetly by Dr.
Bach, who seems to have exerted an admirable influence on Beethoven
at this crisis. The nature of his advice may be learned from the
communication of Bernard in one of the recorded conversations. Bernard
is writing, and evidently giving the result of a consultation with
Dr. Bach. The Court of Appeals would ask another report from the
Magistrates and on its receipt would adjudge the case. Nussböck,
who Dr. Bach said was willing, should voluntarily retire from the
guardianship. Beethoven was asked as to the appointment of Tuscher;
had he resigned permanently or only temporarily in favor of Tuscher,
the better to accomplish the nephew’s removal from his mother? In what
manner had Tuscher abdicated, and had the Magistracy informed Beethoven
of the fact? It was necessary, said the adviser, to proceed with
moderation in all things so as to avoid the appearance of malice, and
the mother should not be assailed if it was at all avoidable, stress
being laid only on the fact that as a woman she ought not to have the
direction of the education of a boy of Karl’s age, not having the
requisite fitness. It would also be necessary for him, in case he were
asked, to state his readiness to defray the cost of the boy’s education
in the future and this, if the worst came to the worst, might be
followed by a threat to withdraw wholly from his care. Reproaches might
be made against him concerning the period when he had the boy with him,
the priests having taken to meddling in the matter, and it would be
well in the future not to take the boy to public eating-houses where he
would be observed and scandal fomented.

[Sidenote: APPOINTMENT OF A JOINT GUARDIANSHIP]

Bach seems to have advised Beethoven to visit two of the judges, Winter
and Schmerling, and himself had an interview with the boy, who told his
uncle what the advocate had questioned him about. For the nonce Karl
was on his good behavior. Blöchlinger reported favorably on his studies
to Bernard, and in a Conversation Book the boy apologized to his
uncle for some statements derogatory to him which he had made to the
Magistrates. “She promised me so many things,” he said, “that I could
not resist her; I am sorry that I was so weak at the time and beg your
forgiveness; I will not again permit myself to be led astray. I did not
know what results might follow when I told the Magistrates what I did;
but if there is another examination I will retract all the falsehoods
I uttered.” The magisterial commission which followed on March 29, had
plainly been held at the instance of the Appellate Court. Beethoven
was solemnly admonished, and in answer to questions declared: (1) that
he still demanded the guardianship of his nephew under the will and
would not relinquish his claim; (2) that he requested the appointment
of Councillor Peters as associate guardian; (3) that he demanded that
Madame van Beethoven be excluded from the guardianship as she had been
by the _Landrecht_, and (4) he reiterated his readiness to provide
financially for the care of his ward; he would accept an associate
guardian, but not a sole guardian, as he was convinced that no guardian
would care for his nephew as well as he. In insisting on a renewed
declaration on these points it is likely that the Court of Appeals
had some hope that Beethoven might voluntarily renounce or modify
his claims or the Magistrates recede from their attitude. Neither
contingency occurred, however, and on April 8 the reviewing court
issued its decree in Beethoven’s favor, he and Peters being appointed
joint guardians (_gemeinschaftliche Vormünde_), the mother and Nussböck
being deposed. The widow now played her last card:--she appealed to
the Emperor, who upheld the Court of Appeals. There was nothing for
the Magistracy to do except to notify the result of the appeals to
Beethoven, Madame van Beethoven, Peters and Nussböck. This was done on
July 24.

Beethoven had won at last. But at what a cost to himself, his art,
the world! What time, what labor, what energy had he not taken away
from his artistic creations! What had he not expended in the way of
peace of mind, of friendship, of physical comfort, of wear of brain
and nerve-force, for the privilege of keeping the boy to himself,
of watching unmolested over his physical welfare and directing his
intellectual and moral training unhindered! Surely such sacrifices,
inspired, as we know they were, by a transcendent sense of duty and
profoundest love, merited the rich reward of which he had dreamed--the
devotion of one who ought to have been all that a son could be, the
happiness of seeing the object of his love grow into a brilliant man
and a useful citizen. Was it vouchsafed him? Let us not in the midst
of his present happiness look too far into the future. Now his joy is
unbounded. He breaks into a jubilation when, in conveying the news
to Pinterics--that Pinterics who had sung the bass in “Ta, ta, ta,”
in honor of Mälzel: “Dr. Bach was my representative in this affair
and this Brook (_Bach_) was joined by the sea, lightning, thunder, a
tempest, and the magisterial brigantine suffered complete shipwreck!”
Schindler says that “his happiness over the triumph which he had
won over wickedness and trickery, but also because of the supposed
salvation from physical danger of his talented nephew, was so great
that he worked but little or not at all all summer--though this was
perhaps more apparent than real, the sketchbooks disclosing from now on
only empty pages.” A wise qualification, for though the sketchbooks may
have been empty, there is evidence enough elsewhere of hard work. Yet
the Mass was not finished, and for this unfortunate circumstance the
guardianship trial was no doubt largely to blame. To this subject we
shall return presently.

Of Peters, who was appointed joint guardian with Beethoven of the
nephew, little is known beyond what we learn from Beethoven and
Peters’s contributions to the Conversation Books. He was a tutor in
the house of Prince Lobkowitz and had been on terms of friendship with
Beethoven since 1816; his appointment by the court is a confirmation
of Beethoven’s tribute to him as a man of intellectual parts and of
good moral character. His wife had a good voice and was a great admirer
of Beethoven, who presented her with a copy of the song cycle “An die
ferne Geliebte.” A letter, once in the possession of John Ella in
London, which may be of earlier date than 1821, to which year it is,
however, most naturally assigned in view of the allusion to the “state
burden” (the nephew), runs as follows:

How are you? Are you well or ill? How is your wife? Permit me to
sing something for you:

[Illustration: Canon (Lively)

Saint Peter was a rock! St.]

[Illustration: Canon (Drawn out and dragged)

Bernardus was a Saint? Ber-]

How are your young princes? Will you be at home this afternoon at 5
o’clock? Perhaps I’ll visit you together with my _state_ burden.

[Sidenote: BAD CONDUCT OF NEPHEW KARL]

Nephew Karl remained at Blöchlinger’s institute and continued to cause
worry and anxiety to his uncle. Reports concerning his conduct and
studies were variable from different persons and at different times.
Blöchlinger complained that he needed constant supervision: “Had we
not always been strict with him, he would not be where he is now.”
A cleric declares that he was at heart not a bad child but had been
harmed by bad examples. “Karl has little feeling and in spite of the
knowledge for which he is praised he has no reasoning powers,” writes
an unidentified person in the Conversation Book, surely not to the
satisfaction of the uncle who was always setting forth his nephew’s
exceptional talent. In June somebody else (this time it may have
been Oliva) feels constrained to write: “The boy lies every time he
opens his mouth.” The “terrible occurrence” which had almost crushed
Beethoven in December, 1818, repeats itself, fortunately without such
dire results to the too sympathetic uncle: In June, instead of coming
to an oral examination, Karl ran away to his mother. Madame Blöchlinger
had to take a coach and servant and bring him back to the school; and
to get him away from Madame van Beethoven, who was disposed to keep
him in concealment, had to promise to see to it that he should not
be punished for his naughtiness. Now Blöchlinger, who says that the
presence of Madame van Beethoven “poisons the air,” wants the woman
excluded from his house and asks for a power of attorney to call in
the help of the police every time that Karl shall go to his mother,
whom he calls a “notorious strumpet,” of whose presence in his house
he must needs be ashamed. All this was told to Beethoven by Bernard,
who had learned it from Blöchlinger. Beethoven went for advice to Bach,
who told his client that it was impracticable to get a judicial writ
against the mother enjoining her from meeting her son, and impossible
to prevent secret meetings and secret correspondence. The practical
solution of the problem was to have Blöchlinger refuse to admit the
woman to his institute and compel her to see Karl at his uncle’s home.
This would serve the purpose to some extent, as the mother did not like
to meet her brother-in-law.

The enthronization of Beethoven’s imperial pupil as Archbishop of
Olmütz took place on March 20. The Mass which was to have been the
composer’s tribute was still unfinished. The reader knows why, or at
least has been provided with an opportunity to form an opinion as to
the reason. It may have been for the purpose of offering an explanation
to the new dignitary of the church, that Beethoven sought an audience
as he states in a letter of April 3. The Archducal Archbishop had gone
to Olmütz and Beethoven wants to know his plans for the immediate
future. He had heard that H. I. H. was to return to Vienna in May,
but also that he intended to be absent for a year and a half. If so,
Beethoven deplores that he has made plans for himself which are unwise.
He begs H. I. H. not to give credence to the false reports concerning
himself (Beethoven) which might reach his ears: “If Y. I. H. calls me
one of your most treasured objects, I can honestly say that Y. I. H.
is to me one of the most treasured objects in the universe. Although
I am no courtier, I believe that Y. I. H. has learned to know me well
enough to know that no cold interest, but a sincere affection, has
always attached me to yourself and inspired me; and I might well say
that Blondel was found long ago, and if no Richard is to be found in
the world for me, God will be my Richard.” He has evidently concerned
himself about the music at the court in Olmütz: “It appears to me that
my idea to maintain a quartet will certainly be the best thing to do.
If there are already productions on a large scale in Olmütz, something
admirable might arise in Moravia through a quartet.” He advises
his pupil, in case it is his purpose to return in May, to keep his
compositions till then so as to play them first to him; but if his stay
is to be longer, he will receive the compositions with the greatest
pleasure and seek to guide H. I. H. “to the highest peaks of Parnassus.”

[Sidenote: A PUNNING CANON ON HOFMANN]

A reference to himself as one who was at court yet not a courtier had
been made by Beethoven in an earlier letter. This play on words seems
to have been much in his head about this time and it is small wonder
that when an opportunity offered for the employment of the pun in a
canon it should have been embraced; in fact, it looks as if possibly he
had strained for the occasion, unless it should appear from evidence
yet to be found that “One who was named Hoffmann,” in Beethoven’s
words, was, as was long believed, the redoubtable E. T. A. Hoffmann,
who had surely deserved the tribute contained in a canon which
Beethoven wrote at this time. In the Conversation Book used in March,
1820, a strange hand writes: “In the _Phantasie-Stücke_ by Hoffmann,
you are often spoken of. Hoffmann was musical director in Bamberg; he
is now Government Councillor. Operas of his composition are performed
in Berlin.” Beethoven remarks, in writing: “Hofmann du bist kein
_Hofmann_.” Later in a conversation held at table, these words occur
twice: “Hŏfmānn ÷ sei ja kein Hōfmănn--nein ÷ ÷ ÷ ich heisse Hŏfmānn
und bin kein Hōfmănn.” These words are preceded by a measure of music,
the beginning of the canon in question. Did Beethoven thus honor the
fantastic poet, musician, novelist, essayist, singer, scene-painter and
theatrical manager who had shown such keen critical appreciation of
his symphonies? It was long a pleasure to believe so and natural, too,
until Nottebohm came with his iconoclastic evidence to the contrary.
On March 23 Beethoven had written a letter to Hoffmann, expressing his
gratification at having won the good opinion of a man gifted with such
excellent attributes as Hoffmann possessed. Had he written the canon
at this time he would surely have enclosed it in this letter and then,
since it was preserved among Hoffmann’s papers, it would have been
found and given to the world with the letter. But Beethoven kept the
canon in his mind or had a copy of it, and printed it in 1825, when B.
Schott’s Sons in Mayence asked him for a contribution to their musical
journal “Cäcilia,” which had been founded a year before. Now comes
Nottebohm with his evidence in the case. A man named Gross was once
the owner of the autograph and his son told Nottebohm that it had been
written in the Matschaker Hof, a tavern at which Beethoven was dining
at the time, and referred to a church musician named Vincenz Hoffmann,
as the informant remembered the name. Nottebohm looked through the
official lists of musicians in Vienna in the first decades of the
century; he did not find a Vincenz, but did find a Joachim Hoffmann who
might have been an acquaintance of Beethoven’s; and so he set him down
as the recipient of the composer’s tribute.[29]

In the summer of 1820, Beethoven went to Mödling again, but he did not
take the lodgings in the Harfner house for the very sufficient reason
that the proprietor had served notice on him in 1819, that he could
not have it longer on account of the noisy disturbances which had
taken place there. He took a house instead in the Babenbergerstrasse
and paid twelve florins extra for the use of a balcony which commanded
a view which was essential to his happiness. He takes the baths and
receives a visit from his nephew, who probably stays with him during
his school vacation; at any rate, the boy does not return to Vienna
until October 5, on which day the Giannatasios, making an excursion
to Mödling, meet him with Karl driving to town. There is at this time
considerable talk in the Conversation Book of publishing a complete
edition of Beethoven’s works. Bernard, probably, tells him that Steiner
is already counting on it and Schindler, who is enthusiastic over the
project, gives it as his opinion that arrangements must be made with
a Vienna publisher so as to avoid voluminous correspondence. Somebody
remarks: “Eckstein will so arrange it that you will always get all
the profits and will also publish your future works as your property.
He thinks that every fourth or fifth piece should be a new one.” The
plan appealed strongly to Beethoven, but nothing came of it at the
time, though we shall hear of it later. It was the discussion of it,
probably, by his friends which brought out a letter from Beethoven to
Haslinger, “best of Adjutants,” asking him to decide a bet. Beethoven
had wagered 10 florins that it was not true that the Steiners had
been obliged to pay Artaria 2000 florins damages for having published
Mozart’s works, which were reprinted universally.

Towards the end of October, Beethoven returned to Vienna and took
lodgings at No. 244 Hauptstrasse in the Landstrasse, “the large house
of the Augustinians” beside the church. There he was visited by Dr.
W. Chr. Müller of Bremen, a philologist and musical amateur who had
long admired Beethoven and, with the help of his “Family Concerts,”
established in 1782, had created such a cult for Beethoven’s music as
existed in no city in Germany in the second decade of the nineteenth
century--according to Schindler. Müller’s daughter Elise played the
sonatas exceptionally well and was largely instrumental with her father
in creating this cult. Müller was making an Italian tour, visited
Vienna in October and November and published an account of his meetings
with Beethoven in the “Allg. Musik. Zeit.” in 1827. In this he tells
of Beethoven’s freedom of speech at public eating-houses, where he
would criticize the Austrian government, the morals of the aristocracy,
the police, etc., without stint. The police paid no attention to his
utterances, either because they looked upon him as a harmless fantastic
or had an overwhelming respect for his artistic genius. “Hence,” says
Dr. Müller, “his opinion that nowhere was speech freer than in Vienna;
but his ideal of a political constitution was the English one.” It was
through Dr. Müller that we know somewhat of Beethoven’s views on the
subject of analytical programmes. Among the zealous promoters of the
Beethoven cult in Bremen, was a young poet named Dr. Karl Iken, editor
of the “Bremer Zeitung,” who, inspired by the _Familien-Concerte_,
conceived the idea of helping the public to an understanding of
Beethoven’s music by writing programmatic expositions of the symphonies
for perusal before the concerts. Some of his lucubrations were sent
to Beethoven by Dr. Müller, and aroused the composer’s ire. Schindler
found four of these “programmes” among Beethoven’s papers, and he gave
the world a specimen. In the Seventh Symphony, Dr. Iken professed to
see a political revolution.

[Sidenote: “PROGRAMME” FOR THE SEVENTH SYMPHONY]

The sign of revolt is given; there is a rushing and running about
of the multitude; an innocent man, or party, is surrounded,
overpowered after a struggle and haled before a legal tribunal.
Innocency weeps; the judge pronounces a harsh sentence; sympathetic
voices mingle in laments and denunciations--they are those of
widows and orphans; in the second part of the first movement the
parties have become equal in numbers and the magistrates are now
scarcely able to quiet the wild tumult. The uprising is suppressed,
but the people are not quieted; hope smiles cheeringly and suddenly
the voice of the people pronounces the decision in harmonious
agreement.... But now, in the last movement, the classes and the
masses mix in a variegated picture of unrestrained revelry. The
quality still speak aloofly in the wind-instruments,--strange
bacchantic madness in related chords--pauses, now here, now
there--now on a sunny hill, anon on flowery meadow where in merry
May all the jubilating children of nature vie with each other with
joyful voices--float past the fancy.

It is scarcely to be wondered at that such balderdash disgusted and
even enraged Beethoven. In the fall of 1819, he dictated a letter
to Müller--it has, unfortunately been lost--in which he protested
energetically against such interpretations of his music. He pointed
out, says Schindler, who wrote the letter for him, the errors to
which such writings would inevitably give rise. If expositions
were necessary, they should be confined to characterization of the
composition in general terms, which could easily and correctly be done
by any educated musician.

Beethoven’s complaints concerning his financial condition were chronic
and did not cease even in periods where extraordinary receipts make
them difficult to understand. That the lamentations in his letters
during the two years which we have in review were well-founded,
however, is no doubt true. With so engrossing a work as the “Missa
solemnis” on hand there could not have been much time for such
potboilers as he mentions and the other sources of revenue were not
many. From the records which are at hand, we know something about a
few of his monetary transactions. On October 26, 1820, he collected
300 florins on account, apparently, from Artaria and Co., through his
old friend Oliva. Shortly after his return to Vienna from the country,
he asks the same firm, from which he had borrowed 750 florins,[30] for
a further loan of 150 to save himself the necessity of selling one
of his bank shares. These shares, it will be remembered in partial
extenuation or at least explanation of some of his actions which are
scarcely compatible with his protestations of his unswerving honesty
in business transactions, had been set apart by him as his nephew’s
legacy and he clung to them as to a sacred pledge. He promises to repay
Artaria in three months and meanwhile to send him a composition in one,
two or more movements, without honorarium. An incident which shows
him in an unamiable light is connected with his financial relations
with the publisher Steiner. On December 29, 1820, Steiner wrote him a
letter which did not see the public eye until published in the “Neue
Freie Presse” newspaper of Vienna on August 17, 1900. Steiner had sent
Beethoven a dun, or at least a statement of account, and Beethoven had,
evidently, been both rude and unreasonable in his reply. We quote from
Steiner:

[Sidenote: INDEBTEDNESS TO STEINER]

I cannot rest content with your remarks concerning the account
sent you; for the cash money loaned you I have charged you only 6%
interest, while for the money which you deposited with me I paid
you 8% promptly in advance and also repaid the capital promptly.
What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander (_Was also
dem Einen recht ist, muss dem Andern billig sein_). I am not in a
position to lend money without interest. As a friend I came to your
help in need, I trusted your word of honor and believe that I have
not been importunate, nor have I plagued you in any way; wherefore
I must solemnly protest against your upbraidings. If you recall
that my loan to you was made in part 5 years ago, you will yourself
confess that I am not an urgent creditor. I would spare you even
now and wait patiently if I were not on my honor in need of cash
for my business. If I were less convinced that you are really in a
position to give me relief and able to keep your _word of honor_
I would, difficult as it would be for me, right gladly remain
patient a while longer; but when I remember that I myself returned
to you 4,000 florins, conventional coin, or 10,000 florins, Vienna
Standard, as capital 17 months ago and at your request did not
deduct the amount due me, it is doubly painful to me now to be
embarrassed because of my good will and my trust in your word of
honor. Every man knows best where the shoe pinches and I am in this
case; wherefore I conjure you again not to leave me in the lurch
and to find means to liquidate my account as soon as possible.

As for the rest I beg you to accept from me the compliments of the
season together with the request that you continue to give me your
favor and friendship. It will rejoice me if you keep your word
and honor me soon with a visit; it rejoices me more that you have
happily withstood your illness and are again restored to health.
God preserve you long in health, contentment and enjoyment, this is
the wish of your wholly devoted

S. A. Steiner.

The letter contains pencil memoranda by Beethoven. He has evidently
added together the various sums which he owes Steiner and they amount
to 2420 florins W. W. He remarks that 1300 florins was received
“probably” in 1816 or 1817; 750 florins “perhaps” in 1819; 300
florins “are debts which I assumed for Madame van Beethoven and
can be chargeable for only a few years; the 70 florins may have
been for myself in 1819. Payment may be made of 1200 florins a year
in semi-annual payments.” A further memorandum on the cover notes
Steiner’s willingness to accept payments on April 15 and October
15, 1821. The settlements seem to have been made. On April 1, 1821,
Beethoven collected 600 florins from the estate of Kinsky, being
one-half of the annuity for the year September 1820 to September 1821.
He also persuaded his friend Franz Brentano to advance him money on
the amount for which he sold the “Missa Solemnis” to Simrock in Bonn,
though he did not give him the Mass for publication in the end. But
this is a matter which can be better discussed in connection with the
incidents in the history of the compositions which fall within the
present period.

The beginning of the year 1821 found him still at his home in the
suburb Landstrasse, and, it would seem, working as hard as his health
permitted. When he went to the country for the summer he went to
Unterdöbling and thence, after September, to Baden to take a cure
prescribed by his physician, Dr. Staudenheimer. In Baden he lived
in the Rathshausgasse. He had suffered from rheumatism during the
preceding winter and now became a victim of jaundice, for which, no
doubt, he was sent to Baden, though he had gotten rid of the disease
to some extent at least by the end of August. The cure prescribed by
Staudenheimer was more severe than he could endure and, as he writes
to Franz Brentano on November 12, 1821, he had to “flee to Vienna,”
where he was more comfortable. The attack of jaundice may have been an
_arant-courier_ of the disease of the liver which brought him to the
grave six years later. He expresses a fear in a letter to the Archduke
(July 18, 1821) that it might prevent him for a long time from waiting
upon his pupil. There is the usual monetary complaint in the letter,
which concludes with: “God who knows my heart and how sacredly I
fulfill all the duties commanded by humanity, God and nature will some
day free me from this affliction.”

In 1820 the voice of an old English admirer reaches him with a request
which must have seemed strange to him. William Gardiner, as has been
told in the chapter in the first volume of this work devoted to the
compositions of the Bonn period, was one of the first proclaimers of
Beethoven’s evangel in England. He had now compiled and composed a sort
of _pasticcio_, an oratorio entitled “Judah,” piecing the work out
with original compositions where he had failed to find music written
by others which he could use. In his book “Music and Friends” (III,
377) he relates that he had hoped to get an original composition for
“Judah” in the shape of an appropriate overture, and to this end had
written a letter to Beethoven and forwarded it to Vienna through Baron
Neumann of the Austrian Embassy, who, on receiving it, had remarked
that it was doubtful if an answer would be received, as Beethoven held
no communication with the world. Gardiner’s letter was as follows:

To Louis van Beethoven.

Dear Sir:

At the house of Lady Bowater in Leicestershire in 1796, I met with
your Trio in E-flat (for Violin, Viola and Bass). Its originality
and beauty gave me inexpressible delight; indeed it was a new
sense to me. Ever since I have anxiously endeavoured to procure
your compositions as much so as the war could permit. Allow me
to present to you the first volume of my “Sacred Melodies” which
contain your divine Adagios appropriated to the British church. I
am now engaged upon a work entitled “The Oratorio of Judah” giving
a history of that peculiar people from the Jewish scriptures. The
object of this letter is to express a hope that I may induce you to
compose an Overture for this work upon which you can bring all the
force of your sublime imagination (if it please you) in the key of
D minor. For this service my friend Mr. Clementi will accept your
draft upon him for one hundred guineas.

I have the honour to be, dear Sir,
Your faithful servant
William Gardiner.

There is no date, but as “Judah” was criticized in “The Musical Review”
in 1821, it is presumable that the letter was written in 1820. Gardiner
deplores the fact that he received no reply from Beethoven, although
the Empress had thanked him for a copy of the “Sacred Melodies” which
he had sent to her. Evidently he did not realize that Beethoven was not
the man to feel complimented by having his “divine Adagios” turned into
hymn-tunes. An occurrence which may have cost Beethoven a pang was the
loss of his faithful helper Oliva, who took his passport in December,
1820, and went to St. Petersburg, where he settled as a teacher of
languages.

[Sidenote: A PORTRAIT PAINTED BY STIELER]

Another of the portraits of Beethoven which have been made familiar
by reproductions was painted in 1820, though begun in 1819. Joseph
Stieler, who enjoyed wide reputation as a portrait painter, had
come to Vienna from Munich to paint the portrait of Emperor Franz
in the latter year. He remained till some time in 1820 and made the
acquaintance of Beethoven through a letter of introduction probably
given to him by Brentano. Beethoven took a liking to him and gave
him some sittings--three, according to the testimony of the painter
himself, thus disproving Schindler’s statement that “sitting after
sitting was granted and never a complaint uttered.” On the contrary,
the Conversation Book presents the artist as pleading for a little
more time; and because Beethoven refused to sit longer, Stieler had to
exercise his imagination or memory in painting the hands. In fact, the
painting never received the finishing touches but remained, as those
who have seen it testify, “sketchy.” In March Stieler writes in the
Conversation Book: “Have you written to Frankfort that I have begun
your portrait?--You must determine the destination of the picture.
I say that I am painting it for myself.” In April Stieler asks the
question: “In what key is your mass? I want to write on the sheet:
(Mass in--)” Beethoven writes the answer: “_Missa solemnis in D_,” and
Stieler: “After it has been exhibited I shall send it to Brentano--I
thank you thousands and thousands of times for so much patience.”
Beethoven’s friends refer frequently to the picture in their written
conversations with Beethoven. One says: “That you have been painted _en
face_ is the result of more extended study of your physiognomy. This
view shows your spirit much better than a profile.” Schindler writes
that he prefers the portrait by Schimon: “There is more character
in it--all agree on that--You were very well two years ago; now you
are always ailing.” J. Czerny writes: “We were just talking about
your portrait. Oliva thinks you are well hit off.” The artist visits
Beethoven again at Mödling in July and writes: “Before the exhibition
I shall paint your portrait again, but full life-size. Your head makes
an excellent effect full face, and it was so appropriate because Haydn
was on one side and Mozart on the other.” Stieler dated the canvass
“1819,” but this can only refer to the time when it was begun. It
remained for a while in the possession of the family of the painter,
then passed through several hands by purchase until it reached those of
Countess Sauerma in Berlin, in whose possession it was when Frimmel
and Kalischer inspected it for purposes of description. Schindler says
it reproduces Beethoven’s characteristic expression faithfully and that
it met with approval, though fault was found with the pose. Beethoven’s
contemporaries were not used to see him with his head bowed down as
Stieler represents him; on the contrary, he carried his head high
even when suffering physical pain. A lithographic reproduction of the
portrait was made by Fr. Dürck and published by Artaria in 1826.

In April, 1860, the author[31] had a conversation with Horzalka in
which the latter spoke very highly of Schindler and his disinterested
fidelity to Beethoven. Horzalka also said that in 1820 or 1821, as near
as he could recollect, the wife of a Major Baumgarten took boy boarders
in a house then standing where the Musikverein’s hall now stands in
Vienna. Her sister, Baroness Born, lived with her. Frau Baumgarten had
a son who studied at Blöchlinger’s Institute, and Beethoven’s nephew
was amongst her boarders. One evening Horzalka called there and found
only the Baroness Born at home. Soon another caller came and stayed to
tea. It was Beethoven. Among other topics, Mozart came on the tapis and
the Baroness asked Beethoven, in writing of course, which of Mozart’s
operas he thought most of. “Die Zauberflöte,” said Beethoven and,
suddenly clasping his hands and throwing up his eyes exclaimed, “Oh,
Mozart!” As Horzalka had, as was the custom, always considered “Don
Giovanni” the greatest of Mozart’s operas, this opinion by Beethoven
made a very deep impression upon him. Beethoven invited the Baroness to
come to his lodgings and have a look at his Broadwood pianoforte.

[Sidenote: ARRESTED AS A VAGRANT]

In 1820 Professor Höfel, who lived at Salzburg in the last years of his
life and who engraved the Latronne portrait of Beethoven for Artaria,
was appointed to a professorship of drawing in Wiener Neustadt. A year
or two afterward, as he said,[32] he was one evening with Eisner and
other colleagues in the garden of the tavern “Zum Schleifen,” a little
way out of town. The Commissioner of Police was a member of the party.
It was autumn and already dark when a constable came and said to the
Commissioner: “Mr. Commissioner, we have arrested somebody who will
give us no peace. He keeps on yelling that he is Beethoven; but he’s
a ragamuffin, has no hat, an old coat, etc.--nothing by which he can
be identified.” (_Herr Commissär, wir haben Jemand arretirt, welcher
uns kein’ Ruh gibt. Er schreit immer dass er Beethoven sei. Er ist
aber ein Lump, hat kein’ Hut, alter Rock, etc., kein Aufweis wer er
ist, etc._) The Commissioner ordered that the man be kept under arrest
until morning, “then we will examine him and learn who he is.” Next
morning the company was very anxious to know how the affair turned
out, and the Commissioner said that about 11 o’clock at night he was
waked by a policeman with the information that the prisoner would
give them no peace and had demanded that Herzog, Musical Director in
Wiener Neustadt, be called to identify him. So the Commissioner got up,
dressed, went out and waked up Herzog, and in the middle of the night
went with him to the watchhouse. Herzog, as soon as he cast eyes on
the man exclaimed, “That _is_ Beethoven!” He took him home with him,
gave him his best room, etc. Next day came the burgomaster, making all
manner of apologies. As it proved, Beethoven had got up early in the
morning, and, slipping on a miserable old coat and, without a hat, had
gone out to walk a little. He got upon the towpath of the canal and
kept on and on; seems to have lost his direction, for, with nothing to
eat, he had continued on until he brought up at the canal-basin at the
Ungerthor. Here, not knowing where he was, he was seen looking in at
the windows of the houses, and as he looked so like a beggar the people
had called a constable who arrested him. Upon his arrest the composer
said, “I am Beethoven.” “Of course, why not?” (_Warum nicht gar?_)
said the policeman; “You’re a tramp: Beethoven doesn’t look so.” (_Ein
Lump sind Sie; so sieht der Beethoven nicht aus._) Herzog gave him
some decent clothes and the burgomaster sent him back to Baden, where
he was then living, in the magisterial state-coach. This simple story
is the foundation for the fine narrative related as a fact in Vienna
that Beethoven had got into this scrape following troops from Vienna
who had a sham battle near Wiener Neustadt, and taking notes for his
“Wellington’s Victory”--which whole story thus goes to the wall.

A letter written from Baden on September 10, 1821, to Tobias Haslinger
accompanying a canon[33] on the words “O Tobias _dominus_ Haslinger,
O, O!” deserves to be given here to show that Beethoven’s high spirits
could at times dominate him in spite of his general misery.

Very best fellow!

Yesterday, in the carriage on the way to Vienna, I was overcome by
sleep, naturally enough, since (because of my early rising here)
I had never slept well. While thus slumbering I dreamed that I
had made a long journey--to no less distant a country than Syria,
no less than India, back again, no less than Arabia, finally I
reached Jerusalem; the Holy City aroused in me thoughts of Holy
Writ and small wonder that the man Tobias now occurred to me, and
how natural that our little Tobias should enter my mind and the
_pertobiasser_, and now during my dream journey the following canon
came to me: “O Tobias _dominus_ Haslinger, O, O!” But scarcely
awakened, away went the canon and nothing of it would come back
to my memory. But when, next day, I was on my way hither in the
same conveyance (that of a poor Austrian musician) and continued
the dream journey of the day before, now awake, behold, according
to the laws of association of ideas, the same canon occurred to
me again; now fully awake I held it fast, as erst Menelaus held
Proteus, only allowing it to change itself into 3 voices.

Farewell. Presently I shall send you something on Steiner to show
you that he has no stony (_steinernes_) heart. Farewell, very best
of fellows, we ever wish that you will always belie your name of
publisher (_Verleger_) and never become embarrassed (_verlegen_)
but remain a publisher (_Verleger_) never at a loss (_verlegen_)
either in receiving or paying--Sing the epistles of St. Paul every
day, go to pater Werner,[34] who will show you the little book by
which you may go to heaven in a jiffy. You see my anxiety for your
soul’s salvation; and I remain with the greatest pleasure from
everlasting to everlasting,

Your most faithful debtor
Beethoven.

[Sidenote: NEGOTIATIONS FOR THE MASS IN D]

And now as to the creative work of the two years. Paramount attention
must be given to the Mass in D, which, though long in hand and destined
for a function in which Beethoven and his Imperial Archepiscopal pupil
were profoundly concerned, was yet incomplete when the time for that
function arrived. Archduke Rudolph was installed as Archbishop of
Olmütz on March 20, 1820. Exactly what condition the Mass was in at
that time we have no means of knowing; it was, however, in a sufficient
state of forwardness to enable Beethoven to begin negotiations for its
publication. On March 18 he wrote to Simrock:

As regards the mass, I have pondered the matter carefully and might
give it to you for the honorarium of 100 Louis d’ors which you
offered me, provided you agree to a few conditions which I shall
propose and which I think, will not be found burdensome by you. We
have gone through the plan for publication here and believe that
with a few modifications it can be put into effect very soon, which
is very necessary; wherefore I shall make haste to inform you of
the necessary changes soon.

This would seem to indicate that the work had been practically
completed, and that this view obtained amongst Beethoven’s friends we
know from the evidence of the Conversation Books. In the summer at
Mödling he was frequently asked if it was finished and when it would
be performed. Some hurried sketches belonging to the _Credo_ are found
amongst the remarks of his friends, and also sketches for the _Agnus
Dei_. Schindler asks him in August: “Is the _Benedictus_ written out in
score? Are those sketches for the _Agnus_?” Rudolph had communicated
to him his intention to spend a part of the summer in Mödling.
Beethoven writes to him on August 3 and September 2, making apologies
for apparent neglect in not waiting upon him (he had no carriage the
first time, was in ill-health the second), but says not a word about
the mass. Some of the remarks in the Conversation Book are vague as to
the composition referred to, but many are plain enough to show that
Beethoven had informed his friends and advisers of the negotiations
with Simrock. Surprise is expressed at Simrock’s delay. Beethoven is
advised to write to him and also to Brentano in Frankfort, who had
been authorized to collect the honorarium. In April somebody writes:
“Have you written to Simrock that he _must not_ publish the mass at
once, as you want first to send it or hand it to the Archduke?” Again:
“If you send the _Recepisse_ of the stage-coach he will certainly send
you the money _at once_.” And later: “It would be quicker to give the
music to the stage-coach and send Brentano the receipt--at the same
time informing Simrock that Brentano had been assured of its despatch;
then Brentano can send you the money at once without waiting to receive
the music.” In April again: “But he has not yet replied to your last
offer of the mass? I mean Simrock--200 ducats could help you out
greatly--Because of _your circumstances_. You must not delay writing to
Simrock or Brentano. Brentano can send you the money _at once_--or at
least very soon.” “I am surprised that Simrock has not answered yet.”
Meanwhile Simrock answers. “Leave Simrock’s letter with me,” says the
mentor, “I’ll answer it and give you the letter this afternoon--if you
are satisfied with it you will sign it and I will post it to-morrow.
There must be no delay.” “He says the mass can be used only by
Catholics, which is not true.” “He is paying too little rather than too
much with 200 ducats.”

It is obvious that some difficulty had arisen between Beethoven and
Simrock. What that difficulty was is explained in a letter from
Simrock to Brentano dated November 12, 1820. It was a misunderstanding
concerning the price of the “new grand musical mass” which the
composer wished to sell for 100 Louis d’ors. The publisher had agreed
to the price, understanding Louis d’ors to mean what the term meant
in Bonn, Leipsic and throughout Germany, namely, the equivalent of
Friedrichs d’ors, pistoles. In order to avoid unpleasantness after the
reception of the mass he had explained this clearly to Beethoven and in
a letter, dated September 23, had repeated that by Louis d’ors he meant
Friedrichs d’ors; he was not in a position to give more. He would hold
the sum in readiness against the receipt of the mass, which Beethoven
had promised to provide with German as well as Latin words. He was also
under the impression that he had asked a speedy decision, as he did
not want to keep his money tied up in Frankfort. Hearing nothing for
four weeks he had quit counting on the mass and made other use of his
money. Learning, however, from Brentano’s letter of November 8th that
Beethoven had agreed to let him have the mass, he now finds himself in
the embarrassment of not having the gold Louis d’ors on hand, but as
Brentano had said nothing on the subject he would in the meantime try
to secure the coin, unless Brentano were willing to take the equivalent
in florins at the rate of 9.36. He asked to be informed of the arrival
of the music so that he might instruct Heinrich Verhuven to receive it
on paying the sum mentioned.

Simrock waited four weeks before abandoning hope that Beethoven would
send the mass; it was ten weeks and more before Beethoven answered
Simrock’s letter. Then he sent his reply to Brentano enclosed in a
letter dated November 28. The letter has not been found, or at least
not made public; but the letter to Brentano[35] makes it plain that
Beethoven had acceded to Simrock’s offer and agreed to take pistoles
for Louis d’ors. He says:

Your kindness permits me to hope that you will not refuse to have
the enclosure sent to Simrock, inasmuch as in it my views are set
forth concerning the whole matter. Nothing remains now except to
take what he offers, namely the 100 pistoles and as much more as
you, an expert in the business, can get for me by the rate of
exchange. I am convinced of your kind disposition in this regard.
I am very hard-pressed just now, but such things are to be told
_last of all to a publisher_; it is, thank God, not my fault, but
my sacrifices for others, chiefly, too, for the weak Cardinal who
led me into this morass and does not know how to help himself. As
soon as the translation is finished I shall trouble you again by
sending you the mass, and I pray you give a little attention then
to securing what you can for me from the Jewish[36] publisher.

Thus matters stand with the Mass at the end of 1820, and thus they
seem to have remained throughout the next year. Simrock always was to
be but never was blest with the score. On July 18, 1821, Beethoven
promises to put the work into the Archduke’s hands “while here”--i. e.,
at Unterdöbling; he leaves the reasons for the delay to the imagination
of his patron: “the details might prove anything but pleasant to Y. I.
H.” In November he thinks again of Simrock and on the 12th writes to
Brentano:

The mass might have been sent before this, but had to be _carefully
looked through_, for the publishers in other countries do not get
along well with my manuscript, as I know from experience, and a
copy for the engraver must be examined note by note. Moreover,
I could not come because of illness, the more since despite
everything I have been compelled to make a considerable number
of potboilers (as unfortunately I must call them). I think I am
justified in making an attempt to get Simrock to reckon the Louis
d’ors at a higher rate, inasmuch as several applications have been
made from other quarters, concerning which I shall write you soon.
As for the rest, do not question my honesty; frequently I think of
nothing except that your kind advance may soon be repaid.

[Sidenote: LOAN ADVANCED ON THE MASS]

It seems a fair inference from the concluding remark, together with
the advice of his friend or friends in the Conversation Book of the
previous summer concerning a collection through Brentano as soon as the
mass had been handed over to the stage-coach, that Beethoven had got an
advance from Brentano on the money which was awaiting the arrival of
the work in Frankfort. The following letter to Brentano strengthens the
inference:

Vienna, December 20, 1821.

Noble man!

I am awaiting another letter respecting the mass, which I shall
send you to give you an insight into the whole affair. In any event
the entire honorarium will be paid to you whereupon you will please
deduct the amount of my indebtedness to you, my gratitude to you
will always be unbounded. I was so presumptuous as without asking
to dedicate a composition of mine to your daughter Maxe, please
accept the deed as a mark of my continual devotion to you and your
entire family--do not misinterpret the dedication as prompted by
interest or as a recompense--this would pain me greatly. There are
nobler motives to which such things may be ascribed if reasons must
be found. The new year is about to enter, may it fulfil all your
wishes and daily increase your happiness as the father of a family
in your children. I embrace you cordially and beg you to present
my compliments to your excellent, only and glorious Toni.

Yours, etc.

I have received from here and elsewhere offers of 200 ducats in
gold for the mass. I think I can get 100 florins W. W. more. On
this point I am waiting for a letter which I will send you at once,
the matter might then be presented to Simrock, who will certainly
not expect me to lose so much. Till then please be patient and do
not think that you have acted magnanimously towards an unworthy man.

[Sidenote: THREE SONATAS AT A BREATH]

Brentano informed Simrock of the situation; but the subject is now
carried over into the next year and must be left for the nonce, while
we take up the history of some other compositions. The last three
pianoforte sonatas, Op. 109, 110 and 111, belong to this period.
Also the Bagatelles Op. 119, Nos. 7 to 11 inclusive. Their story
is known. Friedrich Starcke, Chapelmaster of an Austrian regiment
of infantry, had undertaken the publication of a pianoforte method
which he called the “Wiener Pianoforteschule.” Part III of the work,
which appeared early in 1821, contained these five Bagatelles under
the title “Trifles” (_Kleinigkeiten_). Above them Starcke printed:
“A contribution from the great composer to the publisher.” They must
have been asked for in 1820. Somewhere about February of that year an
unidentified hand writes in the Conversation Book: “Starcke wants a
little music-piece by you for the second part of his _Klavierschule_,
for which he has contributions from the leading composers besides short
notices.... We must give him something. Notwithstanding his great
deserts in music and literature he is extremely modest, industrious
and humble.... He understands the art of compiling well. There are now
weaklings everywhere even among the strong.” To this appeal Beethoven
yielded. He wrote the five Bagatelles, sketches for which are found
amongst some for the Sonata in E major (Op. 109) and the _Benedictus_
of the mass. No. 6 is also sketched among studies for the _Credo_. No
doubt these little pieces were some of the “potboilers” (_Brodarbeit_)
referred to in the letter to Brentano; also some folksong arrangements;
and it may even be, that Beethoven included also the three great
sonatas. Schindler relates that when Beethoven heard that it was
bruited about that he had written himself out, his invention was
exhausted, and that he had taken up Scottish melodies like Haydn in
his old age, he seemed amused and said: “Wait a while, you’ll soon
learn differently.” Schindler then adds: “Late in the Fall (1820),
returned from his summer sojourn in Mödling, where like a bee he had
been engaged busily in gathering ideas, he sat himself down to his
table and wrote out the three sonatas Op. 109, 110, 111 ‘in a single
breath,’ as he expressed it in a letter to Count Brunswick in order to
quiet the apprehension of his friends touching his mental condition.”
Schindler was dubious about the “single breath” and, indeed, there was
a considerable lapse of time between the writing of the first of the
three sonatas and the last two. The Sonata in E belongs unquestionably
to the year 1820. The first theme is found in the Conversation Book of
April, and the work was sketched before he began the _Benedictus_ of
the mass and while he was at work on this movement, the _Credo_, the
_Agnus Dei_ and the Bagatelles for Starcke. Before the end of the year
Archduke Rudolph received the manuscript for his collection. It was
dedicated to Maximiliane Brentano,[37] and published in November, 1821,
by Schlesinger in Berlin.

Beethoven has himself left data concerning the other two sonatas. On
the autograph of that in A-flat major, Op. 110, he wrote the date
“December 25, 1821.” Sketches for it follow sketches for the _Agnus
Dei_ of the mass, which were begun in 1820.[38] It was published
by Schlesinger in Berlin and Paris in 1822. There is evidence in a
memorandum to Schindler found among the latter’s papers, and also in a
letter to Schlesinger of 1823, that Beethoven intended to dedicate both
of the last two sonatas to Madame Brentano. “Ries-nichts” (“nothing
to Ries”), says the memorandum, significantly. Ideas utilized in the
C minor Sonata, Op. 111, are found amongst those for Op. 110 and
particularly among some for the _Agnus Dei_. The autograph bears the
date January 13, 1822,[39] and it is plain that most of the work was
done in 1821. It was published by Schlesinger in April, 1823, after
Beethoven had offered it to Peters of Leipsic. Corrections for these
three sonatas occupied a great deal of time; the engraving of the
French edition of the C minor was so faulty that Beethoven demanded
proof copies three times; twice his call was granted, the third time
it was refused.[40] This Sonata, Op. 111, was dedicated to Archduke
Rudolph. Beethoven had left the matter to Schlesinger, but he afterward
made a suggestion as to his wishes, for in a letter to the Archduke
on June 1, 1823, he writes: “Y. I. H. seemed to find pleasure in
the Sonata in C minor, and therefore I feel that it would not be
presumptuous if I were to surprise you with its dedication.”

There are few other compositions of these two years to ask attention,
the Canons and five Bagatelles having been mentioned. There is a song,
“Abendlied unter dem gestirnten Himmel,” words by Heinrich Göbel, the
original manuscript of which bears date March 4, 1820, and which was
published as a supplement to the “Modenzeitung” on March 28, 1820,
with a dedication to Dr. Braunhofer.[41] The twenty-five Scotch Songs,
Op. 108, were published in 1821 by Schlesinger. The performances of
Beethoven’s works in Vienna in 1820 and 1821 are quickly summed up. The
Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde performed the “Eroica” on February 20,
the C minor on April 9 and the F major on November 19. The Overture
in C, Op. 115, was played at a concert for the benefit of Widows and
Orphans on April 16, 1820. In the _Concerts spirituels_, conducted
by F. X. Gebauer in the season 1820-21, the Symphonies in C minor,
A major, and F major, and the Oratorio “Christus am Ölberg,” were
performed. Leopoldine Blahetka, a young woman of 18 who was creating
something of a furore by her pianoforte playing at the time, played the
Concerto in B-flat on April 3, having studied it with J. Czerny.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] “Two things fill the soul with ever new and increasing wonder
and reverence the oftener the mind dwells upon them--the starry sky
above me and the moral law within me.”--Kant’s “Criticism of Practical
Reason.”

[25] The greeting was in the form of a four-part canon beginning with
a short homophonic chorus, the words: “Seiner Kaiserlichen Hoheit! Dem
Erzherzog Rudolph! Dem geistlichen Fürsten! Alles Gute, alles Schöne!”
The autograph is preserved by the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in
Vienna. B. and H. Ges. Aus. Series XXIII, page 187.

[26] The reader who desires to read the documents in full is referred
to the German edition of this biography for the decrees and minutes
of the courts and to the Kalischer-Shedlock collection of letters for
Beethoven’s pleadings.

[27] 11 Dr. Deiters remarks on this point: “No doubt Beethoven had
hoped to attain his ends by general statements and thus spare himself
the shame and humiliation which would have followed had he presented
the truth, even in disguise, touching the lewdness and shameless life
of his own sister-in-law; and her legal advisers and the members of the
Magisterial Court knew how to turn this fact to their own advantage.”

[28] Made to Thayer.

[29] Here, as in several other cases, in which opinions only and
not definitely ascertained facts are concerned, the present Editor
is inclined to attach as much importance to Thayer’s judgment as
to that of his critics and revisers. Thayer’s working copy of his
“Chronologisches Verzeichniss,” which contains annotations of a
much later date than Nottebohm’s publication in the “Thematisches
Verzeichniss” which he edited for Breitkopf and Härtel, pays no
attention to Nottebohm’s conclusion.

[30] See the letter in the Kalischer-Shedlock Coll. II, 178.

[31] Thayer.

[32] This anecdote is recorded in Thayer’s note-book as a memorandum of
a conversation had with Höfel on June 23, 1860.

[33] For the music the reader is referred to Series XXIII of the
Complete Edition of Beethoven’s works published by Breitkopf and Härtel.

[34] The dramatic poet Zacharias Werner, who had become a convert
to Roman Catholicism and, now an ordained priest, was preaching to
great crowds of Viennese. The puns on the German word _Verleger_ and
_verlegen_ are untranslatable.

[35] The letter is preserved in the Beethoven House at Bonn. It was
first published in the “Vossische Zeitung” by Dr. Kalischer on July 26,
1903. See Kalischer-Shedlock, II, 177.

[36] Dr. Kalischer refers the remark about the “Jewish publisher”
to Schlesinger in Berlin; but this may be a mistake. In a later
correspondence with Peters, who suggests the term, Schlesinger is thus
referred to; but there is nothing to indicate that when correspondence
between Schlesinger and Beethoven had scarcely begun, Brentano was
called on to come to the rescue. Beethoven may mean a fling at Simrock
for his action in the matter of the Louis d’ors.

[37] See the letter to Franz Brentano of December 20, 1821, and the
note to his daughter dated December 6, 1821. (Kalischer-Shedlock, II,
189.)

[38] See Nottebohm, “Zweit. Beeth.,” pp. 465 and 471.

[39] Beethoven wrote, as if absentmindedly, “Ludwig Ludwig am 13ten
Jenner 1822.”

[40] It is noteworthy, as shown by Nottebohm (“Zweit. Beeth.,” pp.
467, 468) that the first theme of the first movement of the C minor
Sonata was originally intended for a third movement in a “second
sonata” which (Op. 109 being finished) can only have been the one in C
minor. It would seem as if the use of the theme in the first movement
did not occur to the composer until after he had conceived the theme
of the variations. But the theme had figured twenty years before in a
sketchbook used when the Sonata in A major, Op. 30, was in hand. Its
key then was F-sharp minor, and it may have been intended for Op. 30.

[41] Published also, together with three other songs--“Geheimniss,”
“Resignation” and “So oder so”--by Sauer and Leidesdorf as Op. 113 in
1821 or 1822. Beethoven presented a copy of it to Fanny Giannatasio on
April 19, 1820.

Chapter III

The Year 1822--The _Missa Solemnis_--Beethoven and His
Publishers--Brother Johann--Meetings with Rochlitz and
Rossini--Overture: “The Consecration of the House”--A Revival
of “Fidelio”--Madame Schroeder-Devrient--The “Bagatelles”--A
Commission from America.

It is now desirable to disregard the strict chronological sequence of
incident and dispose, so far as is possible, of the history of the
great Mass in D prior to the adoption of a new plan by which Beethoven
hoped to make it a source of extraordinary revenue. So far as it
affects Beethoven’s character as a man not always scrupulous in his
observance of business obligations, the story does not need to extend
beyond the year 1822. Careful readers of this biography can easily
recall a number of lapses from high ideals of candor and justice in his
treatment of his friends and of a nice sense of honor and honesty in
his dealings with his publishers; but at no time have these blemishes
been so numerous or so patent as they are in his negotiations for the
publication of the _Missa Solemnis_--a circumstance which is thrown
into a particularly strong light by the frequency and vehemence of
his protestations of moral rectitude in the letters which have risen
like ghosts to accuse him, and by the strange paradox that the period
is one in which his artistic thoughts and imagination dwelt in the
highest regions to which they ever soared. He was never louder in his
protestations of business morality than when he was promising the
mass to four or more publishers practically at the same time, and
giving it to none of them; never more apparently frank than when he
was making ignoble use of a gentleman, whom he himself described as
one of the best friends on earth, as an intermediary between himself
and another friend to whom he was bound by business ties and childhood
associations which challenged confidence; never more obsequious (for
even this word must now be used in describing his attitude towards
Franz Brentano) than after he had secured a loan from that friend in
the nature of an advance on a contract which he never carried out;
never more apparently sincere than when he told one publisher (after
he had promised the mass to another) that he should be particularly
sorry if he were unable to give the mass into his hands; never more
forcefully and indignantly honest in appearance than when he informed
still another publisher that the second had importuned him for the
mass (“bombarded” was the word), but that he had never even deigned
to answer his letters. But even this is far from compassing the
indictment; the counts are not even complete when it is added that in
a letter he states that the publisher whom he had told it would have
been a source of sorrow not to favor had never even been contemplated
amongst those who might receive the mass; that he permitted the friend
to whom he first promised the score to tie up some of his capital for
a year and more so that “good Beethoven” should not have to wait a day
for his money; that after promising the mass to the third publisher he
sought to create the impression that it was not the _Missa Solemnis_
that had been bargained for, but one of two masses which he had in hand.

It is not only proper, but a duty, to give all possible weight to
the circumstances which can be, ought to be, must indeed be pleaded
in extenuation of his conduct; but the facts can not be obscured or
ignored without distorting the picture of the man Beethoven as this
biography has consistently striven from the beginning to present it.
For English and American readers, moreover, the shock of surprise will
be lessened by a recollection of Beethoven’s first transactions in
London, which more than five years before had called out the advice
of the English publishers to Neate for God’s sake not to buy anything
of Beethoven! As for the rest it is right to remember that at this
time many of the sources of Beethoven’s income had dried up. He was no
longer able to offer his publishers symphonies in pairs, or sonatas and
chamber compositions in groups. He produced laboriously and, in the
case of compositions which were dear to his heart, with infinite and
untiring care and insatiable desire for perfection. Engrossed in such
works, he gave no thought to pecuniary reward; but, rudely disturbed
by material demands, he sought the first means at hand to supply
the need. Hence his resurrection of works composed and laid aside
years before; his acceptance of commissions which he was never able
to perform; his promise of speedy delivery of works scarcely begun;
his acceptance of advances on contracts which he could not fulfil;
his strange confidence (this we feel we are justified in assuming)
in his ability to bring forth works of magnitude in time to keep his
obligations even when the works which he had in mind had already been
there for years; his ill-health which brought with it loss of creative
vitality, of fecundity in ideas and facility in execution in inverse
ratio to the growth of his artistic ideals; the obsession of his whole
being by his idolatrous love for his nephew and the mental distress and
monetary sacrifice which his self-assumed obligation entailed and which
compelled him to become the debtor of his publishers lest he encroach
upon the emoluments of the Vienna Congress which he had solemnly
consecrated to his foster-son. Let all these things be remembered when
the story of his shortcomings is told.[42]

And now let the story of the Mass be resumed from the point where it
was dropped in the preceding chapter; with it will be found statements
bearing on a few other more or less inconsequential compositions.

[Sidenote: REPREHENSIBLE CONDUCT TOWARDS SIMROCK]

On May 13, 1822, Simrock reminds Beethoven that a year has passed
since he promised to deliver the score into his hands by the end of
April. Since October 25, 1820, he (Simrock) had kept 100 Louis d’ors
on deposit in Frankfort so that there would be no delay in the payment
of the remuneration. On March 19, Beethoven had written that he had
been sick abed for six weeks and was not yet entirely well. He had told
the publisher to rest easy in his mind, that being the sole purpose
of the letter. The publisher had gone to the autumn fair of 1821 and
to the Easter fair of 1822 and asked Brentano for the mass; but been
told that it had not been received. He begs for a few words on the
subject. It would seem as if Simrock had preserved his temper very
well. The letter brings another evidence of his unchanged good will, He
had resolved at an earlier period to publish the six symphonies which
were in his catalogue in a new edition, but had not done so because it
would not pay. Now, he said, he wanted to rear a monument to his worthy
old friend and had brought out the scores in a style which he hoped
the composer would deem worthy. What Beethoven said in reply to this
letter is not known, his answer not having been given to the world;
it can be surmised, however, from the recital given to Brentano in a
letter from Beethoven dated May 19. He had been troubled by “gout in
the chest” for four months, he says, and able to do but little work;
nevertheless the Mass would be in Frankfort by the end of the next
month, that is, by the end of June, 1822. There was another reason for
the delay. Cardinal Rudolph, strongly disposed in favor of his music at
all times, did not want the Mass published so early and had returned
to the composer the score and parts only three days before. Here we
have a very significant statement. What may be called the official copy
of the Mass in D was formally presented to Archduke Rudolph on March
19, 1823; here, ten months earlier, he speaks of a score and parts
which the Archduke had returned to him three days before. The Mass,
therefore, must have had what, for the time being (Beethoven never
considered it finished so long as it was in his hands), was looked upon
as a definitive shape at the time when Beethoven promised to send it to
Brentano for Simrock. The Archduke returned it, as Beethoven says, so
that the publication might not be hindered. How long it had been in the
hands of the Archduke no one can tell. Now, said Beethoven to Brentano,
the score will be copied again, carefully examined, which would take
some time owing to his ill health, but it would be in Frankfort at the
end of June “at the latest,” by which time Simrock must be ready to
make payment. He had received better offers from Vienna and elsewhere,
but had rejected all of them because he had given his word to Simrock
and would abide by the agreement even if he lost money, trusting to
make his losses good by other sales to Simrock who, moreover, might
be disposed to make a contract for the Complete Edition. Brentano
communicated with Simrock at once and received a letter from the
publisher on May 29 expressing regret that sickness had been partly
responsible for the delay. He had been expecting the Mass every day for
more than a year, during which time the money had lain with Heinrich
Verhuven because he did not want Beethoven to wait a single day for it.

Thus on May 19, Beethoven tells Brentano that he will keep the faith
with Simrock even at a sacrifice. On March 1, however, he had written
to Schlesinger in Berlin:

In regard to my health, things are better. As to the Mass I beg
of you to get everything, everything (_Alles, alles_, in Jahn’s
transcript) in readiness as other publishers have asked for it and
many approaches have been made to me, especially from here, but I
resolved long ago that it should not be published here, as the
matter is a very important one for me. For the present I ask of
you only that you signify to me whether you accept my last offer
of the Mass together with the two songs; as regards the payment of
the honorarium, it may wait for more than four weeks. I must insist
upon an early answer, chiefly because two other publishers who want
to have it in their catalogues have been waiting for a definite
answer from me for a considerable time. Farewell, and write to me
at once; it would grieve me very much if _I could not give you just
this particular work_.

[Sidenote: THE MASS SOLD TO SCHLESINGER]

Schlesinger, as we learn from a letter dated July 2, 1822, had received
letters from Beethoven under date of April 9, May 29 and June (he
mistakenly says May 1). He answers the three at once, excusing his
delay on the ground that he had attended the fair in Leipsic, where he
fell ill, and had remained under the weather for several weeks after
his return to Berlin. Meanwhile business had accumulated. He accepts
Beethoven’s terms for the mass and the two songs:

Everything is in order about the Mass; pray send it and the two
songs as soon as possible and draw on me at fourteen days’ sight
for 650 R. T. I will honor the draft at once and pay it. I have no
opportunity to make payment to you through Vienna. Although several
music dealers there are extensively in my debt I cannot count on
prompt payment from any of them. These gentlemen have two very ugly
traits: 1), they do not respect property rights and 2), it is with
difficulty that they are brought to pay their accounts. The book
dealers are much sounder.

By a coincidence Schlesinger’s son, who had established himself in
business in Paris, wrote to Beethoven on the same day and asked him
if a third movement of the Pianoforte Sonata in C minor (Op. 111),
which he was publishing, had not been forgotten at the copyists. He,
like his father a little later, evidently suspected that they had not
received as much music, measured in detached movements, as they had
paid for; they missed a rondo finale! The incident may have amused,
or (which is more likely) even angered Beethoven; but it can scarcely
account for the fact that Beethoven resolved about this time to have
nothing more to do with Schlesinger _père_. On July 26 he writes to
Peters of Leipsic, with whom he has now entered into negotiations and
to whom he has offered the Mass, “In no event will Schlesinger ever
get anything more from me; he has played me a Jewish trick, but aside
from that he is not among those who might have received the Mass.”
When Beethoven was conducting the negotiations with Schott and Sons in
Mayence which resulted in the firm’s getting the work, he recurred to
the Schlesingers in a letter of January 22, 1824, and said: “Neither
is Schlesinger to be trusted, for he takes where he can. Both _père
et fils_ bombarded me for the mass, but I did not deign to answer
either of them, since after thinking them over I had cast them out long
before.” Beethoven’s threats were frequently mere _brutum fulmen_; the
Schlesingers, _père et fils_, remained his friends to the end and got
two of the last Quartets.

Both Simrock and Schlesinger are now waiting for Beethoven to send
them the Mass and the fee is waiting for the composer at Frankfort.
Meanwhile negotiations have been taken up with a newcomer in the field,
who, however, is but trying to renew an association which had begun
more than 29 years earlier. Before entering upon this phase of the
history of the Mass it seems well to dispose finally of the Simrock
incident.[43] On August 22, 1822, Simrock wrote to Beethoven again.
Beethoven’s answer followed on September 13 and, as it contains more
than a mere implication why he refused to abide by his contract (a
point that has been a matter more or less of speculation from the time
when the negotiations ceased till now), it is given in full here:

[Sidenote: AN APPEAL TO SIMROCK’S GENEROSITY]

Baden, September 13, 1822.

My dear and valued Simrock:

You will receive this letter from Baden, where I am taking the
baths, as my illness which has lasted a year and a half is not yet
ended. Much as I should like to write to you about many things I
must yet be brief and only reply to your last of August 22nd. As
regards the Mass you know that at an earlier date I wrote you that
a larger honorarium had been offered me. I would not be so sordid
as to haggle with you for a hundred or few more florins; but my
poor health and many other unpleasant circumstances compel me to
insist upon it. The minimum that at least four publishers have
offered me for the mass is 1000 florins Convention Coin at the
rate of twenty, or counting the florin at 3 Austrian florins C. C.
Much as I shall regret if we must part just because of this work,
I know that your generosity (_Biederherzigkeit_) will not allow me
to lose money on this work, which is perhaps the greatest that I
have composed. You know that I am not boastful and that I do not
like to show the letters of others or even quote from them; if it
were not so I might submit proofs from far and near. But I very
much wish to have the matter about the Mass settled as soon as
possible, for I have had to endure plots of all sorts on account
of it. It would be agreeable if you would let me know as soon as
possible if you will pay me this honorarium. If you will, you need
only deposit the difference with Brentano, whereupon I will at once
send you a well corrected score of the Mass which will suffice
you for the engraving. I hope my dear Simrock, whom I consider the
richest of all these publishers, will not permit his old friend to
go elsewhere for the sake of a few hundred florins. Concerning all
other matters I will write you soon; I shall remain here till the
beginning of October. I shall receive all letters which you may
write, safely as I did your last, only I beg you to write soon.
Farewell, greet the family cordially for me; as soon as I can I
will write to them myself.

Cordially your old friend,

Beethoven.

This letter can scarcely be called ingenuous by the most zealous
of Beethoven’s defenders. Aside from the fact that he had closed
the contract, had received an advance on the sum deposited and told
Brentano that he would keep his promise even at a sacrifice to himself,
the 1000 florins which he now asks Simrock to pay was not the minimum
sum which other publishers had offered but the maximum sum which he had
asked and all of them had agreed to pay--which, indeed, B. Schott and
Sons did pay a year and a half later. Under the circumstances it is
scarcely to be wondered at if the appeal to Simrock’s generosity fell
on stony soil; but we do not know that it did. The letter was evidently
answered by Simrock, who, despairing of ever getting the Mass, may
have suggested that he would accept other works in lieu of it, for on
March 10, 1823, Beethoven writes again saying (as he had said to Peters
in November, 1822) that he should surely receive a mass, for he had
written two and was only undecided which one to send. He asked Simrock
to be patient till Easter, when he would send one of them to Brentano.
He intended also to write a mass for the Emperor. As to other works, he
offered the overture to “The Consecration of the House,” the music to
“The Ruins of Athens,” the overture to “King Stephen,” some songs and
“Kleinigkeiten” for the pianoforte. Only for the new overture did he
fix a price (50 ducats), but he added: “You will surely receive one of
these two grand masses which are already composed; only be patient till
after Easter, by which time I shall have decided which to send.” This
is the last letter between Beethoven and Simrock which has been found.
It leaves the composer promising _a_ mass instead of delivering _the_
Mass, and that promise unfulfilled;--of a necessity, for the work,
though described as “already composed,” was never written.

In 1814 C. F. Peters had purchased the Bureau de Musique founded in
1798 by Hoffmeister and Kühnel, publishers of a number of Beethoven’s
compositions, including the First Symphony, between 1800 and 1805. On
May 18, 1822, Peters addressed a letter to Beethoven in which he said
that he had long wished to publish some of his compositions but had
refrained from applying to him because he did not wish to offend the
Viennese publishers; seeing now, however, that he was going outside
with his compositions and giving them “even to the Jew Schlesinger,”
he would no longer give heed to such considerations. He had spoken to
Steiner on the subject at the last fair, who had offered no objections,
had, indeed, said that he would be glad if he (Peters) got the works
instead of Schlesinger, and had offered his services as mediary
between him and Beethoven, and asked for a list of compositions which
he wanted. Thereupon he had given Steiner such a list: symphonies,
pianoforte quartets and trios, pianoforte solos “among which there
might be small pieces,” songs, etc.--anything, in short, which
Beethoven should send him would be welcome, for he wanted honor, not
profit, from the association. Beethoven replied on June 5:

Although I met Steiner several days ago and asked him jocularly
what he had brought for me from Leipsic, he did not mention _your
commission_, even in a _syllable_, nor _you_, but earnestly pleaded
with me to assure him that _I would give him and him alone all my
present and future works_ and this _contract-wise_; I declined.
This trait suffices to show you why I often prefer foreign
publishers to local; I love straightforwardness and uprightness
and am of the opinion that the artist ought not to be belittled,
for alas! glittering as is the external aspect of fame, he is not
permitted to be Jupiter’s guest on Olympus every day; too often
and too repulsively the vulgar many drag him down from the pure
ethereal heights.

He now opened his budget of wares: the largest work was a Mass--many
had striven for it, “100 weighty Louis d’ors” had been offered for it,
but he had demanded at least 1,000 florins Convention Coin, for which
sum he would also prepare the pianoforte score; variations on a waltz
(“there are many”) for pianoforte--30 ducats in gold; a comic air with
orchestra on Goethe’s “Mit Mädeln sich vertragen,” and another air of
the same genre, 16 ducats each;[44] several rather extended songs with
pianoforte accompaniment, among them a little Italian cantata with
recitative,[45] 12 ducats each; there were also recitatives to some of
the German songs; 8 ducats each for songs; an elegy for four voices
and string quartet accompaniment,[46] 24 ducats; a chorus of Dervishes
with full orchestra, 20 ducats; a march for orchestra written for the
tragedy “Tarpeia,” with arrangement for pianoforte, 12 ducats; Romance
for violin solo and orchestra,[47] 15 ducats; Grand Trio for 2 oboi and
1 English horn,[48] which might be transcribed for other instruments,
30 ducats; four military marches with percussion (“Turkish music”)
prices on application; bagatelles, or trifles for pianoforte, prices on
application.

The copy of the letter as printed contains the words here: “All
these works are ready,” but they are wanting in the original draft.
Beethoven now goes on with a list of compositions which Peters “might
have soon”; a sonata for pianoforte solo,[49] 40 ducats; a string
quartet, 50 ducats. More than anything else, however, he was desirous
to have a complete edition of his works, as he wished to look after the
publication in his lifetime. He had received a number of applications,
but could not, or would not, meet all the conditions. With some
necessary help he thought such an edition of his works might be brought
out in two years, possibly in one-and-a-half; a new work was to be
added to each class, “to the Variations a new set of variations, to
the Sonatas a new sonata,” etc., “and for all these together I ask
10,000 florins Convention Coin.” He deplores the fact that he is no
business man; he wishes that matters were different than they are, but
he is forced to act as he does by competition, and begs that secrecy be
observed touching the negotiations, to guard against trouble with other
publishers.

He was not kept waiting for an answer;--Peters’ reply is dated June
15. He regrets to hear of Steiner’s duplicity, but his conduct may
have been harmless in intention and caused by his weakness. The works
which he wanted and of which he had given a list to Steiner were a
quartet for strings, a trio of the same kind, a concert overture
for full orchestra, songs and some small solos for pianoforte “such
as capriccios, divertissements,” etc. Then he takes up Beethoven’s
detailed offer of compositions:

[Sidenote: THE MASS SOLD TO PETERS]

The most admirable amongst them is your Grand Mass, which you offer
me together with the pianoforte score for one thousand florins
C. C. and to the acceptance of which at the price I confess my
readiness.... Between honest men (_offenen Männern_) like us there
is no need of a contract; but if you want one send it to me and
I will return it _signed_. If not, please state to me in writing
that I am to receive the Mass in question together with the
pianoforte score for 1000 florins in 20-florin pieces, and indicate
when I am to receive it and that it is to be my _sole property for
ever_. I want the first so that I may look upon this transaction
as _concluded_, and the time I want to know so that I can arrange
about the publication. If I were a rich man I would pay you very
differently for this Mass, for I opine that it is something right
excellent, especially because it was composed for an occasion;
but for me 1000 florins for a Mass is a large expenditure and the
entire transaction, on my word, is undertaken only in order to show
myself to you and the world as a publisher who does something for
art. I must ask another consideration, namely, that _nobody_ learn
how much I have paid for the Mass--at least not for some time; I am
not a man of large means, but must worry and drudge; nevertheless
I pay artists as well as I can and in general better than other
publishers.

For the present, Peters adds, he does not want to publish larger vocal
works by Beethoven nor the Mass singly but along with other works, to
show the Viennese publishers that there is a contract between him and
Beethoven which obliges the latter to send him compositions. To that
end he asks for some songs, a few bagatelles for pianoforte solo, the
four military marches; he would be glad to take also the new string
quartet, but 50 ducats is beyond his means. Beethoven is at liberty to
tell Steiner that he had applied to Beethoven with his knowledge and
consent. Beethoven’s answer (incorrectly dated July instead of June 26)
says:

[Sidenote: SALE OF THE MASS TO PETERS CONFIRMED]

I write you now only that I give you the Mass together with the
pianoforte score for the sum of 1000 florins, C. C. in 20-florin
pieces. You will in all likelihood receive the score in copy by
the end of July--perhaps a few days earlier or later. As I am
always busy and have been ailing for five months and works must
be carefully examined, if they go to a distance this always is
a slower matter with me. In no event will _Schlesinger_ ever
get anything more from me; he has played me a Jewish trick, but
aside from that he is not among those who might have received the
Mass. The competition for my works is very strong at present for
which I thank the Almighty, for I have also already lost much.
Moreover, I am the foster-father of the child of my brother, who
died destitute. As this boy at the age of 15 years shows so much
aptitude for the sciences, his studies and support cost much money
now and he must be provided for in the future, we being neither
Indians nor Iroquois who, as is notorious, leave everything in the
hands of God, and a pauper’s is a wretched lot. I keep silence
concerning everything between us _by preference_ and beg you to be
silent about the present connection with me. I will let you know
when it is time to speak, which is not at all necessary now....
I assure you on my honor, which I hold highest after God, that I
never asked Steiner to receive orders for me. It has always been my
chief principle never to appeal to a publisher, not out of pride
but because I have wanted to see how extended is the province which
my fame has reached.... As for the songs, I have already spoken.
I think that an honorarium of 40 ducats is not _too much_ for the
3 songs and 4 marches. You can write to me on the subject. As soon
as the Mass is ready I will let you know and ask you to remit the
honorarium to a house here and I will deliver the work as soon as
I have received it. I will take care to be present at the delivery
to the post and that the freight charge shall not be too great. I
should like soon to be made acquainted with your plan concerning
the complete edition which is so close to my heart.

Peters answers this letter on July 3. He is willing to pay 40 ducats
for the songs and marches and to remit part of the honorarium in
advance. Beethoven’s complaint about his financial affairs distresses
him and he would like to help him. “It is wrong that a man like you
is obliged to think about money matters. The great ones of the earth
should long ago have placed you in a position free from care, so that
you would no longer have to live on art but only for art.” Before this
letter was received Beethoven had written a second and supplementary
reply to the letter of June 13; it is dated July 6. He had reread
his letter and discovered that Peters wanted some of the bagatelles
and a quartet for strings. For the former, “among which are some of
_considerable length_--they might be published separately under the
title ‘Kleinigkeiten’ (Trifles) No. 1, 2, etc.”--he asked 8 ducats
each. The quartet was not fully completed, work on it having been
interrupted. Here it was difficult to lower the prices, as such works
were the most highly paid for--he might almost say, to the shame of
the general taste, which in art frequently falls below that of private
taste. “I have written you everything concerning the Mass, and that
is settled.” On July 12, Peters writes that he does not know how
long the bagatelles are and so can not tell whether they are to be
printed separately or together; but he asks that a number be sent to
him together with word as to how many of such small pieces Beethoven
has on hand, as he might take them all. As for songs he would prefer
to have some in the style of “Adelaide” or “Schloss Markenstein.”
The honorarium for the compositions which were to be sent now would
amount to 200 or 300 florins in pieces of 20, but as he could not
determine the exact amount he asked Beethoven to collect the amount
from Meiss (Meisl) Brothers, bankers, on exhibition of receipt and
bill of shipment. It was all the same to him whether he collected the
money now or later; it was waiting and at Beethoven’s disposal. In this
manner, so convenient for Beethoven, he would make all his payments for
manuscripts purchased. On August 3 Beethoven writes:

I have not made up my mind as to the selection of songs and
_Kleinigkeiten_, but everything will be delivered by August 13. I
await your advices in the matter and will make no use of your bill
of exchange. As soon as I know that the honorarium for the Mass and
the other works is here all these things can be delivered by the
15th.

Peters was prompt in his remittance of the money which was to be
subject to Beethoven’s order; Beethoven, though less prompt in getting
it, was yet ahead of his delivery of the manuscripts for which the
money was to pay. Singularly enough, the incident which provides for
us knowledge of the time when the money was received by Peters’s agent
served as evidence in Beethoven’s excuse for drawing the money without
keeping his part of the agreement. On July 25, about a fortnight after
the date of Peters’s letter of advice, Piringer, associate conductor of
the _Concerts spirituels_, who was on terms of intimacy with Beethoven,
wrote him as follows:

_Domine Generalissimo!_

_Victoria_ in Döbling--fresh troops are advancing! The wholesalers,
Meisl Bros, here in the Rauhensteingasse, their own house, 2nd
storey, have received advices from Hrn. Peters in Leipsic to pay
several hundred florins to Herrn Ludwig van Beethoven. I hasten on
Degen’s pinions[50] to convey this report to _Illustrissimo_ at
once. To-day is the first sad day in the Viennese calendar, because
yesterday was the last day of the Italian opera.

This letter Beethoven sent to Peters from Baden on September 13 in
evidence of his presumption that Piringer, who was a daily caller at
the Steiner establishment, had gossipped about the relations between
him and Peters. He was sorry that Peters had sent the money so early,
but fearing talk he had collected the money. He would send all the
little things soon. He had been pressed by the Cardinal, who had come
to Baden on the 15th and on whom he had to attend several times a week;
and work had been forced upon him by the opening of the Josephstadt
Theatre; also he wanted to write new trios to some of the marches and
revise other works, but illness and too much other employment had
prevented. “You see from this at least that I am not an author for the
sake of money.... You will recall that I begged you to keep everything
away from Steiner. Why? That I will reveal to you in time. I hope that
God will protect me against the wiles of this wicked man Steiner.” On
November 22, Beethoven writes again: he had been expecting reproaches
for his negligence but though he had delivered nothing he had received
the honorarium. It looked wrong (“offensive” is his word), but he was
sure that all would be set right could they but be together a few
minutes. All the music intended for Peters had been laid aside except
the songs, the selection of which had not yet been made; as a reward
for waiting, Peters should receive one more than the stipulated number.
He could deliver more than the four bagatelles agreed on, as he had
nine or ten extra ones on hand.

[Sidenote: “A MASS” NOT “THE MASS” FOR PETERS]

Now there enters a new element into the story of the Mass; let
Beethoven introduce it in his own words: “This is the state of affairs
with regard to the Mass: I completed one long ago, but another is
not yet finished. There will always be gossip about me, and you must
have been misled about it. I do not know which of the two you will
receive.” The gossip against which Beethoven warned Peters, it is safe
to assume, related to the compositions which the latter had purchased
but not received; in great likelihood rumors about the Mass had
reached Leipsic. Peters was in communication with Steiner and others;
and that he knew that the mass had been planned for the installation
of Archduke Rudolph as Archbishop of Olmütz he had indicated when he
expressed the belief that it was something “right excellent” because
it had been composed for an occasion. The mass which Beethoven had
agreed to deliver by the end of July could therefore have been none
other than the Mass in D. It is deserving of mention, however, that
there is evidence that Beethoven was thinking of more than one mass
at the time--in fact, that he had thoughts of three. In a sketchbook
of the period is found a memorandum: “The _Kyrie_ in the second mass
with wind-instruments and organ only”;[51] and in another place there
are six measures of a theme for a _Dona nobis_ with the superscription
“Mass in C-sharp minor.” To this _Dona_ there is still another
reference or two of a later date; but that is all. It is likely that
the second mass was intended for the Emperor, as we shall see later;
Beethoven himself says that he had thoughts of a third.

Peters is getting importunate, and on December 20 Beethoven writes to
him that nothing intended for him is entirely ready; there had been
delays in copying and sending, but he had no time to explain. The songs
and marches would be sent “next week” and there would be six bagatelles
instead of four, and he asks that payment be made for the extra two on
receipt. He had so many applications for his works that he could not
attend to them all: “Were it not that my income brings in nothing[52] I
should compose only grand symphonies, church music or at the outside
quartets in addition.” Of smaller works Peters might have variations
for two oboes and English horn on a theme from “Don Giovanni”--_Da
ci la mano_ wrote Beethoven, meaning _Là ci darem la mano_--and a
Gratulatory Minuet;[53] he would like Peters’ opinion about the
complete edition. In a letter with the double date February 15 and 18,
1823, Peters is informed that three songs,[54] six bagatelles, one
march and a tattoo had been sent on the preceding Saturday--the tattoo
in place of one of the promised marches:

You will pardon the delay I believe, if you could see into my heart
you would not accuse me of intentional wrongdoing. To-day I give
the lacking two tattoos and the fourth grand march to the post. I
thought it best to send three tattoos and a march instead of four
marches, although the former can be used as marches. Regimental
chapelmasters can best judge how to use such things and moreover
pianoforte arrangements of them might be made. My conduct as an
artist you may judge from the songs; one has an accompaniment for
two clarinets, one horn, violas and violoncellos and can be sung to
these instruments alone or with the pianoforte without them. The
second song is with accompaniment for two clarinets, two horns and
two bassoons, and can also be sung to them alone or with pianoforte
accompaniment alone. Both songs have choruses and the third is a
quite extended arietta with pianoforte alone. I hope you are now
reassured. I should be sorry if these delays were attributed to my
fault or desire. I shall soon write to you about the Mass, as the
decision which you are to have will presently be made.

“Some time” before March 10, 1823, Beethoven repaid the loan of 300
florins to Brentano, sending the money through Geimüller. In his letter
of thanks on that date he encloses a letter to Simrock, unsealed
evidently, and says to his friend, “You see from it the state of things
concerning the Mass.” What that state was as it presented itself to the
mind of Beethoven we have as yet no means of knowing; but we know that
Peters was still kept in a state of expectation, for on March 20, 1823,
Beethoven writes:

As regards the Mass I will also send you a document which I beg
you to sign, for in any event the time is approaching when you
will receive one or the other. Besides yourself there are two
other men who also desire each a mass. I am resolved to write
at least three--the first is entirely finished, the second _not
yet_, the third not even begun; but in view of them I must have an
understanding so that I may be secured in any case. You may have
the Mass whenever you pay 1000 C. C.

[Sidenote: THREE PURCHASERS FAIL TO GET THE MASS]

So far as Peters is concerned the matter must be dropped for a space;
he published none of the works sent to him, did not receive the Mass,
and, refusing to take a quartet in return for the 360 florins which
Beethoven collected in advance, placing the blame on him, got the money
back from Beethoven some time after November, 1825. Peters did not
get the Mass; nor did Simrock; nor did Schlesinger; nor did Probst,
another Leipsic publisher with whom Beethoven carried on negotiations
for it and the Ninth Symphony, as will appear later; nor did Artaria,
Beethoven’s old publisher who, in all likelihood, was one of the “two
other men” of whom Beethoven wrote in the letter last quoted. On August
23, 1822, Artaria received a letter which, as it seems to stand alone
so far as the Mass is concerned, may well be printed in full:

Being just now overwhelmed with work, I can only say briefly that I
have always returned your favors whenever possible. As regards the
Mass I have been offered 1000 florins, C. C. for it. The state of
my affairs do not permit me to take a smaller honorarium from you.
All that I can do is to _give you the preference_. Rest assured
that I do not _take a heller more from you than_ has been _offered
me by others_. I could prove this to you in writing. You may think
this over but I beg of you to send me an answer by _to-morrow noon_
as to-morrow is postday and my decision is expected in other places.

I will make a proposition to you concerning the 150 florins C. C.
which I owe you, but the sum must not be deducted now, as I am in
urgent need of the 1000 florins. In addition I beg of you to keep
everything secret about the Mass.

It must long ago have been observed by the studious reader of these
pages that a great deal of illuminative material in the life-story
of Beethoven is found in the correspondence between the composer and
his publishers; but these letters in the later years of his life, and
especially in the period with which we are now concerned, were but
sorry guides to the state of forwardness in which compositions found
themselves at any stated time. Frequently they offer for publication
works which, so far as they had been fixed on paper at all, existed
only in the form of detached sketches; also some which, so far as we
know, existed only in the plans or purposes of the composer of which
the letters themselves are the only surviving records. It seems also
to be a fair deduction from them that Beethoven’s attitude towards
his publishers with reference to them depended to a considerable
extent on his temporary financial condition, and sometimes they are
an index of that consecration to high artistic ideals of which he
remains an unapproached exemplar. The Mass in D is almost always
ready for delivery when he is in financial extremities; but when he
has helped himself with loans or the collection of advances, or
the sale of old manuscripts or potboilers, his insatiable desire to
revise, amend and improve his great work takes possession of him, and
the vast amount of rewriting and recopying thus entailed pushes its
ultimate completion into the future and precipitates another period
of distress. He borrowed money from Brentano on the strength of the
deposit which Simrock had made in Frankfort; collected the honorarium
which Peters had advanced on the purchase of long undelivered songs,
bagatelles and marches; postponed the evil day of liquidation with
Steiner; finally borrowed money from his brother Johann, and to secure
the debt practically hypothecated to him all the manuscripts which
lay finished and unfinished in his desk by placing their sale in his
hands, subject to his instructions and advice. This circumstance brings
Johann van Beethoven back significantly into this history and invites
an inquiry into his character and his conduct with reference to his
famous brother. That, contemptible as his character may have been,
he has yet been maligned and his conduct towards Beethoven falsified
by Schindler and the romance writers who have accepted Schindler’s
misrepresentations and embellished them with the products of their own
unscrupulous imaginations, is scarcely open to doubt.

Something of the earlier history of Johann van Beethoven has been
told in the chapters of this biography which deal with the incidents
of the years 1808 and 1812. The brother, whose association with a
woman obnoxious to him because of her frivolousness and moral laxity
Beethoven sought to prevent by police methods and thereby only
precipitated a marriage, had grown rich enough in the interim to buy
some farm property near Gneixendorf and to make his winter residence
in Vienna. There we find him in the spring of 1822 living in the house
of his brother-in-law, a baker named Obermayer, at the intersection of
Koth- and Pfarrgassen. Thenceforward for a number of years, because of
his relationship to his famous brother, his idiosyncrasies, habits and
public behavior (and to a smaller number, the conduct of his wife), he
became a conspicuous and rather comical figure in Vienna. Gerhard von
Breuning described him thus:[55]

His hair was blackish-brown; hat well brushed; clothing clean
but suggesting that of a man who wishes to be elegantly clad on
Sundays; somewhat old-fashioned and uncouth, an effect which was
caused by his bone-structure, which was angular and unlovely. His
waist was rather small; no sign of embonpoint; shoulders broad; if
my memory serves me rightly, his shoulders were a trifle uneven,
or it may have been his angular figure which made him look
unsymmetrical; his clothing generally consisted of a blue frockcoat
with brass buttons, white necktie, light trousers (I think corn
color), loose linen-thread gloves, the fingers too long so that
they folded at the ends or stuck out loosely. His hands were broad
and bony. He was not exactly tall of stature, but much taller than
Ludwig. His nose was large and rather long, the position of his
eyes, crooked, the effect being as if he squinted a little with one
eye. The mouth was crooked, one corner drawn upwards giving him
the expression of a mocking smile. In his garb he affected to be
a well-to-do elegant, but the role did not suit his angular, bony
figure. He did not in the least resemble his brother Ludwig.

[Sidenote: CHARACTER OF JOHANN VAN BEETHOVEN]

Breuning also says in his book “Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause,” that
he was sometimes seen driving in the Prater with two or four horses
in an old-fashioned phaeton, either handling the reins himself or
lolling carelessly in the seat with two gallooned servants on the box.
Beethoven’s friends used to ridicule his brother to his face. In a
Conversation Book of 1822-23 Count Moritz Lichnowsky writes: “Everybody
thinks him a fool; we call him only the Chevalier--all the world says
of him that his only merit is that he bears your name.” No doubt there
was something, even a good deal, of the parvenu in Johann’s character.
He had neither the intellectual nor moral poise to fit him for the
place which he thought he was entitled to fill by virtue of his wealth
and his relationship to one of the most famous men of his age. Nor
could he command respect from a social point of view. How far from
above reproach his wife was, Beethoven showed by his unjustifiable
conduct when he sought to have her ejected from Linz in order to
separate her from his brother. That conduct Ludwig’s letters, soon to
be quoted, show had been condoned by him, but a memorandum found among
Schindler’s papers discloses that her conduct in Vienna was such that
Beethoven again thought of invoking the police.[56]

[Sidenote: A DEFENSE OF THE OLDER BROTHER]

That Johann van Beethoven was fond of money is indicated in his remarks
in the Conversation Books, when his advice to his brother is always
dictated by financial considerations and, no doubt, by the thoughts of
profits in which he hoped to share. But what would you? For what other
purposes had Beethoven asked him in to his councils? Surely not to get
his views on the artistic value of his work. He defers in his letters
to his brother’s superior business sagacity--that is all. It does not
anywhere appear that Johann ever attempted to overreach him or lead
him to financial injury. No doubt Beethoven in his fits of anger said
many things about him which put him in a bad light before his friends;
but did he not do the same thing in their own cases? Did Schindler
escape calumny? The better evidence is that offered by the letters
which show that Beethoven had confidence in his brother’s honesty and
judgment, invited his help, and was solicitous lest he suffer loss
from his efforts. If Johann lacked appreciation of his brother’s real
significance in art, he was proud of the world’s appreciation of him,
and if he could not have high regard for that high moral attitude in
the matter which had brought condemnation on his sister-in-law and
wife, he at least showed magnanimity in not trying to do his brother
injury and being always ready to help him when he could. It is very
likely that he was not at all musical and that his affectation of
appreciation of his brother’s works made him a fair subject for
ridicule. But surely there was little moral obliquity in that. In a
conversation in 1824 the nephew relates that his uncle had been present
at a chamber concert. Beethoven wants to know what he was doing there,
and the nephew replies: “He wants to acquire taste; he is continually
crying _bravo_.” So also Holz relates, in 1826, that Johann had
certainly heard the Quartet in E-flat major ten times, yet when it was
played in that year he said he was hearing it for the first time.[57]

Beethoven needed Johann’s help; he had a good opinion of his business
ability, and it is possible that he had learned something of tolerance
from the trials and tribulations which his quarrels with his other
sister-in-law had brought him. It is certain that after a separation
of nine years from his brother he was not merely desirous but eager
for a perfect reconciliation and a closer union. Johann offers his
help, but it is Beethoven who expresses the wish that the two may
live together, it is Beethoven who asks his brother to come to him
and help him negotiate the sale of his compositions. Johann no doubt
conducted some negotiations without his brother’s knowledge, but not
without authority; and so far as the Mass is concerned it is put into
the brother’s hands only after Johann has lent Beethoven 200 florins
and the Mass has been promised not only to Peters but to Simrock before
him. No doubt Johann exceeded his authority; at least, something had
come to the ears of Count Moritz Lichnowsky, probably from Beethoven
himself, which made him say in the conversation already cited, “You
ought to forbid him doing business or carrying on correspondence
without your signature. Perhaps he has already closed a contract in
your name”; but would it not have been better for Beethoven’s present
reputation for business honesty--if we must distinguish between the
ethics of the counting-house and those of the rest of the world--if he
had closed and kept the contracts which he had made when he called his
brother to help him with his correspondence? Schindler accuses Johann
of having persuaded Beethoven to take unfit lodgings; but Beethoven
expressly exonerates him from blame. He reproaches Johann for not
having provided his brother with money to pay his debts or offering his
security for them; but Johann lent him 200 florins before he went to
Baden and probably did not see why he should burden his own business
enterprises in order to enable Beethoven to keep the bank shares intact
for the nephew. He was willing to be helpful, however, and repeatedly
offered his brother a house on his estate, and in 1824 tried to
persuade him to take one rent free; but Beethoven’s antipathy to his
sister-in-law would not let him accept.

Exactly when Beethoven went to Oberdöbling in the summer of 1822
is not known, but he was there in July, and an endorsement on the
Simrock letter of May 13 would seem to indicate that he was there in
that month. His lodgings were in No. 135 Alleegasse. In the spring or
early summer he writes to Johann begging him, instead of driving in
the Prater, to come to him with his wife and step-daughter. His whole
desire is for the good which would inevitably follow a union. He had
made inquiries about lodgings and found that it would not be necessary
to pay much more than at Oberdöbling, and that, without sacrifice of
any pleasure, much money might be saved for both. He says:

I have nothing against your wife; I only wish that she might
realize how much you might benefit from being with me and that all
the miserable trifles of this life ought to cause no disturbances.

Peace, peace be with us. God grant that the most natural tie
between brothers be not unnaturally broken. At the best my life
may not be of long duration. I say again that I have nothing
against your wife, although her behavior towards me has struck me
as strange several times of late; besides, I have been ailing for
three and a half months and extremely sensitive and irritable. But
away with everything which does not _promote the object_, which is,
that I and my good Karl lead a regular life which is so necessary
to me.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN ASKS JOHANN’S HELP]

Here there is no mention of business matters and hence it may be
assumed that the letter dates from an early period in the reunion of
the brothers. But business considerations prompt a letter of July 26 in
which he tells Johann that his physician had ordered him to go to Baden
to take thirty baths and that he would make the journey on August 6 or
7. Meanwhile he would like to have his brother come to him and give him
his help and then accompany him to Baden and remain there a week. He
was engaged, he said, upon corrections of the Mass for which Peters was
to give him 1000 florins. Peters had also agreed to take some smaller
works and had sent 300 florins, but he had not yet accepted the money.
Breitkopf and Härtel had also sent the Saxon _Chargé d’Affaires_ to him
to talk about new works and inquiries had come from Paris and Diabelli
in Vienna. Publishers were now struggling for his works: “What an
_unfortunate fortunate_ am I!!!--this Berliner has also turned up--if
my health would return I might yet _feather my nest_ (_auf einen grünen
Zweig kommen_).”

The Archduke-Cardinal is here. I go to him twice a week. Though
there is nothing to be expected from him in the way of magnanimity
or money, I am on such a good and confidential footing with him
that it would be extremely painful not to show him some agreeable
attention; moreover, I do not think that his apparent niggardliness
is his fault.

In the same letter he says he might have had the 1000 florins from
Peters in advance but did not want to take them. He did not want to
“expose” himself, and he therefore asked his brother for a loan,
so that his trip to Baden might not be delayed. There was no risk
involved, as he would return the 200 florins in September with thanks.
“As a merchant you are a good counsellor,” are some of his words. The
Steiners are also crowding him into a corner and trying to force him
into a written agreement to let them have all his compositions; but he
had declared that he would not enter into such an arrangement until his
account had been settled, and to that end he had proposed to them that
they take two pieces which he had written for Hungary[58] and which
might be looked upon as two little operas. They had before then taken
four of the numbers. The debt to the Steiners amounted to 3000 florins,
but they had in the “most abominable manner” charged interest, to which
he would not consent. Part of the debt had been Karl’s mother’s[59]
which he had assumed because he wanted to show himself as kindly
disposed as possible, so that Karl’s interests would not be endangered.
Again he urges him to come to Baden and to put pantry and cellar in the
best of condition against September, for presumably he and his little
son would set up headquarters with him and had formed the noble resolve
to eat him out of house and home.

In this letter was enclosed a memorandum of the deposit of 300 florins
(from Peters) to his credit at Maisl’s; and another of no date, but
evidently written at about the same time, stated that the money was
at Maisl’s but in case of need he would rather make a loan than draw
it, “for the Mass will be ready on the 15th of next month.” He went to
Baden on September 1, but before then wrote again to Johann expressing
a wish to see him so that the affair with Steiner might be settled, it
being necessary to have the music to “The Ruins of Athens”[60] in print
by the end of October, when the theatre for which it had been prepared
would be opened. A week after his arrival in Baden, on September 8,
he writes that he had been disturbed at the delay, partly because of
his brother’s ill health, partly because he had had no report on the
commission undertaken with Steiner. Simrock had written again about the
Mass, but had mentioned the old price; if he were written to, however,
he thought he would increase it. Two singers had called on him that day
and asked to kiss his hands, “but as they were very pretty I suggested
that they kiss my lips.” Another letter obviously written about the
same time but a little later tells of his temporary apprehension lest
his brother had fallen out with Steiner. He also suspected that his
brother might be angered at his not having mentioned the loan. In
this dilemma, fearful for the Mass, he had written to Simrock that he
would let him have it for 1000 florins. “But as you write that you
want the Mass I am agreed, but I do not want you to lose anything by
it.” Matters are not yet straightened out at Steiner’s, as appears
from a letter which he encloses. Meanwhile the Josephstadt Theatre
has given him work to do which will be quite burdensome, in view of
his cure, Staudenheimer having advised him to take baths of one and a
half hour’s duration. However, he already had written a chorus with
dances and solo songs;[61] if his health allows, he will also write
a new overture. On October 6, he addresses his brother in a jocular
mood: “Best of little Brothers! Owner of all the lands in the Danube
near Krems! Director of the entire Austrian Pharmacy!” The letter
contains a proposition for Steiner concerning the Josephstadt Theatre
music. Steiner has two numbers already and has advertised one of them;
there are eight numbers left, including an overture. These Steiner can
have at the following rates: the overture 30 (perhaps he could get 40
ducats); four songs with instrumental accompaniment, 20 ducats each;
two wholly instrumental numbers, 10 ducats each:--total, 140 ducats.
If “King Stephen” is wanted there are twelve numbers of which four are
to be reckoned at 20 ducats each, the others at 10 ducats and one at 5
ducats--_summa summarum_ 155 ducats. “Concerning the new overture, you
may say to them that the old one could not remain, because in Hungary
the piece was given as a postlude, while here the theatre was opened
with it.... Ponder the matter of the Mass well, because I must answer
Simrock; unless you lose nothing, I beg of you not to undertake it.”

The story of the music composed and adapted for the Josephstadt Theatre
will be told in the chronological narrative of incidents belonging
to the year; as for the Mass let it be noted that after Johann had
expressed a desire to take it in hand we hear nothing more of the
correspondence with Peters for a long time. The autograph score was
ready; Beethoven had it copied, but continued making alterations in it;
not until the next year was it delivered into the hands of the Archduke
and new efforts made towards its publication.

At the beginning of 1822, Beethoven still lived at No. 244
Hauptstrasse, Landstrasse, Vienna. The first significant happening
to him in the new year was his election as honorary member of the
Musik-Verein of Steiermark in Gratz, whose diploma, couched in the
extravagantly sentimental verbiage of the day and country, bore date
January 1. He noted the conclusion of the C minor Sonata (Op. 111)
on the autograph manuscript on January 11. Bernhard Romberg, the
violoncello virtuoso, was in Vienna in the beginning of the year,
giving concerts with his daughter Bernhardine and a son of 11 years,
who was also a budding virtuoso on his father’s instrument. On February
12, Beethoven writes to his old friend that if he was not present at
the concert, it would be because he had been attacked with an earache,
the pain of which would be aggravated even by the concert-giver’s
tones. He concluded the letter with the wish in addition “to the
fullest tribute of applause, also the _metallic recognition_ which
high art seldom receives in these days.” If Hanslick is correct in his
history of concert life in Vienna, Beethoven’s wish was fulfilled:
Romberg’s earnings during the Vienna season amounted to 10,000 florins.

[Sidenote: ADVICES FROM LONDON THROUGH NEATE]

When Beethoven went to Oberdöbling he moved into the house Alleegasse
135, but for the time being kept his lodgings in town. In Oberdöbling
he began a treatment consisting of taking powders and drinking the
waters. He worked on the Mass, the Ninth Symphony, and on smaller
compositions from which he expected quicker returns. He was expected to
visit Archduke Rudolph twice a week, but the attendance was irregular.
Applications for his works came to him from other cities and Breitkopf
and Härtel sent the Chargé d’Affaires of the Saxon Legation to him
with a letter regretting that the business connection which formerly
existed had been discontinued and expressing a desire to renew it with
an opera. The messenger was Greisinger, Haydn’s first biographer, who
had made Beethoven’s acquaintance as a young man. He was musical, and
Beethoven applied to him for advice the next year, when he sent an
invitation to the Saxon Court for a subscription to the Mass in D. On
September 2, Beethoven received a letter from Charles Neate, which
was plainly an answer to an appeal which had been sent by Beethoven,
concerning the publication in London of three quartets. Letters
from Ries refer to the same quartets, which as yet existed only in
Beethoven’s intentions. Neate says that he had found it difficult
to obtain subscriptions for the works. He thought, however, that he
might still be able to raise £100, but could not get any money before
the arrival of the works in London. There was also apprehension that
the compositions would be copied in Vienna. Beethoven had referred
to a quartet and possibly some successors in his correspondence with
Peters, so that it is more than likely that a determination to return
to the quartet field had been formed by Beethoven before the practical
and material incentive came to him in the last month of the year from
Prince Galitzin--the incentive to which we owe three of the last five
Quartets.

There must now be recorded some of the facts connected with the
visit to Beethoven of a distinguished musical littérateur from
Leipsic--Friedrich Rochlitz. Rochlitz arrived in Vienna on May 24
and remained there till August 2. He wrote two letters about his
experiences in the Austrian capital, one under date of June 28, the
other of July 9. The latter contained his account of his meetings
with Beethoven and is reprinted in Vol. IV of his “Für Freunde der
Tonkunst.” He had never seen Beethoven in the flesh and was eager for
a meeting. A friend to whom he went (it is very obvious that it was
Haslinger) told him that Beethoven was in the country and had grown
so shy of human society that a visit to him might prove unavailing;
but it was Beethoven’s custom to come to Vienna every week and he was
then as a rule affable and approachable. He advised Rochlitz to wait,
and he did so until the following Saturday. The meeting was a pleasant
one and enabled Rochlitz to study Beethoven’s appearance and manner;
but the interview was suddenly terminated by Beethoven in the midst
of the visitor’s confession of his own admiration and the enthusiasm
which Beethoven’s symphonies created in Leipsic. From the beginning
Beethoven had listened, smiled and nodded, but after he had curtly
excused himself on the score of an engagement and departed abruptly,
Rochlitz learned that his auditor had not heard or understood a word
of all that he had said. A fortnight later Rochlitz met Franz Schubert
in the street, who told him that if he wanted to see Beethoven in
an unconstrained and jovial mood he should go along with him to an
eating-house where the great man dined. He went and found Beethoven
sitting with a party of friends whom the chronicler did not know.
Though he got a nod of recognition for his greeting he did not join
the party but took a seat near enough to observe Beethoven and hear
what he said, for he spoke in a loud voice. It was not a conversation
so much as a monologue to which he listened. Beethoven talked almost
incessantly; his companions laughed, smiled and nodded approval.

He philosophised and politicised in his manner. He spoke of England
and the English, whom he surrounded with incomparable glory--which
sounded strange at times. Then he told many anecdotes of the French
and the two occupations of Vienna. He was not amiably disposed
towards them. He talked freely, without the least restraint,
seasoning everything with highly original and naïve opinions and
comical conceits.

[Sidenote: CONVERSATION WITH FRIEDRICH ROCHLITZ]

After finishing his meal Beethoven approached Rochlitz and beckoned him
into a little anteroom, where conversation was carried on with the help
of a tablet which Beethoven produced. He began with praise of Leipsic
and its music, especially the performances in church, concert-room and
theatre; outside of these things he knows nothing of Leipsic, through
which he passed as a youth on his way to Vienna. (No doubt it was the
Berlin trip to which Beethoven referred, of which Rochlitz appears to
be ignorant.) Praise of Leipsic was followed by violent condemnation
of Vienna and its music.

Of my works you hear nothing. Now--in summer.

No; it’s the same in winter. What is there for them to hear?
“Fidelio”? they can’t perform it and do not want to hear it. The
symphonies? For these they have no time. The concertos? Everybody
grinds out his own productions. The solos? They’re out of fashion
long ago--and fashion is everything. At the best, Schuppanzigh
occasionally digs up a quartet, etc.

Rochlitz is here probably helping out his memory by drawing a bit
on his fancy; Schuppanzigh was at this time still in Russia, having
started on a tour through Germany, Poland and Russia in 1815, from
which he did not return till 1823. Rochlitz is interesting, but it is
well to revise his utterances by occasional appeals to known facts. He
goes on: Beethoven asked him if he lived in Weimar and Rochlitz shook
his head. “Then you do not know the great Goethe?” Rochlitz nodded
violently in affirmation that he did know the great Goethe. “I do, too;
I got acquainted with him in Carlsbad--God knows how long ago!” (But it
was not in Carlsbad that Beethoven met Goethe; it was in Teplitz and
ten years “ago.”) Beethoven continued: “I was not so deaf then as I am
now, but hard of hearing. How patient the great man was with me!...
How happy he made me then! I would have gone to my death for him; yes,
ten times! It was while I was in the ardor of this enthusiasm that I
thought out my music to his ‘Egmont’--and it is a success, isn’t it?” A
success, surely; but Beethoven is not likely to have forgotten that the
music to “Egmont” was two years old when he met Goethe. Rochlitz, it is
to be feared, is indulging his imagination again; but he is probably
correct on the whole. Let Beethoven proceed with his monologue:

Since that summer I read Goethe every day, when I read at all. He
has killed Klopstock for me. You are surprised? Now you smile? Aha!
You smile that I should have read Klopstock! I gave myself up to
him many years,--when I took my walks and at other times. Ah well!
I didn’t understand him always. He is so restless; and he always
begins too far away, from on high down; always _Maestoso_, D-flat
major! Isn’t it so? But he’s great, nevertheless, and uplifts the
soul. When I did not understand I divined pretty nearly. But why
should he always want to die? That will come soon enough. Well; at
least he always sounds well, etc. But Goethe:--he lives and wants
us all to live with him. That’s the reason he can be composed.
Nobody else can be so easily composed as he.

Rochlitz had sought Beethoven with a commission from Härtel:--that he
compose music for Goethe’s “Faust” like that written for “Egmont.” The
psychological moment for broaching the subject was arrived and Rochlitz
made the communication on the tablet.

He read. “Ha!” he cried, and threw his hands high in the air. “That
would be a piece of work! Something might come out of that!” He
continued for a while in this manner, elaborating his ideas at once
and with bowed head staring at the ceiling. “But,” he continued,
after a while, “I have been occupied for a considerable time with
three other big works; much of them is already hatched out--i. e.,
in my head. I must rid myself of them first; two large symphonies
differing from each other, and an oratorio. They will take a long
time; for, you see, for some time I can’t bring myself to write
easily. I sit and think, and think. The ideas are there, but they
will not go down on the paper. I dread the beginning of great
works; once begun, it’s all right.”

Most of this is in harmony with what we know from other sources. We
have seen how laboriously Beethoven developed the works of large
dimensions in this period; we know that he had thought of “Faust” as a
subject for composition as early as 1808[62] and that it pursued him
in his last years. But Härtel’s proposition sent through Greisinger
in the same year was for an opera, and it seems likely that the
“Faust” idea was independent of it and possibly an original conceit of
Rochlitz’s. Be that as it may, Rochlitz did make one proposition in
which his interest was personal. After his return to Leipsic he wrote
a letter to Haslinger on September 10, 1822, in which he expressed
the wish that Beethoven would give a musical setting to his poem “Der
erste Ton,” and, if Schindler is correct, he suggested to Beethoven
himself that he write music for his “Preis der Tonkunst.” Nothing came
of the suggestions, though it would appear that Rochlitz had discussed
both poems with Beethoven. There was a third meeting at which the
two, in company with another friend of Beethoven’s (Rochlitz says it
was Gebauer), made a promenade through a valley which lasted from ten
o’clock in the forenoon till six o’clock in the evening. Beethoven
enlivened the walk with conversation full of tirades against existing
conditions, humorous anecdotes and drolleries. “In all seriousness,
he seems amiable, or, if this word startle you, I say: The gloomy,
unlicked bear is so winning and confiding, growls and shakes his hairy
coat so harmlessly and curiously, that it is delightful, and one could
not help liking him even if he were but a bear and had done nothing but
what a bear can do.”

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S OPINION OF ROSSINI]

The meeting between Rochlitz and Beethoven took place in Baden; but
as we have seen, the latter did not begin his sojourn there until
September 1, and Rochlitz’s letter is dated July 9; so it would appear
that Beethoven had come from Oberdöbling on a visit to Baden; Schindler
says nothing to the contrary. Earlier in 1822 Beethoven received a
visit from a man who lies considerably nearer the sympathies of the
generation for which this book is written than Rochlitz. This man was
Rossini. His operas had been on the current list in Vienna for several
years, and with the coming of the composer in person, in the spring of
1822, the enthusiasm for him and his music had grown into a fanatical
adoration. Beethoven had seen the score of “Il Barbiere” and heard it
sung by the best Italian singers of the period. Moreover, he had a
high admiration for the Italian art of song and a very poor opinion of
German singers. In Barbaja’s troupe were Lablache, Rubini, Donzelli and
Ambroggio, and the Demoiselles Sontag, Ungher, Lalande and Dardanelli.
Rossini was on his wedding trip, having but recently married Colbran,
and his elegant manners and brilliant conversation had made him the
lion of aristocratic drawing-rooms in the Austrian capital. “Zelmira”
had been written especially for the Vienna season, though it had been
tried at the Teatro San Carlo in Naples in the preceding December.
It had its first performance at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre on April
13.[63] Several of Beethoven’s utterances concerning the musician,
who no doubt did much to divert the taste of the masses away from the
German master’s compositions, have been preserved. Seyfried recorded
that in answer to the question. “What is Rossini?” Beethoven replied,
“A good scene-painter,” and Seyfried also makes note of this utterance:
“The Bohemians are born musicians; the Italians ought to take them as
models. What have they to show for their famous conservatories? Behold
their idol--Rossini! If Dame Fortune had not given him a pretty talent
and pretty melodies by the bushel, what he learned at school would
have brought him nothing but potatoes for his big belly!” Schindler
says that after reading the score of “Il Barbiere” Beethoven said:
“Rossini would have been a great composer if his teacher had frequently
applied some blows _ad posteriora_.” To Freudenberg at Baden in 1824
he remarked: “Rossini is a talented and a melodious composer; his
music suits the frivolous and sensuous spirit of the times, and his
productivity is so great that he needs only as many weeks as the
Germans need years to write an opera.”

The Rossini craze was no doubt largely responsible for some of
Beethoven’s outbreaks concerning the taste of the Viennese, but on
the whole he does not seem seriously to have been disturbed by it.
Schindler cites him as remarking on the change in the popular attitude:
“Well, they can not rob me of my place in musical history.” As for the
Italian singers he thought so much of them that he told Caroline Ungher
that he would write an Italian opera for Barbaja’s company.

As for Rossini, he had heard some of Beethoven’s quartets played by
Mayseder and his associates, and had enjoyed them enthusiastically. It
was therefore natural enough that he should want to visit the composer.
Schindler says that he went twice with Artaria to call upon him, after
Artaria had each time asked permission, but that on both occasions
Beethoven had asked to be excused from receiving him--a circumstance
which had given rise to considerable comment in Vienna. The story
is not true, but that it was current in Vienna four years afterward
appears from an entry in a Conversation Book of August 1826 where
somebody asks: “It is true, isn’t it, that Rossini wanted to visit you
and you refused to see him?” There is no written answer. We repeat:
the story is not true, though both Nohl and Wasielewski accepted it
without demur. Twice, at least, Rossini publicly denied it. In 1867 Dr.
Eduard Hanslick visited him with two friends in Paris. Concerning the
interview, Hanslick wrote:[64]

Suddenly, as if he intentionally wanted to call attention to
something loftier, he asked if the Mozart monument at Vienna
was finished? And Beethoven’s? We three Austrians looked rather
embarrassed. “I remember Beethoven well,” continued Rossini after
a pause, “although it is nearly half a century ago. On my visit to
Vienna I hastened to look him up.”

“And he did not receive you, as Schindler and other biographers
assure us.”

“On the contrary,” said Rossini, correcting me: “I had Carpani, the
Italian poet with whom I had already called upon Salieri, introduce
me, and he received me at once and very politely. True, the visit
did not last very long, for conversation with Beethoven was nothing
less than painful. His hearing was particularly bad on that day
and in spite of my loudest shoutings he could not understand me;
his little practice in Italian may have made conversation more
difficult.”

This confirms what Rossini told Ferdinand Hiller in 1856:[65]

During my sojourn in Vienna I had myself introduced to him by old
Calpani [_sic_]; but between his deafness and my ignorance of
German, conversation was impossible. But I am glad that I saw him,
at least.

[Sidenote: ALLEGED MEETING OF BEETHOVEN AND SCHUBERT]

Quite as inaccurate is a statement of Schindler’s touching a meeting
between Schubert and Beethoven in this year. Schindler’s story is to
the effect that Schubert, accompanied by Diabelli, went to Beethoven
and handed him the variations for pianoforte, four hands, which he had
dedicated to him; but that Schubert was so overwhelmed at the majestic
appearance of Beethoven that his courage oozed away and he was scarcely
able to write the answers to the questions which were put to him.
At length, when Beethoven pointed out a trifling error in harmony,
remarking that it was “not a mortal sin,” Schubert lost control of
himself completely, regained his composure only after he had left the
house, and never again had courage enough to appear in Beethoven’s
presence. As opposed to this, Heinrich von Kreissle, Schubert’s
biographer, adduces the testimony of Joseph Hüttenbrenner, a close
friend of Schubert’s, who had it from the song composer himself that
he had gone to Beethoven’s house with the variations, but the great
man was not at home and the variations were left with the servant.
He had neither seen Beethoven nor spoken with him, but learned with
delight afterwards that Beethoven had been pleased with the variations
and often played them with his nephew Karl. Now, had Schindler been an
eyewitness of the scene which he describes, he would have mentioned the
fact; but he was not yet living with Beethoven.

While in Baden, Beethoven began the work which was to call him
back into public notice. This was the music for the opening of the
Josephstadt Theatre, which the director of the theatre, Carl Friedrich
Hensler, director also of the combined theatres of Pressburg and Baden,
asked of him immediately after his arrival at the watering-place.
Hensler (1761-1825) was a popular dramatist as well as manager and an
old acquaintance of Beethoven’s, by whom he was greatly respected.
He had bought the privilege of the Josephstadt Theatre in Vienna.
Carl Meisl, who was a Commissioner of the Royal Imperial Navy, had
written two festival pieces for the opening, which had been set down
for October 3, 1822, the name-day of the Emperor. The first piece was
a paraphrase of Kotzebue’s “Ruins of Athens,” written for the opening
of the theatre in Pesth in 1812, for which Beethoven had composed the
music. Meisl took Kotzebue’s text and made such alterations in it as
were necessary to change “The Ruins of Athens” into “The Consecration
of the House.” Nottebohm’s reprint in “Zweite Beethoveniana” (p. 385
_et seq._) enables a comparison to be made with the piece as it left
the hands of Meisl and the original. The new words did not always fit
the music and caused Beethoven considerable concern. A choral dance:

Wo sich die Pulse
jugendlich jagen,
Schwebet im Tanze
das Leben dahin, etc.

was introduced and to this Beethoven had to write new music, which
he did in September. He also revised, altered and extended the march
with chorus.[66] Beethoven wrote a new overture also, that known as
“Consecration of the House,” putting aside the overture to “The Ruins
of Athens” because that play had served as a second piece, or epilogue,
at Pesth. Schindler says he began work on this occasional music in
July, after the last touches had been given to the Mass; but progress
was not as rapid as was desirable because of the extreme hot weather.
He also says it was in Baden and that he was there with him. The
letters to Johann show, however, that Beethoven did not go to Baden
till September 1, having before that been in Oberdöbling. But he wrote
the new pieces in Baden. On a revised copy of the chorus “Wo sich die
Pulse” Beethoven wrote: “Written towards the end of September, 1823,
performed on October 3 at the Josephstadt Theatre.” The 1823 should be
1822, of course, but singularly enough the same blunder was made on a
copy of the overture and another composition, the “Gratulatory Minuet,”
which was written about the same time. The explanation is probably
that offered by Nottebohm, viz.: that Beethoven dated the copies
when he sent them to the Archduke. Beethoven’s remark in a letter to
Johann that he had finished the chorus with dances and would write the
overture if his health allowed, also fixes the date of the composition
of the overture in September. This Schindler, though in error about the
work done in July, confirms in this anecdote about the origin of the
overture:

Meanwhile September was come. It was therefore time to go to work
on the new overture, for the master had long ago seen that that
to “The Ruins of Athens” was for obvious reasons unsuitable. One
day, while I was walking with him and his nephew in the lovely
Helenenthal near Baden, Beethoven told us to go on in advance and
join him at an appointed place. It was not long before he overtook
us, remarking that he had written down two motives for an overture.
At the same time he expressed himself also as to the manner in
which he purposed treating them--one in the free style and one
in the strict, and, indeed, in Handel’s. As well as his voice
permitted he sang the two motives and then asked us which we liked
the better. This shows the roseate mood into which for the moment
he was thrown by the discovery of two gems for which, perhaps, he
had been hunting a long time. The nephew decided in favor of both,
while I expressed a desire to see the fugal theme worked out for
the purpose mentioned. It is not to be understood that Beethoven
wrote the overture “Zur Weihe des Hauses” as he did because I
wanted it so, but because he had long cherished the plan to write
an overture in the strict, expressly in the Handelian, style.

The overture was written. “The newly organized orchestra of the
Josephstadt Theatre did not receive it till the afternoon before the
opening, and with innumerable mistakes in every part. The rehearsal
which took place in the presence of an almost filled parterre, scarcely
sufficed for the correction of the worst of the copyist’s errors.” The
overture and chorus written for “The Consecration of the House” are
“occasionals” and were conceived and wrought out in a remarkably short
time for that period in Beethoven’s activities. The first was offered
for publication to Steiner and, with other pieces, to Diabelli. The
negotiations failed and the overture finally appeared from the press of
Schott in 1825, with a dedication to Prince Galitzin.

[Sidenote: OPENING OF THE JOSEPHSTADT THEATRE]

The performance of “The Consecration of the House” took place as
projected, on October 3, the eve of the Emperor’s name-day. All of
the 400 reserved seats and 14 boxes had been sold several weeks
before. Beethoven had reserved the direction for himself and sat at
the pianoforte, the greater part of the orchestra within view, his
left ear turned towards the stage. He was still able to hear a little
with that ear, as we know from the fact related by Schindler, that he
was fond of listening to Cherubini’s overture to “Medea” played by a
musical clock which stood in a restaurant adjoining the Josephstadt
Theatre. Chapelmaster Franz Gläser stood at his right, and Schindler,
who had recently abandoned the law, led the first violins. At the
dress rehearsal Fanny Heckermann sang timidly and dragged perceptibly
in the duet. Beethoven observed this and called the singer to him,
pointed out the places in which he wanted more animation, spoke some
words of encouragement and advised her to follow the tenor, who was
an experienced singer. He then had the number repeated and on its
conclusion remarked: “Well done, this time, Fräulein Heckermann!” The
tenor was Michael Greiner, with whom Beethoven was acquainted, from
Baden, and Fräulein Kaiser sang the part of _Pallas_. The rehearsal
and the performance demonstrated plainly, Schindler says, that under
no circumstances was Beethoven able longer to conduct large bodies
of performers. The representation, despite the enthusiasm of the
performers, stimulated by Beethoven’s encouraging speeches, was
not a success. Beethoven would take none of the fault to himself,
however, though his anxiety led him to hold back the music despite
the exertions of his two leaders, whom he admonished against too much
precipitancy, of which Schindler protests they were not guilty. There
were demonstrations of enthusiasm at the close and Beethoven was led
before the curtain by Director Hensler. The work was repeated on
October 4, 5 and 6. Beethoven’s friendly feeling for Hensler gave rise
to a new orchestral composition a few weeks later. The members of the
company paid a tribute to their director on his name-day, November 3.
After a performance of Meisl’s drama “1722, 1822, 1922,” the audience
having departed, the director was called to the festively decorated
and illuminated stage, and surrounded by his company in gala dress.
A poetical address was read to him by the stage-manager. After he
had gone back to his lodgings, the orchestra and chorus serenaded
him, the programme consisting of an overture to “The Prodigal Son” by
Chapelmaster Drechsel, a concerto for flute by Chapelmaster Gläser,
and what Bäuerle’s “Theaterzeitung” called “a glorious new symphony”
composed for the occasion by Beethoven, the whole ending with the
march and chorus from Mozart’s “Titus.” The “new symphony” was the
“Gratulatory Minuet” of which mention has been made. Nothing is said
in the accounts about Beethoven’s presence at the serenade, and as
“Fidelio” was performed that night at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre, his
absence might easily be explained. On the next day[67] Hensler gave a
dinner in the property-room of the theatre at 3 p.m. Beethoven, Gläser,
Bäuerle, Gleich, Meisl, Hopp and others were present. Beethoven had
a seat directly under the musical clock. Gläser told Reubl (Reichl?)
who provided the entertainment to set the clock to the overture to
“Fidelio” and then wrote to Beethoven to listen, as he would soon hear
it. Beethoven listened and then said: “It plays it better than the
orchestra in the Kärnthnerthor.”

The “Gratulatory Minuet” was offered to Peters in the letter of
December 20. Beethoven was evidently eager to realize quickly on a work
which had cost him but little labor--the product of a period in which
his fancy seemed to have regained its old-time fecundity and he his
old-time delight in work. He offered it elsewhere and gave a copy (the
one that he misdated) to Archduke Rudolph for his collection. Artaria
published it in 1835 under the title “Allegretto (Gratulations-Menuet)”
with a dedication to Carl Holz. The title on the autograph reads:
“Tempo di Minuetto quasi Allegretto.” “Allegro non troppo” was
originally written but was scratched out and “Gratulations-Menuet”
written in its place.

[Sidenote: UNABLE TO CONDUCT “FIDELIO”]

Beethoven’s absence from the complimentary function to Hensler in
the theatre may be explained by the revival of “Fidelio” which took
place on the same night, November 3, after an absence from the stage
of three years (not eight, as Schindler says), though we do not know
that he was present. It was a benefit performance for Wilhelmine
Schröder, then 17 years old, afterwards the famous dramatic singer
Madame Schröder-Devrient. Haitzinger sang _Florestan_, Zeltner _Rocco_,
Forti _Pizarro_. Rauscher _Jaquino_, Nestroy _the Minister_, Fräulein
Demmer _Marcelline_ and Fräulein Schröder _Leonore_. Schindler tells
a pathetic tale concerning the dress rehearsal. Together with his
friends, mindful of the happenings in the Hall of the University
in 1819 and in the Josephstadt Theatre only a short time before,
Schindler advised Beethoven not to attempt to conduct the performance.
He hesitated for a few days, then announced his intention to direct
with the help of Umlauf. Schindler escorted him to the rehearsal. The
overture went well, the orchestra being well trained in it, but at the
first duet it became painfully manifest that Beethoven heard nothing
of what was going on on the stage. He slackened his beat and the
orchestra obeyed; the singers urged the movement onward. Umlauf stopped
the performance at the rappings on the jailor’s lodge-gate but gave no
reason to Beethoven. At the same place on the repetition there was the
same confusion. Let Schindler continue the narrative, the correctness
of which there seems to be no reason to question:

The impossibility of going ahead with the author of the work
was evident. But how, in what manner inform him of the fact?
Neither Duport, the director, nor Umlauf was willing to speak
the saddening words: “It will not do; go away, you unhappy man!”
Beethoven, already uneasy in his seat, turned now to the right
now to the left, scrutinizing the faces to learn the cause of the
interruption. Everywhere silence. I had approached near him in
the orchestra. He banded me his note-book with an indication that
I write what the trouble was. Hastily I wrote in effect: “Please
do not go on; more at home.” With a bound he was in the parterre
and said merely: “Out, quick!” Without stopping he ran towards his
lodgings, Pfarrgasse, Vorstadt Leimgrube. Inside he threw himself
on the sofa, covered his face with his hands and remained in this
attitude till we sat down to eat. During the meal not a word
came from his lips; he was a picture of profound melancholy and
depression. When I tried to go away after the meal he begged me not
to leave him until it was time to go to the theatre. At parting he
asked me to go with him next day to his physician, Dr. Smetana,
who had gained some repute as an aurist.

Some details of the representation may be learned from the account in
the “Theaterzeitung” of November 9. The day was the name-day of the
Empress; the square about the Opera-house was illuminated; the national
hymn, “Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser,” was sung; the overture received
such applause that it had to be repeated; the great duet and the canon
quartet also, and the soprano and tenor were recalled at the end of the
opera. Was Beethoven present? The question cannot be answered. Alfred
von Wolzogen in his biography of Wilhelmine Schröder-Devrient quotes
from Claire von Glümer, who had access to the singer’s notes, in his
account of the affair. The incident of the rehearsal is told with a
variation which strengthens Schindler’s narrative. At the performance,
Claire von Glümer says, Beethoven sat behind the chapelmaster in the
orchestra so deeply wrapped in his cloak that only his gleaming eyes
were visible. The youthful prima donna was unspeakably alarmed, but
scarcely had she uttered her first words than she felt her whole body
infused with marvellous power. Beethoven--the public--everything
vanished from view. She forgot that she had studied the rôle--she was
transformed into _Leonore_--she lived, she suffered the part, scene
after scene. Beethoven, the story proceeds, though he had heard not a
word but had observed the soul of her singing in her transfigured face,
had recognized his _Leonore_ in her.

After the performance he went to her; his usually threatening
eyes smiled upon her, he patted her cheeks, thanked her for her
_Fidelio_ and promised to compose a new opera for her--a promise
which, unfortunately was never fulfilled. Wilhelmine never met the
master again, but of all the evidences of homage paid to the famous
woman in later years her most precious recollection were the words
of appreciation which Beethoven spoke to her.

The tale is amiable, and plausible enough; standing alone there
would seem to be no ground for doubting its correctness. But there
are circumstances which give our credence pause. Schindler, who was
Beethoven’s constant companion in those days, who presents the story
of the rehearsal so convincingly, and who waited until it was time
to go to the theatre, says not a word about Beethoven’s presence at
the representation. Would he, after suffering such a heartbreaking
humiliation at the rehearsal, have gone to the theatre and taken a
conspicuous place in the orchestra? It does not seem likely. Moreover,
in a letter published in the “Neue Berliner Musikzeitung” of July 30,
1851, Schindler, discussing an impersonation of _Fidelio_ by Frau
Köster-Schlegel in Frankfort, says: “It may be remarked in passing
that Beethoven never saw Schröder-Devrient as _Fidelio_, but was
dissatisfied with her conception of the character as he had learned
to know it from the public prints and oral communications. His ideal
was not an operatic heroine, etc.” This would seem to be conclusive,
were there not evidence that Schindler’s memory had played him false
again. “Fidelio” was repeated on November 4, and also on November
26 and December 17, 1822, and March 3 and 18, 1823, and Bäuerle’s
“Theaterzeitung” distinctly states that “Beethoven attended the second
performance, sitting in a box in the first tier.” Moreover, Louis
Schlösser, who was at this performance, adds confirmation by telling
how he saw Beethoven leaving the theatre in the company of Schindler
and von Breuning. Beethoven may not have been able to form an opinion
of a performance which he could not hear, but the testimony of
Schindler that he never saw Schröder-Devrient in the role of _Fidelio_
is greatly weakened by this proved fact. But would he have made such a
statement if Beethoven had been present at the first performance and
paid so spectacular a tribute to the singer? It is easier to imagine
that Schindler’s memory was treacherous concerning a later performance.
At best, the evidence is inconclusive, because contradictory. In
March, 1823, Chapelmaster Reuling remarks in a Conversation Book: “I
saw you in the theatre at the first performance of ‘Fidelio’.” Did
he mean the first performance in November, 1822, or the first of the
two performances in the month in which he was writing--March, 1823?
Schröder-Devrient in her prime is reputed to have been the greatest of
all _Fidelios_; but she did not reach her full artistic stature until
after Beethoven’s death.

[Sidenote: TREATMENT FOR DEAFNESS RESUMED]

Following Schindler’s narrative we learn that Beethoven’s woeful
experience at the rehearsal led to a resolution on his part to make
another effort to be healed of his deafness. He went to Dr. Smetana,
who prescribed medicaments to be taken inwardly, thereby indicating,
as Schindler asserts, that he had no expectation of effecting a cure,
but wanted only to occupy Beethoven’s mind, knowing what to expect
from so impatient, wilful and absent-minded a patient; for Beethoven
was as unready to follow a physician’s advice as a musician’s, and was
more likely to injure himself with overdoses of drugs than to invite
the benefit which the practitioner hoped for by obedience to the
prescription. The usual thing happened; not only with Dr. Smetana’s
treatment, but also with that of the priest, Pater Weiss, whom he had
consulted some 18 years before and to whom he now returned. For a
while he thought that the oil which the priest dropped into his ears
was beneficial, and Pater Weiss himself expressed the belief that
the left ear, at least, might permanently be helped; but Beethoven
grew skeptical, as he always did unless he experienced immediate
relief, his work monopolized his attention, and despite the priest’s
solicitations he abandoned the treatment and yielded himself to his
fate. Thenceforward no one heard him lament because of his deafness.

The compositions which were in Beethoven’s hands at the close of the
year were those which had occupied him in the earlier months. The Mass,
several times completed but never complete so long as it was within
reach, received what must now be looked upon as its finishing touches;
progress was made on the Ninth Symphony and thought given to a quartet,
perhaps several quartets. The Bagatelles for Pianoforte grouped under
Op. 119, some of which had been published a year before (Nos. 7-11),
were finished; Nos. 1 to 6 were ready for the publisher by the end of
1822--the autograph manuscript bearing the inscription “Kleinigkeiten,
1822 Novemb.” Nottebohm thinks that Nos. 2 to 5 were conceived between
1800 and 1804; a sketch for No. 5 (C minor, _Risoluto_) is found among
sketches made in 1802 for the Sonata in C minor Op. 30; Lenz says
sketches for No. 3 (in D, _a l’Allemande_) are among sketches for the
last movement of the “Eroica” Symphony; No. 6 (G major) is sketched on
a sheet containing experimental studies for a passage in the _Credo_ of
the Mass; sketches for Nos. 2 and 4 are among suggestions of a melody
for Goethe’s “Erlkönig,” indicating an early period which cannot be
determined. Of Nos. 7-11, enough has been said in a previous chapter.
The piece published as No. 12 and added to the set by Diabelli after
Beethoven’s death was originally a song with pianoforte accompaniment
and had its origin in 1800 at the latest. Whether or not Beethoven made
the pianoforte piece out of the projected song, on which point nothing
of significance can be said, it is certain that it does not belong to
the set, which consists of 11 numbers only in the old editions and in
the manuscripts of the Rudolphinian Collection.

Beethoven offered a number of Bagatelles to Peters--at first four,
then a larger number; he sent six to the publisher on February 15,
1823. Peters returned them--Beethoven receiving them on March 19--with
the remark that they were not worth the price asked for them and
that Beethoven ought to consider it beneath his dignity to waste his
time on such trifles; anybody could write them. Schindler says that
Peters’s action aggrieved Beethoven, which is easily believed; but
Schindler confounded the Bagatelles Op. 119 with the set, Op. 126,
works of distinctly a higher order which were not composed at the time.
On February 25, 1823, Beethoven sent 11 Bagatelles to Ries in London
with instructions to sell them as best he could. Naturally, Op. 119 is
meant. On May 7, 1823, six were offered to Lissner in St. Petersburg.
Schlesinger published the set in Paris at the end of 1823, as Op. 112,
and Sauer and Leidesdorf issued them almost simultaneously in Vienna
with the same opus number. The number 119 appears to have been assigned
to the set after an agreement had been reached with Steiner concerning
the works now numbered 112 to 118. The last known song by Beethoven,
“Der Kuss,” was finished at this time, though written down practically
as we know it in 1798. Sketches involving the few changes made are
found among some for the overture “The Consecration of the House”
and the Ninth Symphony. The autograph is dated “December, 1822.” It
was sent to Peters, who did not print it; in 1825 it was sent to the
Schotts, numbered 128, and they published it.

[Sidenote: GALITZIN AND AN ORATORIO FOR BOSTON]

In the last weeks of the year a connection was established which
was destined to be of great influence in Beethoven’s final creative
activities. Prince Nicolas Boris Galitzin, born in 1795, who as a young
man had taken part in the Napoleonic wars, was an influential factor
in the musical life of St. Petersburg. He played the violoncello, and
his wife (_née_ Princess Saltykow) was an admirable pianist. Prince
Galitzin was an ardent admirer of Beethoven’s music and had arranged
some of the works written for the pianoforte for strings. Whether
or not he had made the personal acquaintance of Beethoven has not
been established, but wanting to have as his private property some
composition by the master whom he revered, he addressed a letter to
Beethoven on November 9, 1822, saying that as a passionate amateur of
music and an admirer of the master’s talent he asked him to compose for
him one, two or three string quartets, for which he would be pleased
to pay any sum demanded and that he would accept the dedication of the
works with gratitude. Beethoven’s answer, dated January 25, 1823, has
not been found but it is known that he accepted the commission and
fixed the honorarium at 50 ducats each. This is the prologue to the
story of the last Quartets.

In Charles C. Perkins’s “History of the Handel and Haydn Society, of
Boston,” Vol. I, p. 87, the author writes: “The most interesting matter
connected with the history of the society in the year 1823 ... is the
fact that Beethoven was commissioned to write an oratorio for it.”
The date is obviously wrong; it should be 1822, for in a letter dated
December 20, 1822, as will appear in the next chapter of this work,
Beethoven tells Ries that he has received requests from all parts of
Europe “and even from North America.” The historian of the Boston
Society adds:

That the commission was given is certain, but as it is not
mentioned in the records, Mr. A. W. Thayer is probably right in
thinking that it was given unofficially by Richardson and two or
three other members. In October 1854 Mr. Thayer wrote a letter to
Mr. J. S. Dwight, the well-known editor of the “Musical Journal,”
to say that he had questioned Schindler, Beethoven’s biographer,
on the subject and had learned from him that in 1823 a Boston
banker, whose name was unknown to him, having occasion to write
to Geymüller, a Viennese banker, had sent an order to the great
musician to compose an oratorio for somebody or some society in
Boston and it was forwarded to its destination.... Wishing to know
the truth about the matter I wrote to Mr. Thayer, then, as now, U.
S. Consul at Trieste, for information, and in reply learned that in
one of Beethoven’s note books he had found this passage: “Bühler
writes: ‘The oratorio for Boston?’ (Beethoven) ‘I cannot write what
I should like best to write, but that which the pressing need of
money obliges me to write. This is not saying that I write only for
money. When this period is past I hope to write what for me and for
art is above all--Faust.’”

The passages cited are from a Conversation Book used in the early
days of April, 1823. In the fall of that year, on November 5, the
“Morgenblatt für Gebildete Leser” closed an article on Beethoven with
the words: “A symphony, quartets, a Biblical oratorio, sent to him in
English by the consul of the United States, observe the United States,
and possibly one of Grillparzer’s poems, may be expected.”

FOOTNOTES:

[42] For this arraignment and defence (if defence it be) of Beethoven
the present Editor wishes to assume entire responsibility. Thayer’s
notes fail him here, but the indictment, he is convinced, is not only
demanded by historical truth but also wholly within the spirit of
Thayer as manifested in the earlier volumes of this work. Dr. Deiters
makes no effort to conceal the facts, though he does not marshal them
so as to present the moral delinquency in the strong light in which
it appears when Beethoven’s words and deeds are brought sharply into
juxtaposition; nevertheless, after presenting a plea in extenuation
fully and fairly, he says: “We pay the tribute of our profoundest
sympathy for Beethoven under these circumstances; we know sufficiently
well the noble impulses of his soul in all other fields; we are aware
of the reasons which compelled him to try everything which promised
to better his condition; but the conscientious reporter cannot ignore
facts which lie notoriously before him, and, hard as it may be, can not
acquit Beethoven of the reproach that his conduct was not in harmony
with the principles of strict justice and uprightness.”

[43] This has been made possible for the editor by the courtesy of
the present representatives of the venerable house in Bonn, viz.:
N. Simrock G. m. b. H. in Berlin, who in 1909 issued a handsome
book containing all the letters which passed between N. Simrock and
Beethoven in a period beginning in 1794 and ending in 1823. Nicolaus
Simrock, the reader may be reminded, was a friend of Beethoven in his
childhood and a colleague in the orchestra at Bonn.

[44] Youthful works.

[45] Probably “Primo amore,” though it has orchestral accompaniment.

[46] Composed in 1814 in memory of Baroness Pasqualati.

[47] The Romances for Violin Op. 40 and 50 having been published long
before, Beethoven must have had another one in mind.

[48] The Trio for wind-instruments, Op. 87, already in print. Beethoven
had composed variations on “Là ci darem” from “Don Giovanni” for
the same instruments and the composition was called a Terzetto when
performed in 1797. This was probably in his mind.

[49] The last three sonatas as we know them being out of the question,
Beethoven must have thought himself in readiness to write another if it
was desired; there was no lack of material in his sketchbooks.

[50] Degen was a popular aëronaut who had long before excited the
interest of Beethoven.

[51] Evidences of the second mass may be found in Nottebohm’s “Zweit.
Beeth.,” pages 152 and 541-543.

[52] Beethoven indulges in his propensity for puns: “Wäre mein Gehalt
nicht ganz ohne Gehalt.”

[53] A composition written for a serenade given to Hensler, Director of
the Josephstädter Theatre, as will appear later.

[54] Nottebohm says that the three songs were “Opferlied,” “Bundeslied”
and “Der Kuss.” Peters published none of them. The first appeared as
Op. 121, the second as Op. 122, the third as Op. 128, published by
Schott and Sons in 1825. This was the firm which eventually got the
Mass in D.

[55] In a note to Thayer.

[56] No. 34 in Portfolio I of the Schindler papers in Berlin is a note
as follows: “Mr. v. Schindler of course must not be mentioned in the
presence (or by) the two persons, but I, certainly.” To this Schindler
attached the following explanation: “The above lines were addressed to
Police Commissioner Ungermann as an appendix to a detailed report to
him. The commissioner was requested by official or other means to help
him induce his brother to watch over the moral conduct of his wife, or
to have it overseen by others, since her excesses had reached a pass
which already subjected her and her husband to public censure. But the
efforts of Beethoven and the public official were fruitless because his
brother could not be persuaded to take energetic action. The excesses
of the licentious woman grew greater from year to year until they led,
in 1823, to open scandal in the barracks where Madame van Beethoven had
visited her lovers (officers), with whom she was seen on the public
promenades. Then our Beethoven took energetic steps with his brother,
trying to persuade him to divorce his vicious wife, but made shipwreck
on the indolence of this man, who was himself morally depraved.”

[57] Here, as in a former case, the editor of this English edition is
seeking to reproduce the spirit of Thayer, who was so eager to undo
some of the injustice which had been visited upon Beethoven’s brothers
Karl and Johann that he undertook their defense in a brochure entitled
“Ein kritischer Beitrag zur Beethovenliteratur,” published in Berlin in
1877. He also spoke with emphasis on the subject in a review of Nohl’s
biography of Beethoven which he contributed to the “New York Tribune”
in the spring of 1881.

[58] “King Stephen” and “The Ruins of Athens.”

[59] 300 florins.

[60] Which he had adapted to “Die Weihe des Hauses.”

[61] “Wo sich die Pulse,” which Beethoven inscribed as having been
written “Towards the end of September.”

[62] Nohl, II, 50.

[63] Archduke Rudolph wrote variations on one of the melodies from the
opera, which Beethoven corrected.

[64] In an article in the “Neue Freie Presse” of July 21, 1867,
reprinted in “Aus dem Concertsaal,” page 594.

[65] “Aus dem Tonleben, etc.,” II, 49.

[66] Published as Op. 114, and designated as “new” by Beethoven, though
not a measure had been added, but only a few lines of text, and the
choral music simplified. Steiner published pianoforte arrangements for
two and four hands in 1822, and the score in 1824.

[67] This anecdote was told to Thayer on October 28, 1859 by an old
actor named Hopp who was present on the occasion.

Chapter IV

The Solemn Mass in D--A Royal Subscription--More Negotiations with
England--Opera Projects--Grillparzer’s “Melusine”--The Diabelli
Variations--Summer Visitors--An Englishman’s Account--Weber and
Julius Benedict--Ries and the Ninth Symphony--Franz Liszt and
Beethoven’s Kiss--The Year 1823.

When the year 1823 opens, the Mass in D is supposedly finished and
negotiations for its publication have been carried on in a manner the
contemplation of which must affect even the casual reader grievously.
The work had been originally intended for the functions attending the
installation of Archduke Rudolph as Archbishop of Olmütz--not merely
as a personal tribute to the imperial, archepiscopal pupil, but for
actual performance at the ceremony of inthronization--a fact which
ought to be borne in mind during its study, for it throws light upon
Beethoven’s attitude towards the Catholic Church (at least so far as
that church’s rubrics are concerned) as well as towards religion in
general and art as its handmaiden and mistress. Archduke Rudolph had
been chosen Cardinal on April 24, 1819, and Archbishop on June 4 of
the same year; he was installed as head of the see of Olmütz on March
20, 1820; but the fact of his selection for the dignities was known in
Vienna amongst his friends as early as the middle of 1818. When the
story of the year 1823 opens, therefore, Beethoven’s plan is nearly
five years old and Archduke Rudolph has been archbishop nearly a year.
We first hear of the Mass this year in a letter dated February 27, when
Beethoven apologizes to his august pupil for not having waited upon
him. He had delayed his visit, he said, because he wanted to send him a
copy of the Mass; but this had been held back by corrections and other
circumstances. Accompanying the letter were the copies of the overture
to “The Consecration of the House” and the “Gratulatory Minuet.”
Finally, on March 19, 1823, on the very eve of the first anniversary of
the installation, Beethoven placed a manuscript copy of the Mass in
the Archduke’s hands. In the catalogue of the Rudolphinian Collection,
now preserved by the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna, it is
entered thus: “_Missa Solemnis_. Partitur. MS. This beautifully written
MS. was delivered by the composer himself on March 19, 1823.”

The plan to write the Mass for the installation ceremonies seems to
have been original with Beethoven; it was not suggested by the Archduke
or any of his friends, so far as has ever been learned. He began work
upon it at once, for Schindler says he saw the beginning of the score
in the fall of 1818. Nottebohm’s study of all the sketches which
have been discovered (save a number now preserved in the Beethoven
House in Bonn which do not add materially to our knowledge) led him
to conclusions which may be summed up as follows: The movements were
taken up in the order in which the various portions of the text appear
in the Roman missal, but work was prosecuted on several movements
simultaneously. The _Kyrie_ was begun at the earliest in the middle
of 1818, i. e., shortly after the fact of the Archduke’s appointment
became known; the _Gloria_ was completely sketched by the end of 1819,
the _Credo_ in 1820; the entire Mass was complete in sketch-form in
the beginning of 1822. While sketching the Mass Beethoven composed the
Pianoforte Sonatas, Op. 109, 110 and 111, the Variations, Op. 107, No.
8, and several other small pieces, including the canons “O, Tobias,”
“Gehabt euch wohl,” “Tugend ist kein leerer Name,” and “Gedenkt heute
an Baden.” But with the elaboration of the sketches the Mass was not
really finished, for subsequently Beethoven undertook many changes.
The _Allegro molto_ which enters in the _Credo_ at the words _et
ascendit_ is shorter in the autograph than in the printed edition. At
the entrance of the words _et iterum_ and _cujus regni_ the autograph
is in each case two measures shorter than in the printed score. In the
autograph, and also in the copy which Beethoven gave to the Archduke,
the trombones do not enter till the words _judicare vivos et mortuos_.
There are no trombones in the _Gloria_. The trombone passage which
now appears just before the entrance of the chorus on _judicare_ was
formerly set for the horns. After the words _et mortuos_ the trombones
are silent till the end of the _Credo_ in the autograph; they enter
again in the beginning of the _Sanctus_, but are silent at the next
_Allegro_. They occur in the _Benedictus_, but are wanting in the
_Agnus Dei_. From the nature of these supplementary alterations it is
to be concluded that considerable time must have elapsed before they
could all be made and the Mass be given the shape in which we know it.
Holding to the date on which the copy was delivered to the Archduke
(March 19, 1823), the earliest date at which the Mass can have received
its definitive shape must be set down as the middle of 1823. Beethoven,
therefore, devoted about five years to its composition. He made so many
changes in the tympani part of the _Agnus Dei_ that he wore a hole in
the very thick paper, his aim being, apparently, by means of a vague
rhythm to suggest the distance of the disturbers of the peace. That
he was sincere in his purpose to provide a mass for the installation
ceremonies is to be found, outside of Schindler’s statement, in a
letter to the Archduke written in 1819, in which he says:

The day on which a high mass of my composition is performed at the
ceremony for Y. I. H. will be to me the most beautiful in my life
and God will enlighten me so that my poor powers may contribute to
the glory of this solemn day.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN AND RELIGION]

Something was said, in the conclusion of the chapter of this biography
devoted to a review of the incidents of the years 1807 to 1809,
concerning the views Beethoven entertained on the subject of religion
and dogmatic and sectarian Christianity. His attitude towards the Roman
Catholic Church becomes an almost necessary subject of contemplation in
a study of the Solemn Mass in D; but it is one into which the personal
equation of the student must perforce largely enter. The obedient
churchman of a Roman Catholic country will attach both less and more
importance, than one brought up in a Protestant land, to the fact that
he admonished his nephew when a lad to say his prayers and said them
with him (as the boy testified in the guardianship proceedings), that
he himself at least once led him to the door of the confessional,[68]
that he consented to the summoning of a priest when _in extremis_
and that he seemed to derive comfort and edification from the sacred
function. It is not necessary, however, to go very deeply into a
critical study of the Mass in order to say that while the composition
shows respect for traditions in some portions and while it is possible
to become eloquent without going beyond the demonstration contained
in the music itself, in describing the overwhelming puissance of
his proclamation of the fatherhood of God and belief in Him as the
Creator of all things visible and invisible, the most obvious fact
which confronts the analytical student is that Beethoven approached
the missal text chiefly with the imagination and the emotions of an
artist, and that its poetical, not to say dramatic elements were those
which he was most eager to delineate.[69] One proof of this is found in
what may be called the technical history of the Mass, and is therefore
pertinent here. It was scarcely necessary for Beethoven to do so, but
he has nevertheless given us an explanation of his singular treatment
of the prayer for peace. Among the sketches for the movement is found
the remark: “_dona nobis pacem_ darstellend den _innern_ und äussern
Frieden” (“delineating internal and external peace”), and in agreement
with this he superscribes the first _Allegro vivace_ in the autograph
with the same words. In the later copy this phrase is changed to
“Prayer for internal and external peace,” thus showing an appreciation
of the fact that the words alone contain the allusion to peace which in
its external aspect is disturbed by the sounds of war suggested by the
instruments. The petition for peace is emphasized by the threatening
tones of military instruments accompanying the agonizing appeal for
mercy sent up by the voices. The device is purely dramatic and it was
not an entirely novel conceit of Beethoven’s. When the French invaded
Styria in 1796, Haydn wrote a mass “In tempore belli” in which a soft
drum-roll entered immediately after the words “Agnus Dei” and was
gradually reinforced by trumpets and other wind-instruments “as if the
enemy were heard approaching in the distance.”

Whence came the plan of postponing the publication of the mass for
a period in order to sell manuscript copies of it by subscription
to the sovereigns of Europe does not appear. Beethoven had it under
consideration at the beginning of 1823, for the year was only a week
old when he sent his brother Johann with a letter to Griesinger of the
Saxon Legation asking him to give advice on the subject to the bearer
of the letter, apologizing for not coming in person on the ground
of indisposition. Whether or not Griesinger came to his assistance
we do not know, but within a fortnight work on the project had been
energetically begun. Schindler was now called upon to write, fetch
and carry as steadily and industriously as if he were, in fact, what
he described himself to be--a private secretary. Among his papers in
Berlin are found many billets and loose memoranda bearing on the
subject, without date, but grouped as to periods by Schindler himself
and provided with occasional glosses touching their contents. Beethoven
took so much of his time in requisition, indeed, that he offered to
pay him 50 florins after the collection of one of the subscription
fees, but Schindler records that he never received them nor would he
have accepted them. He was, as he informed the world for many years
afterward on his visiting card, “L’Ami de Beethoven,” and his very
considerable and entirely unselfish labors were “works of friendship”
for which he wanted no remuneration; but he was very naturally rejoiced
when Beethoven presented him with several autograph scores, and we
have seen how, after the death of Beethoven, Breuning gave him many
papers which seemed valueless then but are looked upon as invaluable
now. Moreover, he disposed of his Beethoven _memorabilia_ to the
Royal Library of Berlin for an annuity of 400 thalers--all of which,
however, does not detract from the disinterestedness of his labors for
Beethoven, alive, suffering and so frequently helpless.

[Sidenote: ROYAL SUBSCRIPTIONS INVITED]

The invitations to the courts were issued in part before the end of
January. A letter to Schindler, evidently written in that month, asks
him to draw out a memorandum of courts from an almanac in which the
foreign embassies stationed at Vienna were listed. The invitations were
posted on the following dates: to the courts at Baden, Wurtemburg,
Bavaria and Saxony on January 23; “to the other ambassadors” (as
Beethoven notes) on January 26; to Weimar on February 4; to Mecklenburg
and Hesse-Darmstadt on February 5; to Berlin, Copenhagen, Hesse-Cassel
and Nassau on February 6; to Tuscany on February 17, and to Paris on
March 1. The invitation to the court at Hesse-Cassel had been written
on January 23, but it was not sent because, as Schindler says, “it had
been found that nothing was to be got from the little courts.” The
letter came back to Beethoven and its preservation puts in our hands
the formula which, no doubt was followed in all the formal addresses.
We therefore give it here:

The undersigned cherishes the wish to send his latest work, which
he regards as the most successful of his intellectual products, to
the Most Exalted Court of Cassel.

It is a grand solemn mass for 4 solo voices with choruses and
complete grand orchestra in score, which can also be used as a
grand oratorio.

He therefore begs the High Embassy of His Royal Highness, the
Elector of Hesse-Cassel, to be pleased to procure for him the
necessary permission of your Exalted Court.

Inasmuch, however, as the copying of the score will entail a
considerable expense the author does not think it excessive if he
fixes an honorarium at 50 ducats in gold. The work in question,
moreover, will not be published for the present.

Vienna, 23 January, 1823.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

Only the signature was in Beethoven’s handwriting. It is not known
how many of these invitations were issued; Schindler’s account goes
only to the subscriptions received and even here it is not entirely
accurate. There were ten acceptances. The first came from the King of
Prussia. Prince Hatzfeld acted in the matter for Berlin and Beethoven
also invoked the aid of Zelter. Court Councillor Wernhard, Director
of the Chancellary of the Embassy at Vienna, brought the report to
Beethoven and asked him if he would not prefer a royal order to the 50
ducats. Without hesitation, Beethoven replied “50 ducats,” and after
Wernhard had gone he indulged in sarcastic comments on the pursuit
of decorations by various contemporaries--“which in his opinion were
gained at the cost of the sanctity of art.” Beethoven received the
money, but the score was not delivered, owing, no doubt, to delay in
the copying, and in July Prince Hatzfeld feels compelled to remind the
composer of his remissness. Prince Radziwill in Berlin also subscribed,
but he did not receive his copy till more than a year later. On June
28, 1824, a representative of the Prince politely informed Beethoven
that he had sent a cheque for 50 ducats to him with a request for a
receipt and a copy of the score, but had received neither. On July
3, Schindler informed Beethoven that Hatzfeld had earnestly inquired
whether he was now going to receive the Mass. He was being so pestered
about the matter from Berlin that it was becoming burdensome. He
asked that Beethoven write to the Prince without delay, telling him
when he should receive the Mass, so that he might show it in his
own justification in Berlin. Schindler says the fault lay with the
copyists; in every copy many pages had to be rewritten.

Much to Beethoven’s vexation and impatience the Saxon court was
very tardy in its reply, or rather in subscribing, for at first the
invitation was declined; but Beethoven was not thus to be put off by a
court with which his imperial pupil was closely connected. He called
in the help of Archduke Rudolph, to whom on July 1, 1823, he wrote a
letter. He complains in this letter of pain in the eyes from which he
has been suffering for a week. He was forced to make sparing use of
them and therefore had not been able to look through some variations
composed by the Archduke, but had been obliged to leave the task to
another. He continues:

[Sidenote: AN ARCHDUKE ASKED TO BE SOLICITOR]

In regard to the Mass which Y. I. H. wished to see made more
generally useful: the continuously poor state of my health for
several years, more especially the heavy debts which I have
incurred and the fact that I had to forgo the visit to England
which I was invited to make, compelled me to think of means for
bettering my condition. For this the Mass seemed suitable. I was
advised to offer it to several courts. Hard as it was for me to
do this I nevertheless did not think that I ought to subject
myself to reproach by not doing it. I therefore invited several
courts to subscribe for the Mass, fixed the fee at 50 ducats, as
it was thought that would not be too much and, if a number of
subscribers were found, also not unprofitable. Thus far, indeed,
the subscription does me honor, their Royal Majesties of France and
Prussia having accepted. I also a few days ago received a letter
from my friend Prince Gallitzin [_sic_] in St. Petersburg, in which
this truly amiable prince informs me that His Imperial Majesty
of Russia had accepted and I should soon hear the details from
the Imperial Russian embassy here. In spite of all this, however,
though others have also become subscribers I do not get as much as
I would as fee from a publisher, only I have the advantage that
the work remains _mine_. The costs of copying are large and will
be increased by the new pieces[70] which are to be added, which I
shall send to Y. I. H. as soon as I have finished them. Perhaps Y.
I. H. will not find it burdensome graciously to ask H. R. H. the
Grand Duke of Tuscany to take a copy of the Mass. The invitation
was sent some time ago to the Grand Duke of Tuscany through the
agent v. Odelgha, and O. solemnly assures me that the invitation
will surely be accepted, but I am not entirely confident, since
it was several months ago and no answer has been received. The
matter having been undertaken, it is only natural that as much as
possible should have been done to attain the desired result. It
was hard for me to understand this, still harder for me to tell Y.
I. H. of it or permit you to notice it, but “_Necessity knows no
law_.” But I thank Him above the stars[71] that I am beginning to
use my eyes again. I am now writing a new symphony for England,
for the Philharmonic Society, and hope to have it completely done
in a fortnight. I can not yet strain my eyes for a long period,
wherefore I beg Y. I. H. graciously to be patient in regard to Y.
I. H.’s variations which seem to me charming but need carefully to
be looked through by me. Continue Y. I. H. to practice the custom
of briefly jotting down your ideas at the pianoforte; for this a
little table alongside the pianoforte will be necessary. By this
means the fancy will not only be strengthened but one learns to
fix at once the most remote ideas. It is also necessary to write
without the pianoforte, and sometimes to develop a simple chorale
melody now with simple, and anon with varied figurations in
counterpoint and this will cause no headache to Y. I. H. but rather
a great pleasure at finding yourself absorbed in the art. Gradually
there comes the capacity to represent just that only which we wish
to feel, an essential need in the case of men of noble mould. My
eyes command me to stop, etc.

This letter was written in Vienna, but from Hetzendorf he sent a
postscript in which he said:

If convenient, will Y. I. H. graciously recommend the Mass to
Prince Anton in Dresden, so that His Royal Majesty of Saxony may
be induced to subscribe to the Mass, which will surely happen if
Y. I. H. shows the slightest interest in the matter. As soon as
I have been informed that you have shown me this favor, I shall
at once address myself to the Director General of the Theatre and
Music there, who is in charge of such matters, and send him the
invitation to subscribe for the King of Saxony which, however, I
do not wish to do. My opera “Fidelio” was performed with great
success in Dresden at the festivities in honor of the visit of the
King of Bavaria, all their Majesties being present. I heard of
this from the above-mentioned Director General, who asked me for
the score through Weber and afterwards made me a handsome present
in return. Y. I. H. will pardon me for inconveniencing you by such
requests but Y. I. H. knows how little importunate I am as a rule;
but if there should be the least thing unpleasant to you in the
affair you will understand as a matter of course that I am none
the less convinced of your magnanimity and graciousness. It is not
greed, not the desire for speculation, which I have always avoided,
but need which compels me to do everything possible to extricate
myself from this position. In order not to be too harshly judged,
it is perhaps best to be frank. Because of my continual illness,
which prevented me from writing as much as usual, I am burdened
with a debt of 2300 florins C. M. which can be liquidated only by
extraordinary exertions. If these subscriptions help matters, for
which there are the best of hopes, I shall be able to get a firm
foothold again through my compositions. Meanwhile, may Y. I. H. be
pleased to receive my frankness not ungraciously. If ever I should
be charged with not being as active as formerly, I should keep
silent as I always have done. As regards the recommendations I am
nevertheless convinced that Y. I. H. will always be glad to do good
_whenever possible_ and will make no exception in my case.

Beethoven’s impatience with the Saxon Court was so great that some
time before his hopes had been reanimated, probably by the application
for his opera, he had said in a note to Schindler: “Nothing from
Dresden. Wait till the end of the month then an advocate in Dresden.”
These words led Schindler to the singular conclusion that Beethoven
had thoughts of compelling the King of Saxony to reach a decision by
judicial means. Obviously, all that Beethoven meant by “advocate” was a
pleader, an intercessor. He could have contemplated legal measures only
if he had sent a copy of the Mass to the King with the invitation, and
this we know he did not do from a letter written by Archduke Rudolph,
which says, that the King of Saxony had not received a score by July
31. Archduke Rudolph became the advocate through his brother-in-law
Prince Anton, brother to the King, and so did the Director General v.
Könneritz, to whom Beethoven wrote on July 17 and again on July 25. In
the first letter he promises to send the invitation to the King and
in the next he does so. This must have been a second invitation, for
Beethoven tells v. Könneritz that the original one had been declined. A
paragraph from each letter deserves reproduction.

I know that you will scarcely think of me as among those who
write simply for vulgar gain, but when do not circumstances
sometimes compel a man to act contrary to his habits of thought and
principles!! My Cardinal is a good-hearted prince, but he lacks
means.

Up to now, in spite of all external glory, I have scarcely received
for the work what I would have been paid by a publisher, the costs
of copying having been so great. My friends conceived the idea of
thus circulating the Mass, for I, thank God, am a _layman_ in all
speculations. Besides, there is no citizen of our country who has
not suffered loss, and so have I. Were it not for my sickness of
years’ standing, I should have received enough from foreign lands
to live a care-free life, caring only for art. Judge me kindly and
not unfavorably, I live for my art alone and to fulfil my duties as
a man, but alas! that this can not always be done without the help
of the _subterrestrial powers_.

[Sidenote: SUBSCRIPTIONS BY REGAL COURTS]

These last efforts were successful; King Friedrich August subscribed
for the Mass, and on July 31 Archduke Rudolph wrote to his
music-master: “My brother-in-law Prince Anton has already written to me
that the King of Saxony is expecting your beautiful Mass.” On September
12, Prince Anton wrote to Beethoven that he had no doubt his royal
brother would grant his wish, especially as he had spoken to him on the
subject in the name of his brother-in-law, the Cardinal. The money must
have arrived soon afterward and Beethoven set Schindler’s mind at ease
by writing to him:

In order that evil report may not longer injure the poor Dresdeners
too much, I inform you that the money reached me to-day, with all
marks of respect.

According to Fürstenau the manuscript copy of the Mass is still in the
private music collection of the King of Saxony in Dresden.

The Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt was appealed to directly under date
of February 5, the letter, probably following the formula and signed
by Beethoven, being forwarded through the Hessian ambassador, Baron
von Türckheim, a cultured art connoisseur and subsequently Intendant
of the Grand Ducal Theatre in Darmstadt. Louis Schlösser was in Vienna
at the time, and Baron von Türckheim, knowing that he wanted to make
Beethoven’s acquaintance, gave him the opportunity by asking him
to carry the information that the invitation had been accepted, to
Beethoven, handing him the dispatch with the Grand Ducal seal affixed
for that purpose. Schlösser went to Beethoven, “No. 60 Kothgasse, first
storey, door to the left,” and has left us a description of the visit,
which must have been made in April or early in May, 1823. Beethoven
read the document with great joy and said to Schlösser:

Such words as I have read do good. Your Grand Duke speaks not only
like a princely Mæcenas but like a thorough musical connoisseur of
comprehensive knowledge. It is not alone the acceptance of my work
which rejoices me but the estimation which in general he places
upon my works.

[Sidenote: A VAIN APPEAL TO GOETHE]

No success was met with at the cultivated Court of Weimar, though here
Beethoven invoked the assistance of no less a dignitary than Goethe.
His letter to the poet is still preserved in the Grand Ducal archives
and is worthy of being given in full:

Vienna, February 8th, 1823.

Your Excellency!

Still living as I have lived from my youthful years in your
immortal, never-aging works, and never forgetting the happy
hours spent in your company, it nevertheless happens that I must
recall myself to your recollection--I hope that you received the
dedication to Your Excellency of “Meeresstille und glückliche
Fahrt” composed by me. Because of their contrast they seemed to me
adapted for music in which the same quality appears; how gladly
would I know whether I have fittingly united my harmonies with
yours; advice too, which would be accepted as very truth, would be
extremely welcome to me, for I love the latter above all things
and it shall never be said of me _veritas odium parit_. It is very
possible that a number of your poems which must ever remain unique,
set to music by me, will soon be published, among them “Rastlose
Liebe.” How highly would I value some general observations from
you on the composition or setting to music of your poems! Now a
request to Y. E. I have composed a Grand Mass which, however, I
do not want to publish at present, but which is to be sent to the
principal courts. The honorarium for the same is 50 ducats only. I
have addressed myself in the matter to the Grand Ducal Weimarian
Embassy, which has accepted the appeal to His Serene Highness and
promised to deliver it. The Mass can also be used as an oratorio
and who does not know that the benevolent societies are suffering
from the lack of such things. My request consists in this, that
Y. E. call the attention of His Serene Highness, the Grand Duke,
to this matter so that His Highness may subscribe for the Mass.
The Grand Ducal Weimarian Embassy gave me to understand that it
would be very beneficial if the Grand Duke could be induced to
regard the matter favorably in advance. I have written much but
accumulated scarcely anything, and now I am no longer alone but
have for more than six years been father to a son of my deceased
brother, a promising youth in his sixteenth year, wholly devoted to
science and already at home in the rich shafts of Hellenism; but in
these countries such things cost a great deal and, in the case of
young students, not only the present but also the future must be
borne in mind, and as much as I formerly kept my thoughts directed
aloft I must now extend my glances _downwards_. My income is all
outgo--the condition of my health for years has not permitted
that I make artistic journeys nor seize upon the many things which
yield money!?--If my health should be completely restored I might
expect other and better things. Y. E. must not think that it is
because I am asking a favor that I have dedicated the “Meeresstille
und glückliche Fahrt” to you--this was already done in May, 1822,
and this method of making the Mass known was not thought of till a
few weeks ago. The respect, love and esteem which I have cherished
for the only and immortal Goethe since the days of my youth have
remained with me. Things like this are not easily put into words,
especially by a bungler like myself, who has always been bent only
on making tones his own, but a singular feeling impels me always to
tell you this, inasmuch as I live in your works. I know that you
will not refuse to help an artist who feels only too keenly how far
mere _monetary reward_ is from _her_ (art) now that he is compelled
by _need_ and constrained to work and labor _because of others for
others_. The good is always plain to us and therefore I know that
Y. E. will not deny my request.

A few words from you would fill me with happiness.

I remain, Your Excellency, with the sincerest and most unbounded
respect,

Beethoven.

According to Schindler, who surely was in a position to know, no answer
to this letter was ever received; nor did the Grand Duke subscribe.
That the invitation reached its destination may safely be assumed from
Beethoven’s remark about the interest displayed in the plan at the
embassy; but the document is not to be found in the archives. Goethe’s
indifference, if he was indifferent in the premises, may be explained
on a number of grounds. If he ever was thoroughly appreciative of
Beethoven’s music, it was only later in life. He was in the prime
of life with fixed tastes in music as well as the other arts before
Beethoven came with his new evangel. Reichardt, Zelter and men of their
stamp produced the music which was most to his liking. It is true that
in July, 1812, he wrote a letter in which he said that he had never
seen a more self-contained, energetic and sincere artist than Beethoven
and that he could well understand why he appeared singular in the eyes
of the world; but it is doubtful if he ever felt any real attachment
to the man, and not altogether impossible, if the Teplitz stories are
true, that he resented the bad manners of which Beethoven is said to
have been guilty. But a long time had elapsed since the two great men
came together in 1812.

Bavaria’s story is a short one. In a Conversation Book towards the
close of May, Schindler writes: “A negative answer has come from
Bavaria.” To the King of Naples, Beethoven sent a French copy of the
letter of invitation practically identical with the formula, and also
to the King of France.[72] In the latter case Cherubini was asked to be
the advocate. The draft of Beethoven’s letter to him is still preserved
among the Schindler papers in Berlin:

Highly respected Sir!

It is with great pleasure that I embrace the opportunity to
approach you in writing; in spirit I am with you often enough,
inasmuch as I value your works more than all others written for
the stage, though the beautiful world of art must deplore the fact
that for a considerable period no new theatrical work of yours
of large dimensions has appeared, at least not in our Germany;
high as your other works are esteemed by true connoisseurs, it is
yet a veritable loss to art not to possess a new product of your
great mind. True art remains imperishable and the genuine artist
feels sincere pleasure in real and great products of genius, and
so I, too, am enraptured whenever I hear a new work of yours and
feel as great an interest in it as in my own works.--In brief, I
honor and love you--If it were not for my continual ill health and
I could see you in Paris, with what extraordinary delight would
I discuss art matters with you?! I must add that to every artist
and art-lover I always speak of you with _Enthusiasm_, otherwise
you might (_illegible word_) believe, since I am about to ask a
favor of you, that this was merely an introduction to the subject.
I hope, however, that you will not attribute such lowmindedness,
so contemptible an action, to me. My request consists in this,
etc.[73] That in this, etc. I know that if you will advise His
Majesty to take the Mass, he will surely do so. My situation _ma
critique demande que je ne fixe seulement come ordinaire mes
pensées aux ciel aux contraire, il faut les fixer en bas pour les
necessites de la vie_. Whatever may be the fate of my request to
you, I shall always love and honor you _et vous resteres toujours
celui de mes contemporains, que je l’estime le plus si vous me
voulez faire une_ [sic] _estréme plaisir, c’etoit si m’ecrireess
quelque lignes, ce que me soulagera bien--l’art unie touta_ [sic]
_le monde_ and how much more true artists, _et peut etres vous me
dignes aussi, de me mettre_ also to be counted amongst this number,

_avec la plus haute
estime
votre ami
e serviteur
Beeth._

[Sidenote: A MEDAL FROM THE KING OF FRANCE]

The letter was despatched on March 15. Cherubini did not receive it,
and as late as 1841 expressed his great regret at the miscarriage
which, however, worked no harm to the enterprise. King Louis XVIII
not only subscribed for the Mass but within less than a year sent
Beethoven a gold medal weighing twenty-one Louis d’ors, showing on
the obverse side the bust of the King and on the reverse, within a
wreath, the inscription: _Donnée par le Roi à Monsieur Beethoven_. Duke
d’Achâts, First Chamberlain of the King, accompanied the gift with the
following letter:

_Je m’empresse de vous prévenir, Monsieur, que le Roi a accueillé
avec bonté l’hommage de la Partition de Votre Messe en Musique et
m’a chargé de vous faire parvenir une medaille d’or à son effigie.
Je me félicite d’avoir à vous transmettre le témoinage de la
satisfaction de Sa Majesté et je saisis cette occasion de vous
offrir l’assurance de ma considération distinguée._

_Le Premier Gentilhomme
de la Chambre du Roi_

Aux Tuileries ce 20 Février 1824. Le duc d’Achâts.

“This was a distinction,” says Schindler, “than which one more
significant never fell to the lot of the artist during his life”; but
the biographer certainly is in error when he intimates that the medal
was given in payment of the subscription price. Beethoven informed
Archduke Rudolph that the King had accepted the invitation in his
letter of June 1, 1823; the medal was received early in 1824, over
eight months later. Beethoven’s needs and the reply which he gave the
messenger from Prussia when he offered a decoration instead of the 50
ducats, indicate plainly enough how he felt as to the remuneration.
Moreover, in a billet which he sent to Schindler instructing him
to call upon von Obreskow of the Russian Embassy to tell him how
to pay the subscription of the Czar, Beethoven says: “let him know
incidentally, when opportunity offers, that France simply sent the
money to you.” Evidently King Louis XVIII paid the money in the regular
way and sent the medal as a special mark of distinction.

No subscription was received from the King of Naples. The negotiations
with the Grand Duke of Tuscany were more successful, though they
dragged on into the next year. They were a subject of discussion
in the Conversation Book in which Count Lichnowsky, Brother Johann
and Nephew Karl took part. From remarks there recorded it appears
that an appeal was also made to Ex-Empress Maria Louisa, Duchess of
Parma. Here the agent was Odelga and there was a plan to interest
Countess Neuberg. Count Lichnowsky seems to have suggested the name
of Maria Louisa and offered to write to Count Neuberg, whom he knew,
on the subject. It looks also as if the case of the Grand Duke of
Tuscany had been exceptional, in that the Mass had been forwarded
before the subscription had been received; this at least might be
the interpretation of a remark noted by Karl: “I shall go to Odelga
on Sunday. We must get to work, or they will keep the Mass and send
nothing.”

Schindler says that Beethoven sent a carefully written letter to the
King of Sweden to accompany the invitation; but nothing came of it. The
King of Denmark subscribed, but as we hear nothing of the particulars,
it is most likely that everything went smoothly in his case.

Prince Galitzin was asked to make a plea to the Russian Court and
reported in a letter to Beethoven, dated June 2, that the invitation
had been accepted and the official notification would follow in due
course through the Russian Embassy. The money came soon afterwards. On
July 9, Schindler writes in a jocular vein, using a metaphor which had
already done service in Beethoven’s correspondence:

I take pleasure in reporting to you herewith, that by command of
the Emperor of all the Russias, 50 horsemen in armor are arrived
here as a Russian contingent to do battle under you for the
Fatherland. The leader of these choice troops is a Russian Court
Councillor. Herr Stein, pianoforte maker, has been commissioned
by him to quarter them on you. _Rien de nouveau chez nos voisins
jusqu’ici._

_Fidelissimus Papageno._[74]

The director of the business affairs of the Russian Embassy, von
Obreskow, had made inquiry as to how the fee was to be paid. Beethoven
wrote to Schindler to tell Obreskow to pay the bearer on delivery of a
receipt; to say (if it became opportune) that the King of France had
done so; and admonished him always to remember that such personages
represented “Majesty itself”; also to “say nothing about the Mass
not being finished, which is not true, for the new pieces are only
additions.” Impatience at the non-delivery of the Mass at the expected
time must have been expressed by the Russian Embassy, for in a note
which Schindler dates “in the winter of 1824,” Beethoven says:

Mr. v. Schindler:

Here the _Paquett_ for the Russian Embassy, please look after it at
once, moreover say that I shall soon visit him in person, inasmuch
as it hurts me that lack of confidence has been felt in me and I
thank God I am in a position to prove that I do not deserve it in
any way nor will my honor permit it.[75]

[Sidenote: PRINCE GALITZIN’S SUBSCRIPTION]

Prince Galitzin, who had already expressed his delight in the new work
and who had also been invited to subscribe, suggested that the Mass
be published by popular subscription at four or five ducats, as there
were not many amateurs who could afford to pay 50 ducats for a written
copy. “All that I can do,” the Prince writes in conclusion, “is to beg
you to put me down among your subscribers and to send me a copy as soon
as possible so that I may produce it at a concert for the benefit of
the widows of musicians which takes place annually near Christmas.”
Plainly, this was a subscription in the existing category; there was no
other, and Beethoven, in view of the invitation to the courts, could
not at once entertain the subject of a popular subscription for a
printed edition. Galitzin also accedes to a request which had obviously
been made to him when the invitation was extended, that the 50 ducats
already deposited in Vienna by him for a quartet be applied to the
account of the Mass. He writes on September 23 (October 3): “I have
just received your letter of the 17th and hasten to answer that I have
instructed the house of Henikstein to pay you immediately the 50 ducats
which I fancied had long ago been placed at your disposal.” The bankers
Henikstein sent the Prince Beethoven’s receipt for the 50 ducats “which
we paid to him on the order and account of Your Highness as fee for
the Mass which we have forwarded through the High State Chancellary.”
The score was in the hands of Prince Galitzin on November 29, but the
performance which he had projected did not take place until April 6,
1824. It was the first performance of the Mass anywhere, and Galitzin
wrote an enthusiastic account of it to Beethoven under date of April
8.[76]

A special invitation to subscribe to the Mass was not extended to the
Austrian court for reasons which, no doubt, were understood between
Beethoven and Archduke Rudolph and which may have been connected with
efforts which were making at the time to secure a court appointment
for the composer. At the request of Artaria, however, an invitation
was sent to Prince Paul Esterhazy. Beethoven had little confidence in
the successful outcome of the appeal, probably with a recollection in
his mind of the Prince’s attitude toward him on the occasion of the
production of the Mass in C in 1807, to which he seems to refer in a
letter to Schindler dated June 1:[77]

/# You will kindly again make inquiry of (_illegible_) for a
report. I doubt if it will be favorable for I do not expect a good
opinion from him, at least not to judge by earlier times! I think
that such matters can only be successfully presented to him by
women.

Beethoven’s suspicious nature had other food. On the outside of this
letter he wrote:

N. B. So far as I can remember there was nothing said in the
invitation to Prince Esterhazy about the Mass being distributed
only in manuscript. What mischief may not result from this. I
suspect that the purpose of Herr Artaria in suggesting that the
Mass be offered to the Prince gratis was to enable him to steal a
work of mine for the third time.

Beethoven’s lack of faith in the enterprise was justified; Esterhazy
did not subscribe.

No invitation was sent to the English court, probably because Beethoven
cherished a grudge in that quarter; but subscriptions were asked
of two large singing societies--the Singakademie of Berlin and the
Cäcilien-Verein of Frankfort. Zelter was director of the Singakademie,
and to him Beethoven wrote on February 8 as follows, after the
introductory compliments and reflections:

I wrote a Grand Mass, which might also be performed as an oratorio
(for the benefit of the poor, as is the good custom that has been
introduced) but did not want to publish it in print in the ordinary
way, but to give it to the principal courts only. The fee amounts
to 50 ducats. Except the copies subscribed for, none will be
issued, so that the Mass is practically only a manuscript.

He informs Zelter that an appeal has been sent to the King of Prussia
and that he has asked the intercession in its behalf of Prince
Radziwill. He then continues:

I ask of you that you do what you can in the matter. A work of
this kind might also be of service to the Singakademie, for there
is little wanting to make it practicable for voices alone; but the
more doubled and multiplied the latter in combination with the
instruments, the more effective it would be. It might also be in
place as an oratorio, such as is in demand for the Societies for
Poverty. More or less ill for several years and therefore not in
the most brilliant situation, I had recourse to this means. I have
written much but accumulated almost 0. Disposed to send my glances
aloft--but man is compelled for his own and for others’ sake to
direct them downwards; but this too is a part of man’s destiny.

[Sidenote: ZELTER AND THE SOLEMN MASS]

The letter will be seen, on comparison with that written on the same
day to Goethe, to be either a draft for the latter in part or an echo
of it. There is the same pun on “geschrieben” and “erschrieben,” the
same lament about having to keep his eyes on the ground while desirous
to keep them fixed on higher things, the same reference to the value
of the Mass for concert purposes in behalf of charity. As this last
point is one which would naturally occur to the writer in addressing a
musician and not at all naturally in an appeal to a poet, it is safe
to say that the Zelter letter was written first. It is an unpleasant
duty to call attention to a very significant difference between this
letter and the invitation issued to the courts as well as the letter
to Goethe. In the latter he distinctly says that the Mass will not be
published in the ordinary way “for the present,” thus reserving the
privilege of printing it at a future time. To Zelter, and presumably
to the Frankfort society, he plainly intimates that there is to be no
publication in the ordinary way at all. It is not a violent presumption
that Zelter may have observed this discrepancy, which was of vital
moment to his society, and that this may have caused the termination of
the negotiations, which began auspiciously enough in a letter written
by Zelter on February 22 in reply to Beethoven’s. In this letter he
said he was ready to purchase the Mass for the Singakademie at his own
risk, provided Beethoven would adapt it to the use of the society--that
is, arrange it for performance practically without instruments--a
proceeding, he explained, which would make it practicable for all
similar concert institutions. To this letter Beethoven replied on March
25:

I have carefully considered your suggestion for the Singakademie.
If it should ever appear in print I will send you a copy without
pay. It is true that it might almost be performed _a la capella_,
but to this end the whole would have to be arranged. Perhaps you
have the patience to do this. Besides, there is already a movement
in it which is entirely _a la capella_ and I am inclined to call
this style the only true church style. I thank you for your
readiness. From such an artist as you are, _with honor_, I would
never accept anything. I honor you and desire only an opportunity
to prove this to you in deed.

There the matter ended, so far as is known. The negotiations with
the Frankfort society were more successful. On May 19, 1823, J. N.
Schelble, director, wrote saying:

The hope of receiving a new composition from you, great master,
inspires all the members and reinvigorates their musical zeal. I
therefore request you as soon as it is convenient to you to forward
a copy of your Mass to me.

There were, therefore, as appears from this account and the list of
names sent in November, 1825, to the publishers of the Mass, ten
subscribers, namely: the Czar of Russia, the Kings of Prussia, Saxony,
France and Denmark, the Grand Dukes of Tuscany and Hesse-Darmstadt,
Princes Galitzin and Radziwill and the Cäcilia Society of Frankfort.
Beethoven’s receipts, 500 ducats (£250 or about $1200), were very
materially reduced, how much we can not say, by the costs of copying.
In this work his principal helper was a professional copyist named
Schlemmer, who could best decipher his manuscript. But Schlemmer
was sickly and died before the year was over; his successor was
named Rampel, and seems to have caused Beethoven a great deal of
annoyance; he probably was made to bear a great deal of the blame for
the tardiness of the work, for which, also, the composer’s frequent
alterations were in part responsible. One of the numerous letters to
Schindler from this period throws a little light on this subject:

Samothracian L----l.[78]

How about the trombone part. It is certain that the youngster still
has it, as he did not return it when he brought back the _Gloria_.
There was so much to do in looking over the wretched scribbling
that to carry back the trombone part was forgotten. If necessary,
I shall come to Vienna about the police matter. Here, for Rampel,
is first the theme of the _Var._ which is to be copied for me on
a separate sheet--then he is to copy the rest to _Var._ 13 or to
the end of _Var._ 12, and so an end of this. Get from Schlemmer
what remains of the _Kyrie_:--show him the postscript and herewith
_satis_.--for such _Hauptl----ls_ there is nothing more to be done.
Farewell--attend to everything--I am obliged to bind up my eyes
at night and must be very sparing in my use of them. Otherwise,
Smettana writes, I shall write but few more notes. To Wocher,
whom I shall visit myself as soon as I come to town, my prettiest
compliments and has he yet sent away the _Var._?

[Sidenote: NEGOTIATIONS WITH DIABELLI]

Beethoven’s thoughts in connection with the Mass were not all engrossed
during 1823 with the finishing touches on the composition and the
subscription; he was still thinking of the publication of the work.
His thoughts went to London, as a letter to Ries shows. The Mass
also came up in his dealings with Diabelli in Vienna. There were,
probably, other negotiations, of which we are not advised. An agreement
had been reached with Diabelli concerning the Variations, Op. 120
(on the Diabelli waltz theme), and the Mass had also been mentioned.
Whatever the nature of the negotiations may have been, Diabelli now
seems to have been insisting on conditions which Beethoven could not
accept without breach of contract with his subscribers or revoking the
subscriptions. In March Diabelli called Schindler into his shop and
had a talk with him which is detailed in a Conversation Book. It is
Schindler who is speaking:

Diabelli called me in to-day while I was passing and said to
me that he would take the Mass and publish it in two months by
subscription. He guarantees you the 1000 florins, as he says he has
already told you. You can have as many copies as you want--Diabelli
only asks of you that you let him know your decision within a
few days, then he will have work begun at once and promises that
everything shall be ready by the end of May. You, however, will not
have any further care in the matter. I think the proposition a very
good one, the more, because the work will be printed at once.

Beethoven appears to have doubts or scruples on the score of the
invitations sent to the sovereigns.

It will make no difference to the most exalted courts if printed
copies are put out. Do you want the 1000 florins in cash at once
or later?--he assures me that they will be guaranteed to you; the
business now is that you come to an understanding.

It appears, now, that Diabelli wants to publish the three supplementary
pieces also; but Beethoven still hesitates:

It would be best if you were to persuade Diabelli to print the
work at once, but wait a few months with the publication by
subscription. Then you will not be compromised in the matter, nor
he either.

Later (there has plainly been another consultation between Schindler
and Diabelli):

Diabelli agrees to wait until the tardy answers have been received
before opening the subscription. But he is not willing to wait a
whole year.

And in April:

Are you agreed? The only question is whether you give Diab. the
privilege of announcing the subscription a month before he pays. It
is his wish not to put the Mass in hand until he has paid. About
Diabelli then--do you want to leave the matter to me or consider
the publication by yourself? Diabelli wants the Mass by July 1 in
order to have it ready by the St. Michael Fair.

Later, August 1 and September 1 are mentioned. Beethoven was firm in
his determination to keep faith with his subscribers. He writes to
Schindler: “There are only two courses as regards the Mass, namely,
that the publisher delay the publication a year and a day; or, if
not, we can not accept a subscription.” Later he writes: “Nothing is
to be changed in the Diabelli contract except that _the time_ when he
is to receive the Mass from me be left undetermined.” The contract in
question which was thus to be amended concerned the Variations, but
presumably the Mass also. Beethoven writes:

From my little book I see that you have doubts in the matter of the
Mass and Diab., wherefore, I beg you to come soon, for in that case
we will not give him the Var. either, as my brother knows somebody
who wants to take them both. We are therefore in a position to talk
to him.

Either this disagreement or some other in a matter in which Schindler
acted as Beethoven’s agent brought out a letter from the latter to
the former in which he expresses a belief that the business, “so
disagreeable to you,” might be brought to a conclusion soon: “moreover
I was not, unfortunately, entirely wrong in not wholly trusting Diab.”
Schindler, in a gloss on this note, says that the disagreeable business
concerned the Mass. Diabelli had made plans which were not only
harmful to the work but humiliating as well to Beethoven. Schindler
pointed this out and Diabelli became violent and declared that since
the contract was as good as closed he would summon Schindler before a
court of law if it were not kept. “But,” says Schindler, “the threat
did no good; he had to take back the document.” The numerous notes to
Schindler about this period are undated and the times at which they
were written have been only approximately fixed by Schindler; there
is also some vagueness touching the time and order of the written
conversations, but the evidence thus far presented, together with a
significant remark in a billet to Schindler, to the effect that he
had thought of a project which would “act like a pistol-shot on this
fellow,” would seem to justify the assumption that Beethoven had
entered into the same kind of obligation with Diabelli as he had with
Simrock and Peters so far as the Mass was concerned, and that before
the execution of a formal contract, which seems to have been considered
necessary in this case, which was to include the Variations on the
Diabelli Waltz theme, Beethoven had embarked on his enterprise with
the sovereigns, which made the speedy publication of the Mass in the
ordinary way impossible with honor; further, that a threat to withhold
the Variations had been used to bring the irate publisher to terms. In
the April Conversation Book Schindler says: “Won’t Diabelli make wry
faces when your brother demands the document back almost as soon as he
has received it!”

[Sidenote: DUBIOUS ASPECT OF THE NEGOTIATIONS]

To the commercialized mind of to-day it is possible that the picture
which has just been presented here of a superlatively great artist
hawking his creations in the courts of Europe, appealing to his friends
and patrons among the great to act as his go-betweens, railing against
the tardy and permitting those who were prompt in payment to wait
unconscionable periods for their property, may seem to present as
little of the aspect of debasement of genius and its products as it
did at a time when great musicians were menials in the households of
the highborn, and thrift could only follow fawning. But Beethoven had
done much to exalt art and emancipate the artist, and what would have
caused little comment in the case of his predecessors amongst court
musicians was scarcely venial in him who preached a new ethic as well
as artistic evangel. And so, to minds untainted by trade and attuned
to a love of moral as well as æsthetic beauty, the spectacle which
Beethoven presents in 1823 must be quite as saddening as that disclosed
by his dealings with the publishers in the years immediately preceding.
A greater measure of commiseration goes out to him now, however,
because of the evidence that the new phase cost him greater qualms
of conscience and that the exigencies which impelled him were more
pressing. His physical ailments were increasing; his deafness had put a
stop to his appearances in public as an artist; his eyes were troubling
him; there was no lessening of his concern about his ward, but an
increase in the cost of his maintenance; his income was continually
dwindling because of his lessening productivity, notwithstanding that
the fees which he could command for new works (and even the remnants
of his youthful activity) had reached dimensions of which he had
never dreamed in the heyday of his powers; he felt the oppressive
burden of his debts more and more as his unreasoning love for his
foster-son prompted him to make provision against the future. The royal
subscription was, no doubt, a welcome scheme which, if not suggested by
his advisers, was certainly encouraged by them; but it must have cost
his proud soul no little humiliation to have his application rejected
after he had so deeply bent “the pregnant hinges of the knee.” The
publishers gave him less concern. They were his natural enemies and he
theirs--“hellhounds who licked and gnawed his brains,” as he expressed
it in a letter to Holz in 1825; yet he knew that he would need them,
and he knew also that as soon as he went to them, and the mass appeared
in print, the manuscript copies which he had sold would be all but
worthless. But this may have troubled him little, as he, in all
likelihood, shared Schindler’s conviction that there was no permanency
of interest in the work on the part of the crowned heads and that they
would not be troubled by the appearance of the work in print. Patronage
of art is part of the obligation which rests upon royalty, and it
would have been little less than a crime to withhold the Mass from
the public; but what of the exclusiveness of right which was implied,
if not expressed, in the letter to Zelter and presumably also in that
to the Cæcilia Society of Frankfort? He had informed the kings, who
might not even deign to glance at the Mass, that he had no “present”
intention to print the work, leaving them to gather that he would do so
later; but he plainly gives Zelter to understand that it is to remain
a manuscript. Here, too, the advice of his friends, who could see his
need but did not feel the moral responsibility which he may, or ought
to, have felt, must have been persuasive and also comforting.[79] The
world has too long enjoyed the great work to distress itself about the
circumstances of its creation and publication; but the historian and
moralist may yet as deeply deplore them as pity the conditions which
compelled the composer to yield to them.

[Sidenote: DEALINGS WITH THE LONDON PHILHARMONIC]

Preliminary to the narrative of the other varied incidents of the year
1823, let us set down a brief mention of the fact that on January 20
Beethoven wrote a little piece for voice and pianoforte in the album
of Countess Wimpfen, _née_ Eskeles, on the words of Goethe: “Der edle
Mensch sei hülfreich und gut,” [_sic_] which was published in facsimile
in the “Allgemeine Wiener Musikzeitung” on November 23, 1843. Having
traversed the year in our search for material relating to the Mass
in D, the next most significant subject is that which concerned the
Symphony in D minor, on which he worked industriously and which had
been the subject of correspondence between himself and Ries (in London)
for some time before the year opened. On April 6, 1822, Beethoven had
inquired of his old pupil: “What would the Philharmonic Society be
likely to offer me for a symphony?” Ries, evidently, laid the matter
before the directors of the society who, at a meeting on November 10,
“resolved to offer Beethoven fifty pounds for a MS. symphony.”[80] Ries
conveyed the information to Beethoven in a letter dated November 15
and in a reply dated December 20, Beethoven, although he protested that
the remuneration was not to be compared with what other nations might
give, accepted the offer, adding:

I would write _gratis_ for the first artists of Europe, if I were
not still poor Beethoven. If I were in London, what would I not
write for the Philharmonic Society! For Beethoven can write, God be
thanked, though he can do nothing else in this world. If God gives
me back my health, which has at least improved somewhat, I shall
yet be able to comply with all the requests which have come from
all parts of Europe, and even from North America, and I might yet
feather my nest.

A glimpse into the occupations, cares and perplexities which beset
Beethoven at this period is given by the first letter in the series
written in the new year--on February 5, which Ries, in his “Notizen,”
gives only in part:

I have no further news to give you about the _Sinfonie_ but
meanwhile you may confidently count on it. Since I have made the
acquaintance here of a very amiable and cultivated man, who holds
an appointment in our imperial embassy at London, he will undertake
later to forward the Symphony to you in London, so that _it will
soon be in London_. Were I not so poor that I am obliged to live by
my pen I would accept nothing at all from the Ph. Society; as it is
I must wait until the fee for the Sinfonie is deposited here. But
to give you an evidence of my affection for and confidence in the
society I have already delivered the new Overture referred to in my
last letter, to the gentleman of the Imperial society.[81] As he is
to start from here for London in a few days he will deliver it to
you in person in London. Goldschmidt will no doubt know where you
live; if not, please tell him, so that this accommodating gentleman
will not be obliged long to hunt you. I leave to the Society all
the arrangements about the Overture which, like the Symphony, it
can keep for 18 months. Not until after the lapse of that time
shall I publish it. And now another request: my brother here, who
keeps his carriage, wanted a lift from me and so, without asking
me, he offered the Overture in question to a publisher in London
named Bosey [Boosey]. Let him wait, and tell him that at present
it is impossible to say whether he can have the Overture or not;
I will write to him myself. It all depends on the Philharmonic
Society; say to him please that my brother made a mistake in the
matter of the Overture; as to the other works which he wrote about,
he may have them. My brother _bought them_ of me in order to
traffic with them, as I observe. _O frater!_ I beg of you to write
to me as soon as possible after you have received the Overture,
whether the Philharmonic Society will take it, for otherwise I
shall publish it soon.

I have heard nothing of your _Sinfonie_ dedicated to me. If I did
not look upon the _Dedicat_ as a sort of challenge for which I
might give you _Revanche_ I should long ago have dedicated some
work to you. As it is, I have always thought that I must first
see your work. How willingly would I show you my gratitude in
some manner. I am deeply your debtor for so many proofs of your
affection and for favors. If my health is improved by a bath-cure
which I am to take in the coming summer I will kiss your wife in
London in 1824.

What justification Beethoven had, or imagined he had, for imputing a
dishonorable act to his brother, cannot be said; it is noteworthy,
however, that he does not even mention him in a letter written twenty
days later which reiterates much that had already been set forth,
and offers to send the Symphony at once on receiving word from Ries
accompanied by a draft. He also intends to send six Bagatelles and
asks Ries to traffic, as best he can, with them and two sonatas. Had
he received a dedication from Ries, he says, he would at once have
inscribed the Overture to him. Not long afterward Beethoven wrote
again to Ries. The letter, which has been preserved only in part, is
printed with a few omissions and changes in the “Notizen” (p. 154).
Its significant remark about the new Symphony is that it is to bear a
dedication to Ries; its most valuable contribution, however, refers
to the Mass in D and the explanation which it offers of the fact that
Beethoven sent no invitation to the English court to subscribe for
that work. “In addition to these hardships,” Beethoven writes, “I have
many debts to pay, for which reason it would be agreeable to me if you
have disposed of the Mass to send me also the check for it, for by
that time the copy for London will have been made. There need be no
scruples because of the few _souverains_ who are to get copies of it.
If a local publisher made no objections, there ought to be still fewer
in London; moreover, I bind myself in writing that not a note of it
shall appear either in print or otherwise.” The poor Archduke-Cardinal
comes in for his customary drubbing, the special complaint now being
that Beethoven is obliged to draw his “wretched salary” with the aid of
a stamp. The letter was placed for delivery in the hands of the amiable
gentleman of the Austrian Embassy whose name we now learn to be Bauer
and who was also the bearer of an address to King George IV[82] which
Ries was to ask Bauer to read, after which the latter was to see to its
delivery into the royal hands and if possible get in return at least
a “butcher’s knife or a tortoise”; a printed copy of the “Battle of
Vittoria” was to accompany it. The character of the address to the king
can be guessed at from the following draft for an earlier letter which
was found amongst Schindler’s papers:

[Sidenote: AN APPEAL TO THE KING OF ENGLAND]

In thus presuming, herewith, to submit my most obedient prayer to
Your Majesty, I venture at the same time to supplement it with a
second.

Already in the year 1823, the undersigned took the liberty, at
the frequent requests of several Englishmen then living here, to
send his composition entitled “Wellington’s Battle and Victory at
Vittoria” which no one possessed at that time (to Your Majesty).
The then Imperial Russian Ambassador, Prince Rasoumowsky, undertook
to send the work to Your Majesty by a courier.

For many years the undersigned cherished the sweet wish that Your
Majesty would graciously make known the receipt of his work to him;
but he has not yet been able to boast of this happiness, and had
to content himself with a brief notice from Mr. Ries, his former
worthy pupil, who reported that Y. M. had been pleased graciously
to deliver the work to the then Musical Director, Mr. Salomon
and Mr. Smart for public performance in Drury Lane Theatre. This
appears also from the English journals, which added, as did Mr.
Ries, that the work had been received with extraordinary favor
not only in London but elsewhere. Inasmuch as it was extremely
humiliating to the undersigned to learn all this from indirect
sources, Y. M. will surely pardon his sensitiveness and graciously
permit him to observe that he spared neither time nor cost to lay
this work before your exalted person in the most proper manner in
order to provide a pleasure for Y. M.

From this the undersigned concludes, that it may have been
improperly submitted to Y. M. and inasmuch as the most obedient
petition which is now submitted, enables him again to approach Y.
M., he takes the privilege of handing to Y. M. accompanying printed
copy of the Battle of Vittoria in score, which has been set aside
for this purpose ever since 1815 and which has been retained so
long because of the uncertainty felt by the undersigned concerning
the matter.

Convinced of the lofty wisdom and graciousness which Y. M. has
hitherto shown toward art and artists to their appreciation and
good fortune, the undersigned flatters himself that Your Majesty
will graciously condescend to take all this in consideration and
grant his most humble petition.

[_Convaincu de la haute sagesse dont Votre Majesté a toujours su
apprecier l’art ainsi que de la haute faveur qu’elle accordé a
l’artiste le soussigné se flatte que Votre Majesté prendra l’un
et l’autre en consideration et vaudra en grace condescendre a sa
tres-humble demande._]

_a Vienne le 24 fevrier._

There are other letters to Ries which must be considered later. They
do not bear out Schindler’s contention that an estrangement had taken
place between former master and pupil, but were it not that Beethoven’s
utterances on that point were chronic when negotiating sales of his
works it might be said that they show that his burden of debt rested
with peculiar grievousness upon him at this time. That it did trouble
him more than ordinarily is otherwise evidenced. In April Schindler
writes: “Don’t think night and day about your debts. When you are
well again you’ll pay them without feeling it.” Steiner, who may have
thought that consideration was no longer incumbent on him, now that
Beethoven was offering his works to other publishers, pressed him
for the money which he had loaned him and threatened to sue him for
800 florins. Beethoven presented a counter-claim and demanded that
Steiner publish a number of compositions which he had purchased but had
not issued. The debt to Brentano also distressed him. He had as yet
received nothing from the royal subscribers to the _Missa Solemnis_. He
appealed to his brother Johann to go security for him, but he refused.
Then he consulted Dr. Bach, who advised him to dispose of one of the
seven shares of bank stock which he had purchased after his stroke of
fortune at the time of the Congress of Vienna. Schindler was called on
to act as fiscal agent in what must have seemed a complicated matter to
Beethoven, since at another time he had wanted to hypothecate a share
and, on getting it out of its hiding-place, learned that all he had to
do to get the money he needed was to cut off a coupon and collect it.
Now he writes to Schindler:

Do not forget the B. A. (bank share); it is highly necessary. I
should not like to be sued for nothing and less than nothing. The
conduct of my brother is worthy of him. The tailor is coming to-day
and I hope to turn him away without unpleasantness.

Another note to the same:

Try to find some philanthropist who will make me a loan on a bank
share, so that, first, I need not put too severe a strain on the
generosity of my only (the word is indistinct) friend v. B. and may
not myself get in need because of the withholding of this money due
to the beautiful arrangement made by my dear brother!

On a separate scrap of paper is written: “It must not appear that the
money is needed.” The date of this note is fixed by the circumstance
that it is the one in which Beethoven asks Schindler to draw up a list
of courts to which the invitations to subscribe to the Mass were to be
sent. In still another note he refers to bank shares which evidently
were to be hypothecated. It was while in this distressful state
concerning his debts that he took the first steps toward making his
nephew his legal heir. On March 6, 1823, he wrote to Bach:

Death might come unannounced and give no time to make a legal
will; therefore I hereby attest with my own hand that I declare my
nephew Karl van Beethoven to be my universal heir and that after
my death everything without exception _which can be called my
property shall belong to him_. I appoint you to be his curator, and
if there should be no testament after this you are also authorized
and requested to find a guardian for my beloved nephew--to the
exclusion of my brother Johann van Beethoven--and secure his
appointment according to law. I declare this writing to be valid
for all time as being my last will before my death. I embrace you
with all my heart.

The words excluding Johann from the guardianship were written on the
third page of the document and on the first there was this addition:
“NB. In the way of capital there are 7 shares of bank stock; whatever
else is found in cash is like the bank shares to be his.” Shortly
before his death he reiterated this bequest with modifications entailed
by changed conditions.

The origin of a canon which Beethoven improvised at the coffee-house
“Zur goldenen Birne” on February 20 to the words “Bester Herr Graf, Sie
sind ein Schaf” is said by Schindler to have been a discussion between
the composer and Count Lichnowsky concerning a contract with Steiner.
Obviously, Beethoven and his adviser had disagreed.

[Sidenote: SEEKS APPOINTMENT AS COURT COMPOSER]

In November 1822, Anton Tayber, Imperial Court Composer, died.
Beethoven applied for the appointment as his successor and Counts
Lichnowsky and Dietrichstein entered the lists for him. Beethoven made
a personal appeal to Dietrichstein, who was the “Court Music-Count”
who, on February 23, 1823, disclosed the plan which had been conceived
to promote Beethoven’s interests with the Emperor in a letter to
Lichnowsky:

It would have been my duty long ago to reply to good Beethoven,
since he came to me so trustfully. But after I had spoken with
you I decided to break silence only after I had received definite
information on the subject in question. I can now tell you
positively that the post held by the deceased Tayber--who was not
Chamber but Court Composer--is not to be filled again. I do not
want to write to Beethoven because I do not like to disappoint a
man whom I so sincerely respect, and therefore I beg of you when
occasion offers to let him know the fact and then to inform me when
and where I may meet him, as I have forgotten where he lives.

I am also sending you herewith the score of a mass by Reutter
which Beethoven wished to see. It is true that H. M. the Emperor
is fond of this style, but Beethoven, if he writes a mass, need
not adhere to it. Let him follow the bent of his great genius and
have a care only that the mass be not too long or too difficult
to perform;--that it be a _tutti_ mass and have only short
soprano and alto solos in the voices (for which I have two fine
singing-boys)--but no tenor, bass or organ solos. If he wishes he
may introduce a violin, oboe or clarinet solo.

His Majesty likes to have fugues well worked out but not too long;
the _Sanctus_ and _Osanna_ as short as possible, in order not to
delay the transubstantiation, and--if I may add something on my
own account--the _Dona nobis pacem_ connected with the _Agnus Dei_
without marked interruption, and soft. In two masses by Handel
(arranged from his anthems), two by Naumann and Abbé Stadler, this
makes a particularly beautiful effect. These in brief, as results
of my experience, are the things which are to be considered and
I should congratulate myself, the court and art if our great
Beethoven were soon to take the work in hand.

On March 10 Dietrichstein sent Beethoven three texts for graduals and
a like number for offertories from which to choose words to be used
in the mass to be composed for the emperor. On the count’s letter
Beethoven wrote the memorandum: “Treat the gradual as a symphony with
song--does it follow the _Gloria_?” Here we have some light on the
subject which came up for thought during the account of Beethoven’s
negotiations with publishers for the Mass in D. It would seem to
appear that Beethoven was much pleased with the interest manifested
in his application by Count Dietrichstein, and looked with auspicious
eye upon the latter’s plan to put him into the Emperor’s good books.
There can scarcely be a doubt but that he gave considerable thought
to the proposed mass even while still at work on the Mass in D. He
conceived the plan of accompanying the _Kyrie_ with wind-instruments
and organ only in a “new mass,” as he designates it, and sketches for
a _Dona nobis pacem_ which have been found “for the mass in C-sharp
minor” point to a treatment which may be said to be in harmony, so
far as can be seen, with Count Dietrichstein’s suggestions. On one
occasion he writes to Peters that he had not made up his mind which
mass he should have, and on another that he had three masses, two
other publishers having asked for such works. He tells Schindler that
reports that the Mass in D was not finished were to be denied because
they were not true, the unfinished numbers being additions. So also
he writes to the Archduke. These additions were to be a gradual, an
offertory, and a setting of the hymn _Tantum ergo sacramentum_, and it
is a fair presumption, since appropriate texts for the first two were
sent to Beethoven by Count Dietrichstein, that they were contemplated
in connection with the mass for the emperor and that possibly after
the abandonment of that project they were associated with the Mass in
D. Nothing is known of the music which Beethoven had in mind for these
additional numbers, but many sketches are lost and there is no knowing
how much music which was never written out Beethoven carried in his
head.[83]

Beethoven spoke of the “second” mass to others besides the publishers.
Nothing came of it, however. He decided to postpone work on the mass
for the Emperor, pleading the pressure of other obligations in the
letters of thanks which he sent to Counts Lichnowsky and Dietrichstein.
They and Archduke Rudolph were greatly disappointed and, if Schindler
is to be believed, the Archduke and Lichnowsky rebuked him.[84]

[Sidenote: CONSIDERATION OF OPERATIC SUBJECTS]

In this period, too, the alluring vision of a new opera presented
itself, haunted the minds of Beethoven and his friends for a space
and then disappeared in the limbo of unexecuted projects. “Fidelio”
had been revived on November 3, 1822, at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre.
Its success was so great that the management of the theatre offered
a commission to Beethoven for a new opera. Beethoven viewed the
proposition favorably and his friends hailed it with enthusiasm,
especially Count Moritz Lichnowsky. Beethoven’s love for classic
literature led him to express a desire for a libretto based on some
story of the antique world. He was told that such stories were all
worn threadbare. In the Conversation Books we see what suggestions
were offered by others: a text by Schlegel; Voltaire’s tragedies;
Schiller’s “Fiesco.” Local poets and would-be poets were willing to
throw themselves into the breach. Friedrich August Kanne, editor of
the musical journal published by Steiner and Co., wrote a libretto
which Beethoven sent to Schindler with a note saying that except for
the fact that the first act was rather lukewarm it was so admirably
written that it really did not require the collaboration of “one of the
first composers,” adding, “I do not want to say that it is just the
most suitable thing for me, but if I can rid myself of obligations to
which I am bound, who knows what might--or will--happen!” Lichnowsky
tells Beethoven in February that he is determined to see Grillparzer,
with whom he evidently wants to talk about an opera-book on “Macbeth”
or “Romeo and Juliet.” Brother Johann brings Beethoven a proposition
from Johann Sporchil, historian and publicist, and Sporchil, receiving
encouragement, submitted a work act by act to the composer, who wrote
comments on the manuscripts but never did more.[85] Lichnowsky hears
of an opera on “Alfred the Great,” said to be very beautiful and full
of spectacular pomp. He will bring it to the composer in a few days.
The Count has also written to Grillparzer, and Beethoven, recalling
that he is an old acquaintance, resolves to visit him. Lichnowsky’s
suggestion bore fruit of a kind. Grillparzer has left us an account
of his attempt to collaborate with Beethoven on an opera in his
“Erinnerungen an Beethoven.”[86] The request for a libretto, he says,
came to him through Count Dietrichstein and was somewhat embarrassing
to him because of his unfamiliarity with the lyric drama and his doubts
touching Beethoven’s ability, after his later works, to compose an
opera. Finally, however, he decided to make the attempt, and submitted
a subject to Beethoven’s friends and then to Beethoven himself. It
was a semi-diabolical story drawn from Bohemian legendary history,
entitled “Dragomira.” It met with Beethoven’s approval and he agreed to
write it, but afterward changed his mind and took up the fairy tale of
Melusina. Of the manner in which he treated this subject Grillparzer
says:

[Sidenote: GRILLPARZER AND HIS “MELUSINA”]

So far as possible I banished the reflective element and sought,
by giving prominence to the chorus, creating powerful finales and
adopting the melodramatic style for the third act, to adjust myself
to Beethoven’s last period. I avoided a preliminary conference with
the composer concerning the subject-matter, because I wanted to
preserve the independence of my views. Moreover, it was possible to
make alterations, and in the last instance it rested with him to
compose the book or not to compose it, as he listed. In order not
to coerce him in the least I sent him the book by the same channel
which had brought me the call. He was not to be influenced by
personal considerations or embarrassed in any manner whatsoever.

The book appealed to Beethoven, but several conferences between him
and the poet were necessary before it was brought into satisfactory
shape. Grillparzer had excluded much of the material in the old legend
which was unsuited to dramatic treatment, and strengthened the plot
with conceits of his own invention. As soon as he had sent the text he
went to Beethoven at Schindler’s request. At first blush Beethoven was
much pleased with the book, and he wrote Grillparzer a letter which
delighted the poet. Grillparzer describes the visit to Beethoven at his
lodgings in the Kothgasse which he made in company with Schindler:

I found him lying in soiled night wear on a disordered bed, a book
in his hand. At the head of the bed was a small door which, as I
observed later, opened into the dining-room and which Beethoven
seemed in a manner to be guarding, for when subsequently a maid
came through it with butter and eggs he could not restrain himself,
in the middle of an earnest conversation, from throwing a searching
glance at the quantity of the provisions served--which gave me a
painful picture of the disorder prevailing in his domestic economy.

As we entered Beethoven arose from the bed, gave me his hand,
poured out his feelings of good-will and respect and at once
broached the subject of the opera. “Your work lives here,” said
he, pointing to his heart; “I am going to the country in a few
days and shall at once begin to compose it. Only, I don’t know
what to do with the hunters’ chorus which forms the introduction.
Weber used four horns; you see, therefore, that I must have eight;
where will this lead to?” Although I was far from seeing the need
of such a conclusion I explained to him that without injury to the
rest of the book the hunters’ chorus could be omitted, with which
concession he seemed to be satisfied, and neither then nor later
did he offer any objection to the text or ask that a change be
made. He even insisted on closing a contract with me at once. The
profits of the opera should be divided evenly between us, etc. I
declared to him, and truthfully, that I had not thought of a fee
or anything of the kind while at work.... Least of all was it to
be the subject of conversation between us. He was to do with the
book what he pleased--I would never make a contract with him. After
a good deal of talk (or rather of writing, for he could no longer
hear speech) back and forth, I took my leave, promising to visit
him in Hetzendorf after he had settled himself there.

I had hoped that he had given up all thoughts of business in regard
to the matter; but a few days later my publisher, Wallishauser,
came to me and said that Beethoven insisted upon the execution of
a contract. If I could not make up my mind, Wallishauser suggested
that I assign the property-right in the book to him and he would
arrange with Beethoven, who was already advised of such a step.
I was glad to get rid of the business, let Wallishauser pay me a
moderate sum, and banished the matter from my thoughts. Whether or
not they made a contract I do not know.

Otto Jahn’s notes of a conversation with Grillparzer state that
Beethoven made a contract with Barbaja, who was the _de facto_ manager
of the Kärnthnerthor Theatre, for 6,000 florins, W. W. (2,500 C. M.).
Shortly afterward Barbaja abandoned the contract, saying to Beethoven
that he knew that though he was bound by it he could not use the opera.
Thereupon Beethoven tore up the document. On April 20, 1824, Duport
wrote to Beethoven that Barbaja had sent word from Naples that he would
like to have an opera by Beethoven and would give time and terms as
soon as he received assurance that his contract for the theatre would
be extended from December 1. The extension was not granted. Schindler
denied that a contract between manager and composer ever existed.

Grillparzer kept his promise to visit Beethoven at Hetzendorf, going
thither with Schindler. Part of his account may best be given in his
own words:

We took a promenade and entertained each other as well as was
possible half in conversation, half in writing, while walking.
I still remember with emotion that when we sat down to table
Beethoven went into an adjoining room and himself brought forth
five bottles. He set down one at Schindler’s plate, one at his own
and three in front of me, probably to make me understand in his
wild and simple way that I was master and should drink as much as I
liked. When I drove back to town without Schindler, who remained in
Hetzendorf, Beethoven insisted on accompanying me. He sat himself
beside me in the open carriage but instead of going only to the
edge of the village, he drove with me to the city, getting out
at the gates and, after a cordial handshake, starting back alone
on the journey of an hour and a half homeward. As he left the
carriage I noticed a bit of paper lying on the seat which he had
just vacated. I thought that he had forgotten it and beckoned him
to come back; but he shook his head and with a loud laugh, as at
the success of a ruse, he ran the faster in the opposite direction.
I unrolled the paper and it contained exactly the amount of the
carriage-hire which I had agreed upon with the driver. His manner
of life had so estranged him from all the habits and customs of
the world that it probably never occurred to him that under other
circumstances he would have been guilty of a gross offence. I took
the matter as it was intended and laughingly paid my coachman with
the money which had been given to me.[87]

In a Conversation Book used during the visit to Hetzendorf may be read
one side of a conversation about “Melusine” which permits us to observe
the poet’s capacity to look into the future:

Are you still of the opinion that something else ought to be
substituted for the first chorus of our opera? Perhaps a few tones
of the hunting-horns might be continued by an invisible chorus of
nymphs. I have been thinking if it might not be possible to mark
every appearance of Melusine or of her influence in the action by a
recurrent and easily grasped melody. Might not the overture begin
with this and after the rushing _Allegro_ the introduction be made
out of the same melody? I have thought of this melody as that to
which Melusine sings her first song.

Grillparzer speaks of “Dragomira,” promises to send the plot to
Beethoven in writing and makes many observations concerning music and
musicians which must have interested Beethoven even when he did not
agree with him. He asserts that on the whole the North Germans know
little of music--they will never produce anything higher than “Der
Freischütz.” Also he has a good word for Italian opera:

And yet I cannot agree with those who unqualifiedly reject Italian
opera. To my mind there are two kinds of opera--one setting out
from the text, the other from the music. The latter is the Italian
opera. Lablache, and in a degree Fodor, are better actors than the
Germans ever had. Perhaps Mozart formed himself on the Italian
opera. It is worse now. You would have trouble to find singers for
your opera.

[Sidenote: ADVICE SOUGHT FROM FRIENDS]

There are many others with whom Beethoven discussed the opera and
who came to him to tell him of their desire to see it written.
Duport is greatly interested, wants to read the book with care and
asks Beethoven’s terms; Lichnowsky is willing to risk the financial
outcome; “I will go security,” he says in October, “for the money
which you want for the opera. After selling the opera to the director
you can still reserve the right of disposing of it at home and
abroad.” And again: “If you do not compose the opera it will be all
day with German opera--everybody says that. After the failure of
Weber’s opera ‘Euryanthe’ many sent the books back. ‘Freischütz’ is
not a genuine opera. If you can use me in any way, you know me and
how sincere I am”; and still again, towards the end of November: “You
will get incomparably more without a contract; if you want one, the
director will make a contract with pleasure at once. Talk it over with
Grillparzer; it will also be all one to him. Duport already asked about
the opera several days ago.” From other quarters Beethoven is urged
to write to Duport after the latter had written to him. In a letter
which must have been written late in the year, since Beethoven is back
in his town lodgings, he writes to Grillparzer telling him that the
management had asked for his (Grillparzer’s) terms and suggesting that
he write directly to the management and he would do the same.[88] A
later conversation which must have taken place toward the close of
the year (and may have been the result of this letter) begins with a
complaint by Grillparzer against the censorship for having forbidden
his “Ottokar.” Beethoven’s part in the dialogue may easily be supplied
by the imagination, and it will be seen that he is still unreconciled
to the opening chorus.

You have again taken up “Melusine?” I have already appealed to
the management twice but have had no answer.--I have already
said that I was compelled to ask 100 ducats for it.--Because as
a matter of fact, all the profits of an opera-book remain with
the theatre in which it is performed for the first time.--I could
have made a spoken drama out of the same material which would have
brought me three times as much--I _must_ ask so much in order to
meet my obligations to Wallishauser. For ordinary opera-books
they pay up to 300 florins C. M. Have you already begun to
compose?--Will you please write down for me where you want the
changes made?--Because then, nevertheless, the piece will _have_
to begin with a hunt.--Perhaps the last tones of a vanishing
hunters’ chorus might blend with the introduction without having
the hunters enter.--To begin with a chorus of nymphs might weaken
the effect of the chorus at the close of the first act.--I am
not quite versed in opera texts.--You want to deliver it to the
theatre by September.--The direction wants to make a creditable
showing in the eyes of the public.--Doesn’t the text of the opera
also seem too _long_ to you?--To whom are you thinking of giving
the rôle of _Raimund_?--They are talking of a young tenor who may
have made his début by that time. I believe his name is Cramolini;
besides a handsome figure he is said to have a beautiful voice.--It
is said that the direction is having him educated.--Forti is a
little too gross.--Then I am to expect your written suggestion as
to alterations, soon?--I am not busy at present.--I am ready for
anything.

For a space there is talk about oratorio texts (“Judith”) and the
possibility of musical expression in the case of Christ. Then the text
of “Dragomira” is referred to, concerning which Beethoven seems to have
asked. Grillparzer says:

Dragomira. Great variety--great characters, effects.--The mother
of St. Wenzelaus, the Duke of Bohemia.--One of her sons kills the
other. She herself is a pagan, the better son is a Christian. They
still show the spot in Prague where she was swallowed up by the
earth with horses and equipage.--After I have lost all hope _here_
I shall send it to Berlin.

There is much more talk in the Conversation Book about the opera, but
neither sequence nor date can always be determined. Lichnowsky tells
him that the management of the theatre is willing to do anything
asked of it and is negotiating with Grillparzer. Brother Johann says:
“Grillparzer is coming to-morrow--that is no affair of yours.--You
wrote to the management to make arrangements with the poet, and to this
it was agreed; hence Grillparzer must make terms.” In the same book
Schikh, the editor, writes: “Why don’t you compose Grillparzer’s opera?
Write the opera first and then we shall be in a position to wish you
also to write a Requiem.”

[Sidenote: GRILLPARZER PARTS WITH BEETHOVEN]

Grillparzer says that Beethoven told him in Hetzendorf that his opera
was ready (whether he meant in his head or in its essential elements
in the numerous sketchbooks, the poet could not say), but after the
composer’s death not a single note was found which could indubitably
be assigned to their common work. The poet had faithfully adhered to
his resolve not to remind the composer of the work in any way and “was
never near him again until, clad in black and carrying a burning torch
in my [his] hand,” he walked behind his coffin. Grillparzer’s memory
is faulty in a few details. He says that he never met Beethoven after
the visit to Hetzendorf except once; but the two men were together
again in 1824. This, however, is inconsequential; the fact remains that
Beethoven did not compose “Melusine.”--Why not? Many reasons must be
obvious to those who have followed this narrative closely: illness;
vexation of spirit; loss of initiative; a waning of the old capacity
to assimilate conceptions and ideas which did not originate in his
own consciousness and were not in harmony with his own predilections.
Moreover, it was the period of his greatest introspection; he was
communing more and more with his own soul, and separating himself more
and more from all agencies of utterance except the one which spoke most
truthfully and directly within him, and to which he entrusted his last
revelations--the string quartet. “Melusine” was not composed, but the
opera continued to occupy his attention at intervals until deep into
the next year, and unless Holz is in error, some of his last labors
were devoted to it. Too literal an acceptance must not, therefore, be
given to Schindler’s statement that he “suddenly” abandoned the plan of
writing a German opera because he learned that the similarity between
the subjects of “Melusine” and “Undine” would embarrass the production
of the former in Berlin.

[Illustration: B A C H]

A project which cropped out intermittently during 1823 was the writing
of an overture on the musical motive suggested by the letters composing
the name of Bach. The thought seems to have become fixed in his mind
in 1822, though the device of using as a motive in composition was
at least as old as the Leipsic master’s “Art of Fugue,” and no doubt
familiar to Beethoven. However, he was deeply engrossed in fugal
writing at this period and it is very likely, as Nottebohm suggests,
that he conceived an overture on the motive as a tribute to Bach’s
genius. Several sketches showing different forms of the theme appear
in the books of 1823; and a collateral memorandum, “This overture with
the new symphony, and we shall have a concert (_Akademie_) in the
Kärnthnerthor Theatre,” amongst sketches for the last quartets in
1825, shows that he clung to the idea almost to the end. Had Beethoven
carried out all the plans for utilizing the theme which presented
themselves to him between 1822 and 1825, there would have been several
Bach overtures; unfortunately, he carried out none.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN AND THE BOY LISZT]

On April 13, 1823, the boy Franz Liszt, who was studying with Carl
Czerny and had made his first public appearance on the first day of
the year, gave a concert in the small Ridotto room. Together with his
father he had been presented to Beethoven by Schindler, but had not
been received with any special marks of friendliness. The precocious
boy gave expression to the hope that Beethoven would attend his
approaching concert.[89] Later in the Conversation Book:

Little Liszt has urgently requested me humbly to beg you for a
theme on which he wishes to improvise at his concert to-morrow. He
will not break the seal till the time comes. The little fellow’s
improvisations do not seriously signify. The lad is a fine pianist,
but so far as his fancy is concerned it is far from the truth
to say that he really improvises (_was Phantasie anbelangt, so
ist es noch weit am Tage bis man sagen kann, er phantasiert_).
Czerny (Carl) is his teacher. Just eleven years. Do come; it will
certainly please Karl to hear how the little fellow plays. It is
unfortunate that the lad is in Czerny’s hands.--You will make good
the rather unfriendly reception of recent date by coming to little
Liszt’s concert?--It will encourage the boy.--Promise me to come.

Did Beethoven attend the concert, and did he afterwards go upon the
stage, lift up the prodigy and kiss him? So the world has long believed
on the authority of Nohl,[90] who got the story from Liszt himself.
Schindler ought to be a good witness in this case, since he pleaded
the cause of the little lad before his great friend; but unfortunately
Schindler in this instance gives testimony at one time which he
impeaches at another. In the second edition of his “Biography of
Beethoven” (Münster, 1845, second appendix, page 71, note) he says:

One can never know if a child will grow into a man, and if so what
kind of man; so I could not foresee when I introduced the promising
boy Liszt and his father in 1823, to Beethoven, what kind of
musical vandal would grow out of this young talent. Did Beethoven
have a premonition? The reception was not the usual friendly one
and I had reason at the time not to be particularly satisfied,
since the prodigy had interested me in an unusual degree. Beethoven
himself noticed that he had been somewhat lax in his interest in
little Franz, which made it easy to persuade him to honor the
concert of little Liszt with his presence in order to atone for the
indifference he had first shown.

In the third edition of his book (1860, Part II, p. 178) he says:

The author knows of only one reception to which the term “friendly”
can not be applied. It was in the case of little Franz Liszt, who,
accompanied by his father, was presented by me. This unfriendliness
grew out of the excessive idolization of this truly sensational
talent; but chiefly it was due to the request made of Beethoven
to give the twelve-year-old lad a theme for improvisation at
his farewell concert--a request which was as indiscreet as it
was unreasonable. But hyperenthusiasm always betrays a want of
timeliness. It is not impossible that this enthusiasm, after
Beethoven had declined the request with obvious displeasure, yet
managed to secure from Emperor Franz, or at least Archduke Rudolph,
a theme for the young virtuoso. The idolatry of the wonder-child
gave the master, who had gone through so severe a school of
experience, a text for many observations on the hindrances and
clogs to the equable development of extraordinary talents as soon
as they were made the darlings of the multitude. Sketches of the
life of Liszt have stated that Beethoven attended the farewell
concert of 1823; in Schilling’s encyclopædia it is added that
Beethoven at this concert shook the hand of little Liszt and
thereby designated him as worthy of the name of artist. Beethoven
did _not_ attend the concert; nor any private concert after
1816.[91]

The visit of Louis Schloesser, afterwards chapelmaster in Darmstadt,
who delivered the message from the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt,
took place in the spring of the year. His description of the visit
was printed in the journal “Hallelujah” in 1885 (Nos. 20 and 21).
Schloesser revisited him later and met him afterwards in town, walking
with him to Steiner, whom he said he was about to take to task for a
remissness. “When it comes to the publication of a new work,” Beethoven
said, “they would like to postpone it as long as possible, even till
after my death, thinking thus to do a better business with it; but I
shall checkmate them.” Schloesser was surprised on this occasion to
find Beethoven dressed with unwonted elegance and remarked the fact to
Mayseder, who explained, with a smile, that it was not the first time
that his friends had stolen his old clothes at night and left new ones
in their place. Mayseder added that the substitution was never noticed
by Beethoven, who donned the garments with perfect calmness. Schloesser
observes that he never detected the least sign of absentmindedness in
Beethoven.

At the last meeting between the men Schloesser showed Beethoven one of
his compositions, a somewhat complicated work. Beethoven looked through
it and observed: “You write too much; less would have been better.
That’s the way of our young heaven-stormers who think that they can
never do enough. But that will change with riper age, and I prefer a
superabundance to a paucity of ideas.” To the question how this might
be attained Schloesser says Beethoven replied “literally”:

I carry my thoughts about me for a long time, often a very long
time, before I write them down. Meanwhile my memory is so tenacious
that I am sure never to forget, not even in years, a theme that has
once occurred to me. I change many things, discard and try again
until I am satisfied. Then, however, there begins in my head the
development in every direction and, insomuch as I know exactly what
I want, the fundamental idea never deserts me--it arises before me,
grows--I see and hear the picture in all its extent and dimensions
stand before my mind like a cast and there remains for me nothing
but the labor of writing it down, which is quickly accomplished
when I have the time, for I sometimes take up other work, but never
to the confusion of one with the other. You will ask me where I
get my ideas? That I can not tell you with certainty; they come
unsummoned, directly, indirectly,--I could seize them with my hands
out in the open air; in the woods; while walking; in the silence
of the night; early in the morning; incited by moods which are
translated by the poet into words, by me into tones,--sound and
roar and storm about me until I have set them down in notes.

At parting, Beethoven gave Schloesser a sheet containing a canon
for six voices on the words, “Edel sei der Mensch, hülfreich und
gut,” with the inscription: “Words by Goethe, tones by Beethoven.
Vienna, May, 1823.” On the back he wrote: “A happy journey, my dear
Herr Schloesser, may all things which seem desirable come to meet
you. Your devoted Beethoven.”[92] Judging by the position of the
canon in the Rudolphinian Collection, Nottebohm was of the opinion
that it was composed at an earlier date, say 1819-20. Beethoven also
gave Schloesser, who was going to Paris, a letter of introduction
to Cherubini which accomplished his acceptance as a pupil of the
Conservatoire.

Our old friend Schuppanzigh, after an absence of seven years, returned
to Vienna in 1823. On May 4 he gave a concert at which Piringer
conducted the orchestra, and on June 14 the quartet meetings were
resumed, with Holz, Weiss and Linke as his associates.

[Sidenote: VARIATIONS ON A WALTZ BY DIABELLI]

Schindler places the incident which gave the incentive to the creation
of the last of Beethoven’s characteristic works for the pianoforte,
the “Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli,” Op. 120, in the winter of
1822-’23. In this, as will appear presently, he was in error, as he
was also touching the date of the completion of the composition, but
otherwise his story is no doubt correct. Anton Diabelli, head of the
music-publishing house of Diabelli and Co., having composed a waltz,
conceived the idea of having variations written on its melody by a
large group of the popular composers of the day. Beethoven was among
those who received the invitation, but, mindful of his experiences
in 1808, when he contributed a setting of “In questa tomba” to a
similar conglomeration, he declared that he would never do so again.
Moreover, so Schindler says, he did not like the tune, which he called
a _Schusterfleck_.[93] He declined Diabelli’s request, but not long
afterward asked Schindler to inquire of Diabelli if he were disposed
to take from him a set of variations on the waltz, and if so, what
he would pay. Diabelli received the proposition with delight and
offered 80 ducats, requiring not more than six or seven variations.
The contract was formally closed and Beethoven remarked to Schindler:
“Good; he shall have variations on his cobble!” This the story as told
by Schindler. Lenz, who claimed to have the authority of Holz for his
version, says that after receiving thirty-two variations from other
composers, Diabelli went to Beethoven and asked him for the one which
he had promised. Beethoven inquired how many variations he already had
and when Diabelli replied “Thirty-two” he said: “Well, go and publish
them and I alone will write you thirty-three.” This story, however,
lacks probability. Lenz himself says that Diabelli told him that
Beethoven had not agreed to write for him; hence he could not have
asked for the “promised” variation. But Schindler is also wrong in
saying that the variations were the first work taken up by Beethoven
after his removal to Hetzendorf in the summer of 1823 and that they
were published in July. They were advertised as published by Diabelli
in the “Wiener Zeitung” on June 16, 1823, and there are other dates
to corroborate the evidence that they were finished when Beethoven
removed to Hetzendorf on May 17. On May 7 Beethoven offered them for
publication to Lissner in St. Petersburg; on April 25 he wrote to
Ries: “You will also receive in a few weeks 33 variations on a theme,
dedicated to your wife,” and on July 16: “By this time the variations
must be with you.” The date of Diabelli’s conception of the plan was
probably a whole year, even two years earlier than the date given by
Schindler. In a letter dated June 5, 1822, Beethoven offered to Peters
“Variations on a Waltz for pianoforte solo (there are many)” for 30
ducats; they must therefore have been far advanced in composition and
fully planned at that time. Nottebohm says that Schubert’s contribution
to the collection of variations bears on the autograph the date “March,
1821.” The Variations appeared from the press of Diabelli and Co. in
June, with a dedication to Mme. Antonia von Brentano; not, it will be
observed, to the wife of Ries. Had there been an English edition there
would have been such a dedication, but it is another case in which an
English publisher was disappointed in the conduct of the composer. Ries
had complied with Beethoven’s solicitations and secured a publisher.
He closed an agreement with Boosey; but when the manuscript reached
London, Boosey was already in possession of a copy of the Vienna
edition and the work had also been printed in Paris. The copy made
for London bore a dedication written in large letters by Beethoven to
Madame Ries; but the printed copies were inscribed to Madame Brentano.
Beethoven attempted an explanation and defence in a letter to Ries
dated Baden September 5:

You say that I ought to look about me for somebody to look after
my affairs. This was the case with the _Variat._ which were cared
for by my friends and Schindler. The _Variat._ were not to appear
here until after they had been published in London. The dedication
to B---- (not clear) was intended only for Germany, as I was
under obligations to her and could publish nothing else at the
time; besides only Diabelli, the publisher here, got them from
me. Everything was done by Schindler; a bigger wretch I never got
acquainted with on God’s earth--an arch-scoundrel whom I have sent
about his business. I can dedicate another work to your wife in
place of it.

How much blame in this affair really attached to Schindler is not
known; it seems pretty apparent that though Beethoven was also fuming
against him at the time at home, he was doing duty in London as a
whipping-boy. Beethoven went right on calling in the help of the
“biggest wretch on earth and arch-scoundrel.”

[Sidenote: TROUBLED BY HIS EYES AT HETZENDORF]

After the labors and vexations of town life in the winter, the call of
the country in the summer was more than usually imperative, because the
work which had long occupied Beethoven’s mind--the Ninth Symphony--was
demanding completion. His brother Johann had invited him to visit
him on his estate near Gneixendorf, but he had declined. His choice
for the summer sojourn fell upon Hetzendorf, a village not far from
Vienna, where he hit upon a villa, surrounded by a beautiful park,
which belonged to Baron Müller-Pronay. There was some haggling about
the rent and some questioning about the post service--an important
matter in view of the many negotiations with publishers, in all of
which Schindler was depended on--but eventually all was arranged.
Ill health marred the Hetzendorf sojourn. Beethoven’s other ailments
were augmented by a painful affection of the eyes which called for
medical treatment, retarded his work and caused him no small amount of
anxiety. Complaints on this score began in April and were continued
through July, on the 15th of which month he writes to the Archduke, “My
eyes are better, but improvement is slow. It would be more rapid if
I were not obliged to use glasses; it is an unfortunate circumstance
which delays me in everything”; and later, when on a short visit to
Vienna: “I have just heard here that Y. I. H. is coming to-morrow. If
I cannot obey the wishes of my heart, please ascribe it to my eyes.
They are much better, but I must not breathe the town air for many
more days, for it would have ill effects on my eyes.” In August, very
shortly before his departure for Baden: “I am feeling really badly,
not my eyes alone. I purpose to drag myself to Baden to-morrow to take
lodgings and in a few days will have to go there to stay. The town air
has an injurious effect on my entire organization and I hurt myself
by going twice to my physicians in the city.” From Baden on the 22nd
he complains of a catarrhal affection, the misery in his bowels and
the trouble with his eyes, but adds: “Thank God, the eyes are so much
improved that I can again use them considerably in the daytime. Things
are going better also with my other ailments; more could not be asked
in this short time.”

Among the cheering incidents of the summer were the reports which
reached him of the production of “Fidelio” under the direction of Weber
in Dresden. Weber opened a correspondence on January 28 and continued
it with letters dated February 18, April 7 and June 5; Beethoven’s
answers were dated February 16, April 10 and June 9. Most unfortunately
all these letters have disappeared, and the only hints we have as to
their contents are from the draft for Weber’s first communication
discovered among the papers of the writer:

“Fidelio.” To Beethoven. The performance in Prague under my
direction of this mighty work, which bears testimony to German
grandeur and depth of feeling, gave me an intimacy, as inspiring
as it was instructive, with the essence through which I hope to
present it to the public in its complete effectiveness here, where
I have all possible means at my command. Every representation will
be a festival day on which I shall be privileged to offer to your
exalted mind the homage which lives in my heart, where reverence
and love for you struggle with each other.

Weber had received the score of the opera on April 10 from Beethoven,
who had to borrow it from the Kärnthnerthor Theatre, whose musical
archives were in the care of Count Gallenberg. Through Schindler,
Gallenberg sent word to Beethoven that he would send the score,
provided two copies were on hand; if not, he would have a copy made.
Schindler, reporting the message to Beethoven, adds that Gallenberg had
said he thought Beethoven himself had the score: “But when I assured
him that you did not have it he said that its loss was a consequence
of your irregularity and many changes of lodgings.”[94] Nevertheless,
Weber got the score and after fourteen rehearsals the representation
took place with great success. Von Könneritz, Director-General of the
Royal Chapel, reported the triumph to Beethoven and sent Beethoven a
fee of 40 ducats. Beethoven in acknowledging receipt on July 17 is
emboldened “by the account which my dear friend Maria Weber gives me
of the admirable and noble motives of Your Excellency” to ask his
intercession with the Saxon court in behalf of the Mass in D, as has
already been recorded in this chapter.

A number of incidents may now hurriedly be marshalled. In 1822 the
Royal Academy of Music of Sweden had elected Beethoven to foreign
membership. The consent of the Austrian government was necessary to
his acceptance of the honor and this seems to have been deferred an
unconscionably long time; at least Beethoven’s letters to the Academy
and to King Charles XIV (whom as General Bernadotte, then French
ambassador at Vienna, he had known 25 years before) are dated March
1, 1823. When permission came he wrote notes to the editors of the
newspapers “Beobachter” and “Wiener Zeitschrift,” asking them to
announce the fact of his election--a circumstance which shows that
he was not always as indifferent to distinctions of all kinds as he
professed occasionally. Franz Schoberlechner, a young pianist, appealed
to him for letters of recommendation to be used on a concert-tour. The
letter reached Beethoven through Schindler, to whom he returned it with
the curt indorsement: “A capable fellow has no need of recommendation
other than from one good house to another.” Schindler importuned him
again, and Beethoven wrote to him somewhat testily: “It must be plain
to you that I do not want to have anything to do with this matter.
As for ‘being noble’ I think I have shown you sufficiently that I am
that on principle; I even think that you must have observed that I
have never been otherwise. _Sapienti sat._” That ended the matter;
but when Chapelmaster Dreschler of the Josephstadt Theatre became a
candidate for the post of second court organist, Beethoven recommended
him enthusiastically to Archduke Rudolph, whom in a second letter he
urged to remain firm notwithstanding that Abbé Stadler had presented
another candidate. Archduke Rudolph spoke to the emperor and Count
Dietrichstein in favor of Drechsler, but in vain. In his letters
Beethoven referred to a canon, “Grossen Dank,” which he said he had
written for the Archduke and which he intended to hand him in person.
Sketches for it have been found among those for the third movement of
the Ninth Symphony, but nothing has yet been heard of the completed
work.

[Sidenote: TROUBLES WITH A COUNTRY LANDLORD]

Beethoven’s domestic affairs continued to plague him. While at
Hetzendorf he had the services of a housekeeper whom he described as
“the swift-sailing frigate” Frau Schnaps, in letters to Schindler. He
has no end of trouble about his town lodging in the Kothgasse where
Schindler was living, and must needs take time to write long letters to
his factotum on the subject. Here is one sent from Hetzendorf on July 2:

The continued brutality of the landlord, from the beginning as
long as I have been in the house, calls for the help of the R.
I. Police. Go to them direct. As regards the storm-window, the
housekeeper was ordered to look after it and particularly after
the recent severe rain-storm to see if it was necessary to prevent
rain from entering the room; but she found that it had neither
rained in nor could rain in. Believing this, I put on the lock so
that the brutal fellow could not open my room in my absence as he
threatened to do. Tell them further how he behaved towards you and
that he put up the bill without notice, which he has no right to do
before St. James’s day.--He has also refused to give me a receipt
from St. George’s to St. James’ as this paper shows because of the
demand that I pay a charge for lighting of which I knew nothing.
This abominable lodging _without a stove-flue_ and with the most
wretched sort of main chimney has cost me at least 259 florins W.
W. for extra expenses above the rent in order to make it habitable
while I was there in the winter. It was an intentional cheat,
inasmuch as I never saw the lodgings in the first storey but only
in the second, for which reason many objectionable things remained
unknown to me. I can not comprehend how it is possible that so
_shameful a chimney, ruinous to human health, can be tolerated by
the government_. You remember how the walls of your room looked
because of smoke, how much it cost to get rid of some but not all
of the nuisance. The chief thing now is that he be commanded to
take down the notice and to give me the receipt for the rent paid
at any rate. I never had that wretched lighting, but had other
large expenses in order to make life endurable in this lodging. My
sore eyes can not yet stand the town air, otherwise I would myself
go to the imperial police.

Schindler obeyed instructions; the police director, Ungermann, sent
his compliments to Beethoven, told him that his wishes were all
granted in advance but advised him to pay the 6 florins for lighting
to prevent a scoundrelly landlord from having any kind of hold upon
him--and Schindler got well scolded for his pains! How could he accept
something-or-other from such a churl accompanied by a threat? Where was
his judgment? Where he always kept it, of course! The bill came down,
but Beethoven did not keep the lodging.

Beethoven’s nephew Karl pursued his studies at Blöchlinger’s
Institute till in August and then spent his vacation with his uncle
in Baden. He made himself useful as amanuensis and otherwise, and
his words are occasionally found among the notes of conversation.
His mother remains in the background for the time being, which
is providential, for Beethoven has trouble enough with his other
delectable sister-in-law, the wife of Johann, whose conduct reaches
the extreme of reprehensibleness in the summer of 1823, during a spell
of sickness which threw her husband on his back. The woman chose this
time to receive her lover in her house and to make a shameless public
parade of her moral laxness. The step-daughter was no less neglectful
of her filial duties. Accounts of his sister-in-law’s misconduct
reached Beethoven’s ears from various quarters and he was frank in his
denunciation of her to his brother and only a little more plain-spoken
than Schindler, who was asked by Beethoven to lay the matter before the
police, but managed to postpone that step for the time being.[95]

[Sidenote: AUTOGRAPHED SHUTTERS IN DEMAND]

Meanwhile Beethoven was hard at work on the Ninth Symphony. It was so
ever-present with him that there was neither paradox nor hyperbole in
his words: “I am never alone when I am alone.” He had much to irritate
him while sketches and drafts of the symphony were piling up before
him in August, and finally, if Schindler is to be believed, he could
no longer endure the obsequious bows with which his landlord, Baron
Pronay, always greeted him, and resolved to abandon the pretty villa
at Hetzendorf and go to Baden. He may have formed the plan earlier in
the year--probably had--but the baron’s excessive politeness helped
to turn his departure into something like a bolt. He went to Baden on
a house-hunting expedition with Schindler, and returning, sent his
“swift-sailing frigate” to Schindler with a billet commanding him to
be up and off at 5 o’clock in the morning “_presto prestissimo_.” He
knew only one lodging in Baden suited to his requirements--the one
which he had occupied in 1822--but the owner refused to let him have it
again. This owner was a locksmith. To him Schindler was sent. In the
name of his master he made all manner of humble promises concerning
more orderly conduct and consideration for the other tenants, but the
plea was rejected. A second appeal was made and now the houseowner
relented, but made it a condition that Beethoven replace the
window-shutters which had been removed. Beethoven was the more willing
to do this, since he thought it necessary for the sake of his eyes.
The landlord had not divulged the reason for his demand. Beethoven was
in the habit of scrawling all kinds of memoranda on his shutters in
leadpencil--accounts, musical themes, etc. A family from North Germany
had noticed this in the previous year and on Beethoven’s departure had
bought one of the shutters as a curiosity. The thrifty locksmith had an
eye for business and disposed of the remaining shutters to other summer
visitors.

Beethoven had arrived in Baden on August 13 with the help of Schindler,
towards whom he was filled with as much gratitude as can be read in the
following remarks from two letters to his nephew dated August 16 and 23:

My ruined belly must be restored by medicine and diet, and this I
owe to the _faithful messenger_! You can imagine how I am racing
about, for only to-day did I really begin my service to the muses;
I _must_, though that is not noticeable, for the baths invite me at
least to the enjoyment of beautiful nature, but _nous sommes trop
pauvre et il faut écrire ou de n’avoir pas de quoi_.

He (Schindler) was with me only a day here to take a lodging,
as you know; slept in Hetzendorf, and as he said, went back to
Josephstadt in the morning. Do not get to gossipping against him.
It might work him injury, and is he not already sufficiently
punished? Being what he is, it is necessary plainly to tell him
the truth, for his evil character which is prone to trickery needs
to be handled seriously.

Beethoven’s unamiable mood, which finds copious expression in abuse of
Schindler at this juncture, has some explanation (also extenuation, if
that is necessary) in the rage and humiliation with which contemplation
of his brother’s domestic affairs filled him. Johann was convalescing
and wrote a letter to the composer which occasioned the following
outburst under date of August 13:

Dear Brother:

I am rejoiced at your better health. As regards myself, my eyes
are not entirely recovered and I came here with a disordered
stomach and a frightful catarrh, the first due to the arch-pig of
a housekeeper, the second to a beast of a kitchen-maid whom I have
once driven away but whom the other took back. _You ought not to
have gone to Steiner_; I will see what can be done. It will be
difficult to do anything with the songs _in puris_ as their texts
are German; more likely with the overture.

I received your letter of the 10th at the hands of the miserable
scoundrel Schindler. You need only to give your letters directly
to the post, I am certain to receive them, for I avoid this mean
and contemptible fellow as much as possible. Karl can not come to
me before the 29th of this month when he will write you. You can
not well be wholly unadvised as to what the two _canailles_, Lump
and Bastard,[96] are doing to you, and you have had letters on the
subject from me and Karl, for, little as you deserve it I shall
never forget that you are my brother, and a good angel will yet
come to rid you of these two _canailles_. This former and present
strumpet who received visits from her fellow no less than three
times while you were ill, and who in addition to everything else
has your money wholly in her hands. O infamous disgrace! Isn’t
there a spark of manhood in you?!!!... About coming to you I will
write another time. Ought I so to _degrade_ myself as to associate
with such bad company? Mayhap this can be avoided and we yet pass
a few days with you. About the rest of your letter another time.
Farewell. Unseen I hover over you and work through others so that
these _canailles_ shall not strangle you.

As always your faithful
Brother.

There were several visitors to Beethoven at Baden in the summer of 1823
who have left accounts of their experiences. One was an Englishman,
Edward Schulz, who published his story in the “Harmonicon” in January
1824. This extremely lively letter was reprinted by Moscheles in
his translation (or rather, adaptation) of Schindler’s biography
of Beethoven and incorporated in the second German edition, where
Schindler accompanies it with several illuminative glosses which are
less necessary now than they were when the biographer wrote. Schulz
visited Beethoven on September 28 in the company of Haslinger. He
describes it as a _dies faustus_ for him and, as Schindler shrewdly
observes, it must also have been one for Beethoven, since he managed
to hear the conversation of his visitors without the aid of an
ear-trumpet. He talked with great animation, as was his wont when in
good humor, but, says the English visitor, “one unlucky question, one
ill-judged piece of advice--for instance, concerning the cure of his
deafness--is quite sufficient to estrange him from you forever.” He
asked Haslinger about the highest possible note on the trombone, but
was dissatisfied with the answer which he received; introduced his
nephew and showed his pride in the youth’s attainments by telling his
guest that he might put to him “a riddle in Greek” if he liked. At
dinner during a visit to the Helenenthal he commented on the profusion
of provisions at dinner, saying: “Why such a variety of dishes? Man is
but little above other animals if his chief pleasure is confined to a
dinner-table.” A few excerpts from the letter will serve to advance the
present narrative:

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S TRIBUTE TO HANDEL]

In the whole course of our table-talk there was nothing so
interesting as what he said about Handel. I sat close by him
and heard him assert very distinctly in German, “Handel is the
greatest composer that ever lived.” I can not describe to you
with what pathos, and I am inclined to say, with what sublimity
of language, he spoke of the “Messiah” of this immortal genius.
Every one of us was moved when he said, “I would uncover my head,
and kneel down at his tomb!” H. and I tried repeatedly to turn the
conversation to Mozart, but without effect. I only heard him say,
“In a monarchy we know who is the first”; which might or might
not apply to the subject.... He is engaged in writing a new opera
called “Melusine,” the words by the famous but unfortunate poet
Grillparzer. He concerns himself but very little about the newest
productions of living composers, insomuch, that when I asked about
the “Freischütz,” he replied, “I believe _one_ Weber has written
it”.... He appears uniformly to entertain the most favorable
opinion of the British nation. “I like,” said he, “the noble
simplicity of the English manners,” and added other praises. It
seemed to me as if he had yet some hopes of visiting this country
together with his nephew. I should not forget to mention that I
heard a MS. trio of his for the pianoforte, violin and violoncello,
which I thought very beautiful, and as, I understood, to appear
shortly in London.

Our author’s statement that he heard a manuscript pianoforte trio at
this time piques curiosity. Schindler disposes of the question as to
what it may have been in the manner more characteristic of the present
than the past attitude of German writers towards everything English or
American. “Who knows what it was that the non-musical gentleman took
for a trio?” he asks. Evidently Schindler was of the opinion that no
Englishman except, possibly, a professional musician, could count
three or recognize the employment of pianoforte, violin and violoncello
in a piece of music. He is right in scouting the idea that it could
have been the great Trio in B-flat, for that work had long been in
print. Nor is it likely to have been the little trio in the same key
dedicated to Maximiliane Brentano; for though that was not published
at the time, it is not likely that Beethoven would produce it in 1823
as a novelty. There are in existence sketches for a Trio in F minor
made in 1815, but nothing to show that the work was ever written out.
Had it been in Beethoven’s hands at a time when he was turning over
the manuscripts of earlier days, it would surely have been offered to
a publisher; so that is out of the way. There is only one other known
work which invites speculation--the “Adagio, Variations and Rondo,”
for pianoforte, violin and violoncello, which Steiner and Co. gave to
the public in 1824, as Op. 121. The variations are on a melody from
Wenzel Müller’s opera “Die Schwestern aus Prag” (“Ich bin der Schneider
Kakadu”). It is at least remotely possible that this was the trio which
the English traveller heard, and if so we have in the fact a hint as to
the time of its origin--the only hint yet given.

[Sidenote: VON WEBER’S VISIT TO BEETHOVEN]

A few days after the one just recorded Beethoven received a visit
from a man of much greater moment than the English traveller. The new
visitor was Carl Maria von Weber. That the composer of “Der Freischütz”
was unable in his salad days to appreciate the individuality of
Beethoven’s genius has already been set forth; and the author of the
letter in the “Harmonicon” seems to have learned that Beethoven was
disposed to speak lightly of Weber only a month before he received
him with most amiable distinction at Baden. Schindler’s explanation,
that a memory of Weber’s criticism of the Fourth Symphony may at the
moment have risen, ghost-like, in Beethoven’s mind and prompted the
disparaging allusion quoted by Schulz, is far-fetched. It is not
necessary to account for such moody remarks in Beethoven’s case. He was
often unjust in his comments on even his most devoted friends, and we
may believe that to Schulz he did speak of the composer as “one Weber,”
and at the same time accept the account which Max Maria von Weber gives
of the reception of his father by Beethoven. From the affectionate
biography written by the son, we learn that after the sensational
success achieved by “Der Freischütz” Beethoven was led to study its
score and that he was so astonished at the originality of the music
that he struck the book with his hand and exclaimed: “I never would
have thought it of the gentle little man (_sonst weiche Männel_). Now
Weber must write operas; nothing but operas--one after the other and
without polishing them too much. _Casper_, the monster, stands out here
like a house. Wherever the devil puts in his claws they are felt.” He
learned to know “Euryanthe” later and was less impressed by it than
by its predecessor. After glancing through it hurriedly he remarked:
“The man has taken too much pains.”[97] Whatever may have been their
earlier feelings and convictions, however, the representations of
“Fidelio” at Prague and Dresden under the direction of Weber warmed
their hearts towards each other. Weber’s filial biographer says that
when the youthful sin of his father was called to the notice of
Beethoven, the latter showed some resentment, but there is no shadow
of this in the pictures which we have from the pens of Weber himself,
Max Maria von Weber and Julius Benedict, of the meeting between the two
men. Weber had come to Vienna, bringing with him his pupil Benedict,
to conduct the first performance of “Euryanthe.” On his visit in the
previous year, when “Der Freischütz” was produced, he had neglected
to call on Beethoven, but now some kindly words about “Euryanthe”
spoken by Beethoven to Steiner being repeated to him, he made good his
dereliction and, announced by Haslinger, drove out to Baden to pay his
respects. In his diary Weber noted the visit thus: “The 5th, Sunday
(October, 1823), at 8 o’clock, drove with Burger (Piringer), Haslinger
and Benedict to Baden; abominable weather; Saw spring and baths; to
Duport and _Beethoven_; received by him with great cordiality. Dined
with him, his nephew and Eckschlager at the Sauerhof. Very cheerful.
Back again at 5 o’clock.” On the next day (though the letter is dated
“October 5”) Weber wrote an account to his wife as follows:

I was right tired but had to get up yesterday at 6 o’clock
because the excursion to Baden had been appointed for half-past 7
o’clock. This took place with Hasslinger, Piringer and Benedict;
but unfortunately the weather was atrocious. The main purpose
was to see Beethoven. He received me with an affection which was
touching; he embraced me most heartily at least six or seven times
and finally exclaimed enthusiastically: “Indeed, you’re a devil
of a fellow!--a good fellow!” We spent the afternoon very merrily
and contentedly. This rough, repellant man actually paid court to
me, served me at table as if I had been his lady. In short, this
day will always remain remarkable in my memory as well as of those
present. It was uplifting for me to be overwhelmed with such loving
attention by this great genius. How saddening is his deafness!
Everything must be written down for him. We inspected the baths,
drank the waters, and at 5 o’clock drove back to Vienna.

Max Maria von Weber in his account of the incident says that Beethoven,
in the conversation which followed his greeting of the “devil of
a fellow,” railed at the management of the theatre, the concert
impresarios, the public, the Italians, the taste of the people,
and particularly at the ingratitude of his nephew. Weber, who was
deeply moved, advised him to tear himself away from his discouraging
environment and make an artistic tour through Germany, which would show
him what the world thought of him. “Too late!” exclaimed Beethoven,
shaking his head and going through the motions of playing the
pianoforte. “Then go to England, where you are admired,” wrote Weber.
“Too late!” cried Beethoven, drew Weber’s arm into his and dragged him
along to the Sauerhof, where they dined. At parting, Beethoven embraced
and kissed him several times and cried: “Good luck to the new opera; if
I can I’ll come to the first performance.”

[Sidenote: SIR JULIUS BENEDICT’S RECORD]

A generation later Sir Julius Benedict, who had also put his memory
of those Vienna days at the service of Weber’s son, wrote down his
recollections for his work in these words:

I endeavor, as I promised you, to recall the impressions I received
of Beethoven when I first met him in Vienna in October, 1823. He
then lived at Baden; but regularly, once a week, he came to the
city and he never failed to call on his old friends Steiner and
Haslinger, whose music-store was then in the Paternostergässchen, a
little street, no longer in existence, between the Graben and the
Kohlmarkt.

If I am not mistaken, on the morning that I saw Beethoven for
the first time, Blahetka, the father of the pianist, directed
my attention to a stout, short man with a very red face, small,
piercing eyes, and bushy eyebrows, dressed in a very long overcoat
which reached nearly to his ankles, who entered the shop about 12
o’clock. Blahetka asked me: “Who do you think that is?” and I at
once exclaimed: “It must be Beethoven!” because, notwithstanding
the high color of his cheeks and his general untidiness, there was
in those small piercing eyes an expression which no painter could
render. It was a feeling of sublimity and melancholy combined. I
watched, as you can well imagine, every word that he spoke when he
took out his little book and began a conversation which to me, of
course, was almost incomprehensible, inasmuch as he only answered
questions pencilled to him by Messrs. Steiner and Haslinger. I was
not introduced to him on that occasion; but the second time, about
a week after, Mr. Steiner presented me to the great man as a pupil
of Weber. The other persons present were the old Abbé Stadler and
Seyfried. Beethoven said to Steiner: “I rejoice to hear that you
publish once more a German work. I have heard much in praise of
Weber’s opera and hope it will bring both you and him a great deal
of glory.” Upon this Steiner seized the opportunity to say: “Here
is a pupil of Weber’s”; when Beethoven most kindly offered me his
hand, saying: “Pray tell M. de Weber how happy I shall be to see
him at Baden, as I shall not come to Vienna before next month.” I
was so confused at having the great man speak to me that I hadn’t
the courage to ask any questions or continue the conversation with
him.

A few days afterwards I had the pleasure of accompanying Weber
and Haslinger with another friend to Baden, when they allowed me
the great privilege of going with them to Beethoven’s residence.
Nothing could be more cordial than his reception of my master. He
wanted to take us to the Helenenthal and to all the neighborhood;
but the weather was unfavorable, and we were obliged to renounce
this excursion. They all dined together at one table at an inn, and
I, seated at another close to them, had the pleasure of listening
to their conversation.

In the month of November, when Beethoven came to town and paid
his daily visit to the Paternostergässchen, I seldom missed the
opportunity of being one of the circle of young admirers, eager
to show their reverence to the greatest musical genius as well as
hoping to be honored by his notice. Among those whom I met upon
this errand were Carl Maria von Bocklet, his pupil, Worzischek,
Léon de St. Louvain, Mayseder, Holz, Böhm, Linke, Schuppanzigh,
Franz Schubert and Kanne.

On the morning after the first performance of “Euryanthe,” when
Steiner and Haslinger’s shop was filled with the musical and
literary authorities, Beethoven made his appearance and asked
Haslinger: “Well, how did the opera go last night?” The reply
was: “A great triumph.” “_Das freut mich, das freut mich_,” he
exclaimed, and perceiving me he said: “I should so much have liked
to go to the theatre, but,” pointing to his ears, “I go no more
to those places.” Then he asked Gottdank, the régisseur; “How did
little Sontag get on? I take a great interest in her; and how
is the book--good or bad?” Gottdank answered the first question
affirmatively, but as to the other he shrugged his shoulders and
made a negative sign, to which Beethoven replied: “Always the same
story; the Germans cannot write a good libretto.” Upon which I took
his little conversation book and wrote in it: “And ‘Fidelio’?” to
which he answered: “That is a French and Italian book.” I asked him
afterwards: “Which do you consider the best librettos?”; he replied
“‘Wasserträger’ and ‘Vestalin.’”

Further than this I cannot recall any distinct conversation,
although I often met him, and I had never the good fortune of
hearing him perform or seeing him conduct. But the wonderful
impression his first appearance made on me was heightened every
time I met him. When I saw him at Baden, his white hair flowing
over his mighty shoulders, with that wonderful look--sometimes
contracting his brows when anything afflicted him, sometimes
bursting out into a forced laughter, indescribably painful to
his listeners--I was touched as if _King Lear_ or one of the old
Gaelic bards stood before me; and when I thought how the creator
of the sublimest musical works was debarred by a cruel fate for a
great many years from the delight of hearing them performed and
appreciated I could but share the deep grief of all musical minds.

I may add that I heard the first public performance of one of his
so-called “posthumous” quartets in his own presence. Schuppanzigh
and his companions, who had been his interpreters before, were
scarcely equal to this occasion; as they did not seem to understand
the music themselves, they failed entirely to impart its meaning
to the audience. The general impression was most unsatisfactory.
Not until Ernst had completely imbued himself in the spirit of
these compositions could the world discover their long-hidden
beauties.[98]

[Sidenote: SONGS AND MILITARY MARCHES]

Madame Marie Pachler-Koschak, with whom Beethoven had spent many
happy moments in 1817, was among those who took the waters at Baden
in the summer of 1823, but we are told she searched for him in vain,
a fact which shows in what seclusion he must have dwelt some of the
time at least. She was more fortunate when she returned in September
to complete her cure; and when she left Baden she carried with her an
autographic souvenir--a setting of “The beautiful to the good,” the
concluding words of Matthison’s “Opferlied” which he had in hand in
this year. Towards the close of October Beethoven returned to Vienna.
We know the date approximately from Benedict’s account, the first
performance of “Euryanthe” having taken place on October 25. He removed
to new lodgings in the Ungarstrasse, where his nephew remained with him
as long as he continued a student at the university. Here he worked at
the Ninth Symphony, more particularly on the last movement.

The exact chronological order in which works were taken up in 1823
cannot be recorded here. Matthison’s “Opferlied” was taken up several
times--in 1794, then in 1801 and 1802; finally in 1822 and 1823. In its
last stages he extends its dimensions, adds the refrain for chorus and
an orchestral accompaniment.[99] Beethoven had offered it to Peters
in February, 1823, though at that time he described its accompaniment
as being for two clarinets, horn, viola and violoncello, so that the
violins and bassoon were added later. Why Peters did not publish the
song is not known; the manuscript does not seem to have been returned
to Beethoven. Nottebohm concludes that two or more versions were made
in 1822 and 1823 (possibly as late as 1824), and that the final form
was that known as Op. 121b. On April 9, 1825 (“Notizen,” p. 161), a
letter was written to Ries which said: “You will soon receive a second
copy of the ‘Opferlied,’ which mark as corrected by me so that the one
which you already have may not be used. Here you have an illustration
of the miserable copyist whom I have, since Schlemmer died. You can
depend on scarcely a note.” A sketchbook analyzed by Nottebohm,[100]
which contains sketches made at different times bound up with sketches
for the last quartets made in 1824, shows sketches for a pianoforte
sonata for four hands, the Ninth Symphony, the Mass in C-sharp minor,
a fugue on B-a-c-h, and the “Bundeslied,” besides the latest form of
the “Opferlied” but not wholly like the printed edition. The impetus
to the C-sharp minor mass came in 1823 and the other sketches in all
likelihood were made in the same year. It is therefore to be concluded
that he worked on the new “Opferlied” in 1823 and possibly carried it
over to the early part of 1824. Beethoven owed money to his brother and
offered the song as Johann’s property, in a letter of November 1824,
to Schott and Sons, who published it in 1825; but he made alterations
by letter as late as May 7, 1825. Schindler’s statement that the two
songs “Opferlied” and “Bundeslied” were composed to be sung by the
tenor Ehlers at a benefit concert in Pressburg, is wrong. Schindler’s
inexactitude as to dates is shown by his statements that the concert
took place in 1822 and the song published in 1826. The first song was
written in the soprano clef; the second has tenor clef but two solo
voices; neither was made for Ehlers. As to the “Bundeslied” (words by
Goethe) so far as the history of the song is concerned, the documentary
evidence is found in the sketchbook just mentioned; whether or not it
had its origin at an earlier date has not been ascertained,[101] but
received alterations later. It, too, was published by Schott in 1825.

[Sidenote: MINOR COMPOSITIONS OF THE YEAR 1823]

Besides these songs, and the Bagatelles mentioned in the letter of
February, 1823, as sent to Peters, there are several other minor
compositions which may well be discussed here. The Tattoo with
percussive instruments (Turkish music), the two other Tattoos and a
March, were all old compositions. Up to 1874, when the letter was
made public, only one of the Tattoos had been printed. It was that
in F major, which, according to the autograph preserved by Artaria,
was composed for the Bohemian _Landwehr_ in 1809 and then designated
as March No. 1. A copy more fully orchestrated than it is in the
printed form was dedicated to Prince Anton in that year.[102] A second
autograph of later date (also in Artaria’s collection) is entitled
“Zapfenstreich No. 1.” Here the march had a trio which has not become
known. It was then, together with the one that follows, rewritten for
the tournament at Laxenburg held in honor of the birthday of Empress
Maria Ludovica on August 25, 1810, and this version has been printed
in the Complete Edition of Beethoven’s works.[103] In the earliest
print by Schlesinger it is number 37 in a collection of “Quick-steps
for the Prussian Army. For the York Corps”; but Nottebohm says that
the version does not agree with any of the manuscripts mentioned.
Simultaneously with this march another was published which was composed
in 1810 for Archduke Anton. An autograph at Haslinger’s bears the
inscription “Zapfenstreich No. 3,” and below it “One step to each
measure.” A copy in the archives of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde
is inscribed “March for H. I. Highness, the Archduke Anton, by Ludwig
van Beethoven, 1810 on the 3rd of the Summermonth” (i. e., June). A
third form was prepared for the tournament of 1810, and this has been
published. Artaria had a “Trio No. 3” in F minor, 6-4 time. This is
followed in the “Gesammt-Ausgabe” by a third in C major with a trio
in F major, which was published from a copy made by Nottebohm. This,
which has been published by Haslinger, Steger, and Liszt and Franke,
was entitled “Zapfenstreich No. 2.” In Nottebohm’s opinion it belongs
to the two others and like them had its origin between 1809 and June
1810. These were the three Tattoos which Beethoven sent to Peters,
who, however, did not publish them. The fourth March was the Military
March in D major composed in 1816.[104] It was first published in
1827, after Beethoven’s death, in an arrangement for pianoforte, by
Cappi and Czerny; a four-hand arrangement followed soon after and it
was given to the world in its original shape in the Complete Edition.
It was composed at the personal request of F. X. Embel, “Magisterial
Councillor and Lieut.-Colonel of the Civil Artillery,” who probably
preferred his request in 1815, a sketch for it appearing in a book
used in 1815-1816.--The data concerning these old works are given here
because Beethoven brought them out of his portfolio and offered them to
the publishers in this year.

The Bagatelles, Op. 126, belong to this period, though their completion
fell later. Taking up earlier sketches probably, Beethoven worked on
them after the Ninth Symphony was practically complete in his mind and
the sketchbooks--at the close of 1823 at the earliest. It is likely
that they were not finished until the middle of 1824. Nottebohm had
subjected them to a minute study which leads him to the conclusion that
the pieces were conceived as a homogeneous series, the numbers being
linked together by key-relationship. On the margin of a sketch for the
first one Beethoven wrote “Cycle of Trifles” (“Kleinigkeiten”), which
fact, their separation from each other (all but the first two) by the
uniform distance of a major third, taken in connection with their unity
of style, establishes a cyclical bond. When he offered them to Schott
in 1824 he remarked that they were probably the best things of the
kind which he had ever written. They were among the compositions which
had been pledged to his brother, in whose interest he offered them to
Schott. They were published by that firm, probably in the early part of
1825.

In 1828 Diabelli and Co. published a “Rondo a Capriccio” in G which
had been purchased at the auction sale of Beethoven’s effects after
his death. It bore on its title-page the inscription: “Die Wuth über
den Verlornen Groschen, ausgetobt in einer Caprice” (“Rage at the
loss of a groat stormed out in a Caprice”). Nothing is known of its
origin. In the catalogue of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, Czerny
noted it as belonging to Beethoven’s youthful period; which may be
true of its theme, but can not be of its treatment. Among the sketches
and drafts for the Bagatelles is a sketch for an arch and mischievous
piece evidently intended for strings,[105] and a two-part canon on the
words “Te solo adoro” from Metastasio’s “Betulia liberata,” which, as
transcribed by Nottebohm, has been printed in the Complete Edition.

FOOTNOTES:

[68] In a Conversation Book of 1820 we read this remark by Beethoven:
“What I think of confession may be deduced from the fact that I myself
led Karl to the Abbot of St. Michael for confession. But the abbot
declared that as long as he had to visit his mother, confession would
be of no avail.”

[69] In Vol. IV of the German edition of this biography, Dr. Deiters
presents a long and extremely interesting descriptive and critical
analysis of the mass from the point of view held by a devout
Roman Catholic churchman; wherefore, in spite of his enthusiastic
appreciation of the music, he is obliged to point out its departure
from some of the dogmas of the church, as well as the rubrics which the
composers had long disregarded. All this is, however, far outside the
scope of this biography as originally conceived by Thayer and to which
the editor has sought to bring it back in this English edition.

[70] These pieces, we learn later, were to be an offertory, a graduale
and a _Tantum ergo_.

[71] Beethoven’s mind reverts to the choral movement of the Ninth
Symphony which is occupying him.

[72] Were it not for the very general confusion which still exists
touching musical terms, it might be set down as a bit singular that
neither Beethoven nor Schindler seems to have known that the French
equivalent of “oratorio” is “oratorio,” and nothing else. The letter,
however, reads: _elle se prète de même a etre executée en Oratoire_. In
France an _oratoire_ is still an oratory, a room for prayer.

[73] The blanks were filled according to the formula.

[74] “Papageno” was the name applied to Schindler in his notes when
Beethoven wished to enjoin silence on his factotum; the allusion, of
course, being to the lip-locked bird-catcher in Mozart’s “Magic Flute.”

[75] If this note refers to the Mass, Schindler’s date must be a year
too late.

[76] In view of what will have to be said later about the controversy
which raged for years after Beethoven’s death about the financial
dealings between Prince Galitzin and Beethoven, it was thought best to
establish at this time the fact that Galitzin subscribed for the Mass
and paid the fee in the manner which has been set forth.

[77] The letter is incorrectly dated July 1, by Kalischer. Thayer’s
transcript and also one made by Dr. Kopfermann of the Royal Library at
Berlin for Dr. Deiters give June as the month.

[78] Beethoven had a number of nicknames for Schindler besides
_Papageno_ with its various qualifications. One of these was
_Lumpenkerl_; another _Hauptlumpenkerl_--Ragamuffin and Chief
Ragamuffin. In this instance Schindler is a “Samothracian ragamuffin”
and Schindler in a gloss tells us that the allusion was to the ancient
ceremonies of Samothrace, Schindler being thus designated as one
initiated into the mysteries of Beethoven’s affairs and purposes. The
injunction of silence was understood, of course. Count Brunswick, Count
Lichnowsky and Zmeskall were also initiates. Wocher, to whom Beethoven
sends his compliments, was Prince Esterhazy’s courier. Beethoven’s
second thoughts seem frequently to have been bestowed on the trombones.
We have already seen how often this was the case in the alterations in
the Mass in D. An interesting illustration was found by the present
editor among Thayer’s papers. The biographer owned a sheet of four
pages containing, in Beethoven’s handwriting, the trombone parts of
the Trio in the Scherzo of the Ninth Symphony with instructions to the
copyist where they were to be introduced. As the trombones do not take
part in the first and third movements nor in the Scherzo outside of the
Trio, but are highly important in the choral Finale, it would seem as
if Beethoven had thought of the beautiful effect which they produce in
the Trio after he had decided that they were necessary in the Finale.

[79] In Hetzendorf, while the negotiations with the courts are pending,
Count Moritz Lichnowsky writes in a Conversation Book: “Can you not
sell the Mass to publishers next year, so that it may become publicly
useful?”

[80] “The Philharmonic Society of London,” by George Hogarth, London,
1862, page 31.

[81] _Sic._ Beethoven of course means the Embassy. The Overture was no
doubt that to “The Consecration of the House,” Op. 124.

[82] Bauer was in Beethoven’s company a short time before he went to
England, and the incident of the sending of the score of “Wellington’s
Victory, or the Battle of Vittoria” came up for conversation between
them. We read in a Conversation Book, in Bauer’s hand: “I am of the
opinion that the King had it performed, but perhaps nobody reminded him
that on that account he ought to answer. I will carry a letter to the
King and direct it in a channel which will insure its delivery, since I
cannot hand it over in person.” The story of King George’s action, or
want of action, has been told in earlier pages of this work. From the
opening phrase of the address to the King it is fair to surmise that it
was to follow an invitation to subscribe for the Mass in D, and from
the letter to Ries that Beethoven subsequently decided to strike the
King of England from his list.

[83] In his letter to Zelter, Beethoven says that one of the numbers of
the Mass was without accompaniment. There being no _a cappella_ setting
of any section of the missal text in the Mass in D, it is likely that
Beethoven here, too, had the three additional pieces in mind. For this
speculation, however, as well as the hypothesis that the settings
originally contemplated for the “second” mass in C-sharp minor were
transferred to the scheme of the _Missa Solemnis_, the present editor
is alone responsible. In a Conversation Book of 1823 an unidentified
friend answers several questions about the hymn “Tantum ergo” and its
introduction in the service.

[84] Schindler bases his statements on alleged testimony of the
Archduke’s secretary Baumeister, but there is no word of reproval in
any of the letters of the two men which have been found.

[85] Sporchil’s drama bore the title “The Apotheosis in the Temple of
Jupiter Ammon.” What it had to do with the new operatic project is not
plain to this editor, for it was but a new text to be used to the music
of “The Ruins of Athens.” Beethoven once described “The Ruins” as “a
little opera” and his abiding and continued interest in it is disclosed
by the fact that after he got into touch with Grillparzer he discussed
the possibility of its revival with that poet.

[86] Grillparzer’s “Werke,” Vol. XVI, p. 228 _et seq._

[87] Thayer saw Grillparzer on July 4, 1860, and got from him a
confirmation of both incidents here narrated.

[88] The concluding paragraph of the letter betrays his growing
antipathy towards Schindler: “Afternoons you will find me in the
coffee-house opposite the ‘Goldene Birne.’ If you want to come, please
come alone. This importunate appendix of a Schindler, as you must
have noticed in Hetzendorf, has long been extremely objectionable to
me--_otium est citium_.”

[89] Thayer copies the entry found in the Conversation Book, but doubts
if the handwriting is that of Liszt _fils_. It is as follows: “I have
often expressed the wish to Herr von Schindler to make your high
acquaintance and am rejoiced to be able now to do so. As I shall give a
concert on Sunday the 13th I most humbly beg you to give me your high
presence.” The courtly language suggests the thought that the father
may have written the words for the boy.

[90] “Beethoven, Liszt und Wagner,” p. 199.

[91] In view of the fact that Beethoven would not have been able to
hear a note of the music had he been present and that, unless deeply
moved, he would not have made a public exhibition of his feelings,
and that even Schindler does not seem to have heard of the story of
the kiss, it is very likely, in the opinion of the present editor,
that the whole story is a canard invented for advertising purposes.
Thayer’s note on the copy which he made of the conversation at the
time of the presentation of the lad is: “B. does not appear to have
attended the concert, as some one reports to him that he ‘improvised on
a Hungarian-German theme.’” But there are several versions of the story
(see Frimmel, “Bausteine, etc.,” p 91) and Beethoven may at another
time have kissed the boy.

[92] Nohl is mistaken in saying that the canon was written in
Schloesser’s album. It is printed in the B. and H. “Ges. Ausg.,” Series
XXIII, No. 256.

[93] A _Schusterfleck_, that is a cobble, or cobbler’s patch, like
_Vetter Michel_ and _Rosalia_ in the musical terminology of Germany, is
a tune largely made up of repetitions on different degrees of the scale
of a single figure or motive.

[94] See the conversation, Vol. I, p. 321.

[95] Here are a few extracts from a letter written to Beethoven on July
3, 1823: “As I have been visiting him (Johann) three to four times a
day ever since he took to his bed, and have entertained him by the
hour, I have had an opportunity carefully to observe these two persons;
hence I can assure you on my honor that, despite your venerable name,
they deserve to be shut up, the old one in prison, the young one in
the house of correction.... This illness came opportunely for both of
them, to enable them to go their ways without trammel. These beasts
would have let him rot if others had not taken pity on him. He might
have died a hundred times without the one in the Prater or at Nussdorf
the other at the baker’s deigning to give him a look.... He often wept
over the conduct of his family and once he gave way completely to his
grief and begged me to let you know how he is being treated so that you
might come and give the two the beating they deserve.... It is most
unnatural and more than barbarous if that woman, while her husband is
lying ill, introduces her lover into his room, prinks herself like a
sleigh-horse in his presence and then goes driving with him, leaving
the sick husband languishing at home. She did this very often. Your
brother himself called my attention to it, and is a fool for tolerating
it so long.”

[96] Meaning Johann’s wife and step-daughter. Very incomprehensibly
Kalischer thinks the _Lump_ was Schindler!

[97] Schindler quotes Beethoven as remarking of “Euryanthe” that it was
“an accumulation of diminished seventh-chords--all little backdoors!”

[98] The Quartet which Benedict heard was that in E-flat major, Op.
127, which had its performance on March 6, 1825, the year in which
Benedict left Vienna with Barbaja. His letter to Thayer, therefore,
carries us far beyond the period now under discussion. The conversation
about the libretto of “Euryanthe” is said by Max Maria von Weber to
have taken place at the dinner in Baden; but Benedict’s is the likelier
story.

[99] It was performed for the first time at a concert of the
Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde on April 4, 1824, but it had been
completed a long time before.

[100] “Zweit. Beeth.,” p. 540 _et seq._

[101] Czerny wrote in the catalogue of the Gesellschaft der
Musikfreunde concerning this song, the “Opferlied” and “Der Kuss,”
“sketched at a very early period.” The note cannot be considered
seriously, as there is nothing to show that he had any information on
the subject.

[102] See list of compositions in the chapter of this work devoted to
1809.

[103] B. and H., Series XXV, Nos. 120 and 287.

[104] See _ante_.

[105] Nottebohm’s “Zweit. Beeth.,” p. 208.

Chapter V

The Symphony in D Minor--Its Technical History--Schiller’s “Ode to
Joy”--An Address to Beethoven--The Concerts of 1824--Laborious and
Protracted Preparations--Production of the Symphony and Mass in
D--Financial Failure--Negotiations with Publishers Resumed.

The Symphony in D minor, familiarly known the world over as the
“Ninth,” and also as the “Choral” Symphony in England and America,
was completed in February, 1824. The conclusion of the work upon it,
Schindler says, had a cheering effect upon Beethoven’s spirits. He
no longer grudged himself occasional recreation and was again seen
strolling through the streets of Vienna, gazing into the shop-windows
through eyeglasses which dangled at the end of a black ribbon, and,
after a long interregnum, greeting friends and acquaintances as they
passed. The history of the work is far more interesting than that of
any of his compositions, with the possible exception of the Mass in
D. Nottebohm has painstakingly extracted from the sketchbooks all the
evidence which they afford, touching the origin and development of the
work, and presented it in a chapter of his “Zweite Beethoveniana”;[106]
and his conclusions have been adopted in the presentation of facts
which follow.

[Sidenote: GROWTH OF THE CHORAL SYMPHONY]

Thoughts of a symphony to succeed the Symphonies in A and F major (Nos.
7 and 8), were in the composer’s mind while he was making sketches for
those two works in 1812; but the memoranda there found tell us only
in what key the new symphony was to be; they are mere verbal notes:
“2nd Sinfonie, D minor” and “Sinfonie in D minor--3rd Sinfonie.” A
fugue-theme, identical, so far as the first three measures go, with
that of the Scherzo of the Ninth Symphony, presented itself to him
and was imprisoned in his note-book in 1815, being recorded among the
sketches for the Sonata for Pianoforte and Violoncello in D, Op. 102,
No. 2.[107] There is another sketch with a note[108] to show that
Beethoven was thinking of a new symphony at the time; but the sketch
cannot be associated with the Ninth Symphony, the composition of which
really began when the beginning of the first movement was sketched. Of
this fragments are found on loose leaves belonging to the year 1817.
By the end of that year and the beginning of 1818 (presumably from
September to May) extended sketches of the movement were made. The
principal subject is definitively fixed, but the subsidiary material
is still missing. The fugue-theme of 1817 is assigned to the third
movement. There is no suggestion of the use of Schiller’s “Ode to Joy,”
but a plain intimation of an instrumental finale. In 1818 a plan is
outlined for the introduction of voices into the slow movement of a
symphony which is to follow the “Sinfonie in D.” It is as follows:

_Adagio Cantique._

Pious song in a symphony in the ancient modes--Lord God we praise
Thee--alleluia--either alone or as introduction to a fugue. The
whole 2nd sinfonie might be characterized in this manner in which
case the vocal parts would enter in the last movement or already
in the Adagio. The violins, etc., of the orchestra to be increased
tenfold in the last movement. Or the Adagio might be repeated in
some manner in the last movement, in which case the vocal parts
would enter gradually--in the text of the Adagio Greek myth,
_Cantique Ecclesiastique_--in the Allegro feast of Bachus [_sic_].

It will be recalled that in 1822 Beethoven told Rochlitz that he had
two symphonies in his mind which were to differ from each other. One
difference at least is indicated here by the purpose to use voices in
a movement to be written in the old modes. His well-known love for
classic subjects, no doubt, prompted the thought of the “pious orgies”
of a Pagan festival. Schiller’s hymn is still absent from his mind.
These sketches were all sidewise excursions undertaken while Beethoven
was chiefly occupied with the composition of the Pianoforte Sonata, Op.
106. What progress, if any, was made with the Symphony during the next
four years can not well be determined. The work was interrupted by
the composition of other works, notably the Mass in D, the last three
Pianoforte Sonatas and the overture and chorus for “The Consecration of
the House.” It was not until the Mass and the Josephstadt Theatre music
were finished in the sketches that he gave his attention largely to the
Symphony. In the sketches of 1822, there are evidences of considerable
progress on the first movement, little if any on the Scherzo (designed
to take third place in the scheme of movements), the fugue-themes of
1815 and 1817 appearing in them almost unchanged. There is no hint as
yet of the slow movement, but among the sketches appears the beginning
of the melody of the “Ode to Joy” with the underlying words, assigned
as a Finale. The thought of using the ode for a concluding movement had
presented itself, but only tentatively, not as a fixed determination.
Following this sketch, but of another date (to judge by the handwriting
and the contents), comes a memorandum indicating that the symphony in
mind was to consist of four movements--the first (no doubt, though it
is not mentioned) being the present first, the second in 2-4 time, the
third (presumably) in 6-8, while the fourth was to be built on the
fugal theme of 1817 and to be “well fugued.” The next recognizable
sketch is for a Presto in 2-4 designated as a second movement and this
is followed by the beginning of the first movement preceded by four
measures in triple time marked “_Alla Autrichien_.” A third sketch is
marked as belonging to a “_Sinfonie allemand_.” It is a new melody to
the words beginning Schiller’s ode to be used in a chorus; and again
the accompanying memorandum reads: “_Sinfonie allemand_,” but now with
this addition: “either with variations after which the chorus _Freude
schöner Götterfunken Tochter aus Elysium_ enters or without variations.
End of the Sinfonie with Turkish music and vocal chorus.” It is
possible that the melody had an earlier origin than that which appears
first in the sketches and was eventually used. The last relevant sketch
in the book of 1822 is a sort of thematic index to the symphony as it
now lay planned in Beethoven’s purpose:

[Illustration]

The second movement was to be a fugued Scherzo with the theme of 1815,
the fourth the Presto in 2-4 time which first appeared in this year,
the fifth the “Ode to Joy.” In the midst of these sketches appears
the significant remark: “Or perhaps instead of a new symphony, a new
overture on _Bach_, well fugued with 3----.”[109]

[Sidenote: TWO SYMPHONIES IN CONTEMPLATION]

The conclusions to be drawn from the sketches thus far are that, as
was the case in 1812 when the Seventh and Eighth Symphonies were
brought forth as a pair, Beethoven was again contemplating the almost
simultaneous production of two symphonies. He did not adhere to the
project long, so far as we can know from the written records, and
the remark about the substitution of an overture on B-a-c-h probably
marks the time when he began seriously to consider the advisability
of abandoning what would then have been the Tenth Symphony. With the
exception of a portion of the first movement, the Ninth Symphony was
still in a chaotic state. Taken in connection with negotiations which
had been concluded with the Philharmonic Society of London, it may be
assumed, however, that the present Symphony in D minor was associated
in Beethoven’s mind with the English commission, and that the second,
which he had thoughts of abandoning in favor of the overture, was to
have been a “Sinfonie allemand.” For a time, at least, Beethoven is
not likely to have contemplated a choral movement with German words in
connection with the symphony for the London Philharmonic Society: this
was to have an instrumental finale. The linguistic objection would be
invalid in the case of the German symphony, however, and to this was
now assigned the contemplated setting of Schiller’s poem.

Work now proceeded with little interruption (except that occasioned
by the composition of the Variations, Op. 120), and most of the first
half of 1823 was devoted to the first movement, which was nearly
complete in sketch-form before anything of the other movements appeared
beyond the themes which have already been cited. When the foundation
of the work is firmly laid we have the familiar phenomenon of work
upon two or three movements simultaneously. In a general way it may
be asserted that the year 1823 saw the birth of the Symphony, though
work was carried over into 1824. The second movement was complete in
the sketches before the third--this was about August; the third before
the fourth--about the middle of October. The second theme of the slow
movement was perfected before the sketches for the first movement were
finished. In a Conversation Book used in the fall of the year 1823
the nephew writes: “I am glad that you have brought in the beautiful
andante.” The principal theme of the movement appears to have been
conceived between May and July, 1823, but it had to submit to much
alteration before it acquired the lovely contours which we now admire.
This was the case, too, with the simple folksong-like tune of the
Finale.

[Sidenote: INTRODUCING THE ODE TO JOY]

Sketches for the Finale show that Beethoven had made considerable
progress with the setting of Schiller’s ode before he decided to
incorporate it with the Symphony. In June or July, 1823, he wrote down
a melody in D minor which he designated “_Finale instromentale_,” and
which, transposed into another key and slightly altered, was eventually
used in the finale of the Quartet in A minor, Op. 132. That it was
intended for the Finale of the symphony is proved by the fact that it
is surrounded with sketches for the Symphony in D minor and Beethoven
recurred to it twice before the end of the year; there was no thought
of the quartet at the time.

When he began work on the Finale, Beethoven took up the choral
part with the instrumental variations first and then attacked the
instrumental introduction with the recitatives. The present “Joy”
melody, as noted in the fall of 1822, was preceded by a different one
conceived later, if the sketches are taken as a guide. After adoption
the tune, especially its second period, underwent many transformations
before its definitive form was established. Among the musical sketches
occur several verbal memoranda containing hints which were carried out
in part, for instance: “Turkish music in _Wer das nie gekonnt stehle_”;
in sketches for the _Allegro alla marcia_: “Turkish music--first
_pianissimo_--a few sounds _pianissimo_--a few rests--then the full
strength”; a third: “On _Welt Sternenzelt forte_ trombone blasts”; a
fourth (in studies for the final chorus): “the height of the voices
to be more by instruments” (which may be interpreted to mean that
Beethoven realized that he was carrying the voices into dangerous
altitudes and intended to give them instrumental support). Other
sketches indicate that Beethoven intended for a considerable time to
write an instrumental introduction with new themes for the Finale. For
this prelude there are a number of sketches of different kinds, some
of them conceived while sketches for the first movement were still in
hand. Before July, 1823, there are no hints of a combined vocal and
instrumental bridge from the Adagio to the setting of the “Ode to Joy.”
After that month there are evidences that he had conceived the idea
of introducing the “Joy” melody played upon wind-instruments with a
prelude in the recitative style, a reminiscence of the first movement
and premonitory suggestions of the fundamental melody. This was the
first step towards the eventual shape of the finale. The lacking
element was the verbal link which should connect the instrumental
movements with the choral conclusion. The sketches bear out Schindler’s
remark: “When he reached the development of the fourth movement there
began a struggle such as is seldom seen. The object was to find a
proper manner of introducing Schiller’s ode. One day entering the
room he exclaimed ‘I have it! I have it!’ With that he showed me the
sketchbook bearing the words, ‘Let us sing the song of the immortal
Schiller _Freude_.’”

By grouping a number of sketches it is now possible to make a graphic
representation of the ideas which passed through Beethoven’s mind
while seeking a way to bridge the chasm between instrumental and vocal
utterance by means of the formula of recitative. The sketches are in
parts illegible, in parts so obscure that Nottebohm and Deiters differ
in their readings; regard has been had for both in the following
version: Over a portion of an instrumental recitative (_a_) occur the
words: “_Nein diese ... erinnern an unsere Verzweifl._” (No, these ...
remind (us) of our despair); other sketches follow in the order here
indicated:

[Illustration:(a)]

[Illustration:

Heute ist ein feierlicher Tag
(To-day is a solemn day)

meine Fru (Freunde?) dieser sei gefeiert
my fri (friends?) let it be celebrated

durch mit Gesang und [Tanz? Scherz?]
with song and [Dance? Play?]
]

[Illustration]

[Illustration:

O nein dieses nicht etwas
O no not this something

ist es was ich fordere

anderes gefällig

sondern nur etwas heiterer
but only a little merrier

auch dieses nicht ist nur Possen
or (“besser”)
etwas schöneres und bessers
nor this either it is but sport
(or no better)

auch dieses es ist zu zärtl zärtl
(nor this it is too tender tender)

etwas aufgewecktes[?] muss man suchen
(for something animated we must seek)

ich werde sehn dass ich selbst euch etwas
(I shall see to it that I myself intone something

vorsinge alsdann stimmt nur nach
then do you sing after me)

Dieses ist es Ha es ist nun gefunden Ich
This it is Ha now it is found I

selbst werde vorsingen Freude schöner
myself will intone it

Ha dieses ist es Es ist nun gefunden
Ha this it is it now is discovered

Freu- - -
]

[Illustration: meilleur]

Later comes the memorandum which Beethoven showed Schindler (“_I asst
uns das Lied des unsterblichen Schillers singen, Freude, etc._”) and
then:

[Illustration:

_Bass_ nicht diese Töne fröhlichere
_Voce_ Freude! Freude
(“not these tones, more joyful ones”)
]

The entire Symphony was finished in sketch-form at the end of 1823 and
written out in score in February, 1824. Omitting from consideration the
theme of the second movement, noted in 1815 and again in 1817 (probably
with an entirely different purpose in mind), the time which elapsed
between the beginning of the first movement (1817-1818) and the time of
completion was about six and a half years. Within this period, however,
there were extended interruptions caused by other works. Serious and
continuous labor on the Symphony was not taken up until after the
completion of the _Missa solemnis_; it began in 1822, occupied the
greater part of 1823 and ended in the early part of 1824. Beethoven,
therefore, worked on the Symphony a little more than a year.

[Sidenote: INSTRUMENTAL AND VOCAL PARTS UNITED]

Those who cherish the fantastic notion that the Symphony was conceived
_ab initio_ as a celebration of joy, and therefore feel obliged to go
back to Beethoven’s first design to compose music for Schiller’s ode,
have a large territory for the play of their fancy. Beethoven formed
the plan of setting the ode while still living in Bonn in 1793. It
is heard of again in a sketchbook of 1798, where there is a melodic
phrase adapted to the words, “Muss ein lieber Vater wohnen.” Amongst
sketches for the Seventh and Eighth Symphonies (say in 1811) there
crops up a melody for the beginning of the hymn, and possibly a little
later (1812) a more extended sketch amongst material used in the
Overture, Op. 115, into which he appears at one time to have thought
of introducing portions of it. All these sketches, of course, preceded
the melody of 1812, conceived for use in a “_Sinfonie allemand_.”
When Beethoven first took up the ode for setting it was to become a
“durchkomponirtes Lied,” i. e., each stanza was to have an illustrative
setting; when he planned to incorporate it in an overture he proposed
to use only selected portions of the poem, for he accompanies the
melodic sketch with the note: “Disjointed fragments like Princes
are beggars, etc., not the whole”; and a little later: “disjointed
fragments from Schiller’s _Freude_ connected into a whole.”[110]

The questions which have been raised by the choral finale are many
and have occupied the minds of musicians, professional and amateur,
ever since the great symphony was first given to the world. In 1852
Carl Czerny told Otto Jahn that Beethoven had thought, after the
performance, of composing a new finale without vocal parts for the
work. Schindler[111] saw the note in Jahn’s papers and wrote in the
margin: “That is not true”; but it must be remembered that there was a
cessation of the great intimacy between Beethoven and Schindler which
began not long after the Symphony had been produced, and lasted almost
till Beethoven was on his deathbed. Schindler can not have been present
at all of the meetings between Beethoven and his friends at which the
Symphony was discussed. Nevertheless he is upheld, in a measure, by the
fact (to which Nottebohm directed attention) that Beethoven, if he made
the remark, either did not mean it to be taken seriously or afterwards
changed his mind; for after keeping the manuscript in his hands six
months he sent it to the publisher as we have it. Seyfried, writing
in “Cäcilia” (Vol. IX, p. 236), faults Beethoven for not having taken
the advice of well-meaning friends and written a new finale as he did
for the Quartet in B-flat, Op. 130. Even if one of the well-meaning
friends was Seyfried himself, the statement has value as evidence that
Beethoven was not as convinced as Czerny’s story would have it appear
that the choral finale was a mistake. Sonnleithner, in a letter to the
editor of the “Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung” in 1864, confirmed
Jahn’s statement by saying that Czerny had repeatedly related as an
unimpeachable fact that some time after the first performance of the
Symphony Beethoven, in a circle of his most intimate friends, had
expressed himself positively to the effect that he perceived that he
had made a mistake (_Misgriff_) in the last movement and intended to
reject it and write an instrumental piece in its stead, for which he
already had an idea in his head. What that idea was the reader knows.
That Beethoven may have had scruples touching the appropriateness
of the choral finale, is comprehensible enough in view of the fact
that the original plan of the Symphony contemplated an instrumental
close and that Beethoven labored so hard to establish arbitrarily an
organic union between the ode and the first three movements; but it is
not likely that he gave long thought to the project of writing a new
finale. He had witnessed the extraordinary demonstration of delight
with which the whole work had been received and he may have found it
as easy as some of his commentators to believe that his device for
presenting the choral finale as the logical and poetically just outcome
of the preceding movements had been successful despite its obvious
artificiality.

[Sidenote: PREPARING FOR THE FIRST PERFORMANCE]

For the chief facts in the story of the first performance of the D
minor Symphony in Vienna we are largely dependent on Schindler, who
was not only a witness of it but also an active agent. Beethoven was
thoroughly out of sympathy with the musical taste of Vienna, which had
been diverted from German ideals by the superficial charm of Rossini’s
melodies. He wanted much to produce his symphony, but despaired of
receiving adequate support or recognition from his home public. His
friends offered him encouragement, but his fear and suspicion that
his music was no longer understood by the Viennese and he no longer
admired, had grown into a deep-rooted conviction. The project of a
concert at which the Mass in D should be performed had been mooted
months before. One day Sontag visited him and asked, “When are you
going to give your concert?” We have a record of her speeches only;
what Beethoven said must be supplied from the reader’s fancy. It is
plain enough that instead of answering the question he expressed a
doubt as to a successful financial outcome. “You give the concert,”
said the singer, “and I will guarantee that the house will be full.”
Still a moody suspicion, which the lady thinks it her right to rebuke:
“You have too little confidence in yourself. Has not the homage of the
whole world given you a little more pride? Who speaks of opposition?
Will you not learn to believe that everybody is longing to worship
you again in new works? O obstinacy!” This was in January. Beethoven
had inquired of Count Brühl in Berlin whether or not a performance of
the new Mass and Symphony might be given in that city, and Brühl had
favored the plan. When news of this fact became known in Vienna, a
number of Beethoven’s friends addressed him in the following memorial:

[Sidenote: AN ADDRESS TO THE COMPOSER]

To Herrn Ludwig van Beethoven.

Out of the wide circle of reverent admirers surrounding your genius
in this your second native city, there approach you to-day a small
number of the disciples and lovers of art to give expression to
long-felt wishes, timidly to prefer a long-suppressed request.

But as the number of spokesmen bears but a small proportion to the
many who joyfully acknowledge your worth and what you have grown
to be to the present as well as the future, so the wishes and
requests are by no means restricted to the number of those who are
like-minded with themselves and who, in the name of all to whom
art and the realization of their ideals are something more than
means and objects of pastime, assert that their wish is also the
wish of an unnumbered multitude, their request is echoed loudly or
in silence by every one whose bosom is animated by a sense of the
divine in music.

It is the wish of those of our countrymen who reverence art to
which we desire more especially to give expression; for though
Beethoven’s name and creations belong to all contemporaneous
humanity and every country which opens a susceptible bosom to art,
it is Austria which is best entitled to claim him as her own. Among
her inhabitants appreciation for the great and immortal works which
Mozart and Haydn created for all time within the lap of their home
still lives, and they are conscious with joyous pride that the
sacred triad in which these names and yours glow as the symbol of
the highest within the spiritual realm of tones, sprang from the
soil of their fatherland. All the more painful must it have been
for you to feel that a foreign power has invaded this royal citadel
of the noblest, that above the mounds of the dead and around the
dwelling-place of the only survivor of the band, phantoms are
leading the dance who can boast of no kinship with the princely
spirits of those royal houses; that shallowness is abusing the name
and insignia of art, and unworthy dalliance with sacred things is
beclouding and dissipating appreciation for the pure and eternally
beautiful.

For this reason they feel a greater and livelier sense than
ever before that the great need of the present moment is a new
impulse directed by a powerful hand, a new advent of the ruler in
his domain. It is this need which leads them to you to-day, and
following are the petitions which they lay before you in behalf of
all to whom these wishes are dear, and in the name of native art.

Do not withhold longer from the popular enjoyment, do not keep
longer from the oppressed sense of that which is great and perfect,
a performance of the latest masterworks of your hand. We know that
a grand sacred composition has been associated with that first one
in which you have immortalized the emotions of a soul, penetrated
and transfigured by the power of faith and superterrestrial light.
We know that a new flower glows in the garland of your glorious,
still unequalled symphonies. For years, ever since the thunders
of the Victory at Vittoria ceased to reverberate, we have waited
and hoped to see you distribute new gifts from the fulness of your
riches to the circle of your friends. Do not longer disappoint the
general expectations! Heighten the effect of your newest creations
by the joy of becoming first acquainted with them through you!
Do not allow these, your latest offspring, some day to appear,
perhaps, as foreigners in their place of birth, introduced,
perhaps, by persons to whom you and your mind are strange! Appear
soon among your friends, your admirers, your venerators! This is
our nearest and first prayer.

Other claims on your genius have been made public. The desires
expressed and offers made to you more than a year ago by the
management of our Court Opera and the Society of Austrian Friends
of Music had too long been the unuttered wish of all admirers of
art, and your name stimulated the hopes and expectations of too
many not to obtain the quickest and widest publicity, not to awaken
the most general interest. Poetry has done her share in giving
support to these lovely hopes and wishes. Worthy material from the
hand of a valued poet waits to be charmed into life by your fancy.
Do not let that intimate call to so noble an aim be made in vain.
Do not delay longer to lead us back to those departed days when the
song of Polyhymnia moved powerfully and delighted the initiates in
art and the hearts of the multitude!

Need we tell you with what regret your retirement from public life
has filled us? Need we assure you that at a time when all glances
were hopefully turned towards you, all perceived with sorrow that
_the one_ man whom all of us are compelled to acknowledge as
foremost among living men in his domain, looked on in silence as
foreign art took possession of German soil, the seat of honor of
the German muse, while German works gave pleasure only by echoing
the favorite tunes of foreigners and, where the most excellent had
lived and labored, a second childhood of taste threatens to follow
the Golden Age of Art?

You alone are able to insure a decisive victory to the efforts of
the best amongst us. From you the native Art Society and the German
Opera expect new blossoms, rejuvenated life and a new sovereignty
of the true and beautiful over the dominion to which the prevalent
spirit of fashion wishes to subject even the eternal laws of art.
Bid us hope that the wishes of all who have listened to the sound
of your harmonies will soon be fulfilled! This is our most urgent
second prayer.

May the year which we have begun not come to an end without
rejoicing us with the fruits of our petition and may the coming
Spring when it witnesses the unfolding of one of our longed-for
gifts become a twofold blooming-time for us and all the world of
art!

Vienna, February, 1824.

This address was signed by thirty of Beethoven’s friends and admirers,
among them being Prince Lichnowsky, Count Dietrichstein, Count
Lichnowsky, Abbé Stadler, Count Palfy, Count Fries, Dr. Sonnleithner,
and the publishers Diabelli, Artaria, Leidesdorf and Steiner and Co.
The most active agent in securing signatures was Count Lichnowsky.
It was published in Bäuerle’s “Theater-Zeitung” and also in Kanne’s
journal. This publication, and gossip to the effect that he had
prompted both writing and printing, annoyed Beethoven greatly. He gave
vent to his rage in a remark which he himself wrote in a Conversation
Book: “Now that the thing has taken this turn I can no longer find
joy in it. The atrocity of attributing such an act to me sickens me
with the whole business and I am scarcely able to address even a few
words to men of such intellectual prominence. Not a single critic can
boast of having received a letter from me. I have never----” there
his outburst breaks off; he did not finish the sentence in writing.
Schindler tried to ease his mind! “Your fears are groundless,” he
wrote; “your honor has not been compromised--let that suffice you;
nobody will accuse you of having been directly concerned in it.” Court
Secretary von Felsburg and J. N. Bihler, a tutor in the imperial
household, waited upon Beethoven one afternoon to present the address,
and talk over its suggestions. Beethoven said he wanted to read it
when alone. Later Schindler went to him and found him with the letter
in his hand. He was manifestly moved by its expressions and handed it
to Schindler to read while he went to the window and gazed out for
quite a while. Then he returned to Schindler, said briefly: “It is
very beautiful!--it rejoices me greatly!” and when Schindler also had
expressed his delight added: “Let us go out for a walk.” During the
walk he remained sunk in thought.

[Sidenote: A CONSPIRACY OF FRIENDS]

The object had in view by the designers of the memorial was
accomplished;--Beethoven was lifted out of his despondent mood and
inspired with new determination. By March Schindler had been informed
that the concert would be given in Vienna. He lauded Beethoven’s
decision and begged him not to distress himself with vain imaginings
about the outcome--everything would go gloriously and everybody
would esteem it an honor to participate. Expressions of satisfaction
poured in on the composer from all quarters, and also offers of help.
Beethoven’s friends gathered together and discussed the details in the
liveliest fashion--the time, the place, the programme, the choir and
orchestra, who should sing the solos, the price of seats, the number
of rehearsals. The concert-season was drawing to a close and delay was
hazardous; but delay there was, for Beethoven was vacillating, full
of doubtings and suspicions, and there was a too great multiplicity
of counsellors. Schindler was kept extremely busy; Lichnowsky and
Schuppanzigh bestirred themselves mightily; Brother Johann came to
the fore with advice and suggestions, especially about the business
administration; Nephew Karl, much to Schindler’s dissatisfaction,
not only ran errands but volunteered his opinion on many topics. A
page from a Conversation Book will disclose how the consultations
with Beethoven were carried on--for Beethoven’s consent to every step
had to be obtained, which was a pity. In the following excerpt it is
Schuppanzigh who is speaking to the composer, whom he, as was his wont,
addresses in the third person--as was fitting to the dignity of “Mylord
Falstaff.”

How about the concert? It is getting late--Lent will not last much
longer. He ought to give three movements [the mass is meant, of
course].--Under no circumstances a piano piece. There are no piano
players here. He will need Buringer [Piringer] to provide the best
_dilettante_, Sonnleithner to look after the singers, and Plachetka
[Blahetka] for the announcements and bills--Young Sonnleithner has
all the amateur singers under his thumb. It would be a good idea
for him [Beethoven] to pay a visit to Duport _to talk to him once
more about me_.

The significance of the concluding remark will appear later. At another
time Karl is reporting progress:

Piringer has said that he would undertake the appointment of
the instrumentalists, Sonnleithner the chorus, Schuppanzigh the
orchestra, Blahetka the announcements, tickets, etc. So everything
is looked after. You can give two concerts.... When will you have
it announced? Schuppanzigh is coming to-morrow.... Blahetka offered
to stamp the tickets, etc., but I think that all such matters ought
to be [entrusted] to your brother. It would be safer.... Piringer
has enough to do with the choruses. Piringer is a very capable man
but not the man that Schuppanzigh is; in any event it would be
unjust to disregard S., as he has taken so much pains and spurred
on the others.

At first it was agreed that the place should be the
Theater-an-der-Wien. Count Palfy, who had signed the memorial, was
willing to provide the theatre and all the forces, vocal as well as
instrumental, for 1200 florins, let Beethoven have as many rehearsals
as he desired and fix the prices of admission. But a difficulty
presented itself at once. At the Theater-an-der-Wien Seyfried was
chapelmaster and Clement leader of the orchestra. Beethoven wanted
Umlauf to be general conductor of the concert and Schuppanzigh leader
of the orchestra. Count Palfy was willing to sacrifice Seyfried, but
not Clement--at least, he asked that if Clement was to be displaced it
be done with as little injury to his feelings as possible. He therefore
suggested that Beethoven write a letter of explanation to Clement,
which he felt sure would solve the difficulty. Meanwhile Schindler had
begun negotiations with Duport, director of the Kärnthnerthor Theatre.
Duport was favorably inclined towards the enterprise and also towards
Schuppanzigh; but troublesome questions of another kind were now
precipitated--questions about prices of admission, the solo singers
and the number of rehearsals. On all these points Beethoven was so
irresolute that the project seemed likely to fall by the wayside; in
which crisis the leading spirits thought themselves entitled to resort
to a stratagem to give stability to the wavering mind of Beethoven.
In at least one instance the Conversation Book record was given the
appearance of a formal journal of proceedings. It was now planned that
Lichnowsky, Schindler and Schuppanzigh should simultaneously call upon
Beethoven as if by accident, turn the conversation on the points on
which it was necessary for Beethoven to reach a decision and that his
utterances should then be put into writing and he be asked, half in
jest, half in earnest, to affix his signature to the document. The ruse
succeeded for the nonce, but the result would eventually have been
woeful had Beethoven been less irresolute. After the conspirators had
gone away Beethoven saw through the trick which had been played on him
and, scenting treachery as was his wont, decided off-hand to abandon
the concert. He issued his pronunciamento to the three friends in this
characteristic fashion:

To Count Moritz Lichnowsky. I despise treachery. Do not visit me
again. No concert.

To Herrn Schuppanzigh. Let him not visit me more. I shall give no
concert.

To Schindler. I request you not to come again until I send for you.
No concert.

The three friends refused to take umbrage at Beethoven’s rudeness; the
notes were not accompanied by a silken rope; they gave him time to get
over his wrath and suspicion and then went on with the preparations
for the concert. In the Conversation Book there appears a record of a
consultation which may fairly be set down as that of the meeting at
which Beethoven’s helpers employed their stratagem.[112] Schindler
opens a page formally thus:

Protocol of March 2.

Present:
Mr. L. van Beethoven, a _musikus_.
Mr. Count v. Lichnowsky, an amateur.
Mr. Schindler, a fiddler.
Not yet present to-day:
Mr. Schuppanzigh, a fiddler representing Mylord Fallstaff.

[Sidenote: LOOKING AFTER DETAILS]

At this consultation Schindler reports an offer from Palfy to furnish
the Theater-an-der-Wien, orchestra, lights, etc., _appertinentia_
for 1000 florins, provided a second or third concert be given. At a
moderate charge for admission (which would be necessary) he says the
receipts would be 4000 florins, which would yield a profit of 2000
florins at the first concert and about 3000 at the second, when there
would be no copying charges. The prices would not be so high as at the
Ridotto Room. If Duport were to charge only 300 florins, there would
still be a further charge of 300 florins for building the platform
and no end of vexation and labor. Palfy wanted only his expenses.
Would Beethoven authorize him (Schindler) and Lichnowsky to complete
arrangements with Palfy? He need not be paid, and it would be possible
to withdraw from the arrangement at any time. Haste was necessary,
for a supervisor must be appointed--Umlauf or somebody else--so that
rehearsals might begin. If Schuppanzigh were given too much to do and
anything went ill the conductor would lay the blame on insufficient
study. From the record of a subsequent consultation (in March) the
following excerpts are made:

_Lichnowsky_: It is right that the orchestra be doubled, but
superfluous to engage more than are necessary; after Schuppanzigh
and Umlauf know what is at their service at the Wiedener Theatre we
can tell what is needed.

_Schindler_: Lichnowsky says that a smaller orchestra is
more effective at the Theater-an-der-Wien than a large
one in the Ridotto Room. You need not take all at the
Theater-an-der-Wien--none at all if you do not need them,--that is
the arrangement with Palfy.

_Lichnowsky_: Unnecessary expenses must be avoided.

_Schindler_: You will not have to pay the forces at the
Theater-an-der-Wien at all--so that may be deducted. The days of
performance if agreeable to you would be the 22nd or 23rd or 24th
of this month.

_Lichnowsky_: You will make money, and more if you give a second
concert, when it will not be necessary that all the pieces be new;
you will have the same symphony and two other missal movements.

_Schindler_: The prices of admission will be considerably modified
at 2 florins for the parterre, 2 florins for the gallery and 15
florins for the seats.--You ought not to seek difficulties where
there are none; if the worst comes to the worst, everything will be
settled--The question is not whether there are more difficulties at
the theatre or the Ridotto Room--I shall see Schuppanzigh to-day
noon; but before then Lichnowsky will go to Palfy tentatively to
report your decision.

The conversation continued (probably the next day):

_Schindler_: Schuppanzigh is greatly pleased that you have come
to an understanding with Palfy. He will make use of the entire
orchestra of the theatre. He is coming to the Ridotto Room to-day,
as he hopes to find you there. The choruses at the theatre are
also good; Schuppanzigh says that the women’s choir of the society
is not of the best because they are all young girls; which is
true.--The Baron took the tempo just once again as fast, therefore
your advice was highly important; not until the second time did it
go well.--Besides, the women’s choir is thoroughly bad. Falstaff
was also convinced and is now glad that nothing but the men’s choir
will be needed. The solo voices are much too weak for the room and
too--young.--The soprano singer is sixteen years old at the most.
Palfy is sending you word that he will send you his offer, which
you know, and the promise which he made, to-morrow in writing.--You
are choosing the lesser of two evils.--Twenty to twenty-four
for each part in the chorus are already on hand.--Of the twelve
violins for each part we to-day selected the six best, who are to
be arranged in rank and file.--The only wish that Palfy has, as
he admitted to Lichnowsky to-day, is that Klement be handled as
gently as possible so that his feelings may not be hurt. For this
reason we all request you to write a billet to Klement and tell
the truth as it is. But as there is no question but that he will
come to the second concert, I suggest that the direction be then
given to him.--Schuppanzigh is agreed to this. And as Piringer of
the Theater-an-der-Wien pretends that as a high R. I. official he
cannot take part, Klement might take first place among the second
violins at the first concert and Schuppanzigh at the second.--Palfy
does not at all want that you shall take Klement, but only that you
shall take the trouble to write him a billet and tell him about
the matter. He will certainly be agreeable.--He [Schuppanzigh] has
become much quieter and more _commode_ since he was in Russia--his
paunch is already beginning to embarrass him. Böhm will play first
violin, Piringer will not play at the An-der-Wien, which is all one
to Schuppanzigh.

[Sidenote: COMPOSITION OF THE PERFORMING FORCE]

But matters were not so easily arranged with Clement as Schindler had
imagined. He did not want to be deprived of the honor of playing at the
concert, the orchestra of the Theater-an-der-Wien sided with him and
declared that it would not play under Schuppanzigh. Schindler appealed
to Count Palfy, who knew that though you can lead a horse to water
you cannot make him drink. He said that he could command the men to
play under Schuppanzigh, but he did not want to be answerable for the
mischief which would result. Schindler advised Beethoven that if Palfy
stood by Clement the contract for the Kärnthnerthor Theatre be closed
with Duport. Up to late in April it was as good as settled that the
concert would be given at the Theater-an-der-Wien, though Beethoven’s
fatal indecision left the point uncertain. With negotiations pending
with both theatres the Ridotto Room came up for consideration, and
finally (it would seem as a consequence of advice by the Steiner
firm), also a fourth _locale_. This was the Landständischer Saal, a
small room in which the _Concerts Spirituels_ took place. Lichnowsky,
when he heard that Beethoven was considering such a step, hurried to
him with representations that if the hall were taken there would be
trouble with Palfy and he himself humiliated and embarrassed, since he
had come to an agreement with the manager in his name. He as well as
Schindler was sorely tried by the new turn of affairs and represented
to Beethoven that the room was too small, holding only 500 persons, and
that the court would not go there. But Nephew Karl favored the hall
because its choice would avoid the difficulties (_Sauerei_) incident
to the selection of either of the theatres. Lichnowsky and Schindler
did not seek to hide their displeasure from Beethoven because of his
willingness to take the advice of others (meaning, no doubt, Brother
Johann, Nephew Karl and Steiner), in preference to theirs, but at
length circumstances compelled him to abandon all other plans and
agree to take the Kärnthnerthor Theatre. He considered the noon hour as
the time for the concert, but Johann told him that an evening concert
was worth 1500 florins more than one given in the daytime; he clung
to the Landständischer Saal, but Schindler told him that on the day
which had been fixed upon there was to be a concert at the Ridotto
Room in which Sontag, Unger and the Italian singers would take part.
“The girls” would therefore be unavailable for his concert and the
court would, of course, go to the fashionable place and affair. As
late as April 21, it was publicly announced that the concert would
be given in the Theater-an-der-Wien, but at length Beethoven made up
his mind, and Schindler was empowered to close with Duport for the
Kärnthnerthor Theatre. Palfy yielded to the composer’s wishes, but
regretfully, saying that he would rather lose 1000 florins than the
honor of having the concert in his house. It would seem as if it was
the cabal in the orchestra against Schuppanzigh which ended Beethoven’s
irresolution. Beethoven now decided to take the Court theatre for 400
florins, chorus and orchestra being included as well as the lighting,
with the privilege of a repetition on the same terms in seven or eight
days. In the letter which Beethoven sent to Duport, were named Sontag,
Unger and Preisinger (bass) as solo singers, Umlauf and Schuppanzigh
as leaders, the orchestra and chorus were to be augmented from the
amateur forces of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde. There were to be
24 violins, 10 violas, 12 contrabasses and violoncellos, and the number
of wind-instruments was to be doubled, for which reason room would have
to be provided for the orchestra on the stage. Duport was requested to
fix the date not later than May 3rd or 4th and was informed that the
reason why the agreement with Count Palfy had been cancelled was that
the Theater-an-der-Wien was lacking in capable solo singers and that
Palfy wanted Clement to lead the orchestra, whereas Beethoven had long
before selected Schuppanzigh for the post. With a change of date to May
7 this arrangement was formally confirmed.

But many details remained to be settled, the most vexatious to
Beethoven being the prices of admission. Beethoven wanted an advance
on the regular tariff. Duport appealed to the Minister of Police, but
permission to raise the prices was refused. In the selection of solo
singers Therese Grünbaum had been considered, but she was eventually
set aside in favor of Henrietta Sontag, for whom Beethoven had a
personal admiration (he could not know much, if anything, about her
voice and art). She and Unger, who had a sincere love for Beethoven’s
music, were the composer’s “pretty witches” and had been invited by
him to dinner. Jäger had been suggested for the tenor part, but Anton
Haitzinger was chosen because, in a spirit of professional courtesy,
Jäger refused to take a part away from a Kärnthnerthor singer. Forti
and Preisinger were rival candidates for the solo bass parts. The
latter was considered the more musical of the two and better fitted
for Beethoven’s music, and was therefore selected. He took part in
the rehearsals, and for him Beethoven made a change in the music of
the recitative in the Symphony (Schindler gives it in his biography);
but at the last the _tessitura_ of the part was found to be too high
for him and Preisinger had to withdraw. It was impossible under the
circumstances now to appeal to Forti, and the part was entrusted to
Seipelt of the company at the Theater-an-der-Wien.

It was originally intended that the programme should consist of the
new Overture (Op. 124), the Mass in D and the new Symphony; but
realizing that this would make the concert unduly long Beethoven first
decided to omit the _Gloria_ of the mass, and after the rehearsals
had already begun he curtailed the list still more by eliding the
_Sanctus_. The large amount of copying involved was done by a staff
of men some of whom worked, apparently, under the supervision of the
widow of Schlemmer, Beethoven’s favorite copyist who had died the year
before. The composer angrily rejected Haslinger’s suggestion that
the chorus parts be engraved, but consented to have them duplicated
by lithographic process. The church authorities were opposed to the
performance of missal music in a theatre and the censor therefore
withheld his approval of the programme. So, in April, at the suggestion
of Schindler, Beethoven wrote a letter to the censor, Sartorius, in
which he pleaded for his consent to the performance on the ground that
he was giving the concert by request, had involved himself in costs
by reason of the copying, there was no time in which to produce other
novelties, and if consent were refused he would be compelled to abandon
the concert and all his expenditures would have been in vain. The three
ecclesiastical pieces which were to be performed were to be listed on
the programme as hymns. The letter failed of its mission; not until an
appeal was made to Count Sedlnitzky, the Police President, through the
agency of Count Lichnowsky, was the performance sanctioned.

[Sidenote: THE COMPOSER AND HONORARY TITLES]

One further detail of the preparations, as disclosed by a discussion
in Beethoven’s ministerial cabinet, is too interesting to be omitted.
The time is come when bills must be posted in front of the theatre.
Schindler is the first speaker:

Master! Listen! I have something to say, so follow me: How shall
the placard be worded (it must be printed to-day); shall I put in
Member of the Royal Academy at Stockholm and Amsterdam? Tell me
briefly. What a tremendous title!!

_Schuppanzigh_: I am not in favor of it. Beethoven is dictator and
president of all the academies in the world and sensible people
will look upon this title as vanity on his part.

_Schindler_: My lord is not wrong. At any rate it will be made
public by the last notices in the newspapers. The name of
Beethoven shines brightest without affix of any kind and when most
unassuming; all the world knows who and what you are. It will do
your posterity no good.--Who knows what a later time will bring
forth.... I must go now to get the bill ready for to-morrow. It is
half-past 5.

This was, no doubt, another case in which it was thought judicious to
get Beethoven’s consent beyond equivocation. There is record of another
conversation on the subject. Schindler speaks again:

Well then, it shall appear on the bill to-morrow, Member of the
Royal Academies of Stockholm and Amsterdam. Nothing more; that
sounds best.--Then it ought to read of Arts and Sciences.--But when
one says Roy. Acad. the _epitheton_ Arts and Sciences is understood.

In neither of these consultations, which took place two days before
the concert, is there any indication that Beethoven objected to the
use of the title; on the contrary, he seems to have desired to make
it more explicit by the inclusion of the words “Arts and Sciences.”
But Schindler relates that when Bernard, in preparing an announcement
for the public press, added to Beethoven’s name: “Honorary Member of
the Academies of Arts and Sciences at Stockholm and Amsterdam and also
Honorary Citizen of the R. I. Capital and Residential City Vienna,”
he rebuked the editor severely, not wanting to have such “silly and
ridiculous playthings” figure in the announcement. As a matter of fact,
all titles were omitted in the affiches of the two concerts, though
Otto Jahn found one for the second meeting in the Fuchs Collection
which contained them. It would seem that after one had been thus
printed it was after all rejected by Beethoven.

The rehearsals were now in progress. Dirzka was making good headway
with the choruses and was satisfied; Schuppanzigh was holding
rehearsals for the strings in the rehearsal-room of the Ridotto;
the solo singers were studying under the supervision of Beethoven,
sometimes in his lodgings, Umlauf assisting. Accustomed to Rossini’s
music, the principal singers found it difficult to assimilate the
Beethovenian manner, especially as it is exemplified in the concluding
movement of the symphony. They pleaded with the composer for changes
which would lighten their labors, but he was adamant. Unger called
him a “tyrant over all the vocal organs” to his face, but when he
still refused to grant her petitions she turned to Sontag and said:
“Well, then we must go on torturing ourselves in the name of God!” The
choirmaster requested that the passage in the fugue of the _Credo_
where the sopranos enter on B-flat _in alt_ be altered, because none
of the singers could reach the note; but though Umlauf reinforced that
argument, a refusal was the only reply. In only one alteration did
Beethoven acquiesce;--he changed the concluding passage of the bass
recitative, because Preisinger could not sing the high F-sharp; but
Preisinger did not sing at all at the concert. The consequences of his
obduracy were not realized by Beethoven at the concert, for though he
stood among the performers and indicated the tempo at the beginning of
each movement he could not hear the music except with his mental ear.
The obvious thing happened;--the singers who could not reach the high
tones simply omitted them. Duport had allowed two full rehearsals.
There was to have been a third, but it was prevented by a rehearsal for
a ballet. At the final meeting on May 6, Beethoven was “dissolved in
devotion and emotion” at the performance of the _Kyrie_, and after the
Symphony stationed himself at the door and embraced all the amateurs
who had taken part.[113] The official announcement of the concert read
as follows:

GRAND
MUSICAL CONCERT
by
MR. L. VAN BEETHOVEN
which will take place
To-morrow, May 7, 1824
in the R. I. Court Theatre beside the Kärnthnerthor.

The musical pieces to be performed are the latest works of Mr.
Ludwig van Beethoven.

First: A Grand Overture.

Second: Three Grand Hymns with Solo and Chorus Voices.

Third: A Grand Symphony with Solo and Chorus Voices entering in the
finale on Schiller’s Ode to Joy.

The solos will be performed by the Demoiselles Sonntag and Unger
and the Messrs. Haizinger and Seipelt. Mr. Schuppanzigh has
undertaken the direction of the orchestra, Mr. Chapelmaster Umlauf
the direction of the whole and the Music Society the augmentation
of the chorus and orchestra as a favor.

Mr. Ludwig van Beethoven will himself participate in the general
direction.

Prices of admission as usual.

Beginning at 7 o’clock in the evening.

[Sidenote: INCIDENTS OF THE PERFORMANCE]

The overture was that to “The Consecration of the House.” Duport had
a hand in the drafting of the announcement and wanted to include in
it the statement that Beethoven would conduct with Umlauf. Schindler
in reporting the fact to Beethoven added: “I did not know what to
reply and so it was omitted this time. You _could_ surely conduct the
overture alone. It would put too severe a strain upon your ears and for
that reason I would not advise you to conduct the whole.”

The theatre was crowded in every part except the imperial box; that
was empty. Beethoven had gone in person, accompanied by Schindler, to
invite the Imperial Family, and some of its members promised to attend;
but the Emperor and Empress had left Vienna a few days before and
Archduke Rudolph, who had naturally displayed interest in the affair,
was in Olmütz. But we hear of several of Beethoven’s present and
former friends seated in various parts of the house;--poor, bedridden
Zmeskall was carried to his seat in a sedan chair. Some of the
foremost musicians of Vienna were in the band--Mayseder, Böhm, Jansa,
Linke, etc. The performance was far from perfect. There was lack of a
homogeneous power, a paucity of nuance, a poor distribution of lights
and shades. Nevertheless, strange as the music must have sounded to the
audience, the impression which it made was profound and the applause
which it elicited enthusiastic to a degree. At one point in the
Scherzo, presumably at the startling entry of the tympani at the _ritmo
di tre battute_, the listeners could scarcely restrain themselves, and
it seemed as if a repetition then and there would be insisted upon. To
this Beethoven, no doubt engrossed by the music which he was following
in his mind, was oblivious. Either after the Scherzo or at the end
of the Symphony,[114] while Beethoven was still gazing at his score,
Fräulein Unger, whose happiness can be imagined, plucked him by the
sleeve and directed his attention to the clapping hands and waving hats
and handkerchiefs. Then he turned to the audience and bowed.

After the concert Beethoven’s friends, as was natural, came together to
exchange comments and felicitate him. From Schindler Beethoven received
a report which is preserved in the Conversation Book. It gives us a
glimpse of his own joy and the composer’s happy pride in having been
more enthusiastically greeted than the court:

Never in my life did I hear such frenetic and yet cordial
applause. Once the second movement of the Symphony was completely
interrupted by applause--and there was a demand for a repetition.
The reception was more than imperial--for the people burst out
in a storm 4 times. At the last there were cries of Vivat!--The
wind-instruments did very bravely--not the slightest disturbance
could be heard.--When the parterre broke out in applauding cries
the 5th time the Police Commissioner yelled Silence!--The court
only 3 successive times but Beethoven 5 times.--My triumph is now
attained; for now I can speak from my heart. Yesterday I still
feared secretly that the Mass would be prohibited because I heard
that the Archbishop had protested against it. After all I was right
in at first not saying anything to the Police Commissioner. By God,
it would have happened!--He surely never has been in the Court
Theatre. Well, _Pax tecum_!

Joseph Hüttenbrenner went with Schindler when he escorted the composer
to his lodgings. At this point there appears to be something like a
flight of the imagination in Schindler’s narrative. Arrived at home
Schindler hands Beethoven the box-office report. He takes it, gives
it a glance and falls in a swoon. The two friends raise him from
the floor and carry him to a sofa, where he lies without uttering a
word until far into the night. Then they observe that he has fallen
asleep, and depart. Next morning Beethoven is found on the sofa,
still in his concert-clothes. Schindler should have taken a glance at
the Conversation Books before writing this dramatic story. There he
would have found a record of his own words which shows that he came
to Beethoven on the day after the concert and asked him to send his
nephew to meet him in the afternoon at the box-office of the theatre
where the accounts were to be settled. He did not know what the
receipts were even then, for he remarks to Beethoven, “In Paris and
London the concert would certainly have yielded from 12 to 15 thousand
florins; here it may be as many hundreds.” And then he goes on: “After
yesterday you must now too plainly see that you are trampling upon
your own interests by remaining longer within these walls. In short, I
have no words to express my feelings at the wrong which you are doing
yourself.... Have you recovered from yesterday’s exertions?”

[Sidenote: FRIENDS ACCUSED OF DISHONESTY]

The financial results of the concert fell far short of Beethoven’s
expectations. The gross receipts were 2200 florins in the depreciated
Vienna money, of which only 420 florins remained after paying the cost
of administration and copying; and against this pitiful sum some petty
expenses were still chargeable. Beethoven was not only disappointed; he
was chagrined and thrown into a fuming ill-humor. He invited Schindler,
Umlauf and Schuppanzigh to dine with him at the restaurant “Zum wilden
Mann” in the Prater. The composer came with his nephew; “his brow was
clouded, his words were cold, peevish, captious,” says Schindler. He
had ordered an “opulent” meal, but no sooner had the party sat down to
the table than the “explosion which was imminent” came. In plainest
terms he burst out with the charge that the management and Schindler
had cheated him. Umlauf and Schuppanzigh tried to convince him that
that was impossible, as every penny had passed through the hands of the
two theatre cashiers, whose accounts tallied, and that though it was
contrary to custom, his nephew had acted in behalf of his brother as
comptroller. Beethoven persisted in his accusation, saying that he had
his information from an entirely credible source. Thereupon Schindler
and Umlauf abruptly left the room. Schuppanzigh remained behind just
long enough to get a few stripes on his broad back and then joined
his companions in misery. Together they finished their meal at a
restaurant in the Leopoldstadt.[115] Schindler, after a disquisition
on Beethoven’s habit of estranging his friends by insulting them and
then winning them back by the frankness of his confessions and the
sincerity of his contrition, says that after the composer’s return
from Baden in November, he approached him in this winning mood, “and
the entire occurrence was at once drowned in the waters of Lethe.” But
Schindler was not only in error as to the time of the incident--he
says it was after the second concert--he also seems to have forgotten
that he received a letter which on its face shows that he had written
to Beethoven defending himself against the charges made. Beethoven’s
letter was as follows:

I did not accuse you of any wrongdoing in connection with the
concert; but unwisdom and arbitrary actions spoiled much. Besides
I have a certain fear lest some great misfortune shall some time
happen to me through you. Clogged drains often open suddenly, and
that day in the Prater I thought you were offensive in several
things. Moreover there are many times when I would rather try to
repay the services which you perform for me with a little gift than
with a _meal_, for I admit that I am often too greatly disturbed.
If you do not see a pleasant face you say at once: “Bad weather
again to-day”; for being commonplace yourself how can you help
misunderstanding that which is not commonplace?

In short I love my independence too much. There will be no lack
of opportunities to invite you, but it is impossible to do so
continually, inasmuch as thereby all my affairs are disarranged.

Duport has consented to next Tuesday for the concert. For the
Landständischen Saal, which I might have had for to-morrow, he
again refuses to let me have the singers. He has also again
referred me to the police; therefore please go there with the bill
and learn if there is any objection to the second time. I would
never have accepted the favors done me gratis and will not. As for
friendship that is a difficult thing in your case. In no event
would I like to entrust my welfare to you since you lack judgment
and act arbitrarily, and I learned some time ago to know you from a
side which is not to your credit; and so did others. I must confess
that the purity of my character does not permit me to recompense
mere favors with friendship, although I am ready willingly to serve
your welfare.

B----n.

[Sidenote: FINANCIAL FAILURE REPEATED]

A second concert had been contemplated from the outset, or at least
since the opening of negotiations with Palfy. Schindler says that
Duport offered to pay all expenses and guarantee 500 florins Convention
Coin (1200 florins Vienna Standard) with the understanding that the
profits should be divided equally between Beethoven and the exchequer
of the theatre. But he wanted a change made in the programme. To this
change, obviously designed as a concession to the popular taste,
Beethoven seems to have given his consent. The concert took place
on Sunday, May 23rd, at midday--half-past 12 o’clock. Of the missal
hymns only one, the _Kyrie_, was performed; between the overture and
it Beethoven’s trio, “Tremate, empj, tremate,” was sung by Madame
Dardanelli and Signori Donzelli and Botticelli. The original solo
singers sang in the _Kyrie_ and the Symphony, which numbers were
separated by Rossini’s “Di tanti palpiti” in a transposed key sung by
the tenor David “almost throughout in a falsetto voice.” Schindler says
that Sontag also sang her favorite _aria di bravura_ by Mercadante, but
of this number there is no mention on the _affiche_. The delightful
weather lured the people into the open air, the house was not half full
and there was, in consequence, a deficit of 800 florins. Nor was the
popular demonstration of enthusiasm over the music so great as at the
first concert, and Beethoven, who had not favored the repetition, was
so disheartened that he was with difficulty persuaded to accept the
500 florins which Duport had guaranteed to him. He was also vexed to
find his old trio announced as a novelty (it was composed more than
twenty years before and had been performed in 1814), and so was Tobias
Haslinger, who had bought but had not published it. Moreover, Haslinger
had been overlooked in the distribution of complimentary tickets.
Beethoven had to apologize to him for the oversight, which he protested
was due to an inadvertence, and also to explain that the announcement
of the trio as a new work was of Duport’s doing, not his.

FOOTNOTES:

[106] Page 157 _et seq._

[107] There are several stories touching the origin of the fugue-theme
of the Scherzo of the D minor symphony, which may be given for what
they are worth. Czerny says that the theme occurred to Beethoven while
listening to the twittering of sparrows in a garden. Holz told Jahn
that one evening Beethoven was seated in the forest at Schönbrunn and
in the gloaming fancied he saw all about him a multitude of gnomes
popping in and out of their hiding-places; and this stirred his fancy
to the invention of the theme. Another story has it that it flashed
into his mind with a sudden outbursting glitter of lights after he had
long been seated in the dark.

[108] “Sinfonie at the beginning only 4 voices, 2 viol. viola, basso,
amongst them forte with other voices and if possible bring in all the
other instruments one by one and gradually.”

[109] Nottebohm fills the hiatus with “Trombones? Subjects?”

[110] “Abgerissene Sätze wie Fürsten sind Bettler u. s. w.” The phrase
is probably a record of Beethoven’s imperfect recollection of the line
“_Bettler_ werden Fürstenbrüder,” which appeared in an early version
of Schiller’s poem where now we read “_Alle Menschen werden Brüder_.”
The thought lies near that it was the early form of the poem, when
it was still an “Ode to Freedom” (not “to Joy”), which first aroused
enthusiastic admiration for it in Beethoven’s mind. In a Conversation
Book of 1824 Bernard says to Beethoven: “In your text it reads,”
followed by the observation, “All this is due here to the direction
of the aristocracy”--which may or may not have connection with a
conversation in which politics was playing a part.

[111] So Thayer remarks.

[112] For this assumption the present editor is alone responsible.
Thayer, who says nothing on the subject, corrects Schindler’s date to
March 20, for no obvious reason.

[113] The statement about the _Kyrie_ was made by Holz to Jahn; that
about the Symphony, by Fuchs.

[114] The incident is variously related. Schindler and Fräulein Unger
(the latter of whom told it to George Grove in London in 1869) say
that it took place at the end of the concert. Thalberg, the pianist,
who was present, says that it was after the Scherzo. A note amongst
Thayer’s papers reads: “November 23, 1860. I saw Thalberg in Paris.
He told me as follows: He was present at Beethoven’s concert in the
Kärnthnerthor Theatre 1824. Beethoven was dressed in black dress-coat,
white neckerchief, and waistcoat, black satin small-clothes, black silk
stockings, shoes with buckles. He saw after the Scherzo of the 9th
symphony, how B. stood turning over the leaves of his score utterly
deaf to the immense applause, and Unger pulled him by the sleeve and
then pointed to the audience when he turned and bowed. Umlauf told the
choir and orchestra to pay no attention whatever to Beethoven’s beating
of the time but all to watch him. Conradin Kreutzer was at the P. F.”
Did Thalberg describe Beethoven’s dress correctly? Evidently not. In
a conversation just before the concert Schindler, who is to call for
Beethoven, tells him to make himself ready. “We will take everything
with us now; also take your green coat, which you can put on when you
conduct. The theatre will be dark and no one will notice it.... O,
great master, you do not own a black frock coat! The green one will
have to do; in a few days the black one will be ready.”

[115] It is more than likely that Beethoven’s “credible” informant was
his brother Johann. He was jealous of Schindler’s participation in the
composer’s business affairs and probably took advantage of a favorable
opportunity to strengthen Beethoven’s chronic suspicion and growing
distrust of what the composer himself looked upon as Schindler’s
officiousness. In the Conversation Book used at the meeting after the
concert, Karl tells his uncle: “Schindler knows from an ear-witness
that your brother said in the presence of several persons that he was
only waiting for the concert to be over before driving S. out of the
house.”

Chapter VI

Incidents and Labors of 1824--Bernard’s Oratorio--Visitors at
Baden--New Publishers--A Visitor from London--Beethoven’s Opinion
of his Predecessors--The Quartet in E-flat, Op. 127.

At the end of the chapter preceding the last, which recorded the doings
of the year 1823, Beethoven was left in his lodgings in the Ungargasse,
occupied with work upon the Ninth Symphony, which was approaching
completion, oppressed with anxiety concerning his health and worried
about his brother’s domestic affairs. As the story of his life is
resumed with the year 1824, there has been no serious change in his
physical condition, but complaints of ill health are frequent in his
communications with his friends. His eyes continue to trouble him till
late in March; Schindler cautions him not to rub them, as that might
increase the inflammation; Karl suggests buying a shade to protect them
from the glare of the light; and when Count Brunswick wants to take him
along with him to Hungary, Schindler advises him to take the trip, as
it might be beneficial for his eyes.

[Sidenote: KIND INTEREST IN KARL’S MOTHER]

For a moment we have a glimpse at the gentler side of the composer’s
nature in a letter which he sends when the year is about a week old
to the widow of his brother, the wicked mother of his adopted son,
in lieu of the New Year’s call which they had been prevented by work
from making. He should have come to wish her happiness for the year,
he says, had he been able: “but I know that, nevertheless, you expect
nothing but the best of good wishes for your welfare from me as well
as Karl.” She had complained of being in need, and he says he would
gladly have helped her, but had himself too many expenditures, debts
and delayed receipts to prove his willingness at the moment; but he
would now give it to her “in writing” that thenceforth she might retain
the portion of her pension which had been set apart for her son. If,
in the future, he could give her money to better her condition, he
would willingly do so; moreover, he had long before assumed the debt
of 280 florins and 20 kreutzers which she owed Steiner. Manifestly a
truce had been established between the woman and her brother-in-law,
and in the absence of any evidence that she was in any way concerned
in an escapade of Karl’s later in the year, it would appear that she
never violated it; it was not the woman whom Beethoven hated, but the
youth whom he loved, who brought grief and an almost broken heart into
his last days. Nevertheless, there is more than passive contentment
exhibited in this letter; there is also an active magnanimity which
finds even warmer expression in a letter which he seems to have written
at an earlier date to his friend Bernard. Bernard[116] had been helpful
to Beethoven in drawing up the memorial to the court in the matter of
the guardianship and was among the friends whom Beethoven consulted
about Karl’s education and bringing up. To him Beethoven writes:

I beg of you before the day is over to make inquiries about F. v.
B. [Frau van Beethoven] and if it is possible, to have her assured
through her physician that from this month on _so long as I shall
live_ she shall have the enjoyment of the whole of her pension,
and I will see to it that if I die first, Karl shall not need the
half of her pension. It was, moreover, always my intention to
permit her to keep the whole of her pension so soon as Karl left
the Institute, but as her illness and need are so great she must be
helped at once. God has never deserted me in this heavy task and I
shall continue to trust in Him. If possible I beg of you to send
me information yet to-day and I will see to it that my _tenacious
brother also makes a contribution_ to her.

The nephew was now attending the philological lectures at the
university and living in the winter and spring months with his uncle.
He had left Blöchlinger’s Institute in August 1823 and matriculated
at the university. He was active in the service of Beethoven, doing
work as his amanuensis, carrying messages, making purchases, and so
on; in fact, Beethoven seems to have taken up more of his time than
was good for his studies. He loved him tenderly and was unceasingly
thoughtful of his welfare; but the jealousy of his affection led him
to exercise a strictness of discipline over him which could not fail
to become irksome to a growing stripling. He left him little liberty,
and, yielding to a disposition prone to passion, he not seldom treated
him with great severity. The youth appears in the Conversation Books as
lively, clever and shrewd, and Beethoven, proud of his natural gifts
of mind, was indulgent of his comments on others, permitting him
apparently to speak lightly and discourteously of the men upon whose
help and counsel he was obliged to depend. The result of Beethoven’s
extremes of harsh rebuke and loving admonition, of violent accusation
and tender solicitude, was to encourage him in his innate bent for
disingenuousness and deception, and he continued the course which he
had begun as a boy of repeating words of disparagement touching those
against whom his uncle levelled his criticisms, and of reporting, no
doubt with embellishments of his own invention, the speeches which told
of the popular admiration in which the great composer was held. By
this species of flattery he played upon the weakness of his uncle and
actually obtained an influence over him in the course of time which he
exploited to his own advantage in various directions. He was naturally
inclined to indolence and self-indulgence, and it is not strange that
Beethoven’s self-sacrifice in his behalf never awakened in him any deep
sense of gratitude, while his unreasonable and ill-considered severity
aroused a spirit of rebellion in him which grew with his advance
towards adolescence. Beethoven never seems to have realized that he had
outgrown the period when he could be treated as a child, and it was a
child’s submission which he asked of him.

Grillparzer’s opera-book was a frequent subject of conversation between
Beethoven and his friends in the early months of 1824, but petitions
and advice were alike unfruitful. He did not go to work upon it nor
yet upon a composition which presented a more urgent obligation. This
was the oratorio which he had agreed to write for the Gesellschaft
der Musikfreunde and on which he had received an advance of money in
1819. Here the fatal procrastination, though it may have been agreeable
to Beethoven, was not altogether his fault. Bernard began the book,
but seems to have put it aside after a few weeks. In April, 1820, he
tells Beethoven in a Conversation Book, “I must finish the oratorio
completely this month so that it may be handed to you in Mödling.” In
August, possibly, somebody writes: “I have put it seriously to _Sanctus
Bernardus_ that it is high time that it be done; that Hauschka was
urging a completion. He will finish it this month, _id est_ in 5 days,
and see you this evening at Camehl’s.... When I told Bernard that
Hauschka had come to you about it he was embarrassed and--it seems to
me that he is throwing the blame on you. He does not want to show his
poetical impotency.”

[Sidenote: GROWING IMPATIENCE ABOUT AN ORATORIO]

For four years after giving the commission, the Gesellschaft der
Musikfreunde waited before it put any signs of impatience on record.
Towards the close of October, 1823, Bernard gave a copy of the text
of the oratorio, which was entitled “Der Sieg des Kreutzes” (“The
Victory of the Cross”), to Beethoven and also one to Sonnleithner for
the society. After waiting nearly three months, the directorate of the
society at a meeting held on January 9, 1824, took action, the nature
of which was notified to both Beethoven and Bernard. The latter was
informed that as the society had left the choice of the text which
he was to compose to Beethoven, it could not say whether or not the
society would make use of the poem which he had sent until Beethoven
had set it to music, and the censor had given it his sanction. He was
also asked to coöperate with the society in stimulating Beethoven to
finish the work “so long expected by the musical world.” Beethoven
was told that the choice of a book for the oratorio which the society
had commissioned him to write four years before had been left to him;
that it had been informed that Bernard had undertaken to write it;
that its inquiries as to when the music would be completed had always
been answered by the statement that the poem had not been received.
Not presuming to ask a composer of his eminence to outline the plan
of a musical composition before he had become familiar with the work
as a whole and had satisfied himself touching its plan and execution,
the society, therefore, had thitherto always directed its inquiries to
Bernard, who had delivered the book in October. In view of the fact
that the society could not use the text until it had been set and he
(Beethoven) had repeatedly expressed his intention to write a work
of the kind and confirmed the receipt of earnest money paid at his
request, the society asked him explicitly to say whether or not he
intended to compose Bernard’s poem, and, if so, when the work might be
expected.

Beethoven answered the letter at great length. He said that he had not
asked Bernard to write the text but had been told that the society had
commissioned him to do so; Bernard being the editor of a newspaper it
was impossible for him to consult him often; moreover, consultations
of this character would be long drawn out and personally disagreeable,
as Bernard had written nothing for music except “Libussa,” which had
not been performed at the time, but which he had known since 1809 and
which had required many alterations; he was compelled to be somewhat
skeptical about the collaboration and have the book before him in its
entirety. He had once received a portion of the book, but Bernard, to
the best of his recollection, had said that it would have to be changed
and he had given it back to him. At last he had received the whole
text at the time that the society received it, but other obligations
which illness had retarded had had to be fulfilled, since, as the
society probably knew, he was compelled to live from his compositions.
Many changes, some of which he had indicated to Bernard, would have to
be made in the book. He would finish his suggestions and consult with
Bernard, for,

though I find the material good and the poem has a value, it cannot
remain _as it is_. The poet and I wrote “Christus am Ölberg” in
14 days, but that poet was musical and had written several things
for music and I could consult with him at any moment. Let us leave
out of consideration _the value_ of poems of this sort; we all
know what allowances are to be made--the merit lies in the middle.
So far as I am concerned I would rather set Homer, Klopstock,
Schiller to music; if they offer difficulties to be overcome _these
immortal poets_ at least deserve it. As soon as I am through with
making changes in the oratorio with Bernard I shall have the honor
to inform you of the fact and at the same time let the society
know when it may with certainty count upon it. That is all that I
can say about it at present. Respecting the 400 florins, Vienna
standard, sent to me _without demand_ I would have sent them back
long ago had I been able to foresee that the matter would last
much longer than I had imagined; it was grievous to me not to
be able to express myself on the subject. Concerning it I had a
notion, in order to provide at least the interest on the sum, to
unite with the society in a concert; but neither Herr Schindler
nor my brother was authorized to say anything on the subject, and
it was farthest from my thoughts that it should be done _in such a
manner_. Please inform Herrn von Sonnleithner of this. I also thank
the society heartily for the offer of the platform and its aid
which it proffered me and in time I shall make use of them. I shall
be glad to hear whether the society wishes to make use of my works
after my concert, among which is a new symphony. The Grand Mass is
really rather in the oratorio style and particularly adapted to the
society. I shall be especially pleased if my unselfishness and also
my zealous desire to serve the society in whose benevolent deeds in
behalf of art I always take the greatest interest, are recognized.

It is interesting to note in connection with this letter that Beethoven
resents the statement that he had asked for the money given as an
earnest; that he was unwilling to assume responsibility for the
selection of Bernard as his collaborator (though Bernard was among his
friends and advisors and he had expressed satisfaction with his choice
when he accepted the commission, only insisting that the poet be paid
by the society); that he gave at least moderate approval to the book as
a whole but insisted on some alterations which were essential; that he
had been contemplating co-operation with the society in a concert, and
that he had received an offer of assistance from it in a concert which
he was to give. The letter was written on January 23, some time before
the receipt of the memorial which was the first official step toward
the great concerts of May 7 and 23. There is evidence of a kindly
feeling between the society and him, and, indeed, that feeling was
never interrupted, though the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde never got
the oratorio nor received back the money advanced on its commission.
The society afterward elected him to honorary membership.

[Sidenote: CONTRADICTORY ADVICE AS TO BERNARD’S BOOK]

Beethoven was frequently urged to set to work on the music of “The
Victory of the Cross”; but he was also advised not to compose it.
Archduke Rudolph accepted the dedication of the poem and wrote to
Beethoven telling him of the fact and expressing a wish that he would
set it to music. But Schikh said to him: “If I were Beethoven I would
never compose the extremely tiresome text of this oratorio.” Beethoven
had expressed satisfaction with the subject and the quality of the
lines; he discussed changes which he wished to have made with Bernard
after he had had time to consider the work as a whole; he promised
Hauschka in September that he would compose it as soon as he returned
to the city, and asked him to pay Bernard his fee; but he never set
seriously to work upon it, though at the end of the letter to Hauschka
(which bears date September 23, 1824) he reiterated his promise so that
he might, with mock solemnity, attest it by affixing his hand and seal.

The book of “The Victory of the Cross” was based upon the ancient story
of the apparition of the cross and the legend “_In hoc signo vinces_”
to Constantine the Great. _Constantine_ has crossed the Alps into Italy
and lies encamped confronting his enemy _Maxentius_ before Rome. His
daughter _Julia_, who is represented as wife to _Maxentius_, attempts
to avert the battle, but the vision strengthens _Constantine’s_
resolve. _Julia_ hears the angelic canticles which accompany the
apparition and is converted to the true faith, persisting in it to
martyrdom, to which she is condemned by her husband. _Maxentius_ also
hears the voices, but his augurs (allegorical figures representing
_Hate_ and _Discord_) interpret them to his advantage, whereas similar
figures (_Faith_, _Hope_ and _Charity_) inspire the Christian army.
Pious canticles on the one hand, harsh songs on the other, precede the
battle, the progress of which is related by a solo voice. _Constantine_
promises to raise the cross on the forum in Rome; the victory is won
and celebrated with Christian hymns, “Hosanna!” and “Glory to God!”
Beethoven’s copy of the libretto has been preserved, and in it there
are indications that he made some heroic excisions. He permitted
_Faith_, _Hope_ and _Charity_ to remain, but banished _Hate_ and
_Discord_. It is pretty plain that Beethoven found nothing inspiring in
the work. Holz told Jahn that he said to him, “How could I get up any
enthusiasm about it?” Schindler says that Beethoven’s failure to set
the book caused a rupture of the friendship which existed between him
and Bernard. The directors of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde dropped
the matter, neither importuning Beethoven more nor taking any steps to
recover the money paid on account.

One outcome of the concerts of May was the appearance of a new
portrait of Beethoven. It was a lithographic reproduction of a crayon
drawing made by Stephen Decker and was printed as a supplement to the
“Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung” edited by F. A. Kanne, on June 6,
1824. In this and two subsequent numbers of the journal (June 9 and 16)
Kanne reviewed the concerts with discriminating appreciation, ending
with an enthusiastic encomium of the composer. In 1827 Steinmüller made
a plate of Decker’s drawing for Artaria. Schindler and Frimmel agree
in saying that the well-known portrait by Kriehuber is an imitation of
Decker’s drawing, which was made, as Kanne’s journal stated, “a few
days after his great concert in May, 1824.”[117]

During the preparations for the concerts, thought was also given to
the usual summer sojourn, and various places--Grinzing, Heiligenstadt,
Penzing, Breitensee, Hietzing, Hetzendorf--were canvassed in
consultation with Beethoven by his friends. His brother had again
offered him a home on his estate and it was expected that Count
Brunswick would come for the concert and take Beethoven back with him
to Hungary. In all of the excursions which were made in the vicinity
of Schönbrunn in search of a summer home, Schindler accompanied the
composer to see, to advise, to negotiate. The choice fell upon Penzing,
where an apartment was found in the first storey of the house numbered
43 belonging to a tailor in Vienna named Johann Hörr, who was rejoiced
to have so distinguished a tenant. Beethoven took it for the summer
beginning on May 1, for a rental of 180 florins, C. M. The receipt is
in existence, with a characteristic memorial of Beethoven’s violent
and abrupt change of mind concerning men and things. The lodgings were
in all things adapted to his needs and Beethoven, entirely satisfied,
moved into them soon after the second concert. An old couple lived in
the parterre, but otherwise he was the only tenant of the house. But
the house lay close to a foot-bridge over the little stream called
the Wien Fluss and people crossing it frequently stopped to gaze
into his rooms. He could have saved himself the annoyance by drawing
the curtains, but instead he flew into a rage, quarrelled with his
landlord, against whom he recorded his anger by scrawling the epithet
“Schurke” (rogue, wretch, scoundrel, etc.) under his name on the
receipt, and removing to Baden (Gutenbrunn). He had been in the house
six weeks; in Baden he staid from about the 1st of August till some
time in November; and thus was again paying rent for three lodgings at
the same time.

[Sidenote: TWO NEW OFFERS OF THE MASS IN D]

[Sidenote: Schott and Sons Buy the Mass]

The matter of the subscriptions for the Mass being disposed of (except
so far as the deliveries of some of the scores was concerned), and
the Symphony completed, Beethoven now had time, while getting ready
for their performance, to think also of their publication. As he had
promised to deliver the Mass to Simrock long before, so also he had
contracted to give exclusive possession of the Symphony for eighteen
months to the Philharmonic Society of London, in March, 1823. It was
eleven months after that date that the score was finished and thirteen
months before it was placed in the hands of the Philharmonic Society’s
agent in Vienna. Hogarth in his history of the Philharmonic Society is
only technically correct when he says that it was not “received” by the
society until “after it had been performed at Vienna.” It was handed
to Ries’s representative on April 26 or 27, 1824; the first concert
took place on May 7th. When Beethoven took up the matter of publication
again he ignored Simrock, Peters, Schlesinger and the Vienna publishers
and turned to Schott and Sons of Mayence and H. A. Probst of Leipsic.
Schott and Sons had sent him their journal “Cäcilia” with the request
that he recommend a correspondent in the Austrian capital, and also
send them some compositions for publication. He answered on March 10,
1824, that he would gladly serve the paper if it were not that he
felt it to be a higher and more natural calling to manifest himself
through his musical compositions; but he had instigated a search for
a fit man to act as Viennese reviewer. Of his compositions he offered
“a new Grand Mass with solo and chorus and full orchestra” which he
considered his “greatest work,” and a new Grand Symphony with a finale
in the style of his Pianoforte Fantasia with chorus “but on a much
larger scale”; also a new quartet for strings.[118] The fees demanded
were 1000 florins C. M. for the Mass, 600 florins for the Symphony and
50 ducats for the Quartet. “This business only to oblige you.” On the
same day he wrote to H. A. Probst offering the Mass and Symphony at
the same prices but stipulating that the latter should not be published
before July, 1825, though, to recompense the publisher for the delay,
he would let him have the pianoforte arrangement _gratis_. Only a
portion of this letter has been preserved, but the contents of the lost
fragment can be gathered from Probst’s answer under date March 22, in
which he promises to deposit at once with Joseph Loydl and Co. 100
imperial ducats to Beethoven’s account, to be paid over on delivery of
three songs with pianoforte accompaniment (two of them to have parts
for other instruments, the third to be an arietta), six bagatelles
for pianoforte solo, and a grand overture with pianoforte arrangement
for 2 and 4 hands. What these works were may easily be guessed. After
this business had been arranged to the satisfaction of both parties,
Probst said, he would communicate his decision respecting the Mass.
Beethoven wrote, probably on July 3, explaining his delay on the score
that the compositions “had just been finished” but were now ready for
delivery at any moment to Herrn Glöggl, to whom he requested that the
money be sent. On August 9, Probst informed Beethoven that the 100
ducats had already been sent to Loydl and Co., in Vienna. A letter
written by Beethoven on the same day has been lost, but a portion of
its contents can be deduced from Probst’s reply a week later--August
16. The Leipsic publisher admitted that his action in depositing the
money to be delivered in exchange for the manuscripts had been due
to reports which had reached him touching difficulties which another
publisher had had with the composer. In purchasing manuscripts without
examination he was departing from his established rule of action and
he trusted to the admiration which he felt for the composer’s genius
that the latter had set apart works of excellence for him. He would
gladly have published the Symphony, but was deterred by the danger of
piracy which was peculiarly great in Austria. He promised a speedy and
handsome publication of the works purchased. A memorandum by Beethoven
indicates that he answered this letter, but the nature of his reply
is not known. It is to be presumed that he withdrew his offer of the
Symphony. The correspondence with Probst ended and the negotiations,
which had again reached the point of a deposit of the fee against the
delivery of the manuscripts, came to nothing; Schott and Sons secured
not only the Mass, Symphony and Quartet, but the smaller pieces also.
The firm accepted the offer of the Quartet at once, but asked either a
reduction of the fees for the Symphony and Mass, or permission to pay
the money in installments at intervals of six months. Subsequently the
firm offered to provide a guaranty for the deferred payments and to
consider any proposition which Beethoven had to make. The two letters,
dated respectively March 24 and April 10, remaining unanswered,
Schott and Sons again wrote on April 19 and still again on April 27;
introducing with the former letter Christian Rummel, Chapelmaster of
the Duke of Nassau, and asking a contribution to “Cäcilia” in the
latter. In the midst of his preparations for the concert, Beethoven
replied and repeated his offer of the Mass and Symphony, but held the
matter of the Quartet in abeyance. He asked that payment for the other
works be made by bills drawn on a Vienna bank payable 600 florins in
one month, 500 florins in two months and 600 florins in four months.
On July 3 he also conceded the Quartet, which he promised to deliver
inside of six weeks. With this the business was concluded and, as an
undated letter of Beethoven’s shows, much to his gratification; the
business methods of Schott and Sons were extremely satisfactory to him.
But the year came to an end, and the Mayence publishers were still
waiting for their manuscripts, while Beethoven was kept busy writing
explanations in answer to their questions and requests. On September 17
Beethoven says he will attend to the copying of the works as soon as he
has returned to Vienna, and send the Quartet by the middle of October;
in November he is obliged to give two lessons a day to Archduke Rudolph
and has no time to look after the matter; on December 5 the works are
most certainly to be delivered to Fries and Co. within the current
week; on December 17 it will be another week before the works can be
delivered--the Archduke has but gone and he must look through the copy
of the score several times--and he begs his correspondents not to
think ill of him, for he had “never done anything wrong,” intimating
that a certain publisher in Vienna was trying to seduce him from the
Mayence firm and to that end was seeking to make them suspicious,
etc.; meanwhile he offers for publication the overture which had been
performed at his concert, six bagatelles and three songs in behalf of
his brother to whom they belong, the price 130 ducats in gold. These
were the works which Probst had agreed to purchase for 100 ducats and
the money for which had been sent to Vienna. Schott agreed to buy them
for 130 ducats and Beethoven wrote to his brother in Gneixendorf on
December 24: “I inform you that Mayence will give 130 ducats in gold
for your works: if Herr Probst will not pay as much, give them to
Mayence, who will at once send you a cheque; these are really honest,
not mean, business men.” Johann promptly put himself in communication
with Schott and Sons and graciously confirmed the sale of the works at
130 florins, “out of respect” for his brother.

Peters, who had been informed of the state of affairs concerning the
Mass, evidently sent a complaint, or protest, to Beethoven, for on
December 12, 1824, the latter informs the publisher that the case
has been closed by his promise of the work to another publisher. He
(Peters) should have received a quartet had the publishers who took
the Mass not made the Quartet a condition of his acceptance. But he
should surely have another quartet soon, or he was ready to make him
a proposition for a larger work, in which case the sum which had been
paid might be deducted from the new fee. Let Peters but be patient and
he should be completely satisfied. Then follows this rebuke:

You did wrong to _yourself_ and _to me_, and you are still doing
the latter in, as I hear, accusing me of having sent you _inferior_
works. Did you not yourself ask for songs and bagatelles? Afterward
it occurred to you that the fee was too large and that a larger
work might have been had for it. That you showed yourself to be a
poor judge of art in this is proved by the fact that several of
these works have been and will be published, and such a thing never
happened to me before.[119] As soon as I can I will liquidate my
indebtedness to you, and meanwhile I remain, etc.

In September of this year the interest of Beethoven’s old friend
Andreas Streicher, whose wife was a visitor at Baden, seems to have
been awakened in a marked degree, and he gave himself to the devising
of plans to ameliorate the composer’s financial position. He revived
the project for a complete edition of the compositions which, as he
outlines it, he thinks might yield a profit of 10,000 florins, good
money; proposes six high-class subscription concerts in the approaching
winter, which, with 600 subscribers, would yield 4,800 florins; finally
he suggests that manuscript copies of the Mass in D with pianoforte
or organ accompaniment be sold to a number of singing societies.
Though this project had in a measure been attempted in the case of
the Singverein of Berlin and achieved in that of the Cäcilienverein
of Frankfort, Beethoven seems to have authorized Streicher to make an
effort in the direction proposed, for two copies of a letter evidently
written to be communicated to singing societies or representative
members have been found. In the letter Beethoven suggests that owing to
the cost of copying, etc., the price be 50 ducats--just as much as he
had asked of his royal subscribers for the full orchestral score. None
of the projects came to execution, though the first, which lay close
to Beethoven’s heart, came up for attention at a later date.

[Sidenote: PRAISE FOR ENGLAND AND THE ENGLISH]

Towards the end of September, Johann Stumpff, a native of Thuringia but
a resident of London, was among the visitors at Baden who were admitted
to intimate association with Beethoven. This was another Stumpff, not
the one who came to Vienna in 1818 with a letter from Thomas Broadwood,
and who tuned the new English pianoforte. He was a manufacturer of
harps and an enthusiastic admirer of Beethoven’s music. Anticipating
a meeting with the composer, he had provided himself with a letter of
introduction to Haslinger, whose help to that end he asked. He had
also gotten a letter from Streicher, whose acquaintance he had made
in London. He accomplished his end and wrote a long and enthusiastic
account of his intercourse with Beethoven at Baden, whither Haslinger
had accompanied him on his first visit.[120] He was received by
Beethoven with extraordinary cordiality. The composer accepted an
invitation to dinner, entertained his host at dinner in return, played
for him on his Broadwood pianoforte (after Stein, at Stumpff’s request,
had restored its ruins), and at parting gave him a print of one of
his portraits and promised to alight at his house if ever he came to
London. Much of his conversation, which Stumpff records, is devoted to
a condemnation of the frivolity and bad musical taste of the Viennese,
and excessive laudation of everything English. “Beethoven,” Stumpff
remarks, “had an exaggerated opinion of London and its highly cultured
inhabitants,” and he quotes Beethoven as saying: “England stands high
in culture. In London everybody knows something and knows it well; but
the man of Vienna can only talk of eating and drinking, and sings and
pounds away at music of little significance or of his own making.” He
spoke a great deal about sending his nephew to London to make a man of
him, asked questions about the cost of living there and, in short, gave
proof that an English visit was filling a large part of his thoughts.
The incidents of the conclusion of the dinner which he gave to Stumpff
may be told in the latter’s words:

Beethoven now produced the small bottle. It contained the precious
wine of Tokay with which he filled the two glasses to the brim.
“Now, my good German-Englishman, to your good health.” We drained
the glasses, then, extending his hand, “A good journey to you
and to a meeting again in London.” I beckoned to him to fill
the glasses again and hurriedly wrote in his notebook: “Now
for a pledge to the welfare of the greatest living composer,
Beethoven.”--I arose from my chair, he followed my example, emptied
his glass and seizing my hand said: “To-day I am just what I am
and what I ought to be,--all unbuttoned.” And now he unbosomed
himself on the subject of music which had been degraded and made a
plaything of vulgar and impudent passions. “True music,” he said,
“found little recognition in this age of Rossini and his consorts.”
Thereupon I took up the pencil and wrote in very distinct letters:

“Whom do you consider the greatest composer that ever lived?”

“Handel,” was his instantaneous reply; “to him I bow the knee,” and
he bent one knee to the floor.

“Mozart,” I wrote.

“Mozart,” he continued, “is good and admirable.”

“Yes,” wrote I, “who was able to glorify even Handel with his
additional accompaniments to ‘The Messiah’.”

“It would have lived without them,” was his answer.

I continued writing. “Seb. Bach.”

“Why is he dead?”

I answered immediately “He will return to life again.”

“Yes, if he is studied, and for that there is now no time.”

I took the liberty of writing: “As you yourself, a peerless artist
in the art of music, exalt the merits of Handel so highly above
all, you must certainly own the scores of his principal works.”

“I? How should I, a poor devil, have gotten them? Yes, the scores
of ‘The Messiah’ and ‘Alexander’s Feast’ went through my hands.”

If it is possible for a blind man to help a cripple, and the two
attain an end which would be impossible to either one unaided, why
might not in the present case a similar result be effected by a
similar coöperation? At that moment I made a secret vow: Beethoven,
you shall have the works for which your heart is longing if they
are anywhere to be found.

Stumpff relates that Beethoven’s brother, who came into the room during
his visit, seemed glad to greet him and begged him most amiably to call
on him, as he desired to talk with him about a number of things. In
saying farewell Beethoven accompanied him to the door and said: “That
is my brother--have nothing to do with him--he is not an honest man.
You will hear me accused of many wrong actions of which he has been
guilty.” Stumpff returned to London on December 6. He fulfilled his vow
touching the gift of Handel’s works two years later.

On November 17, 1824, as the autograph attests, Beethoven wrote a
four-part canon on the words “Schwenke dich ohne Schwänke,” which he
sent to Schott and Sons for publication in the “Cäcilia,” where it
appeared in April, 1825. There the title is “Canon on one who was
called Schwenke.” The person whose name has thus been perpetuated
was Carl Schwenke, son of Christian Friedrich Gottlieb Schwenke,
Director of Church Music and Cantor at the Johanneum in Hamburg. Of the
acquaintanceship between Beethoven and him, the canon is the only relic.

In the latter part of the summer Beethoven accepted a commission from
Diabelli for “a Sonata in F for pianoforte, four hands.” The project
seems to have originated with the publisher, who asked for such a
composition and specified the key in a letter dated August 7, 1824.
Beethoven waited a fortnight before replying and then agreed to compose
the work for a fee of 80 ducats in gold, although a sonata for four
hands was not in his line. He mentioned the composition and the fee
which he was to receive for it in the draft for a letter to Schlesinger
next year, but never wrote the work; nor have any certain traces of it
been found in the sketchbooks.

[Sidenote: The Quartet in E-flat, Op. 127]

There is only one other work which calls for attention as having
largely occupied Beethoven’s mind this year. It is the Quartet for
Strings in E-flat, Op. 127. When Beethoven in January, 1823, accepted
the invitation of Prince Galitzin to write three quartets for him, he
had for some time been contemplating a return to the field which he had
cultivated so successfully but had permitted to lie fallow after the
completion of the quartet in F minor, Op. 95, in October, 1810. He had
held out a promise for speedy delivery of a quartet to Peters on June
5, 1822, but Peters declined the work in his next letter. Galitzin sent
the stipulated fee of 50 ducats promptly to his bankers in Vienna, but
subsequently yielded to Beethoven’s request and permitted the money
to be applied to his subscription for the Mass. On March 10, 1824,
Beethoven offered “a new quartet” to Schott and Sons for 50 ducats
and the publishers promptly notified their acceptance of the offer to
him. Neate was informed by a letter dated March 19 that the Quartet
was finished; but, as usual, the word was used in a Pickwickian sense.
The correspondence with Schott and Sons sings the same tune with
respect to the Quartet that it does regarding Mass and Symphony. On
May 20 Beethoven cannot positively promise it; on July 3 he is sure
that the publishers will receive it in six weeks; on September 17 the
time of delivery is postponed to the middle of October; in November to
the beginning of December; and on December 17 he says there is still
something to be written on it. All the works which Schott and Sons have
bought are to be delivered at one time, yet when they receive the Mass
and Symphony on January 16, 1825, the Quartet is withheld but promised
in another week, and, after a month has passed, in still another
week. The Quartet is performed for the first time by Schuppanzigh on
March 6, 1825. At last Beethoven writes to Schott and Sons on May 7,
1825: “You will have received the Quartet by this time--it is the one
promised to you.” In March, 1826, its publication is announced in the
“Cäcilia.” The autograph of the first movement is dated “1824” and no
doubt the bulk of the work upon it was done in the latter part of the
year, though it must have existed at least in a fragmentary form in
Beethoven’s head when he wrote to Neate in March that it was finished.

At the close of the year Beethoven’s nephew Karl is still pursuing
his philological studies at the university and living with his uncle.
During the summer his holidays are spent in the country with Beethoven,
to whom he is the cause of no little anxiety, especially when towards
the end of the year he repeats his youthful escapade of running away
from home. Beethoven, thinking of his foster-child’s welfare and
apparently made ill at ease by symptoms which made him apprehend that
he was likely to die suddenly of an apoplectic stroke (“like my good
grandfather, whom I resemble,” he wrote), sent a letter to Dr. Bach
on August 1, begging him to draw up a formal will and reiterating his
intention to make his nephew inheritor of all his property. He also
directed: “As it is customary to make a bequest to relatives even if
they are in no wise related,” that his French pianoforte be given to
his brother. “As regards Steiner, let him be content with the assurance
that he shall be paid in full by the end of September--for if anything
comes of the Mayence business it will not be before then and the first
600 florins must go to two of the noblest of mankind who, when I was
almost helpless, most kindly and disinterestedly came to my assistance
with this sum.” No doubt the Brentanos were meant; Steiner had
evidently been dunning him for the old debt.

About the beginning of November, Beethoven returned again to Vienna,
where he took up a new residence--probably at No. 969 Johannesgasse, a
house owned by a family named Kletschka. He did not remain there long,
however, as the other tenants complained of his pianoforte playing
and the disturbance caused by his quarrels with his nephew and the
housekeeper. He received notice to quit and removed, presumably, to
apartments in the second storey of a house in the Krügerstrasse, now
known as No. 13.

[Sidenote: AN ENGLISH VISIT AGAIN CONTEMPLATED]

Thoughts of a visit to England had been revived early in the year by
a letter from Neate and, while the plans of the concert were making,
it had been determined, so far as it was possible to do so, that
the visit should be undertaken in the fall and that Schindler should
accompany him. This is the key to Schindler’s forceful observation
after the financial fiasco of the concert. A second letter bearing on
the subject was written by Neate on December 20. Consideration of it
belongs in the next chapter.

FOOTNOTES:

[116] Beethoven’s letters to Bernard were published by Alexander
Hajdecki in the February number, 1909, of “Nord und Süd”; Hajdecki
found the letters in the hands of a niece of one of Bernard’s daughters
to whom he had bequeathed them. They are not included in the Kalischer
or Prelinger collections.

[117] Frimmel, however, placing faith in a tradition to that effect,
says that the Decker drawing was made in the fall of 1825 in the
Schwarzspanier House. The print issued by the “Allgemeine Musikalische
Zeitung” could not be found by Dr. Deiters; but Thayer, (who spells
the name of the artist “Daker,”) saw one in the hands of Prof.
Spatzenegger, a son-in-law of the artist, in Salzburg.

[118] This could only have been the Quartet in E-flat, which, however,
was far from finished.

[119] Only the Bagatelles, Op. 119, had been published when this was
written.

[120] Stumpff’s manuscript, which also covered the principal incidents
of a trip through Germany, after his death came into the possession of
his surviving partner, T. Martin, who permitted Thayer to transcribe
all of it relating to Beethoven. Many of his observations parallel
those made by Reichardt, Rochlitz, Schultz and other visitors, and
their repetition here would add nothing to the story of Beethoven’s
life and manners; besides, the account is too long to be inserted in
full. The reader who wishes to read all of it is referred to the German
edition of Thayer’s biography. Vol. V, page 122 _et seq._

Chapter VII

The Year 1825--The London Philharmonic Society again--Karl
Holz--The Early Biographies--Visits of Rellstab, Kuhlau, Smart and
Others--Stephan von Breuning--The A Minor Quartet, Op. 132.

The letter from Neate referred to at the conclusion of the last
chapter brought with it an invitation from the Philharmonic Society of
London which kept the thought of an English visit alive in Beethoven’s
irresolute mind for a considerable space longer. Neate wrote in an
extremely cordial vein. He had long wished to see Beethoven in England,
he said, where he believed that his genius was appreciated more than
in any other country; and now he had received the pleasant charge from
the Philharmonic Society to invite him to come. He made no doubt but
that in a short time he would earn enough money richly to compensate
him for all the inconveniences of the journey. The Philharmonic Society
was disposed to give him 300 guineas for conducting at least one of
his works at each of the Society’s concerts in the coming season, and
composing a new symphony which was to be produced during his visit
but to remain the composer’s property. As an additional pecuniary
inducement he held out that Beethoven could give a concert of his own
at which he would make at least £500, besides which there were many
other avenues of profit open to him. If he were to bring along the
quartets of which he had written, they would yield him £100 more, and
he might therefore be sure of carrying back a large sum of money,
enough, indeed, to make all the remainder of his life much pleasanter
than the past had been. He told Beethoven that the new Symphony had
arrived and the first rehearsal of it set for January 17. He hoped that
Beethoven would be on hand to direct it at the first concert of the
Society and trusted that a report that a copy of it was in Paris was
not true.

[Sidenote: PLANS FOR THE TRIP TO LONDON]

Beethoven replied: He was delighted with the terms which the Society
offered, but would like to have 100 guineas more to pay for the
expenses of the trip, it being necessary that he buy a carriage for
the journey, and take a companion with him. He would bring a new
quartet. The rumor that there was a copy of the Symphony was not true;
it would, indeed, be published in Germany, but not before the year
was past during which it was to remain the society’s property.[121]
He urged that separate string rehearsals be held and the choruses be
thoroughly studied above all, and directions for the _reprise_ in the
second movement, the marks for which had been forgotten in the copy.
An early reply was asked, as he had been requested to write a large
work upon which he did not wish to begin before receiving an answer,
for while he did not write in the hope of gaining a fortune it was
necessary that he have assurance that he would earn a living. To this
letter Neate replied on February 1. He had conveyed the contents of
Beethoven’s letter to the directors of the Philharmonic Society and had
now regretfully to report that they had declined to make any change
in their offer. He was personally willing to give the advance asked,
but the individual directors were not masters of their conduct in all
things; they had to abide by the laws of the Society. He hoped that
under the circumstances Beethoven would come; he was sure the trip
would pay him, and the directors would impatiently await his presence
at the second concert, it being already too late for the first. There
was to be another rehearsal of the Symphony that evening.

Again Beethoven had to struggle with the question as to whether or
not he should make the journey to London. He was strongly urged to go
by his desire to earn a large sum of money. His friends pressed him
with arguments in favor of the trip. Karl admonished him to make up
his mind without giving heed to his insatiably sordid brother, but
reminded him that Neate had assured him he would make enough money to
be free of care for the rest of his life. Johann did not talk of the
financial advantage alone but said that he would benefit physically,
travel being good for the health. Apparently answering an objection of
Beethoven’s on the score of his age, Karl reminded him that Haydn also
went to London when he was fifty years old and he was “not so famous.”
Schuppanzigh bursts out with his brusque third person singular: “I wish
he would pluck up enough courage to make the trip; he would not regret
it.” Who should accompany him? Schindler had been recommended by Neate,
but his name does not occur in these conversations; instead, there
is talk of Schuppanzigh and young Streicher. But as it turned out, no
one was to accompany him, nobody alight with him either at the house
of Stumpff or the Hotel de la Sablonière in Leicester Square which
Neate had recommended as a French house much visited by foreigners. His
doubts, suspicions, fears for his health, anxiety about his nephew,
his fatal indecision, prevailed;--he would make the visit some other
time--perhaps in the fall, as he wrote to Neate. Meanwhile would Neate
aid him in the matter of the quartets? He had finished one and was
at work on a second, which would be completed soon. Then he wrote
again--on May 25; he was satisfied with the offer of £100 for the three
quartets, was Neate agreed to his plan of sending them to a banker
to be delivered on payment of the fee? If so he would send the first
quartet at once and the fee might be paid after he had given notice of
the completion of the other two.

[Sidenote: THE NINTH SYMPHONY AT AIX-LA-CHAPELLE]

The absence of Ries’s name in these negotiations is explained by the
fact that he was no longer in London. He had purchased an estate in
Godesberg, near Bonn, and removed thither in 1824. He had invited
Beethoven to be his guest there and it would seem that he was advised
about the English situation. At least in a letter, presumably written
early in 1825, Beethoven deems it incumbent to inform Ries that the
present efforts to dispose of the Ninth Symphony were tentative and
that the period during which the Philharmonic Society was to hold the
work would be scrupulously respected. It had never been sent to Bremen
or to Paris as had been reported. The occasion for this letter was one
from Ries requesting metronome marks for “Christus am Ölberg,” and for
the score of the Ninth Symphony for the approaching Lower Rhenish Music
Festival, which he had been engaged to conduct. These _Niederrheinische
Musikfeste_ had come into existence in 1817. The seventh meeting was
to be held at Aix-la-Chapelle. Reports of the Vienna performance had
been spread and it was desired to make the Symphony a feature of
the festival scheme. In January, Schott and Sons were asked if the
score would be in print by May and replied in the negative. Thereupon
Ries was asked to write to Beethoven for a manuscript copy. Ries
did not favor the production of the Symphony[122] but wrote for the
music nevertheless, and Beethoven sent him the score of the purely
instrumental movements and the parts of the finale. This was about
March 12; a week later, on March 19 (two days, by the way, before the
first performance in London), he sent the chorusmaster’s score of the
finale and suggested that the instrumental score might be written out
and appended. In the earlier letter in which Beethoven had promised
to send the Symphony and in which he enclosed the metronome marks for
the “Christus am Ölberg,” Beethoven offered to send also the Mass in
D, an overture which he had written “for the Philharmonic Society,”
and some smaller things for orchestra and chorus, which would enable
the festival managers to give two or three concerts instead of one. He
suggested that 40 Carolines would, perhaps, not be too much as a fee.
Beethoven explained to Ries that he had only one copy of the score of
the Ninth Symphony, and as there was a concert in prospect he could
not send it; so Ries had a score made of the finale for the festival
performance. Beethoven had also sent the “Opferlied,” the Overture in
C (Op. 115, of course), the _Kyrie_ and _Gloria_ of the Mass and an
Italian duet. He was still to send a grand march and chorus (from “The
Ruins of Athens”), and might add an overture which was as yet unknown
outside of Vienna, but thought he had sent enough. The Symphony and
“Christus am Ölberg” were performed on the second day of the festival.
The time was too short for the difficult music thoroughly to be learned
and at the performance portions of the slow movement and Scherzo of
the Symphony were “regretfully” omitted. There were 422 performers
in chorus and orchestra, and the popular reception of the music was
enthusiastic enough to enable Ries to report to Beethoven that the
performance had been a success; and he sent him 40 Louis d’ors as a
fee. Ries recognized the symphony as a work without a fellow and told
Beethoven that had he written nothing else it would have made him
immortal. “Whither will you yet lead us?” he asked. Very naturally,
Beethoven had reported the negotiations touching a visit to England
to Ries, who expressed his satisfaction that he had not accepted the
engagement and added: “If you want to go there you must make thorough
preparations. Rossini got £2500 from the Opera alone. If Englishmen
want to do an extraordinary thing, they must all get together so as to
make it worth while. There will be no lack of applause and marks of
honor, but you have probably had enough of these all your life.”

[Sidenote: A JOKE ON HASLINGER MISCARRIES]

Mass and symphony had been delivered to Fries, the banker, on January
16, to be forwarded to Schott and Sons. Beethoven informed the firm by
letter and took occasion to deny the report that it had been printed
elsewhere. However, he does not seem to be entirely at ease in the
matter. “Schlesinger is not to be trusted, for he takes where he can;
both _Père et fils_ bombarded me for the Mass, etc., but I did not
deign to answer either of them, since after thinking them over I had
cast them out long before.”[123] He asks their attention to his plan
for a complete edition of his works, which he would like to prepare and
take a lump sum as an honorarium. He sends two canons for publication
in the journal “Cäcilia,” and attempted a joke on his friend Haslinger
which exercised his mind not a little during the next month or two.
This was a skit purporting to be an outline or draft for an article
on Haslinger’s career. The Schotts, either not understanding the
joke or desiring to injure a rival who had spoken ill of them to
Beethoven, printed the communication together with the two canons as
if they belonged together. Beethoven either felt or affected to feel
great anger at the proceeding; he sent a letter to the publishers and
demanded its publication without change or curtailment. In this he
rebuked them for printing what was intended as a pleasantry but might
easily be construed as an intentional insult. He had not destined it
for publication, and it was contrary to his nature intentionally to
give offence to anybody. He had never resented anything that had been
said about him as an artist, but he felt differently about things
which affected him as a man. Haslinger was a respected old friend and
he had thought to heighten the effect of the joke by suggesting that
his consent to the publication be obtained. The printing was an abuse
of the privileges of private correspondence, especially as the canons
printed,[124] being set forth as a supplement to the skit, thereby
became inexplicably incongruous. He would have a care that such a thing
should not occur again. Whether or not the communication was ever
printed does not appear; neither does it appear that Beethoven took
the matter so greatly to heart as his letter was calculated to make
the public believe, had it been printed. In August he wrote to his new
friend Karl Holz: “I hear with amazement that the Mayence street-boys
really abused a joke! It is contemptible; I assure you it was not
at all my intention. What I meant was to have Castelli write a poem
on these lines under the name of the musical Tobias, which I would
set to music. But since it has so happened, it must be accepted as a
dispensation from heaven. It will form a companion-piece to Goethe’s
Bardt _sans comparaison_ with all other authors. But I believe Tobias
has wronged you a little, etc.,--_Voila_ it is better to be revenged
than to fall into the maw of a monster.[125] I can’t shed tears over it
but must laugh like--.” To his nephew he wrote: “It was not right for
Mayence to do a thing like that, but as it is done it will do no harm.
The times demand strong men to castigate these petty, tricky, miserable
little fellows”; and then, as if repenting him of the sounding phrase,
he wrote in the margin: “much as my heart rebels against doing a man
harm; besides it was only a joke and I never thought of having it
printed.” It would seem that Haslinger must have known of the skit
before it was sent to Schott, for in a letter of February 5, Beethoven
suggested to the firm, as a joke, to ask Haslinger for the “romantic
biography” which Beethoven had written of him, and added: “That is the
way to handle this fellow, a heartless Viennese, who is the one who
advised me not to deal with you. _Silentium!_” And he describes Steiner
as a “rascally fellow and skinflint,” and Haslinger as a “weakling”
whom he made useful to himself in some things. Haslinger may have
felt incensed at the publication, but he eventually accepted it in an
amiable spirit and it did not lead to any rupture of friendship between
the men.

An amusing illustration of how Beethoven could work himself into a rage
even when alone is preserved at the Beethoven Museum in Bonn, in the
shape of some extraordinary glosses on a letter from a copyist named
Wolanek, who was in his employ in the spring of the year. Wolanek was a
Bohemian. Beethoven had railed against him whenever sending corrections
to a publisher or apologizing for delays, and it is not difficult to
imagine what the poor fellow had to endure from the composer’s voluble
tongue and fecund imagination in the invention and application of
epithets. In delivering some manuscripts by messenger some time before
Easter, Wolanek ventured a defense of his dignity in a letter which,
though couched in polite phrase, was nevertheless decidedly ironical
and cutting. He said that he was inclined to overlook Beethoven’s
conduct towards him with a smile; since there were so many dissonances
in the ideal world of tones, why not also in the world of reality?
For him there was comfort in the reflection that if Beethoven had
been copyist to “those celebrated artists, Mozart and Haydn,” he
would have received similar treatment. He requested that he be not
associated with those wretches of copyists who were willing to be
treated as slaves simply for the sake of a livelihood, and concluded
by saying that nothing that he had done would cause him to blush in
the slightest degree in the presence of Beethoven. It did not suffice
Beethoven to dismiss the man from his employ; such an outcome seemed
anticipated in the letter. He must make him feel that his incompetency
was wholly to blame and realize how contemptible he looked in the eyes
of the composer. The reference to Mozart and Haydn was particularly
galling. Beethoven read the letter and drew lines across its face from
corner to corner. Then in letters two inches long he scrawled over
the writing the words: “_Dummer, Eingebildeter, Eselhafter Kerl_”
(“Stupid, Conceited, Asinine Fellow”). That was not enough. There was
a wide margin at the bottom of the sheet, just large enough to hold
Beethoven’s next ebullition: “Compliments for such a good-for-nothing,
who pilfers one’s money?--better to pull his asinine ears!” Then
he turned the sheet over. A whole page invited him--and he filled
it, margins and all. “Dirty Scribbler! Stupid Fellow! Correct the
blunders which you have made in your ignorance, insolence, conceit and
stupidity--this would be more to the purpose than to try to teach me,
which is as if a _Sow_ were to try to give lessons to Minerva!” “Do YOU
do honor to Mozart and Haidn by never mentioning their names.” “It was
decided yesterday and even before then _not to have you write any more_
for me.”

[Sidenote: FIRST PERFORMANCES OF THE E-FLAT QUARTET]

The E-flat Quartet was now finished and about to be performed by
Schuppanzigh and his companions. Beethoven was greatly concerned about
the outcome and, as if at once to encourage and admonish them, he
drafted a document in which all pledged themselves to do their best
and sent it to them for signature. They obeyed, Linke adding to his
name the words: “The Grand Master’s accursed violoncello.” and Holz:
“The last--but only in signing.” The performance took place on March
6, and the result was disappointing. The music was not understood
either by the players or the public and was all but ineffective.
Schuppanzigh was held responsible and his patience must have been
severely taxed by Beethoven’s upbraidings and his determination to
have an immediate repetition by other players. Schuppanzigh defended
himself as vigorously as possible and was particularly vexed because
Beethoven cited his brother’s opinion of the performance--that of a
musical ignoramus. He wanted to play the Quartet a second time, but
told Beethoven that he had no objections to the work being handed over
to Böhm; yet he protested with no little energy, that the fault of the
fiasco was not his individually, as Beethoven had been told. He could
easily master the technical difficulties, but it was hard to arrive at
the spirit of the work: the _ensemble_ was faulty, because of this fact
and too few rehearsals. Beethoven decided that the next hearing should
be had from Böhm, and though Schuppanzigh had acquiesced, he harbored
a grievance against the composer for some time. Böhm had been leader
of the quartet concerts in Vienna during Schuppanzigh’s long absence.
He has left an account of the incident, in which he plainly says that
Schuppanzigh’s attitude toward the work was not sympathetic and that
he had wearied of the rehearsals, wherefore at the performance it made
but a _succès d’estime_. Beethoven sent for him (Böhm) and curtly said:
“You must play my Quartet”--and the business was settled; objections,
questionings, doubts were of no avail against Beethoven’s will. The
Quartet was newly studied under Beethoven’s own eyes, a circumstance
which added to the severity of the rehearsals, for, though he could not
hear a tone, Beethoven watched the players keenly and detected even the
slightest variation in tempo or rhythm from the movement of the bows.
Böhm tells a story in illustration of this:

At the close of the last movement of the quartet there occurred
a _meno vivace_,[126] which seemed to me to weaken the general
effect. At the rehearsal, therefore, I advised that the original
tempo be maintained, which was done, to the betterment of the
effect. Beethoven, crouched in a corner, heard nothing, but watched
with strained attention. After the last stroke of the bows he said,
laconically “Let it remain so,” went to the desks and crossed out
the _meno vivace_ in the four parts.

The Quartet was played twice by Böhm and his fellows at a morning
concert in a coffee-house in the Prater, late in March or early in
April, and was enthusiastically received. Steiner, who had attended
one or more of the rehearsals, was particularly enraptured by it and
at once offered to buy it for publication for 60 ducats--a fact which
Beethoven did not fail to report to Schott and Sons when he sent the
manuscript to them. Subsequently Mayseder also played it at a private
concert in the house of Dembscher, an official or agent of the war
department of the Austrian Government, and this performance Holz
described as a _réparation d’honneur_. Beethoven was now completely
satisfied and, no doubt, went to work on its successor with a contented
mind.

[Sidenote: KARL HOLZ SUPPLANTS SCHINDLER]

It is now become necessary to pay attention to the new friend of
Beethoven whose name has been mentioned--the successor of Schindler,
as he had been of Oliva, in the office of factotum in ordinary. This
was Karl Holz, a young man (he was born in 1798) who occupied a post
in the States’ Chancellary of Lower Austria. He had studied music with
Glöggl in Linz and was so capable a violinist that, on Schuppanzigh’s
return from Russia in 1823, he became second in the latter’s quartet.
He seems to have come into closer contact with Beethoven early in the
spring of 1825, probably when, having to conduct a performance of the
B-flat Symphony at a concert in the Ridotto Room, he asked an audience
of the composer in order that he might get the _tempi_ for that work.
Though not a professional musician, he gave music lessons, later
occasionally conducted the _Concerts spirituels_ and eventually became
the regular director of these affairs. Emboldened by the kindness
with which he was first received he gradually drew nearer to the
composer and in August, 1825, an intimate friendship seems imminent,
as is indicated by Beethoven’s remark in a letter to his nephew: “It
seems as if Holz might become a friend.” He was good at figures, a
quality which made him particularly serviceable to Beethoven (who was
woefully deficient in arithmetic)[127] at a time when he was dealing
with foreign publishers and there was great confusion in money values
and rates of exchange. He was also a well-read man, a clever talker,
musically cultured, a cheery companion, and altogether an engaging
person. All these qualities, no less than the fact that he was strong
and independent in his convictions and fearless in his proclamation
of them, recommended him to Beethoven, and he does not seem to have
hesitated to take advantage of the fact that he entered the inner
circle of Beethoven’s companions at a time when the composer had begun
to feel a growing antipathy to Schindler. He promptly embraced the
opportunity which his willing usefulness brought him, to draw close to
the great man, to learn of him and also to exhibit himself to the world
as his confidential friend. He was not obsequious, and this pleased
Beethoven despite the fact that he himself was not indisposed to play
upon his friends for his own purposes “like instruments,” as he himself
once confessed. In a short time Holz made himself indispensable and
acquired great influence over the composer. He aided him in the copying
of his works, looked into the affairs of Nephew Karl and reported upon
them, advised him in his correspondence, and directed his finances at
a time when he was more than ordinarily desirous to acquire money so
that he might leave a competency on his death to his foster-son. In
time Beethoven came to entrust weighty matters to his decision, even
the choice of publishers and his dealings with them. His prepossessing
address, heightened by his independence of speech, made it less easy
to contradict him than Schindler. Moreover, the recorded conversations
show that he was witty, that he had a wider outlook on affairs than
Beethoven’s other musical advisers, that his judgments were quickly
reached and unhesitatingly pronounced. His speeches are not free from
frivolity nor always from flattery, but he lived at a time and among
a people accustomed to extravagant compliments and there can be no
doubt of his reverence for Beethoven’s genius. Beethoven could endure
a monstrous deal of lip-service, as all his friends knew, and surely
took no offence when Holz said to him: “I am no flatterer, but I assure
you that the mere thought of Beethovenian music makes me glad, first of
all, that I am alive!”

We owe much of our knowledge of the relations between Beethoven and
Holz to Schindler’s statements as they appear in his biography,[128]
two articles which appeared in the “Kölnische Zeitung” in 1845, and
among the glosses on the Conversation Book. But many of his utterances
show ill-feeling, which it is not unfair to trace to a jealousy dating
back to the time when Holz crowded Beethoven’s “Secretary _sans_
salary” out of Beethoven’s service and good graces. There was no open
rupture between Beethoven and Schindler, but a feeling of coolness and
indifference which grew with the advancement of the younger man in the
favor of the composer. There is considerably more to be read between
Schindler’s lines than on their surface, and because of their personal
equation they ought to be received with caution. True, he does not deny
that Holz was possessed of excellent artistic capacities, that he was
well educated and entirely respectable as a man. He describes him as a
prime specimen of the Viennese “Phæacians” of whom Beethoven was wont
to speak with supreme contempt; and there is ample evidence that Holz
was indeed given to the pleasures which Beethoven attributed to the
denizens of Scheria. But the results of Beethoven’s fellowship with a
cheery companion were certainly not so great as Schindler says, nor so
evil and grievous as he intimates. His earlier insinuation, that in
order to exhibit his influence to the public Holz led Beethoven into
company and practices which he would otherwise have avoided, among
them to the frequenting of taverns and to excessive wine-bibbing, were
subsequently developed into an accusation that Holz had spread a
report that the composer had contracted dropsy from vinous indulgence.
Beethoven was accustomed to drink wine from youth up, and also to
the companionship which he found in the inns and coffee houses of
Vienna, which are not to be confounded with the groggeries with which
straitlaced Americans and Englishmen are prone to associate the words.
It was, moreover, undoubtedly a charitable act to drag him out of his
isolation into cheerful company. We know that he was so accustomed to
take wine at his meals that his physicians found it difficult to make
him obey their prohibition of wine and heating spices when he was ill;
but that he was more given to wine-drinking in 1825 and 1826 than at
any other period, we learn only from Schindler, whose credibility as
a witness on this point is impeached by the fact that, as he himself
confesses, he seldom saw Beethoven between March 1825 and August 1826.
Nor is it true, as Schindler asserts, that Beethoven’s habits now
cost him the loss of old friendships. On the contrary, it was in this
period that the cordial relations between him and Stephan von Breuning,
which had been interrupted many years before, were restored and became
peculiarly warm. Czerny told Jahn that Beethoven’s hypochondria led to
many estrangements; but when he was ill, Count Lichnowsky, Haslinger
and Piringer were visitors at his bedside, and not even Schindler
seems to have been able to name a man whose sympathy the composer had
sacrificed. His life was solitary; but not more than it had been for
years.[129] In Gerhard von Breuning’s recollections, as recorded in
“Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause,” there is scarcely a mention of Holz and
none at all of the dangers into which Beethoven is alleged to have been
led by him.

Beethoven’s letters bear witness to the fond regard in which he held
him. His name, which in German signifies wood and in the literature
of the church also cross, provided Beethoven with a welcome chance to
indulge his extravagant fondness for punning. Thus in the composer’s
jovial address-book, not distinguished by reverence for anything sacred
or profane, Holz becomes “Best Mahoghany,” “Best Splinter from the
Cross of Christ,” “Best _lignum crucis_.” The tone of the letters is
always respectful, and once he begs his friend to forget an undescribed
happening. Holz had his entire confidence, and when the great
catastrophe of 1826 came, Holz was the strongest prop upon which he
leaned. Schindler says that Beethoven was godfather to Holz’s child,
but that is plainly an error; Holz was married in the early winter of
1826, only three or four months before Beethoven’s death. The extent to
which he had won Beethoven’s confidence and Beethoven’s high opinion of
his character and ability are attested by the following document, which
was signed only a short time after the intimacy began:

[Sidenote: HOLZ AUTHORIZED TO WRITE A BIOGRAPHY]

With pleasure I give my friend, Karl Holz, the assurance which
has been asked of me, that I consider him competent to write my
eventual biography, assuming that such a thing should be desired,
and I repose in him the fullest confidence that he will give to the
world without distortion all that I have communicated to him for
this purpose.

Vienna, August 30, 1826.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

There can be no question as to the sincerity of the desire which finds
utterance in this declaration. It was made in the midst of a period
when Holz was of incalculable service to him, and he had every reason
to believe that Holz had both the ability and the disposition to write
the truthful, unvarnished account of his life which he wanted the world
to have. Schindler says that he subsequently changed his mind, said
that the document was the result of a surprise sprung upon him in the
confusion of occurrences, and asked von Breuning to request Holz to
return it. Breuning declined to do so, says Schindler, and Beethoven,
not having courage himself to make the request, contented himself with
doubting the validity of a paper which was written only in pencil.
On his deathbed, Schindler continues,[130] Beethoven, in answer to a
question directly put to him by Breuning, unhesitatingly declared that
Rochlitz was his choice as biographer; and at a later date, realizing
that death was approaching, he requested Breuning and Schindler to
gather up his papers, make such use of them as could be done in strict
truth, and to write to Rochlitz. Two months after Beethoven had passed
away Breuning followed him, and Schindler was left alone to fulfil the
composer’s wish. He wrote to Rochlitz, who regretfully declined the
pious task on the ground that the state of his health did not permit
him to undertake so large a work. Thereupon Schindler let the matter
rest, waiting for time and circumstances to determine the course which
he should follow.

Stephan von Breuning had informed his brother-in-law, Dr. Wegeler, of
Beethoven’s charge with reference to the papers, and Wegeler had sent
Schindler notes on Beethoven’s boyhood years and his life in Bonn.
In 1833 Schindler visited Wegeler in Coblenz and consulted with him
about the biography which, as Wegeler knew, Rochlitz had been asked,
but declined, to write. Wegeler thereupon suggested that Schindler,
he and Ferdinand Ries collaborate in the writing. Ries was consulted
and agreed, but work had scarcely been begun before differences arose
between Schindler and Ries as to the propriety of giving to the world
matters which Schindler (who insisted that Ries was paying a grudge
which he owed his erstwhile teacher) thought of no interest or too
offensive for publication. Ries contended that to tell the whole truth
about great men was right and could do them no injury. Schindler says
he then persuaded Wegeler to continue the collaboration without Ries,
but, delays resulting from correspondence with persons in Vienna,
Wegeler became impatient and in October, 1844,[131] announced that his
notes were about to be published. They did not appear, however, and
Schindler tried again to work in company with Ries; but the latter
persisted in his purpose, and the project fell through a second time.
This was in 1837, and the next year, shortly after Ries’s sudden
death, appeared the “Biographische Notizen über Ludwig van Beethoven”
by Wegeler and Ries. In the remarks with which the men prefaced their
reminiscences there is no reference to the projected collaboration
described by Schindler, nor can it truthfully be said that anything in
Ries’s observations bears out Schindler’s charge that he felt a grudge
against Beethoven and sought to feed it by telling unpleasant truths
about him.

To continue the story of these early biographies: Schindler now
asked counsel of Dr. Bach, who advised him to betake himself to the
task of writing the life of Beethoven alone. He did so, and his book
appeared in 1840. Holz never made use of the _imprimatur_ which he
had received from Beethoven, but in 1843 formally relinquished his
authorization to Dr. Gassner, of Carlsruhe, promising to deliver all
the material which he held into his hands and to use his influence in
the procurement of dates from authentic sources, “so that the errors
in the faulty biographies which have appeared up to the present time
may be corrected.” That this was a fling at Schindler’s book is evident
from a document[132] in which, on November 1, 1845, Holz, at that time
director of the _Concerts spirituels_ in Vienna, declares that the
forthcoming biography (by Gassner) would “not derive its dates from
_fictitious_ or _stolen_ conversation books, and _unsophisticated_
evidence will also give more intimate information about Mr.
Schindler.” Twice did Schindler attack Holz in the “Kölnische Zeitung”
in 1845 and once, it would appear, Holz answered him, but anonymously.
The subject need not be continued here, however; it has a bearing only
on the credibility of the two men in the discussion of each other.
Gassner’s biography never appeared.

Perhaps it was characteristic of Beethoven, and also of the friends who
came to his help in need, that though Schindler had been written down
in his bad books before Holz established himself in his confidence,
and though there was never a serious estrangement between Beethoven
and Holz, it was Schindler upon whom Beethoven leaned most strongly
for help when the days of physical dissolution arrived--Schindler, not
Holz. The latter’s devotion had either undergone a cooling process or
been interfered with by his newly assumed domestic obligations. But
Schindler’s statement that he was “dismissed” in December, 1826, is an
exaggeration, to say the least; Beethoven wrote him a letter a month
before he died, asking his help in collecting money from the Archduke.
Holz died on November 9, 1858. He had been helpful to Otto Jahn when
the latter was gathering material for a life of Beethoven.[133]

[Sidenote: STRICT PHYSICIANS AND AN UNRULY PATIENT]

The E-flat Quartet had been successfully brought forward, a pause had
been reached in the correspondence with Schott and Sons and Neate, a
summer home for Beethoven was in prospect, and considerable progress
had been made in the draft for a new quartet designed for Prince
Galitzin, when an illness befell Beethoven which kept him within
doors, and for a portion of the time in bed, from about the middle of
April to the beginning of May, 1825. Beethoven had been told by his
physician that he was in danger of an inflammation of the bowels, and
as such Beethoven described his ailment in letters to his brother and
to Schott and Sons. Dr. Staudenheimer had been in attendance on him
before and had insisted upon strict obedience to his prescriptions.
Beethoven now called in Dr. Braunhofer, who proved to be even less
considerate of the patient’s wilfulness; he was so blunt and forceful
in his demands for obedience that Beethoven was somewhat awed, and
beneficial results followed. Were it possible for the readers of these
pages who are curious on such subjects to consult the Conversation
Books of this period, they would there find interesting information as
to diagnosis and treatment in the case of the distinguished patient.
Dr. Braunhofer did not want to “torment” Beethoven long with medicines,
but he gave orders for a strict diet. “No wine; no coffee; no spices of
any kind. I’ll arrange matters with the cook.”--“Patience, a sickness
does not disappear in a day.” “I shall not trouble you much longer
with medicine, but you must adhere to the diet; you’ll not starve on
it.” “You must do some work in the daytime so that you can sleep at
night. If you want to get entirely well and live a long time, you must
live according to nature. You are very liable to inflammatory attacks
and were close to a severe attack of inflammation of the bowels; the
predisposition is still in your body. I’ll wager that if you take
a drink of spirits you’ll be lying weak and exhausted on your back
inside of an hour.” The doctor inspired him with courage and hope, and
admonished him to keep quiet and be patient. In dry weather he was to
take walks, but even after going to Baden he must take no baths so long
as the weather remained damp and symptoms of his illness remained.

Beethoven went to Baden early in May and probably within a week of his
arrival he reported his condition to Dr. Braunhofer in a semi-humorous
manner by writing down a dialogue between doctor and patient in which
the latter suggests desired changes in his treatment. He asks for
something strengthening to help him get to his desk, thinks that he
might be permitted to drink white wine and water, as the “mephitic
beer” revolts him; he is still very weak, expectorates blood freely
“probably from the bronchial tubes,” etc. The physician had asked for
a few notes written by his own hand as a souvenir. Beethoven complies
with the request by sending him a canon written while taking a walk
on May 11. It looks like a sign of mingled apprehension and returning
spirits:

[Illustration:

Doktor sperrt das Thor dem Tod, Note hilft auch aus der Noth.
Close the door ’gainst Death, I plead, Doctor, notes will help in
need.
]

On May 17, he reports to his nephew that he is beginning to do
considerable work.

[Sidenote: LUDWIG RELLSTAB VISITS BEETHOVEN]

It was while Beethoven was ill in Vienna that Ludwig Rellstab made
several visits to him, of which he has left enthusiastic reports.[134]
He was 26 years old at the time and had made a mark as essayist and
poet; the chief object of his journey to Vienna from Berlin, on
which he set out on March 21, was to see the composer. He reached
the Austrian capital in the last days of March or the first days of
April. His account of the meeting is like many others except that
it is written with literary elegance, albeit with that excessive
fervor, that _Überschwänglichkeit_, which is characteristic of German
hero-worshippers. Zelter had given him a letter of introduction and
had written that Rellstab wanted to write the libretto of an opera to
be set by the composer, and this was the first subject broached after
Beethoven had warmly greeted his visitor and expressed delight with
Zelter’s letter. Beethoven is pleased at the prospect of getting an
opera-book from Rellstab:

It is so difficult to get a good poem. Grillparzer promised me
one. He has already made one for me but we can not come to an
understanding with each other. I want one thing, he wants another.
You’ll have trouble with me!... I care little what genre the works
belong to, so the material be attractive to me. But it must be
something which I can take up with sincerity and love. I could not
compose operas like “Don Juan” and “Figaro.” They are repugnant to
me. I could not have chosen such subjects; they are too frivolous
for me!

Rellstab had had it in mind to write an opera-book for Weber and
had pondered over many subjects, and he now gave a list of these to
Beethoven--“Attila,” “Antigone,” “Belisarius,” “Orestes” and others.
Beethoven read the names thoughtfully and then apologized for the
trouble he was causing his visitor. Rellstab, seeing an expression
of weariness in his face, took his departure, after saying that he
would send him a specimen of his handiwork. In a Conversation Book
used in the middle of April there is further talk between Rellstab and
Beethoven about opera, but the notes, which are fragmentary, give no
indications of Beethoven’s views. The most interesting incident of the
meetings occurred at a subsequent visit. Rellstab had told that he had
been deeply moved (he dared not express a more specific opinion on the
subject, being in doubt himself) by the Quartet in E-flat, which he had
heard performed twice in succession.[135] He continues:

Beethoven read and remained silent; we looked at each other mutely,
but a world of emotions surged in my breast. Beethoven, too,
was unmistakably moved. He arose and went to the window, where
he remained standing beside the pianoforte. To see him so near
the instrument gave me an idea which I had never before dared to
harbor. If he--Oh! he needed only to turn half way around and he
would be facing the keyboard--if he would but sit down and give
expression to his feelings in tones! Filled with a timid, blissful
hope, I approached him and laid my hand upon the instrument. It
was an English pianoforte by Broadwood. I struck a chord lightly
with my right hand in order to induce Beethoven to turn around;
but he seemed not to have heard it. A few moments later, however,
he turned to me, and, seeing my eyes fixed upon the instrument he
said: “That is a beautiful pianoforte! I got it as a present from
London. Look at these names.” He pointed to the cross-beam over
the keyboard. There I saw several names which I had not before
noticed--Moscheles, Kalkbrenner, Cramer, Clementi, Broadwood
himself.... “That is a beautiful gift,” said Beethoven looking at
me, “and it has such a beautiful tone,” he continued and moved his
hands towards the keys without taking his eyes off me. He gently
struck a chord. Never again will one enter my soul so poignant,
so heartbreaking as that one was! He struck C major with the
right hand and B as a bass in the left, and continued his gaze
uninterruptedly on me, repeated the false chord several times in
order to let the sweet tone of the instrument reverberate; and the
greatest musician on earth did not hear the dissonance! Whether or
not Beethoven noticed his mistake I do not know; but when he turned
his head from me to the instrument he played a few chords correctly
and then stopped. That was all that I heard from him directly.

Rellstab had planned a short excursion to Hungary and then intended to
leave Vienna for his home. Fearful that he might not see Beethoven on
his return to the city he went to him to say farewell:

Beethoven spoke very frankly and with feeling. I expressed
my regret that in all the time of my sojourn in Vienna I had
heard, except one of his symphonies and a quartet, not a single
composition of his in concert; why had “Fidelio” not been given?
This gave him an opportunity to express himself on the subject of
the taste of the Vienna people. “Since the Italians (Barbaja) have
gotten such a strong foothold here the best has been crowded out.
For the nobility, the chief thing at the theatre is the ballet.
Nothing can be said about their appreciation of art; they have
sense only for horses and dancers. We have always had this state
of things. But this gives me no concern; I want only to write that
which gives me joy. If I were well it would be all the same to me!”

On his departure Beethoven, who had been absent from his lodgings when
Rellstab called for his final leavetaking, sent him a letter to Steiner
and Co., containing a canon on the words from Matthison’s “Opferlied”
of which he had made use on at least one earlier occasion (“Das Schöne
zu dem Guten”).

[Sidenote: AN UTTERANCE ON ECCLESIASTICAL MUSIC]

Karl Gottfried Freudenberg, a young musician who afterwards became
Head Organist at Breslau and wrote a book of reminiscences entitled
“Erinnerungen eines alten Organisten,” visited Beethoven in July of the
year and has left a record which is none the less interesting because
its lack of literary flourish is offset by succinct reports of the
great composer’s estimate of some of his contemporaries, and his views
on ecclesiastical music. Beethoven, according to Freudenberg, described
Rossini as a “talented and a melodious composer; his music suits the
frivolous and sensuous spirit of the time, and his productivity is
such that he needs only as many weeks as the Germans do years to
write an opera.” He said of Spontini: “There is much good in him;
he understands theatrical effects and the musical noises of warfare
thoroughly”; of Spohr: “He is too rich in dissonances, pleasure in his
music is marred by his chromatic melody”; of Bach: “His name ought not
to be Bach (brook) but Ocean, because of his infinite and inexhaustible
wealth of combinations and harmonies. He was the ideal of an organist.”
This led Beethoven into the subject of music for the church. “I, too,
played the organ a great deal in my youth,” he said, “but my nerves
could not stand the power of the gigantic instrument. I place an
organist who is master of his instrument, first among virtuosi.” Pure
church music, he remarked, ought to be performed only by voices, unless
the text be a _Gloria_ or something of the kind. For this reason he
preferred Palestrina to all other composers of church music, but it
was folly to imitate him unless one had his genius and his religious
beliefs; moreover, it was practically impossible for singers to-day to
sing the long-sustained notes of this music in a cantabile manner.

Karl August Reichardt, afterwards Court Organist in Altenburg, S.
M. de Boer, a member of the Academy of Fine Arts in Amsterdam, Carl
Czerny, Friedrich Kuhlau, Sir George Smart and Moritz Schlesinger were
among the visitors to Baden in the summer to whose meetings with the
composer the Conversation Books bear always interesting and sometimes
diverting witness. Reichardt’s visit seems to have been brief, and it
is safe to presume that the young man received scant encouragement to
remain long, for his talk was chiefly about himself, his desire to get
advice as to a good teacher and to have Beethoven look at some of his
music. The man from Holland, who probably had used his predicate as a
member of the Academy which had elected Beethoven an honorary member
to gain an audience, must have diverted the composer with his broken
German, which looks no more comical in the Conversation Book than it
must have sounded; but a canon without words which he carried away
with him may be said to bear witness to the fact that he made a good
impression on Beethoven, to whom he gave information concerning the
state of music in the Dutch country. Czerny, apparently, was urged
by his erstwhile teacher to get an appointment and to compose in the
larger forms. Beethoven was curious to learn how much Czerny received
for his compositions and Czerny told him that he attached no importance
to his pieces, because he scribbled them down so easily, and that he
took music from the publishers in exchange.

The visit of the Danish composer, flautist and director, Friedrich
Kuhlau, led to a right merry feast, for a description of which
Seyfried found a place in the appendix of his “Studien.” That the
boundaries of nice taste in conversation and story-telling may have
been strained a bit is an inference from the fact that several pages
of the Conversation Book containing the recorded relics of the affair
are missing. After a promenade through the Helenenthal in which
Beethoven amused himself by setting all manner of difficult tasks in
hill-climbing, the party sat down to dinner at an inn. Champagne flowed
freely, and after the return to Beethoven’s lodgings red Vöslauer,
brought from his closet or cellar, did its share still further to
elevate the spirits of the feasters. Beethoven seems to have held his
own in the van of the revel. Kuhlau improvised a canon on B-a-c-h, to
which Beethoven replied with the same notes as an opening motive and
the words “Kühl, nicht lau” (“Cool, not lukewarm”)--a feeble play on
the Danish musician’s name, but one which served to carry the music.
Beethoven wrote his canon in the Conversation Book. The next day Kuhlau
confessed to Schlesinger that he did not know how he had gotten home
and to bed: Beethoven’s post-festal reflections may be gathered from
the letter which accompanied a copy of the canon which he sent to
Kuhlau by the hands of Holz:

Baden, September 3, 1825.

I must admit that the champagne went too much to my head also,
yesterday, and that I was compelled again to make the experience
that such things retard rather than promote my capacities; for easy
as it generally is for me to meet a challenge on the instant, I do
not at all remember what I wrote yesterday.

In handing over letter and canon to Holz for delivery he wrote to him
that he had scarcely reached home before it occurred to him that he
might have made a dreadful mess of it on the day before.

[Sidenote: A GARRULOUS PARISIAN PUBLISHER]

Schlesinger, of Paris, son of the Berlin publisher, was a very
insistent as well as persistent courtier, with an auspicious eye to
business at all times. He wanted to purchase the two new quartets
and did succeed in getting one of them, and he aroused Beethoven’s
suspicions by the pertinacity with which he pleaded for permission to
attend a rehearsal of the second; the pride of the composer revolted,
evidently, at the thought that a publisher should ask to hear a work of
his which he purposed buying. But Schlesinger, who had Nephew Karl as
his advocate at court in all things, made it appear that he was eager
only for the inestimable privilege of hearing the new works of the
master, and put in a plea that he might also hear the Quartet which
had already been sold to Schott and Sons. Holz discloses a distrust
of him very plainly and misses no occasion to warn Beethoven against
entangling alliances with the Parisian publisher. Schlesinger wins his
way to a very familiar footing with Beethoven, going so far once as
to ask him if a report which he had heard that Beethoven had wanted
to marry the pianist, Cibbini, was true.[136] The old page does not
tell us what answer Beethoven gave, but Schlesinger, who had disclosed
his own heartwounds and railed against the fair sex because of his
experiences, tells the composer that he shall be the first to make the
bride’s acquaintance should he ever get married. Schlesinger appears
desirous to become a sort of dealer _en gros_ in Beethoven’s products;
he would like the two new Quartets (in A minor and B-flat major); he
will publish a Complete Edition and begin with the chamber pieces, to
which ends he wants still another quartet and three quintets; he seeks
to awaken a literary ambition in the writer of notes--the journal
published by the Schlesingers in Berlin will be glad to republish
whatever Beethoven may write to the Mayence journal about the joke on
Haslinger, and Beethoven ought really to write some essays--on what a
symphony and an overture ought to be and on the art of fugue, of which
he was now the sole repository. He knows how to approach genius on
its most susceptible side. Beethoven must go to England, where he is
so greatly admired; he reports that Cherubini had said to his pupils
at the Conservatoire in Paris: “The greatest musical minds that ever
lived or ever will live, are Beethoven and Mozart.” At dinner, at the
suggestion of the same garrulous talker, the company drink the healths
of Goethe and Cherubini. Again Schlesinger urges Beethoven to go to
London: “I repeat again that if you will go to England for three months
I will engage that, deducting your travelling expenses, you will make
1000 pounds, or 25,000 florins W. W. at least, if you give only two
concerts and produce some new music.... The Englishmen are proud enough
to count themselves fortunate if Beethoven would only be satisfied
with them.” When the toast to Cherubini is drunk, Schlesinger takes
occasion to satisfy the curiosity of Beethoven touching the status of
the composer whom he most admired among living men.

Cherubini has now received the title of Baron from the government
as well as the order of the Legion of Honor. It is a proof
of the recognition of his talent, for he did not seek it.
Napoleon, who appreciated him highly, once found fault with one
of his compositions and Cherubini retorted: “Your Majesty knows
no more about it than I about a battle.” Napoleon’s conduct
was contemptible. Because of the words that I have quoted he
took away all of Cherubini’s offices and he had nothing to
live on. Nevertheless, he did an infinite amount of good for
popular culture. If Napoleon, instead of becoming an insatiable
world-conqueror, had remained First Consul, he would have been one
of the greatest men that ever existed.

Schlesinger had his way about hearing the new Quartet (in A minor, Op.
132), for it was rehearsed at his rooms on Wednesday, September 7,
preparatory to the performance, which was to take place at the tavern
“Zum wilden Mann” at noon on September 9. Beethoven wanted the players
to come to him at Baden for the final rehearsal, but that was found
to be impracticable. On the day after the meeting at Schlesinger’s,
however, Holz went out to Beethoven to tell him all about it. He
reported that Wolfmayr “at the _Adagio_ wept like a child?” and that
“Tobias scratched himself behind the ears when he heard the Quartet; he
certainly regrets that the Jew Steiner did not take it.”

We have an account of the performance at the “Wilden Mann” from
the English visitor whom Beethoven received at this time. This
was Sir George Smart, who, in the summer of 1825, made a tour of
Germany in company with Charles Kemble. He was with Mr. Kemble when
that gentleman made the agreement with Weber for “Oberon,” but his
“principal reason for the journey,” as he himself put it, “was to
ascertain from Beethoven himself the exact times of the movements of
his characteristic--and some of his other--Sinfonias.”[137] Sir George
recorded the incidents of his meetings with Beethoven in his journal,
from which the following excerpts are taken:

[Sidenote: SIR GEORGE SMART’S JOURNAL]

On the 7th of September, at nine in the morning, I called on
Mayseder, who received me most politely.... We conversed about
Beethoven’s Choral Symphony; our opinion agrees about it. When
it was performed here Umlauf conducted it and Kletrinsky and
Schuppanzigh were the leaders. All the basses played in the
recitative, but they had the story that it was written for
Dragonetti only.

Friday, September 9th.--We then went to Mecchetti’s music shop,
they, too, are publishers, and bought three pieces for Birchall....
Mr. Holz, an amateur in some public office and a good violin
player, came in and said Beethoven had come from Baden this morning
and would be at his nephew’s--Karl Beethoven, a young man aged
twenty--No. 72 Alleegasse.... At twelve I took Ries[138] to the
hotel Wildemann,[139] the lodgings of Mr. Schlesinger, the music
seller of Paris, as I understood from Mr. Holz that Beethoven
would be there, and there I found him. He received me in the most
flattering manner. There was a numerous assembly of professors
to hear Beethoven’s second[140] new manuscript quartette, bought
by Mr. Schlesinger. This quartette is three-quarters of an hour
long. They played it twice. The four performers were Schuppanzigh,
Holz, Weiss, and Lincke. It is most chromatic and there is a
slow movement entitled “Praise for the recovery of an invalid.”
Beethoven intended to allude to himself I suppose for he was very
ill during the early part of this year. He directed the performers,
and took off his coat, the room being warm and crowded. A staccato
passage not being expressed to the satisfaction of his eye, for
alas, he could not hear, he seized Holz’s violin and played the
passage a quarter of a tone too flat. I looked over the score
during the performance. All paid him the greatest attention.
About fourteen were present, those I knew were Boehm (violin),
Marx (’cello), Carl Czerny, also Beethoven’s nephew, who is like
Count St. Antonio, so is Boehm, the violin player. The partner of
Steiner, the music seller, was also there. I fixed to go to Baden
on Sunday and left at twenty-five minutes past two.

Saturday, September 10th. I called for the music at Artaria’s for
Birchall, for which I paid, and on our return found a visiting-card
from Earl Stanhope and also from Schlesinger of Paris with a
message that Beethoven would be at his hotel to-morrow at twelve,
therefore of course I gave up going to Baden to visit Beethoven,
which he had arranged for me to do.... In the morning Mr.
Kirchoffer called to say he should invite me to his house. It was
he who, through Ries, had the arrangement of procuring the Choral
Symphony for our Philharmonic Society.

Sunday, September 11th.... From hence I went alone to
Schlesinger’s, at the “Wildemann,” where was a larger party than
the previous one. Among them was L’Abbé Stadler, a fine old man
and a good composer of the old school, to whom I was introduced.
There was also present a pupil of Moscheles, a Mademoiselle Eskeles
and a Mademoiselle Cimia [Cibbini?], whom I understood to be a
professional player. When I entered Messrs. C. Czerny, Schuppanzigh
and Lincke had just begun the Trio, Op. 70, of Beethoven, after
which the same performers played Beethoven’s Trio, Op. 79--both
printed by Steiner. Then followed Beethoven’s quartette, the same
that I had heard on September the 9th and it was played by the
same performers. Beethoven was seated near the pianoforte beating
time during the performance of these pieces. This ended, most of
the company departed, but Schlesinger invited me to stop and dine
with the following company of ten: Beethoven, his nephew, Holz,
Weiss, C. Czerny, who sat at the bottom of the table, Lincke, Jean
Sedlatzek--a flute player who is coming to England next year, and
has letters to the Duke of Devonshire, Count St. Antonio, etc.--he
has been to Italy--Schlesinger, Schuppanzigh, who sat at the top,
and myself. Beethoven calls Schuppanzigh Sir John Falstaff, not a
bad name considering the figure of this excellent violin player.

We had a most pleasant dinner, healths were given in the English
style. Beethoven was delightfully gay but hurt that, in the letter
Moscheles gave me, his name should be mixed up with the other
professors. However he soon got over it. He was much pleased and
rather surprised at seeing in the oratorio bill I gave him that the
“Mount of Olives” and his “Battle Symphony” were both performed the
same evening. He believes--I do not--that the high notes Handel
wrote for trumpets were played formerly by one particular man. I
gave him the oratorio book and bill. He invited me by his nephew to
Baden next Friday. After dinner he was coaxed to play extempore,
observing in French to me, “Upon what subject shall I play?”
Meanwhile he was touching the instrument thus

[Illustration]

to which I answered, “Upon that.” On which theme he played for
about twenty minutes in a most extraordinary manner, sometimes
very fortissimo, but full of genius.[141] When he arose at the
conclusion of his playing he appeared greatly agitated. No one
could be more agreeable than he was--plenty of jokes. We all wrote
to him by turns, but he can hear a little if you halloo quite close
to his left ear. He was very severe in his observations about the
Prince Regent never having noticed his present of the score of
his “Battle Symphony.” His nephew regretted that his uncle had no
one to explain to him the profitable engagement offered by the
Philharmonic Society last year.

Smart accepted Beethoven’s invitation to visit him at Baden on
September 16, and at this meeting accomplished the specific purpose
of his visit to Vienna by getting Beethoven to give him the tempo of
various movements from his symphonies, by playing portions of them on
the pianoforte.[142]

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S INTEREST IN ENGLISH MATTERS]

Though he had been warned not to write in Beethoven’s book, Sir
George did not, or was not always able to, obey the injunction. A
considerable portion of the conversation at the meeting is preserved
in a Conversation Book which covers three dates, September 16, 19, and
24. From this book some excerpts are made here, since they bear on the
subject which filled so large a place in the plans of Beethoven for
several years, and were in his mind up to the time of his death--the
English tour. Other matters bearing on points of history which have
been or may be mentioned, are included. The nephew has translated for
Beethoven the announcement of the Ninth Symphony as it appeared on
the programme of the Philharmonic’s concert of March 21, viz.: “New
Grand Characteristic Sinfonia, MS. with vocal finale, the principal
parts to be sung by Madame Caradori, Miss Goodall, Mr. Vaughn and Mr.
Phillips; composed expressly for this Society.” No doubt Beethoven
gave expression, as he frequently had done, to his admiration for the
English people and possibly also for their national hymn, for Karl
translates the stanza:

Long may he reign!
May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice:
God save the king!

The one-sided conversation proceeds:

_Smart._--You understand English writing?--_Extremement
bien._----Winter _me dit que on l’intention de donner Fidelio a
music_.

_Karl._--He would like to know the tempi of the finale of the last
symphony. Haven’t you it here?--

How long you worked on the symphony?--How long does it last?--1
hour and 3 minutes--3/4 hour--We are now going to take a walk.

According to Smart’s journal, Beethoven now ordered dinner “with his
funny old cook,” told his nephew to look after the wine, and the party
of five took a walk in the course of which Schuppanzigh told Smart
that it was while sketching in the open air that Beethoven caught his
deafness. “He was writing in a garden and was so absorbed that he
was not sensible of a pouring rain, till his music paper was so wet
that he could no longer write.” The story is inconsequential unless
Schuppanzigh had it from Beethoven who, as we have seen in an earlier
volume (Vol. I, p. 263 _et seq._), gave an entirely different account
of the origin of his deafness to Neate. Holz talks to Beethoven now
about Schlesinger, telling him that it was the publisher’s purpose to
print the quartets in succession, which would postpone the appearance
of the thirteenth for two years, and advises Beethoven hereafter to
make immediate publication a condition of purchase. He suggests that if
he were to threaten not to compose the quintets under the circumstances
it might help.

_Smart.--Elle est morte.--Kalkbrenner est à Paris.--Broadwood,
Stodart, Tomkinson, Clementi and Co.--Les meilleurs Pièces à vendre
à Londres sont les Duettos pour le Piano Forte.--Mais je dis pour
nous de composer à présent.--Cramer, Moscheles, Neate, Potter....
J’ai voyagé par le Rhine et par la Donau.--Je suis Protestant; le
premier chose est d’être honnête homme.... Esterhazy.--Le nom de
Capitaine, ou comme tous les autres.--On faites de badinage contre
moi en Allemagne--contre lui--moi je suis Garçon._

_Karl._--He asked why you had not come before now; he said the 300
pounds of the Philhar. Society were not be to looked upon as the
principal thing. For that you needed only to appear 2 or 3 times in
the orchestra and make money with your own concerts.--He said that
in a short time you could make at least 1000 pounds and carry it
away with you.--10,000 florins, Vienna money.--If you would only
go. The 1,000 pounds would be easily earned and more.--You can do
better business with the publishers there than here.--And you’ll
find 1,000 friends, Smarth [_sic_] says, who will do everything
to help you.--The sea fish.--In the Thames.... We’ll wait till
the year is over before going to England.... You’ll not leave
London so quickly if we are once there.--Others are living there
too, like Cramer, etc.--In two years at least 50,000 florins net.
Concerts.--I am convinced that if you were to want to go away from
here they would do everything to keep you here.

We shall let Smart conclude the story of the meeting:

On our return [from the walk] we had dinner at two o’clock. It
was a most curious one and so plentiful that dishes came in as we
came out, for, unfortunately, we were rather in a hurry to get to
the stage coach by four, it being the only one going to Vienna
that evening. I overheard Beethoven say, “We will try how much the
Englishman can drink.” _He_ had the worst of the trial. I gave
him my diamond pin as a remembrance of the high gratification I
received by the honour of his invitation and kind reception and he
wrote me the following droll canon as fast as his pen could write
in about two minutes of time as I stood at the door ready to depart.

[Illustration: Ars longa vita brevis]

“Written on the 16th of September, 1825, in Baden, when my dear
talented musical artist and friend Smart (from England) visited me
here.

Ludwig van Beethoven.”

[Sidenote: A VISITOR FROM AMERICA]

Smart left Vienna on his return journey to London on September 20.
Three months later Beethoven received a visit from one who must have
raised more curious questionings in his mind than did the brilliant
young Englishman. With Smart he had corresponded years before. Smart
had produced his oratorio and his “Wellington’s Victory” in England
and conducted the first performance in London of his Ninth Symphony;
there were direct bonds of sympathy between them. The other visitor
brought a message of appreciation from across the wide Atlantic. It
was Theodore Molt, evidently a German or a man of German birth, who,
a music teacher in Quebec, was making a European tour and gained the
privilege of telling Beethoven to his face how greatly he admired him,
then asked the favor of a souvenir which he could carry back on a
journey of “3,000 hours” as a precious keepsake. For him, on December
16, Beethoven wrote the canon, “Freu dich des Lebens” (Ges. Aus. Series
XXV, 285, 5).[143]

To this period belongs an anecdote which is almost a parallel of one
related by Zelter to Goethe. It was told[144] by Mittag, a bassoon
player who had taken part in a performance of the Septet at a concert
on December 11. Going home one evening, Mittag stepped into a tavern
known as “Zum Dachs” to drink a glass of beer. Smoking was not allowed
in the place and there were few guests. In a corner, however, sat
Beethoven in the attitude of one lost in thought. After Mittag had
watched him a few minutes he jumped up and called to the waiter: “My
bill!” “Already paid!” shrieked the waiter in his ear. Mittag, thinking
that Beethoven ought not to be left alone, followed him without
betraying himself and saw him enter his house safely.

On November 29, 1825, Beethoven was one of fifteen men elected to
honorary membership in the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde by the
directors (Cherubini, Spontini, Spohr, Catel and Weigl being among
them); the election was confirmed by the society on January 26, 1826,
but the diploma was not issued until October 26, and thus reached
Beethoven’s hands only a few months before his death. On November
25, Beethoven wrote to Schott and Sons promising to send them the
metronome marks for the Mass in D soon, telling them to print the list
of subscribers before the dedication, asking delay in the matter of the
dedication of the Ninth Symphony, and requesting that the publication
of both works be postponed three months. He gives the title of the mass
as follows:

_MISSA
Composita et
Serenissimo ac Eminentissimo Domino Domino
Rudolpho Joanni Cæsareo Principi et Archiduci Austriæ S. R. E.
Tit. S. Petri in monte aureo Cardinali Archiepiscopo Olomucensi
profundissima cum veneratione dicata_ [sic]
_a
Ludovico van Beethoven_

On the same day he wrote to Peters in Leipsic to the effect that his
recent letters had not been definite and certain. He wanted a specific
statement that the amount which he (Beethoven) had received as an
advance was 360 florins. If Peters was willing to take a quartet for
that sum he would send him one as soon as possible; if not, and he
preferred to have the money, he would return it to him. “If you had
done this at once you might have had two quartets; but you can not ask
me to be loser. If I wanted to draw the strings tighter I could ask a
larger price. I will send nothing for examination.” This, then, was
Beethoven’s ultimatum: Peters must pay 360 florins for the Quartet or
receive back the money advanced three years before. Peters asked for
the money and it was paid over to Steiner and Co., on his order on
December 7.

[Sidenote: INTIMACY WITH THE BREUNINGS RENEWED]

In the renting season of St. Michael (September 29 to October 12)
Beethoven signed a lease for lodgings in the Schwarzspanierhaus,
Alservorstadt Glacis 200. Into this, which was the last lodging
occupied by Beethoven, he moved presumably on October 15. The house,
which is fully described and pictured in Gerhard von Breuning’s book
“Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause,” derived its name from the fact that it
had been built by the Benedictines of Spain. In it Beethoven occupied
four rooms on the second floor, besides a kitchen and servant’s
quarters. One of the most important results of Beethoven’s removal to
these quarters was a reëstablishment of the intimate relations which
had existed for so many years with the friend of his youth Stephan
von Breuning, a Councillor in the War Department of the Austrian
Government, who lived hard by. Though there had been no open rupture
between him and Beethoven an estrangement had existed from the time
when von Breuning had advised against Beethoven’s assumption of the
guardianship over his nephew. They had met occasionally _ad interim_,
but it was not until they became neighbors that the intimate friendship
which had existed in earlier years was restored. A beginning in this
direction was made when, on a visit to Vienna in August, Beethoven
met the Breuning family in the street. It was necessary that changes
be made in the lodgings and while waiting for them Beethoven became
a frequent visitor at the Breunings, dining with them frequently and
sometimes sending them a mess of fish, of which he was very fond.
Madame von Breuning meanwhile looked after the fitting out of his
kitchen and saw to the engagement of his servants. Concerning the
relations which existed between Beethoven and her father’s family,
Marie, a daughter of Stephan von Breuning, wrote many years after:[145]

My mother once met Beethoven when on her way to the Kaiserbad
on the Danube; he accompanied her for the rather long distance
from the Rothes Haus, where she lived. She spent about an hour in
the bath-house (the bath being a warm one) and on coming out was
surprised to find Beethoven waiting to accompany her home. She
often said that he was always gallant towards women and had paid
court to her for a while.

She related, too, that his animated gestures, his loud voice and
his indifference towards others surprised the people in the street,
and that she was often ashamed because they stopped and took him
for a madman. His laugh was particularly loud and ringing.

My mother often and repeatedly deplored the fact that she had never
heard him play--but my father, in his unbounded tenderness, always
replied when she expressed a desire to hear him: “He doesn’t like
to do it, and I do not want to ask him because it might pain him
not to hear himself.”

Beethoven repeatedly invited my mother to coffee, or, as the
Viennese say, _zur Jause_; but my mother almost always declined, as
his domestic arrangements did not appear altogether appetizing.

My mother often said to my father that Beethoven’s habit of
expectorating in the room, his neglected clothing and his
extravagant behavior were not particularly attractive. My father
always replied: “And yet he has a great deal of success, especially
with women.”

Beethoven often told my mother that he longed greatly for domestic
happiness and much regretted that he had never married.

Beethoven was fond of Stephan von Breuning’s son Gerhard, whom,
because of his attachment to his father, he dubbed _Hosen-knopf_
(Trousers-button) and because of his lightness of foot _Ariel_. He once
had the boy play for him, criticized the position of his hands and sent
him Clementi’s Method as preferable to Czerny’s which the lad was using.

There can be no doubt that the renewed association with von Breuning
frequently turned his thoughts to his old home and his boyhood friends
in the Rhine country, and his delight must have been keen when in this
year, he received letters from Wegeler, whom he had not seen since
he left Vienna twenty-eight years before, and his wife, who had been
Eleonore von Breuning. They were tender letters, full of information
about their family, each other, friends and relations--real home
letters telling of births, marriages, careers and deaths. One would
think that they ought to have been answered at once, but Beethoven did
not find time or occasion to write a reply until the next year, despite
this obvious challenge in Dr. von Wegeler’s letter:

Why did you not avenge the honor of your mother when, in the
Encyclopædia, and in France, you were set down as a love-child? The
Englishman who tried to defend you gave the filth a cuff, as we say
in Bonn, and let your mother carry you in her womb 30 years, since
the King of Prussia, your alleged father, died already in 1740--an
assertion which was altogether wrong since Frederick II ascended
the throne in 1740 and did not die till 1786. Only your inborn
dread of having anything but music of yours published is, probably,
the cause of this culpable indolence. If you wish it I will set the
world right in this matter.

[Sidenote: THE LAST STRING QUARTETS]

The great contributions which Beethoven made to music in the year 1825,
were the Quartets in A minor, Op. 132 and in B-flat major, Op. 130,
which were composed in the order here mentioned; but the second, being
published before its companion, received the earlier opus number. The A
minor Quartet was the second of the three which Beethoven composed on
invitation of Prince Galitzin, the first being that in E-flat, Op. 127,
the third that in B-flat. It was taken up immediately on the completion
of the E-flat Quartet. In March Beethoven had written to Neate that
the first of the three quartets which he thought of bringing with him
to London was written, that he was at work on the second and that it
and the third would be finished “soon.” On the same day he wrote to
Schott and Sons: “The violin quartets are in hand; the second is nearly
finished.” The sketches of the A minor (as established by Nottebohm)
date back to 1824. The work was originally to have the customary four
movements; labor on it was interrupted by the illness of April and
then the plan was changed to include the “Song of Thanksgiving in
the Lydian mode,” the short march before the last movement, and the
minuet. The work was finished by August at the latest. The passage in
eighth-notes in the second part of the first movement is practically
a quotation from one of the German dances written for the Ridotto
balls fully thirty years before, with the bar-lines shifted so
that the change of harmony occurs on the up-beats of the measures.
In a Conversation Book used in May or June, 1825, Beethoven wrote
_Dankeshimne eines Kranken an Gott bei seiner Genesung. Gefühl neuer
Kraft und wiedererwachtes Gefühl_ (“Hymn of Thanksgiving to God of an
Invalid on his Convalescence. Feeling of new strength and reawakened
feeling”). In the original score this was changed to the reading:
“Sacred Song of Thanksgiving of a Convalescent to the Divinity, in
the Lydian Mode. N. B. This piece has always B instead of B-flat.” As
has already been mentioned in the history of the Ninth Symphony, the
principal theme of the last movement was originally conceived for the
finale of that work. The B-flat Quartet was begun early in the year, as
the letters to Neate and Schott indicate. On August 29, Beethoven wrote
to his nephew that it would be wholly finished in ten or twelve days.
In November he himself writes in the Conversation Book: “Title for the
Quartet,” and a strange hand adds: “_31ème Quatuor. Pour deux Violons,
Viola et Violoncello composé aux désirs de S. A. Monseigneur le Prince
Nicolas Galitzin et dédié au même_,” to which Beethoven adds: “par L.
v. B.” The Quartet, though more than half-promised to Schlesinger, who
got the A minor Quartet, was sold to Artaria, and in January, 1826,
Holz writes, “The Quartet will be printed at once; thus the third
Quartet will appear before the first two.” This was the case, which
accounts for the incorrect numbering of them. It had its first public
performance in March, 1826. The Fugue in B-flat, Op. 133, originally
formed the finale of the work but was put aside after the first
performance and the present finale, which was composed in Gneixendorf
in 1826, was substituted.

After securing the A minor Quartet and an assurance that he should
also have that in B-flat (he had offered to deposit 80 ducats with a
Viennese banker against its completion and delivery and Beethoven had
accepted his offer), Schlesinger said that he would purchase the first
of the three Quartets from Schott and Sons so as to have all three
for his Complete Edition. Karl, in reporting the fact to Beethoven,
expressed his belief that the Schotts would sell for fear that if they
did not Schlesinger would reprint the work in Paris without permission.
The latter made a strenuous effort to get the autograph score of
the A minor, but had perforce to content himself with a copy. Holz
represented to Beethoven that the autograph would be an asset for Karl
in the future, and Karl was of the same opinion; he supported Holz’s
assertion with the argument that such _Capitalien_ grew more valuable
with age and that he was sure Schlesinger would get 30 ducats for the
manuscript. Beethoven expressed indifference as to which publisher got
the works so long as he was promptly paid. In urging haste upon Holz,
who had undertaken to look after the copying of the B-flat, he wrote:

It is immaterial which hellhound licks and gnaws my brains, since
it must needs be so, only see that the answer is not delayed
too long. The hellhound in L. can wait and meanwhile entertain
himself with Mephistopheles (the Editor of the Musik. L. Zeit.) in
Auerbach’s Cellar; he will soon be plucked by the ears by Belzebub
the chief of devils.

The Leipsic “hellhound” thus consigned to Belzebub was, of course,
Peters. It was about this time that Karl told his uncle an anecdote
to the effect that Cherubini, asked why he did not compose a quartet,
replied: “If Beethoven had never written a quartet I would write
quartets; as it is, I can not.” After the meetings at Schlesinger’s
room in the inn “Zum wilden Mann” the Quartets in E-flat and A minor
were played again at a concert in which Schuppanzigh was prevented from
taking part, and Holz played the first violin. Beethoven grew merry at
his expense and wrote a canon in the Conversation Book to the words:
“Holz fiddles the quartets as if they were treading _Kraut_.”

[Sidenote: PRAISE FROM THE BEPRAISED]

Two trifles which kept company with the Quartets in this year were
a Waltz in D and an Écossaise in E-flat for pianoforte, which were
published in a collection of light music by C. F. Müller. There are
several allusions to the oratorio commissioned by the Gesellschaft
der Musikfreunde in the Conversation Books of 1825, in one of which
Grillparzer is mentioned as a likely author for another book; but so
far as is known no work was done on “The Victory of the Cross,” though
Bernard shortened the book. Before the end of the year the principal
theme of the Quartet in C-sharp minor, Op. 131, is noted, accompanied
by the words written by Beethoven: “Only the praise of one who has
enjoyed praise can give pleasure”;--it is, no doubt, a relic of some of
the composer’s classic readings.[146]

FOOTNOTES:

[121] The correspondence nowhere shows a modification of the
stipulation that the Symphony was to be the exclusive property of the
Society for 18 months. But Kirchhoffer, Ries’s representative, knew of
the preparations for the Vienna performance.

[122] Dr. Deiters thinks Ries’s hesitation was due to fear of
difficulties in the performance--a fear which was realized; it is more
likely, however, as may be deduced from the context of the letter, that
Ries felt that his London friends were not being treated fairly in the
matter, Beethoven having entered upon an obligation with them to let
them have exclusive possession of the Symphony for eighteen months
after the time of delivery.

[123] Had he wholly forgotten the letter in which he offered
Schlesinger the Mass in 1822 and said that it would grieve him very
much if he could not give him “just this particular work”?

[124] The canons were those on Hoffmann and Schwenke.

[125] The remark is meaningless and was made only for the sake of a
play on words--_Rache_ and _Rachen_. Beethoven professed friendship to
Haslinger to the end, though he lampooned him in private.

[126] The mark is _Allegro con moto_ in the Complete Edition;
_Allo. commodo_ in others. Joachim’s edition gives the _commodo_ in
parenthesis.

[127] There are pitiful proofs in the Conversation Books that simple
sums in addition were more than he could master and that on his
deathbed he studied the mysteries of multiplication.

[128] Vol. II. p. 107 _et seq._

[129] Beethoven’s table habits were thus described by Holz to Jahn: “He
was a stout eater of substantial food; he drank a great deal of wine at
table, but could stand a great deal, and in merry company he sometimes
became tipsy (_bekneipte er sich_). In the evening he drank beer or
wine, generally the wine of Vöslau or red Hungarian. When he had drunk
he never composed. After the meal he took a walk.”

[130] See the preface to his biography.

[131] The date is Schindler’s, but a palpable error; it may have been
1834.

[132] It was among Thayer’s papers.

[133] Notes of Jahn’s interviews with Holz were among Thayer’s papers.

[134] “Aus meinem Leben,” Berlin, 1861, Vol. II, p. 24 _et seq._

[135] It was probably the performance by Böhm.

[136] Antonia Cibbini, _née_ Koželuch, was among those who attended the
performance of the Quartet. In the conversation which followed, Karl
tells his uncle: “The Cibbini looked to me like a bacchante when the
Quartet was played; it pleased her so greatly.”

[137] By the “Characteristic Symphony” Smart meant the Ninth, which
he had directed at its first performance in London on March 21, 1825.
Mr. Thayer visited Sir George in February, 1861, and received from
him permission to make a transcript of all the entries in his journal
touching the meetings with Beethoven, also supplementing them with oral
information. The journal remained in manuscript for forty years after
Sir George’s death and then was edited by H. Bertram Cox and C. L. E.
Cox and published by Longmans, Green and Co. in 1907, under the title:
“Leaves from the Journals of Sir George Smart.” The extracts here
quoted are from the book, and show signs of having been revised after
Thayer copied them.

[138] Not the composer, but a pianoforte maker of Vienna.

[139] The Thayer transcript has it correctly: “at the inn _Zum wilden
Mann_.”

[140] In the Thayer transcript: “the second of the three MSS.
quartettes bought by Schlesinger.”

[141] Dr. Deiters prints in a foot-note a different version of this
story from Castelli’s memoirs. According to this it was Castelli who
set the theme for Beethoven, he having, after long urging, said,
“Very well, in the name of the three devils; but Castelli, who has no
idea of pianoforte playing, must give me a theme.” Thereupon Castelli
brushed his finger up and down three adjacent keys of the pianoforte
and these notes Beethoven continually wove into the music which he
improvised for an hour, by the clock. Smart names the ten men who
composed Schlesinger’s party; Castelli’s is not among them, and Smart’s
story, noted in his journal at the time, is unquestionably correct.
Schlesinger may have given another dinner, or Castelli’s imagination
been livelier than his memory.

[142] When Mr. Thayer visited Sir George Smart in London in 1861 he
made the following notes of the conversation: Smart spoke, or rather
wrote on Beethoven’s slate;--he had been warned not to write in
Beethoven’s books--in French, a language which Beethoven (as he says)
spoke fluently. He (Smart) was particularly desirous of understanding
Beethoven’s intentions as to the performance of the Choral Sym. and
spoke with him about the recitative for instruments in the last
movement. Beethoven’s reply was:

“The recitative in strict time.”

Smart objected, that so played, it was not a recitative nor had words
to recite. Beethoven replied, “he called it so;” and finally closed
the discussion with “I _wish_ it to go in strict time”; which, from
a composer, was of course decisive. The question of how the bass
recitatives ought to be played had already been discussed when the
rehearsals for the concert of 1824 were in progress, as may be seen
in a Conversation Book of March: _Schindler_:--“How many contrabasses
are to play the recitative?--All!--There would be no difficulty in
strict time, but to give it in a singing style will make careful study
necessary.--If old Krams were still alive we could let the matter go
unconcernedly, for he directed 12 contrabasses who had to do what he
wanted.--Good; then just as if words were under it?--If necessary I
will write words under it so that they may learn to sing.”

[143] From Thayer’s note-book of 1857: “Circumstance related to
me by the son of Mr. Molt. When Mr. Molt called upon Beethoven,
December 16, 1825, (B.’s birthday) Beethoven showed him some verses
he had just written complimentary to a young lady and fell into
such enthusiasm talking about her that he passed entirely from his
musical conversation. Verses poor enough, Mr. Molt said. Mr. Molt also
described the meanness of the rooms in which B. lived.”

[144] To Thayer; from his note-book.

[145] In a memorandum for Thayer.

[146] _Laudari a viro laudate_--Nævius. _Lætus sum laudari me, inquit
Hector, opinor apud Nævium, abs te, pater, a laudate viro_--Cicero _ad
fam._ XV, 6; _Cum tragicus ille apud nos ait magnificum esse laudari a
laudato viro, laude digno, ait._--Seneca, _Epist._ 102, 16.

Chapter VIII

A Year of Sickness and Sorrow: 1826--The Quartets in
B-Flat, C-Sharp Minor and F Major--Controversy with Prince
Galitzin--Dedication of the Ninth Symphony--Life at
Gneixendorf--Beethoven’s Last Compositions.

[Sidenote: A REQUEST FOR THE GERMAN BIBLE]

The year which witnessed the last of Beethoven’s completed labors,
and saw what by general consent might be set down as the greatest of
his string quartets, that in C-sharp minor, Op. 131, beheld also the
culmination of the grief and pain caused by the conduct of his nephew.
The year 1826 was a year of awful happenings and great achievements;
a year of startling contradictions, in which the most grievous blows
which an inscrutable Providence dealt the composer as if utterly to
crush him to earth, were met by a display of creative energy which
was amazing not only in its puissance but also in its exposition of
transfigured emotion and imagination. The history of the year can
best be followed if it be told in two sections, for which reason we
have chosen to group the incidents connected with the nephew in a
chapter by themselves and review first the artistic activities of the
composer. After the history of the year has been set forth there will
remain to be told only the story of the gathering of the gloom which
early in the next year shut down over his mortal eyes forever. The
figure which stands out in highest relief throughout the year beside
that of the composer is that of Holz, whose concern for his welfare
goes into the smallest detail of his unfortunate domestic life and
includes also the major part of the labors and responsibilities caused
by the tragical outcome of the nephew’s waywardness--his attempt at
self-destruction. Schindler appears at intervals, but with jealous
reserve, chary of advice, waiting to be asked for his opinion and
pettishly protesting that after it once has been given it will not be
acted upon. Stephan von Breuning appears in all the nobility of his
nature; and in the attitude and acts of Brother Johann, though they
have been severely faulted and, we fear, maligned, there is evidence of
something as near affectionate sympathy and interest as Beethoven’s
paradoxical conduct and nature invited of him. Among the other persons
whom the Conversation Books disclose as his occasional associates are
Schuppanzigh, Kuffner, Grillparzer, Abbé Stadler and Mathias Artaria,
whose talk is chiefly about affairs in which they are concerned, though
Kuffner at one time entertains Beethoven with a discourse on things
ancient and modern which must have fascinated the artist whose mind
ever delighted to dwell on matters of large moment. Beethoven was
troubled with a spell of sickness which began near the end of January
and lasted till into March. Dr. Braunhofer was called and we read the
familiar injunctions in the Conversation Book. The composer has pains
in the bowels, gouty twinges, and finds locomotion difficult. He is
advised to abstain from wine for a few days and also from coffee,
which he is told is injurious because of its stimulating effect on
the nerves. The patient is advised to eat freely of soups, and small
doses of quinine are prescribed. There are postponed obligations of
duty--the oratorio, the opera, a _Requiem_--upon the composer which
occupy him somewhat, but his friends and advisers more. His thoughts
are not with such things but in the congenial region of the Quartets;
for the little community of stringed instruments is become more than
ever his colporteur, confidant, comforter and oracle. Kuffner tells him
through Holz that he has read Bernard’s oratorio book but cannot find
in it even the semblance of an oratorio, much less half-good execution.
Perhaps there is something of personal equation in this judgment, for
Kuffner is ready to write not only one but even two oratorio texts if
Beethoven will but undertake their composition. He presents the plan
of a work to be called “The Four Elements,” in which man is to be
brought into relationship with the imposing phenomena of nature, but
Beethoven has been inspired by a study of Handel’s “Saul” with a desire
to undertake that subject and Kuffner submits specimens of his poetical
handiwork to him. He had become interested in the ancient modes (as
his Song of Thanksgiving in the Lydian mode in the A minor quartet had
already witnessed) and was now eager to read up on the ancient Hebrews.
He sends Holz to get him books on the subject and to a visitor, who to
us is a stranger (so far as the handwriting in the C. B. is concerned),
he expresses a desire to get Luther’s translation of the Bible. He is
also interested in religious questions, as a long talk with his nephew
shows. Kuffner intended in his treatment of the story of Saul to make
it a representation of the triumph of the nobler impulses of man over
untamed desire, and said that he would be ready to deliver the book in
six weeks. Holz shows Beethoven some of the specimen sheets and points
out a place in which Beethoven might indulge in an excursion into
antique art. “Here you might introduce a chorus in the Lydian mode,” he
says. He also explains that Kuffner intended to treat the chorus as an
effective agent in the action, for which purpose it was to be divided
into two sections, like the dramatic chorus of the Greek tragedians.
Kuffner was sufficiently encouraged to write the book and Holz says
that Beethoven finished the music of the first part “In his head”; if
so, it staid there, so far as the sketchbooks bear testimony.

[Sidenote: WORKS WHICH WERE NEVER WRITTEN]

Grillparzer still hopes that the breath of musical life will be
breathed into “Melusine”; Duport, having secured the Court Opera, asks
for it, and Brother Johann and Karl urge that an opera is the most
remunerative enterprise to which he can now apply himself. Schlesinger,
in Berlin, had told Count von Brühl that Beethoven was disposed to
write an opera for the Royal Opera at the Prussian capital and Brühl
had written to the composer that he would be glad to have an opera from
him and expressed a desire that he collaborate with Grillparzer in its
making; but he did not want “Melusine,” because of the resemblance
between its subject and that of de la Motte-Fouqué’s “Undine.” An
adaptation to operatic uses of Goethe’s “Claudine von Villa Bella” was
discussed, apparently with favor, but Kanne, who was designated to take
the adaptation in hand, was afraid to meddle with the great poet’s
drama. So nothing came of the Berlin project or of “Melusine,” though
Grillparzer talked it over again with Beethoven and told Holz that
though he was not inclined to attach too great importance to it, he yet
thought it would be hard to find an opera text better adapted to its
purpose than it, from a musical and scenic point of view. To Schindler,
Beethoven once held out a prospect that “something would come” of the
idea of music for “Faust” which Rochlitz had implanted in Beethoven’s
mind; but it shared the fate of opera and oratorio. His friends also
urged him to compose a Requiem mass and such a composition belongs in
the category with the oratorio as a work which he had been paid to
undertake. Among the ardent admirers of Beethoven and most zealous
patrons of the Schuppanzigh Quartets was Johann Nepomuk Wolfmayer, a
much respected cloth merchant. One of the methods chosen by Wolfmayer
to show his appreciation of the composer was occasionally to have a new
coat made for him which he would bring to Beethoven’s lodgings, place
upon a chair and then see to it that an old one disappeared from his
wardrobe. We have already heard a similar story from Mayseder. It is
said that Wolfmayer sometimes had difficulty in getting the composer’s
consent to the exchange, but always managed to do it. Early in the
second decade of the century Wolfmayer commissioned Beethoven to write
a _Requiem_ for him and paid him 1,000 florins as an advance on the
honorarium. Beethoven promised, but never set to work: though Holz says
that he was firmly resolved to do so and, in talking about it, said
that he was better satisfied with Cherubini’s setting of the text of
the Mass for the Dead than with Mozart’s. A _Requiem_, he said, should
be a sorrowful memorial of the dead and have nothing in it of the
noises of the last trump and the day of judgment.

The sketchbooks bear witness, though not voluminously, to two other
works of magnitude which were in Beethoven’s thoughts in this year but
never saw completion. These were a symphony and a string quintet. In
a book used towards the end of 1825, containing sketches for the last
movement of the Quartet in B-flat, there is a memorandum of a _Presto_
in C minor, 3-4 time, and of a short movement in A-flat, _Andante_,
which Schindler marked as belonging to “the tenth symphony.” There
are also some much longer sketches for an overture on B-a-c-h, in the
midst of which Beethoven has written: “This overture together with
the new symphony and we shall have a new concert (_Akademie_) in the
Kärnthnerthor.” Schindler published the sketches of the symphony in
Hirschbach’s “Musikalisch-kritisches Repertorium” of January, 1844,
and started the story of an uncompleted tenth symphony. Nottebohm, in
his “Zweite Beethoveniana” (p. 12), scouts the idea that Beethoven
occupied himself seriously with the composition of such a work. “It is
not necessary,” he says, “to turn over many leaves of the sketchbooks
to prove the untenableness of the view that if Beethoven had written
a Tenth Symphony it would have been on the basis of these sketches.
We see in them only such momentary conceits as came to Beethoven by
the thousand and which were as much destined to be left undeveloped
as the multitude of other abandoned sketches in the other books.
To be big with a symphony argues persevering application to it. Of
such application there can be no talk in this case. The sketches in
question were never continued; there is not a vestige of them in the
books which follow. If Beethoven had written as many symphonies as
he began we should have at least fifty.” Nottebohm’s argument does
not dispose of the matter, though we shall presently find occasion to
think well of it. Lenz says that Holz wrote to him that Beethoven had
played “the whole of the Tenth Symphony” for him on the pianoforte,
that it was finished in all of its movements in the sketches, but
that nobody but Beethoven could decipher them. Holz, however, made no
such broad statement to Otto Jahn, a much more conscientious reporter
than Lenz. To Jahn he said that there was an introduction in E-flat
major, a soft piece, and then a powerful Allegro in C minor, which were
complete in Beethoven’s head and which he had played to him (Holz) on
the pianoforte. This is very different from an entire symphony. But
in the letter to Moscheles which Schindler says Beethoven dictated to
him on March 18, 1827, bearing a message of thanks to the Philharmonic
Society of London, Beethoven says: “An entire sketched symphony lies
in my desk, also a new overture and other things”; and a few days
later Schindler writes to Moscheles: “Three days after receiving your
letter he was greatly excited and demanded the sketches of the Tenth
Symphony, concerning the plan of which he told me a great deal. He has
now definitely decided that it shall go to the Philharmonic Society.”
The reader is familiar with Beethoven’s habit of speaking of works as
finished though not a note of them had been put on paper (as in the
case of the additional movements for the Mass in D, for instance), and
if there were sketches for a finished symphony in Beethoven’s desk when
he died, it is passing strange that Schindler did not produce them
when he started the world to talking about its loss of a successor to
the Ninth. What Nottebohm saw in the books deposited by Schindler in
the Royal Library in Berlin seems to justify what he said, at least.
Moreover, Schindler says that the sketches for the Symphony dated back
to 1824, and the incorrectness of this statement can be shown beyond
all peradventure by Nottebohm’s study of the sketchbooks. Of the other
works which play a part in the story of 1826, something will be said
hereafter.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S FAVORITE QUARTET]

Opera, oratorio, the mass for the dead, symphony, beckoned to him, but
his affections were fixed in the higher and purer regions of chamber
music, the form which represents chaste ideals, lofty imagination,
profound learning; which exacts a mutual sympathy between composer,
performer and listener and binds them in something like that angelic
wedlock which Weber said to Planché ought to unite librettist and
composer. When the year 1826 opened, Beethoven was looking forward
with no little eagerness to the first performance of the Quartet in
B-flat--his “Liebquartett” it is once called in the Conversation Books.
Schuppanzigh and his fellows had taken it in hand. They found the
concluding fugue extremely troublesome, but the Cavatina entranced them
at once; Schuppanzigh entered a record against any change in it. The
performance took place on March 21. The second and fourth movements had
to be repeated, but the fugue proved a _crux_ as, no doubt, the players
had expected it would. Some of Beethoven’s friends argued that it had
not been understood and that this objection would vanish with repeated
hearings; others, plainly a majority, asked that a new movement be
written to take its place. Johann van Beethoven told the composer that
“the whole city” was delighted with the work. Schindler says that
the _Danza alla tedesca_, one of the movements which were demanded a
second time, was originally intended for another quartet, presumably
that in A minor. Lenz objects to the theory on critical grounds, but
Nottebohm points out that the first sketches appear in A before the
sketches for the B-flat Quartet and assigns them to the A minor Quartet
without qualification of any kind. Dr. Deiters suggests that the
movement was written for the A minor Quartet and put aside when the
Song of Thanksgiving presented itself to Beethoven’s mind. There is
another reason for believing that Nottebohm is right and Lenz, as he
so frequently is, is wrong. As has been mentioned, Beethoven recurred
to one of his old German dances, written for the Ridotto balls, in the
first movement of the A minor Quartet; what more likely than that,
thinking over the old German dance, he should have conceived the idea
of a _Danza tedesca_? Schuppanzigh’s high opinion of the Cavatina was
shared by many and also by Beethoven himself. Holz said that it cost
the composer tears in the writing and brought out the confession that
nothing that he had written had so moved him; in fact, that merely to
revive it afterwards in his thoughts and feelings brought forth renewed
tributes of tears.

The doubts about the effectiveness of the fugue felt by Beethoven’s
friends found an echo in the opinions of the critics. Mathias Artaria,
the publisher, who seems in this year to have entered the circle
of the composer’s intimate associates, presented the matter to him
in a practicable light. He had purchased the publishing rights of
the Quartet and after the performance he went to Beethoven with the
suggestion that he write a new finale and that the fugue be published
as an independent piece, for which he would remunerate him separately.
Beethoven listened to the protests unwillingly, but, “vowing he would
ne’er consent, consented” and requested the pianist Anton Halm, who
had played in the B-flat Trio at the concert, to make the pianoforte
arrangements for which there had already been inquiries at Artaria’s
shop. Halm accepted the commission and made the arrangement, with
which Beethoven was not satisfied; “You have divided the parts too
much between _prim_ and second,” he remarked to Halm,[147] referring
to a device which the arranger had adopted to avoid crossing of
hands--giving passages to the right hand which should logically have
been given to the left, the effect being the same to the ear but not to
the eye. Nevertheless, Halm presented a claim for 40 florins to Artaria
for the work, and was paid. Beethoven then made an arrangement and
sent it to Artaria, also demanding a fee. To this Artaria demurred and
asked Beethoven for Halm’s manuscript. Beethoven sent it by a messenger
(probably Holz) with instructions to get his arrangement in return for
it, but at the same time told Artaria, that while he did not ask that
Artaria publish his work, he was under no obligations to give it to
him; he might have it for twelve ducats. Artaria reconciled himself
to the matter and paid Beethoven his fee on September 5. Schindler
incorrectly states that the arrangement which Artaria announced on
March 10, 1827, as Op. 134 (the original score being advertised at the
same time as Op. 133), was Halm’s.

Other performances of the Quartet were planned, but it does not appear
that any took place. Schuppanzigh was indisposed to venture upon a
repetition, but Böhm and Mayseder were eager to play it. The latter
with his companions gave quartet parties at the house of Dembscher, an
agent of the Austrian War Department, and wanted to produce the Quartet
there. But Dembscher had neglected to subscribe for Schuppanzigh’s
concert and had said that he would have it played at his house, since
it was easy for him to get manuscripts from Beethoven for that purpose.
He applied to Beethoven for the Quartet, but the latter refused to let
him have it, and Holz, as he related to Beethoven, told Dembscher in
the presence of other persons that Beethoven would not let him have
any more music because he had not attended Schuppanzigh’s concert.
Dembscher stammered in confusion and begged Holz to find some means
to restore him to Beethoven’s good graces. Holz said that the first
step should be to send Schuppanzigh 50 florins, the price of the
subscription. Dembscher laughingly asked, “Must it be?” (_Muss es
sein?_). When Holz related the incident to Beethoven he too laughed and
instantly wrote down a canon on the words: “It must be! Yes, yes, yes,
it must be. Out with the purse!”[148]

[Sidenote: ORIGIN OF “ES MUSS SEIN!”]

Out of this joke in the late fall of the year grew the finale of the
last of the last five quartets, that in F major. Op. 135, to which
Beethoven gave the superscription: “The difficult resolution” (_Der
schwergefasste Entschluss_). The story, almost universally current and
still repeated, that the phrases: _Muss es sein_? _Es muss sein_, and
_Der schwergefasste Entschluss_ had their origin in

[Illustration:

Es muss sein! Es muss sein! ja, ja, ja, ja
It must be! It must be! yes, yes, yes, yes

Es muss sein! ja, ja, ja, ja Es muss sein! ja, ja, ja, ja
It must be! yes, yes, yes, yes, It must be! yes, yes, yes, yes

Heraus mit dem Beutel! Heraus! Heraus: Es muss sein!
Come down with the rhino! Come down! Come down! It must be!

Ja, ja, ja, ja, ja, ja, ja, ja, ja, ja, Es muss sein!
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, It must be!
]

a scene frequently repeated when Beethoven’s housekeeper came to him
of a Saturday for the weekly house-money, was spread by Schindler, who
was familiar in a way with the Dembscher incident but assigned it to
the Quartet in E-flat. Holz was an actor in the scene and is the better
witness, being confirmed, moreover, by the Conversation Book. Schindler
probably took his clue from a page in the Conversation Book used in
December, 1826, in which Beethoven writes the phrases “Must it be?” and
“It must be,” and Schindler, after a conversation in which Schuppanzigh
takes part, concludes with: “It must be. The old woman is again in need
of her weekly money.” The joke played a part in the conversations with
Beethoven for some time.

Holz says that when once he remarked to Beethoven that the one in
B-flat was the greatest of his Quartets the composer replied: “Each
in its way. Art demands of us that we shall not stand still. You
will find a new manner of voice treatment (part writing) and, thank
God! there _is less lack of fancy than ever before_.” Afterward he
declared the C-sharp minor Quartet to be his greatest. The first form
of the fugue-theme in this work, as has been noted, was written down
in a Conversation Book in the last days of December, 1825. The theme
of the variations, in a form afterwards altered, was also noted amid
the records of conversations before the end of January, 1826. It is
likely that a goodly portion of the work was written within a month and
ready for the copyist, for Schuppanzigh once in January suggests that
something from the work in hand be tried. Whether or not it was ever
played in the lifetime of the composer can not be said with certainty.
Schindler says positively that it was not. It was ready for the
publisher in July and Schott and Sons, who had bought it for 80 ducats
payable in two installments, sent the drafts early to accommodate
Beethoven, who spoke of being on the eve of a short journey--of which
nothing is known save that he did not make it. The score was turned
over to Schott’s agent in Vienna on August 7. On the copy Beethoven
had written “Put together from pilferings from one thing and another”
(_Zusammengestohlen aus Verschiedenem diesem und Jenem_). This alarmed
the publishers, who wrote to Beethoven about it and in reply received
a letter stating: “You wrote me that the quartet must be an original
one. As a joke I wrote on the copy ‘Put together, etc....’; but it is
brand new.” It was published by Schott and Sons very shortly after
Beethoven’s death in April, 1827, under the opus number 129. Beethoven
originally intended to dedicate it to Wolfmayer but out of gratitude to
Baron von Stutterheim, Lieutenant Fieldmarshal, who had made a place
for Nephew Karl in his regiment, placed his name upon the title-page.

[Sidenote: PRINCE GALITZIN AND HIS QUARTETS]

With the Quartet in B-flat, Beethoven had completed the three works of
its kind which he had been commissioned to compose by Prince Nicolas
Galitzin. He had taken three years to perform the task, but in the
end the patience of his patron had been nobly rewarded--rewarded,
indeed, in a manner which insured him as large a share of immortality
as falls to the lot of a man--and meanwhile he had been privileged
to shine in the musical circles of St. Petersburg as one who stood
peculiarly close to the greatest of living composers. During the delay
Prince Galitzin’s conduct was in the highest degree honorable. In his
letters he was most generous in his offers of assistance, practically
giving Beethoven _carte blanche_ to draw on his bankers in case of
need. He organized a performance of the _Missa solemnis_ (the first
given of the work or any portion of it), and presented his copy of the
written score to the Philharmonic Society of St. Petersburg. He was so
proud of his collection of Beethoven’s music that he applied to the
composer himself to help him make it complete. Too eager to wait for
the publishers, he commissioned Beethoven to have copies made of new
works, like the Ninth Symphony and the overture to “The Consecration
of the House,” at his expense. He entertained the idea of repeating
in St. Petersburg the concert which Beethoven had given in Vienna, at
which the Symphony had received its first performance. For a while
he contemplated a repetition of the Mass. Beethoven had dedicated the
overture to him and he had written that he would requite the act with
a gift of 25 ducats. All this before he received the Quartets. Then a
strange and unaccountable change came over his attitude towards the
composer. Beethoven sent the first Quartet to him in January, 1825;
the second and third sometime in February, 1826. He had followed up
his commission in 1823 with an order to his bankers, Henikstein and
Co. in Vienna, to pay Beethoven 50 ducats, the fee agreed upon, for
each Quartet. The money was paid over in October, 1823, but with his
express consent, at Beethoven’s request, was applied to the payment
of his subscription for the Mass. If there could be any doubt on this
point it would be dissipated by the letter in which Henikstein and
Co., forwarded Beethoven’s receipt. This letter was written on October
15, 1823, and stated that the sum had been paid _comme honoraire de la
messe que nous expediée par l’entremise de la haute chancellerie de
l’État_. On December 5, 1824, let us say six weeks or two months before
he received the first Quartet, he sent another 50 ducats, which it is
fair to assume was the fee for that work and took the place of the sum
diverted to the payment for the Mass. These facts must be carefully
noted and borne in mind, for the question of Galitzin’s indebtedness to
Beethoven became the subject of a scandalous controversy a long time
after the composer’s death; it endured down to 1838 and might be opened
again were there a disposition in any quarter to do so. For the present
the story of the Quartets during Beethoven’s lifetime may be pursued
as it is disclosed by records in the Conversation Books and so much of
the correspondence as has been preserved.

In February, 1826, one of the Quartets, perhaps both of them, had been
sent to St. Petersburg by special courier. (“Everything written by
Beethoven ought to be sent to its destination by special courier,” is
one of Schuppanzigh’s magnificent remarks when the question of sending
the Quartet to the Prince is under discussion.) The money did not
come and Beethoven grew impatient and anxious. Karl tried to reassure
him. The Prince had written _Je vais_, he remarks in the Conversation
Book, plainly referring to a letter dated January 14, 1826, in which
Prince Galitzin had said: “_Je vais faire remettre à M. Stieglitz_
(his banker) _la valeur de 75 ducats pour vous être remis par M.
Fries; 50 pour le quatuor et 25 pour l’ouverture qui est magnifique
et que je vous remercie beaucoup de m’avoir dédiée_.” Still the money
did not come. In the middle of May Holz reports to Beethoven that a
letter had been received from the courier, whose name was Lipscher.
He had called on Prince Galitzin, who had begged to be excused; “he
had not time--call another day.” He had repeated the visit five or six
times, but each time was denied an audience on one pretext or another.
Finally, he had bribed a domestic with five florins and found his
way to the Prince, who seemed greatly embarrassed, fumbled amongst
his scores for a time and then asked him to come again before his
departure and he would give him the money. The courier had added that
he considered it a “Russian trick” but that he was not to be disposed
of so easily. Lipscher would be back in Vienna in four or five days,
Holz added, and advised Beethoven to await his coming before writing
to him. Schindler, a short time after, gives his views in a style
characteristic of his attitude toward Beethoven during the period of
Holz’s factotumship: “The matter of the Prince Galitzin is getting
critical and I wish you a happy outcome. If you had obeyed me he would
have had only one quartet and with that _basta_. You never permitted
yourself to be deceived by flattery as you have by this princely
braggart.” Again: “_Voila_, the letter to Count Lebzeltern (Russian
Ambassador) and the banker Stieglitz. They can go to-day as it is great
postday. What more is there to be considered? Wait, and wait--and no
results. Breuning is agreed. If Prince Galitzin could act in such
contradiction to his letters nothing good is to be expected of him.”
At a later date there came another letter from the courier. He had
tried seven times to see the Prince, but all in vain. Later (it was now
July) he had gone again; the Prince had been polite, but denied him
admittance. Still later in the same month Karl tells his uncle that he
wants to write to Stieglitz, the Prince’s banker, upon whom Beethoven
had been told to draw in case he needed money. Karl does not use
general terms as to the sum involved, but specifically says “the 125
ducats.” On August 2 Beethoven wrote to Stieglitz and Co., from whom he
received a letter dated August 13 saying that the Prince was absent,
but his attention should be directed to the matter. Evidently the
bankers kept their word, for on November 10-22, Prince Galitzin wrote
to Beethoven saying that he had received the two Quartets but had been
the victim of great losses and other misfortunes; he was now obliged to
go to the wars in Persia, but before going would pay the “125 ducats”
which he owed, thus admitting the debt in specific terms. On January
10, 1827, Beethoven, already on his deathbed, dictated a letter of
inquiry to Stieglitz and Co., and the bankers again answered promptly:
they were still waiting for an answer from the Prince. Five days
before his death Beethoven made his last appeal to Stieglitz and Co.,
reviewing the recent correspondence and Galitzin’s promise and asking
the bankers, if the money had been received, to forward it to Arnstein
and Eskeles, as he was greatly in need of it because of his protracted
sickness. Beethoven dictated the letter, but signed it himself and
endorsed the draft: “To Prince Galitzin, concerning 125 ducats, March
21, 1827.” He died on March 26.

[Sidenote: DID GALITZIN PAY FOR THE QUARTETS?]

Thus stands the record at the time of Beethoven’s death. Prince
Galitzin was back from the wars, but sent no money. On March 20, 1829,
Hotschevar as guardian of Karl van Beethoven appealed to the Imperial
Chancellary to ask the Embassy at St. Petersburg to collect the debt
of 125 ducats from the Prince. Galitzin demanded an explanation, but
after repeated requests from Karl agreed to pay 50 ducats in two
installments of 20 and 30 ducats each. The sums were paid, the latter,
as Karl’s receipt shows, on November 9, 1832. Karl continued to make
representations to the Prince touching a balance of 75 ducats still
due and on June 2-14, 1835, Galitzin promised to pay the sum, not as
a balance due on his business transactions with Beethoven, but as a
memorial _pour honorer sa mémoire, que m’est chère_. Even now the
money was not paid, but after a controversy had broken out between
Schindler and the Prince over the former’s charge that Beethoven had
never been paid for the Quartets, Galitzin sent the 75 ducats, and Karl
complaisantly acquiesced in the Prince’s request and signed a receipt
for the money, not as in payment of the debt, but as a voluntary
tribute to the dead composer.[149]

[Sidenote: DEDICATION OF THE NINTH SYMPHONY]

Schott was ready with the Ninth Symphony in July, 1826, but Beethoven
asked him to delay the despatch of the printed score to the King of
Prussia, to whom it was dedicated, until he had had an opportunity
to send the monarch a manuscript copy, which, he said, would have no
value after the publication. The reward which he was looking forward to
in return was a decoration. The Conversation Books have considerable
to say about the dedication, but if the London Philharmonic Society
ever entered Beethoven’s mind in connection with it, the record has
been lost. He wanted an Order, and had he received one in time for
the concert, its insignia would, in great likelihood, have graced his
breast on that occasion. He had repeatedly expressed contempt for the
outward signs of royal condescension, but the medal sent by the King
of France had evidently caused a change of heart in this regard. He
was eager to see a description and illustration of the medallion in
the newspapers; and that he thought of hanging it about his neck,
appears from a remark to him made by Karl before the concert, telling
him that it was too heavy to wear and would pull down his collar.
Visitors called to see it and he permitted his intimate friends to
show it about, until Holz cautioned him to do so no more, as it was
showing marks of damage from a fall. In one conversation, Johann
suggests that the Symphony be dedicated to the Czar of Russia and from
a remark in one of Prince Galitzin’s letters telling him that, by a
recent decree, all foreigners who wished to dedicate works of art to
the Czar would have to obtain permission to do so from the Minister of
Foreign Affairs, it would appear that Johann’s suggestion, or approval,
had also received his sanction. Ferdinand Ries was also a candidate
for the distinction (Beethoven had promised him the dedication in a
letter), his claim being put forward, without particular urgency, by
Franz Christian Kirchhoffer, a bookkeeper with whom Beethoven was
acquainted and through whom Ries carried on his correspondence with
the composer. On April 8, 1824, Karl wrote in a Conversation Book:
“As soon as the Symphony has been sent to England it must be copied
again handsomely on vellum paper and sent with an inscription to the
King of France.” On the same day, apparently, Schindler asks: “Who has
the preference in the matter of the dedication of the Symphony--Ries
or the King of Prussia?--It ought to be offered as a proof of your
gratitude, in these words.--There could be no better opportunity than
just now for this purpose.” It is obvious that Schindler favors the
King of France, for a day or two later he writes: “Schwaebl sends his
compliments and is highly delighted that you are pleased with the gift.
As regards the you-know-what he wants you to write to the Duke de la
Chârtre [d’Âchats] yourself, but for the present nothing about the
dedication--leave the reference till later.” The advice is repeated and
the subject concluded with: “Good, then you will stick to France.”

These facts belong chronologically to the history of 1824, but they
have been made pertinent by the discussion of the dedication and
presentation of the Ninth Symphony to the King of Prussia, which took
place in 1826. They are also valuable to correct a misapprehension
which has prevailed ever since the publication of Hogarth’s history
of the London Philharmonic Society and was no doubt current before
then. Hogarth says that the directors of the society resolved to offer
Beethoven £50 for a manuscript symphony on November 10, 1822, and adds,
“the money was immediately advanced.” In a note to his translation of
one of Beethoven’s letters (Kalischer-Shedlock, Vol. II, p. 448) Mr.
Shedlock calls attention to the fact that there is a document in the
British Museum, acknowledging receipt of £50 for a symphony composed
for the society, dated April 27, 1824. This document proves the date on
which Beethoven received the remuneration for the Symphony to have been
that indicated in the receipt beyond peradventure. On April 26 or 27
Karl writes, in the Conversation Book from which we have been quoting:

He [presumably Johann van Beethoven] is not at home at noon. He
will himself come soon after 7. He says you owe him 500 florins
which is squared by the payment for the Symphony. Moreover Ries
begs you to dedicate the Symphony to him.--Shares--You must not
refuse bluntly, but give him an evasive answer, until you have
the shares. Is the Symphony ready to be taken away?--Then you can
go out and the brother will come here. The Symphony must not be
published for a year.[150] Did you dedicate the overture to him?
You might dedicate it to him.

_Johann_ (a short time afterward).--Kirchhoffer was here and said
that ducats have depreciated in value and we ought to inform
ourselves at once. He wants me to bring him the two documents and
the Symphony, when he will at once hand over the two shares. I
beg you therefore to sign this now so that I can be with him at
10 o’clock. I will bring the two shares at once.--The girl can
carry the Symphony with me now.--As regards the dedication of the
Symphony it was only a question put for Ries by Kirchhoffer and
must in no case be. He would have liked to see Ries [get it?]
because he is going to leave London soon.--I told him it could not
well be in the case of this work, whereupon he said no more. In no
event does he count on it longer.

When finally, in 1826, Beethoven decided that the Symphony should be
dedicated to the King of Prussia, he obtained permission of Prince
Hatzfeld, the Prussian Ambassador, to do so. Dr. Spicker, the King’s
librarian, was in Vienna at the time and arrangements were made
to transmit a copy of the score to Berlin through him. Holz had a
talk with him and he advised him concerning the preparation of the
presentation copy and also discussed the possibility of a decoration.
Spicker told Holz to have Beethoven copy the title of the printed work
on the title-page in his natural and habitual handwriting without any
attempt at beautification. This would enhance the value of the score
in the eyes of the King and he would put it in his private library. To
get the order would be an easy matter, for the King was predisposed in
Beethoven’s favor. Spicker also visited Beethoven, being presented by
Haslinger, but, unfortunately, the pages of the book which must have
recorded the conversation have not been preserved; or, if preserved,
not been made known. Beethoven wrote the title-page, the score was
handsomely bound by Steiner and Co. and placed in the hands of Dr.
Spicker with the following letter:

Your Majesty:

It is a piece of great good fortune in my life that Your Majesty
has graciously allowed me to dedicate the present work to you.

Your Majesty is not only the father of your subjects but also
protector of the arts and sciences; how much more, therefore, must
I rejoice in your gracious permission since I am also so fortunate
as to count myself a citizen of Bonn and therefore one of your
subjects.

I beg of Your Majesty graciously to accept this work as a slight
token of the high reverence which I give to all your virtues.

Your Majesty’s
Most obedient servant
Ludwig van Beethoven.

[Sidenote: A ROYAL GIFT OF SMALL VALUE]

The King’s acknowledgment was as follows:

In view of the recognized worth of your compositions it was very
agreeable for me to receive the new work which you have sent me. I
thank you for sending it and hand you the accompanying diamond ring
as a token of my sincere appreciation.

Berlin, November 25, 1826
Friedrich Wilhelm.

To the composer Ludwig van Beethoven.

Schindler says that when the case containing the King’s gift was
opened it was found to contain, not a diamond ring as the letter had
described it, but one set with a stone of a “reddish” hue which the
court jeweller to whom it was shown appraised at 300 florins, paper
money. Beethoven was very indignant and was with difficulty dissuaded
from sending it back to the Prussian Ambassador; eventually he sold
it to the jeweler at the value which he had set upon it. Whether or
not the ring was the one really sent from Berlin or one which had been
substituted for it (as was suspected in some quarters), has never been
determined.

Despite the cordial relations between Beethoven and Haslinger, which
endured to the end of the composer’s life, there was continual friction
between him and the Steiner firm, for which it would seem that Holz
was at this time responsible in a considerable degree; and it may have
been he who put the notion into Beethoven’s head that it would be a
stroke of business to buy back all of his manuscripts which Steiner had
acquired but had not yet published. Dissatisfaction with the policy
of publishers, however, was in Beethoven a confirmed mood; we have
heard him rail against the men who wanted to withhold his works till
he was dead, so as to profit from the public curiosity which would
follow. Beethoven made the proposition in a jocular letter to Haslinger
offering to pay the same “shameful” price for all his unpublished
manuscripts which the firm had paid him. The transaction was not
consummated; if it had been there can be no doubt but that it would
have been highly advantageous to him, since both Schott and Artaria
were now eager to have his works.

[Sidenote: A DEFENSE OF MOZART’S “REQUIEM”]

Among Beethoven’s intimate friends was Abbé Stadler, an old man and
an old-fashioned musician, the horizon of whose æsthetic appreciation
was marked by the death-date of his friend Mozart. Castelli says that
he used to call Beethoven’s music “pure nonsense”; certain it is that
he used to leave the concert-room whenever a composition by Beethoven
was to be played. Schuppanzigh offered as an excuse for him that he
had a long way home, and it does not appear that Beethoven ever took
umbrage at his conduct. Holz, telling Beethoven in February, 1825,
that as usual he had left the room when an overture by Beethoven was
about to be played, added: “He is too old. He always says when Mozart
is reached, ‘More I cannot understand.’” But once he staid and not
only listened to a Beethoven piece but praised it. It was the Trio for
Strings, Op. 9, which had been composed nearly a generation before!
Holz becomes sarcastic: “One might say A. B. C. D. (_Abbé cédait_).”
Stadler now had occasion to court Beethoven’s favor, or at least to
betray the fact that even if he could not appreciate his music he
yet had had a vast respect for his genius and reputation. In 1825,
Gottfried Weber had written an essay, which was published in the
“Cäcilia” journal, attacking the authenticity of Mozart’s “Requiem.”
The article angered Beethoven, as is evidenced by his marginal glosses
on the copy of the journal which he read, now in the possession of Dr.
Prieger in Bonn. The glosses are two in number: “Oh, you arch ass!” and
“Double ass!” Such a disposition of an attack on the artistic honor of
his friend did not suffice Stadler. He published a defence of Mozart
(“_Vertheidigung der Echtheit des Mozartschen Requiems_”) and sent a
copy to Beethoven, who acknowledged it thus:

On the 6th of Feby., 1826.

Respected and venerable Sir:

You have done a really good deed in securing justice for the
_manes_ of Mozart by your truly exemplary and exhaustive essay,
and lay and _profane_, all who are musical or can in anywise be
accounted so must give you thanks.

It requires either nothing or much for one like Herr W. to bring
such a subject on the carpet.

When it is also considered that to the best of my knowledge such
an one has written a treatise on composition and yet tries to
attribute such passages as

[Illustration]

to Mozart, and adds to it such passages as

[Illustration: Agnus Dei peccata mundi]

and

[Illustration: qui tollis peccata qui tollis peccata]

we are reminded by Herr W’s amazing knowledge of harmony and melody
of the old and dead Imperial Composers Sterkel, ...... (illegible),
Kalkbrenner (the father), Andre (_nicht der gar Andere_) etc.

_Requiescat in pace._--I thank you in especial, my honored friend,
for the happiness which you have given me in sending me your essay.
I have always counted myself among the greatest admirers of Mozart
and will remain such till my last breath.

Reverend Sir, _your blessing soon_.[151]

The concluding supplication recalls an anecdote related by Castelli
in his memoirs: Beethoven and Abbé Stadler once met at Steiner’s.
About to depart, Beethoven kneeled before the Abbé and said: “Reverend
Sir, give me your blessing.” Stadler, not at all embarrassed, made the
sign of the cross over the kneeling man and, as if mumbling a prayer,
said: “Hilft’s nix, schadt’s nix” (“If it does no good, ’twill do no
harm”). Beethoven thereupon kissed his hand amid the laughter of the
bystanders. Jahn heard the same story from Fischoff.[152]

A remark in a Conversation Book of 1826 indicates that Stadler had
urged Beethoven to write a mass. Holz says: “If Stadler tells you to
write a mass it is certain that something will be done for it. He
knows best of anybody which way the wind blows.--He has Dietrichstein
and Eybler in his pocket.--You are well cared for if Stadler favors
it.” The conversations of Holz also provide a fleeting glimpse of
Schubert in this year. Holz tells Beethoven that he had seen the young
composer with either Artaria or Mosel (the allusion is vague) and that
the two were reading a Handel score together. “He (Schubert) was very
amiable and thanked me for the pleasure which Mylord’s [Schuppanzigh’s]
Quartets gave him; he was always present.--He has a great gift for
songs.--Do you know the ‘Erlking’? He spoke very mystically, always.”

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN AND FRIEDRICH WIECK]

Friedrich Wieck, father of Clara Schumann, spent three hours with
Beethoven in May, having been presented by Andreas Stein, the
pianoforte maker. He told about the visit long afterward in a letter
to his second wife which was reprinted in the “Signale” No. 57, in
December, 1873, from the “Dresdener Nachrichten.” Beethoven gave his
guest wine (to which Wieck was not accustomed), improvised for him
over an hour and talked voluminously about

musical conditions in Leipsic--Rochlitz--Schicht--Gewandhaus--his
housekeeper--his many lodgings, none of which suited him--his
promenades--Hietzing--Schönbrunn--his brother--various stupid
people in Vienna--aristocracy--democracy--revolution--Napoleon--
Mara--Catalani--Malibran--Fodor--the excellent Italian singers
Lablache, Donzelli, Rubini and others, the perfection of Italian
opera (German opera could never be so perfect because of the
language and because the Germans did not learn to sing as
beautifully as the Italians)--my views on pianoforte playing--
Archduke Rudolph--Fuchs in Vienna, at the time a famous musical
personality--my improved method of pianoforte teaching, etc.

Wieck says the meeting was in Hietzing, and that Beethoven played upon
the pianoforte “presented to him by the city of London”--three obvious
mistakes, since Beethoven was not in Hietzing in May, but in Vienna,
and the Broadwood pianoforte, which was not presented to him by the
city of London but by Thomas Broadwood, was in the hands of Graf for
repairs in May.

After Karl’s attempt to end his ill-spent life, with its crushing
effect upon the composer, the friends, Holz in particular, made many
efforts to divert Beethoven’s mind from his disappointment and grief.
They accompanied him on brief excursions into the country which he
loved so passionately and which had been closed to him, for the
customary happy season, by his nephew’s act. Again did his brother
offer him a haven at Gneixendorf in August, only to receive the curt
answer: “I will not come. Your brother??????!!!! Ludwig.” His nephew
was lying in the hospital. He could not leave him then nor did he go
until it had become necessary to find an asylum for Karl as well as
a resting-place for himself. His brother came to the city late in
September; it was necessary that Karl should remain out of Vienna
until he could join a regiment of soldiery, and so Beethoven accepted
Johann’s renewed invitation to make a sojourn at Gneixendorf. Meanwhile
he was far from idle. He had begun a new quartet, in F major, and
Schlesinger, _père_, who had come from Berlin, negotiated with him
for its publication. He had the new finale for the B-flat Quartet
on his mind and, as will appear later, several other works occupied
him. With Schlesinger he talked about the Complete Edition and some
military marches which the King of Prussia was to pay for, as they were
to be written for the Royal Band. The chief obstacle to Beethoven’s
acceptance of his brother’s repeated invitations to visit him at
Gneixendorf came from the presence there of the brother’s wife. Her
scandalous conduct had begotten an intense hatred in Beethoven’s mind.
Urged on by his brother, Johann had once planned to put her away, but
there was an obstacle in the shape of a marriage contract, which gave
her half of his property, and though she was willing to surrender
the contract at one time, she was not content to be turned out upon
the world with neither character nor means of subsistence. Besides,
Johann was loath to take the drastic methods which alone were open to
him. He was inclined, much to the indignation of his brother, to be
complaisant; he needed a housekeeper and for that she would serve.
“I go my way and let her go hers,” he said, and he told his brother
when trying to persuade him to spend his summers, perhaps eventually
all his time, at Gneixendorf, that he need pay no heed whatever to
his sister-in-law. Much of the ill-feeling was due to the fact that
Beethoven wanted to insure his brother’s fortune for Karl. The nephew
did eventually become his sole heir and inherited 42,000 florins from
him.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN AT GNEIXENDORF]

On September 28, Beethoven and his nephew left Vienna for Gneixendorf,
intending to stay a week. A night was passed at a village _en route_,
and Johann’s estate was reached in the afternoon of the next day--the
29th--but not too late for the composer to walk through the fields
with his brother to take a look at the property. The next day the
walk was extended to the vineyards on the hill in the forenoon and
to Imbach in the afternoon. There Karl pointed out to his uncle some
historical monuments: “This is the cloister where Margarethe, Ottocar’s
wife, died; the scene occurs in Grillparzer’s piece.” Thus, with other
excursions the next day, life at Gneixendorf began. [153] Gneixendorf
is a little village on a high plateau of the Danube Valley about an
hour’s walk from Krems. It is a mean hamlet, with only one street and
that narrow, rough and dirty. The houses are low huts. Wasserhof,
as the place is now called, the Beethoven estate, lies opposite the
village and is reached by a wagon road which runs a large part of the
way along the edge of a ravine, which torrents have cut out of the
clayey soil. The plateau is almost treeless but covered with fields
and vines. In Beethoven’s time there were two houses on the estate,
both large and handsome, each with its garden and surrounding wall. The
houses were separated from each other by a road. A generation after
Beethoven had been a visitor there the gardens were found neglected
and the trees which surrounded the house, a two-storey structure
strongly built of stone with a covering of mortar, shut out a view of
the surrounding country.[154] Beethoven’s rooms were on the east side,
and unless the trees interfered the composer had a magnificent view of
the Danubian valley stretching to the distant Styrian mountains. Johann
van Beethoven’s possessions compassed nearly 400 acres, most of which
he leased to tenants. A lover of hills and forests like Beethoven must
have found Wasserhof dreary and monotonous in the extreme, yet the
distant view of the Danube seems to have compensated him in a measure,
for it reminded him of the Rhine.

Gerhard von Breuning gives a distressful account of Beethoven’s
reception and treatment at Gneixendorf. It is, indeed, too distressful
to be implicitly accepted as true, nor are all his accusations against
Johann borne out by the evidence of the Conversation Books and
other indubitable facts. If the account in Breuning’s book “Aus dem
Schwarzspanierhause” were literally true, we should have to picture to
ourselves Beethoven, arrived at his brother’s place, being assigned
rooms which were unfit for occupation in the cold, wet November weather
which ensued, denied facilities for proper heating, having fire-wood
stingily doled out to him, compelled to eat miserable food and forced
to be content with too little even of that, and three days after his
arrival informed that he would be expected to pay for his board and
lodging. One would think while reading the account that Johann van
Beethoven, who had been offering hospitalities to his brother for
years, had done so only to make money out of him and had at last
succeeded in his design by taking advantage of the overwhelming
sorrow which had come upon him.[155] Beethoven is said to have made
complaints in the nature of von Breuning’s accusations in a letter
written from Gneixendorf to Stephan von Breuning, and also to have
given expression to his feelings at being obliged to submit to the
repulsive companionship of his brother’s wife and step-daughter. The
letter is lost and was not printed by Breuning’s son in proof of the
charges; but if it had been it would not be conclusive in the minds
of dispassionate judges. Against it there would lie the evidences of
the brother’s numerous acts of helpfulness, the many instances of
Beethoven’s unreasonable suspicion and unjust judgment and, above
all, the testimony of the Conversation Books. As to the matter of an
insufficient supply of fire-wood, there is a remark of Karl’s, made
after a return to Vienna is already in contemplation: “As regards
expenses, wood is so cheap that it is inconceivable that your brother
should be at any considerable cost, for you can heat a long time with
a cord and he is already overpaid.” Long before when Johann had been
trying in vain to induce him to come to Gneixendorf for the summer he
rebukes him for his unwillingness to accept his hospitality gratis.
Once during the sojourn he says explicitly: “You do not need money
here”; and at another time: “If you want to live with us you can have
everything for 40 florins Convention money a month, which makes only
500 florins for a whole year,” and again: “You will need only half of
your pension” and “I will charge nothing for the first fortnight; I
would do more if I were not so hard-pressed with taxes.” Beethoven had
planned at the outset to stay only a week, just long enough for the
scar on Karl’s head to disappear sufficiently to make him presentable
to his commanding officer. Instead, the visit lasted two months and
Johann was short of money. He had still two payments to make on the
purchase-money for the estate, and collections were not good.

Beethoven was sick when he went to Gneixendorf. He had not recovered
from his illness of the early months of the year when Karl attempted to
kill himself, and this was not calculated to improve the physical or
mental condition of so nervous and irritable a being as he. On October
7, eight days after his arrival in Gneixendorf, he wrote a letter from
a sickbed and Breuning, to whom it was sent, who knew his physical
condition well, remarked that he was in danger of becoming seriously
ill, possibly dropsical. Nothing was more natural than that his letters
should be full of complaints, some of which might well be measurably
founded on fact without convicting his brother of inhumanity. He had
never been a comfortable or considerate guest or tenant at the best,
and his adaptability to circumstances was certainly not promoted by
the repugnance which he felt towards his sister-in-law and his want of
honest affection for his brother.

[Sidenote: ANECDOTES OF A RURAL SOJOURN]

Concerning his life in Gneixendorf, a number of interesting details
were told in an article entitled “Beethoven in Gneixendorf,” published
in the “Deutsche Musikzeitung” in 1862,[156] some of which are worth
reciting again. One day Johann went to Langenfeld and Beethoven and
other people from Gneixendorf went with him. The purpose was to visit a
surgeon named Karrer, a friend of the brother. The surgeon was absent
on a sick-call, but his wife, flattered by a visit from the landowner,
entertained him lavishly. Noticing a man who held himself aloof from
the company, sitting silently on the bench behind the stove, and
taking him for one of her guest’s servants, she filled a little jug
with native wine and handed it to him with the remark: “He shall also
have a drink.” When the surgeon returned home late at night and heard
an account of the incident he exclaimed: “My dear wife, what have you
done? The greatest composer of the century was in our house to-day and
you treated him with such disrespect!”

Johann had occasion to visit the syndic Sterz in Langenlois on a
matter of business. Beethoven accompanied him. The conference lasted a
considerable time, during all of which Beethoven stood motionless at
the door of the official’s office. At the leavetaking Sterz bowed often
and low to the stranger, and after he was gone asked his clerk, named
Fux, an enthusiastic lover of music, especially of Beethoven’s; “Who do
you think the man was who stood by the door?” Fux replied: “Considering
that you, Mr. Syndic, treated him with such politeness, his may be
an exceptional case; otherwise I should take him for an imbecile
(_Trottel_).” The consternation of the clerk may be imagined when told
the name of the man whom he had taken for an idiot.

Johann’s wife had assigned Michael Krenn, son of one of her husband’s
vinedressers, to look after Beethoven’s wants. At first the cook had to
make up Beethoven’s bed. One day, while the woman was thus occupied,
Beethoven sat at a table gesticulating with his hands, beating time
with his feet, muttering and singing. The woman burst into a laugh,
which Beethoven observed. He drove her out of the room instanter.
Krenn tried to follow her, but Beethoven drew him back, gave him three
20-kreutzer pieces, told him not to be afraid, and said that hereafter
he should make the bed and clean the floor every day. Krenn said that
he was told to come to the room early, but generally had to knock a
long time before Beethoven opened the door. It was Beethoven’s custom
to get up at half-past 5 o’clock, seat himself at a table and write
while he beat time with hands and feet and sang. This frequently
stirred Krenn’s risibles, and when he could no longer restrain his
laughter he used to leave the room. Gradually he grew accustomed to
it. The family breakfast was eaten at half-past 7 o’clock, after which
Beethoven hurried out into the open air, rambled across the fields
shouting and waving his arms, sometimes walking very rapidly, sometimes
very slowly and stopping at times to write in a sort of pocketbook.
This book he once lost and said: “Michael, run about and hunt my
writings; I must have them again at any cost.” Michael luckily found
them. At half-past 12 Beethoven would come home for dinner, after which
he went to his room until about 3 o’clock; then he roamed over the
fields until shortly before sunset, after which he never went out of
doors. Supper was at half-past 7, and after eating he went to his room,
wrote till 10 o’clock and then went to bed. Occasionally Beethoven
played the pianoforte, which did not stand in his room but in the
salon. Nobody was permitted to enter his rooms except Michael, who had
to put them in order while Beethoven was out walking. In doing so he
several times found money on the floor, and when he carried it to its
owner, Beethoven made him show him where he had picked it up and then
gave it to him. This happened three or four times, after which no more
money was found. In the evening Michael had to sit with Beethoven and
write down answers to questions which he asked. Generally Beethoven
wanted to know what had been said about him at dinner and supper.

One day the wife of the landowner sent Michael to Stein with 5 florins
to buy wine and a fish; but Michael was careless and lost the money.
He came back to Gneixendorf in consternation. As soon as Madame van
Beethoven saw him she asked for the fish, and when he told her of the
loss she discharged him from her service. When Beethoven came into
dinner he asked at once for his servant and the lady told him what had
happened. Beethoven grew fearfully excited, gave her 5 florins, and
angrily demanded that Michael be called back at once. After that he
never went to table any more but had his dinner and supper brought to
his rooms, where Michael had to prepare breakfast for him. Even before
this occurrence Beethoven scarcely ever spoke to his sister-in-law
and seldom to his brother. Beethoven wanted to take Michael with him
to Vienna, but when a cook came to call for the composer the plan was
abandoned.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN SCARES A YOKE OF OXEN]

Two old peasants told the owner of Wasserhof in 1862 stories which
confirm Krenn’s account of Beethoven’s unusual behavior in the fields.
Because of his unaccountable actions they at first took him for a
madman and kept out of his way. When they had become accustomed to his
singularities and learned that he was a brother of the landlord they
used to greet him politely; but he, always lost in thought, seldom if
ever returned their greetings. One of these peasants, a young man at
the time, had an adventure with Beethoven of a most comical nature. He
was driving a pair of young oxen, scarcely broken to the yoke, from the
tile-kiln toward the manor-house when he met Beethoven shouting and
waving his arms about in wild gesticulations. The peasant called to
him: _A bissel stada!_ (“A little quieter”) but he paid no attention
to the request. The oxen took fright, ran down a steep hill and the
peasant had great difficulty in bringing them to a stand, turning them
and getting them back on the road. Again Beethoven came towards them,
still shouting and gesticulating. The yokel called to him a second
time, but in vain; and now the oxen rushed towards the house, where
they were stopped by one of the men employed there. When the driver
came up and asked who the fool was who had scared his oxen the man told
him it was the proprietor’s brother. “A pretty brother, that he is!”
was the answering comment.

On October 7 Beethoven answered the letter which he had received many
months before from Wegeler. He wrote a long letter in the cordial and
intimate tone which is to be found only in the correspondence with
persons to whom he was bound by ties of affectionate friendship, but
made no reference to Karl. On the subject of his paternity he wrote:

You write that I am written down somewhere as a natural son of the
deceased king of Prussia; this was mentioned to me long ago. I have
made it a principle never to write anything about myself nor to
reply to anything written about me. For this reason I gladly leave
it to you to make known to the world the honesty of my parents, and
my mother in particular.

He tells with pride of the gift from the King of France, of other
distinctions which he had received, and of King Frederick William’s
desire to have the autograph of his new Symphony for the Royal Library,
and adds: “Something has been said to me in this connection about the
order of the Red Eagle, second class.[157] What the outcome will be I
do not know; I have never sought for such marks of honor, but at my
present age they would not be unwelcome, for several reasons.”

On October 13 he wrote a merry letter to Haslinger, whom he addresses
in music as “First of all Tobiasses,” asking him to deliver a quartet
(the one in F major published as Op. 135) to Schlesinger’s agent and
collect and forward the money, of which he stands in need. On the same
day he wrote to Schott and Sons enclosing the metronome marks for the
Ninth Symphony which the Conversation Book shows had been dictated to
Karl before the departure from Vienna. That he was not as grievously
disappointed by his surroundings at Gneixendorf as might have been
expected is evidenced by the remark: “The scenes among which I am
sojourning remind me somewhat of the Rhine country which I so greatly
long to see again, having left them in my youth.”

[Sidenote: WORKS WRITTEN AT GNEIXENDORF]

The Quartet in F was completed at Gneixendorf. Beethoven sent it to
Schlesinger’s agent on October 30, and had probably put the finishing
touches on it about the time when he wrote to Haslinger about its
delivery a fortnight before. Schlesinger had agreed to pay 80 ducats
for it. It had been in hand four months at least, for in July he told
Holz that he intended to write another quartet and when Holz asked, “In
what key?” and was told, he remarked, “But that will be the third in
F. There is none in D minor. It is singular that there is none among
Haydn’s in A minor.” If there were positive evidence in the “Muss es
sein?” incident, a still earlier date would have to be set for its
origin, but here we are left to conjecture. There was considerable
merry-making over the Dembscher joke, and it is at least probable that
the first sketches for the Quartet and the Canon were written about the
same time. The point which cannot be definitely determined is whether
or not the motif of the Canon was destined from the first for the
finale of the Quartet. It may have been in Beethoven’s mind for that
purpose and the sudden inspiration on hearing the story of Dembscher’s
query “Muss es sein?” may have gone only to the words and the use of
them with the music for the Canon. That the Quartet was to be shorter
than the others was known before Beethoven left Vienna. Holz once says
to Beethoven before the departure that Schlesinger had asked about it
and that he had replied that Beethoven was at work upon it, and added:
“You will not publish it if it is short. Even if it should have only
three movements it would still be a quartet by Beethoven, and it would
not cost so much to print it.”[158]

The new finale for the Quartet in B-flat was also completed in
Gneixendorf, though it, too, had been worked out almost to a conclusion
in Vienna. It was delivered on November 25 to Artaria, who gave him 15
ducats for it. Schuppanzigh gave it a private performance in December
and told Beethoven that the company thought it _köstlich_ and that
Artaria was overjoyed when he heard it. There were other compositions
on which Beethoven worked in Gneixendorf when he compelled laughter
from the cook and frightened the peasant’s oxen. At Diabelli’s request
he had said that he would write a quintet with flute. Sketches for a
quintet have been found, showing that the work was in a considerable
state of forwardness, but in them there are no signs of a flute. Holz
told Jahn that the first movement of a quintet in C for strings which
Diabelli had bought for 100 ducats was finished in the composer’s
head and the first page written out. In the catalogue of Beethoven’s
posthumous effects No. 173 was “Fragment of a new Violin Quintet,
of November, 1826, last work of the composer,” which was officially
valued at 10 florins. It was bought by Diabelli at the auction sale
and published in pianoforte arrangements, two and four hands, with the
title: “Ludwig van Beethoven’s last Musical Thought, after the original
manuscript of November, 1826,” and the remark: “Sketch of the Quintet
which the publishers, A. Diabelli and Co., commissioned Beethoven to
write and purchased from his relics with proprietary rights.” The
published work is a short movement in C in two divisions, having a
broad theme of a festal character, _Andante maestoso_ and Polonaise
rhythm. The autograph having disappeared it can not now be said how
much of the piece was actually written out by Beethoven. Nottebohm
shows (“Zweit. Beeth.,” p. 79 _et seq._) that the sketches for the
quintet were written after Beethoven had begun to make a fair copy of
the last movement of the B-flat Quartet. Lenz, in volume V of his work
on Beethoven (p. 219), tells a story derived from Holz to the effect
that when Beethoven sent him the last movement of the B-flat Quartet
with injunctions to collect 12 ducats from Artaria, he accompanied
it with a Canon on the words “Here is the work; get me the money”
(_Hier ist das Werk, schafft mir das Geld_). According to a report
circulated in Vienna in 1889, a copy of this Canon was purchased from
Holz’s son for the Beethoven Collection in Heiligenstadt. The lines and
notes were described as having been written by Beethoven, the words:
_Hier ist das Werk, sorgt für das Geld--1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,
10, 11, 12 Dukaten_, by Holz to Beethoven’s dictation. The story is
not altogether convincing. The movement was completed in Gneixendorf
and Artaria received and paid for it in November. He paid 15, not 12,
ducats; and it is not patent how Beethoven in Gneixendorf could dictate
to Holz in Vienna. He did not return to Vienna till December 2. There
are references to other works in the Conversation Books which are not
clear. In January Mathias Artaria writes: “I hear of six fugues.--We
will empty a bottle of champagne in their honor.” Holz asks: “Is it
true that you sold a rondo to Dominik Artaria which he has not yet
received? It is said that you took it back and have not returned
it.”--It is possible that the Rondo Caprice which was published by
Diabelli as Op. 129, the history of which is a blank, is the work
alluded to; but there is no evidence on the subject.

FOOTNOTES:

[147] Halm’s personal explanation to Mr. Thayer.

[148] The Editor has taken the liberty of transferring the music to
the treble clef and to interpret the notes which are indistinct in the
autograph in accordance with Dr. Deiters’s transcript.

[149] It would scarcely be worth while to review the acrimonious
controversy on this subject. There were errors and misunderstandings
growing out of faulty memories and imperfect records. Mr. Thayer made
a painstaking study of the subject and secured all the available
correspondence from Prince George Galitzin and from other sources
in 1861. His résumé as given in Grove’s “Dictionary of Music and
Musicians” (Art. “Galitzin”) doubtless sets forth the fact of
indebtedness and payment correctly. He says: “These (the last two
Quartets) were received by the Prince together and were acknowledged
by him Nov. 22, 1826. He also received a MS. copy of the Mass in D and
printed copies of the Ninth Symphony and of the two overtures in C, the
one (Op. 124) dedicated to him, the other (Op. 115) dedicated to Count
Radzivill. Thus the whole claim against him was--Quartets 150 ducats;
Overture (Op. 115), 25 ducats; Mass, 50 ducats; loss on exchange, 4
ducats; total 229 ducats, not including various other pieces of music
sent. On the other hand he appears, notwithstanding all his promises,
to have paid, up to the time of Beethoven’s death, only 104 ducats.
It should be said that in 1826, war and insurrection had broken out
in Russia, which occupied the Prince and obliged him to live away
from Petersburg, and also put him to embarrassing expenses. After the
peace of Adrianople, (Sept. 14, 1829) when Beethoven had been dead
some years a correspondence was opened with him by Hotschevar, Karl
van Beethoven’s guardian, which resulted in 1832 in a further payment
of 50 ducats, making a total of 154. Karl still urges his claim for
75 more to make up the 150 ducats for the Quartets, which Galitzin in
1835 promises to pay but never does. In 1852, roused by Schindler’s
statement of the affair (ed. I. pp. 162, 163), he writes to the
_Gazette musicale_ of July 21, 1852, a letter stating correctly the
sum paid but incorrectly laying it all to the account of the Quartets.
Other letters passed between him and Karl Beethoven, but they are not
essential to the elucidation of the transaction.”

To this the present editor adds a bit of history derived chiefly from
Mr. Thayer’s papers. In the course of time Schindler’s partly erroneous
statement that the debt which Galitzin owed Beethoven at the time
of his death was all on account of the quartets was magnified into
the statement made by Heinrich Döring and Brendel that the Prince
had “cheated” the composer out of the fee for the Quartets. Prince
Nicolas Galitzin had withdrawn to his distant estates in Russia, but
at his instigation the cudgels were taken up in his behalf by his son
Prince George, who, stirred into indignation by Döring’s biography
in particular, sent that writer the following letter: “I can not and
do not want to know anything of the past, all the less since it will
certainly not be expected of me to contradict the proofs produced by
him (his father). But as by the publication of your article you have
made the question for me one of the day, I, as a man of honor must do
my duty to put an end to these misunderstandings. I have deposited
the sum of 125 ducats which you bring in question with Mr. Kaskel,
banker in Dresden, for the heirs of Beethoven, and from you, my dear
Sir, I expect the necessary information in this matter, since you must
have acquainted yourself with the necessary facts while writing your
notice. You must admit that hereafter I reserve the right to treat
this question as a personal one! In case the family of Beethoven has
died out there will be no other disposition of the money deposited
with Banker Kaskel than to pay it over to a charity or some other
cause which may be directly associated with the name and works of the
famous artist. Dresden, July 15-3, 1858.” Karl van Beethoven, sole
heir of the composer, had died three months previously, leaving a
widow and children, who were his heirs. Prince George’s money seemed
like a gift of Providence to the widow, who hastened, as soon as she
read the letter in a musical journal, to write to Holz as the friend
of the dead composer to collect the money for her and express her
gratitude to Prince George. Holz complied with part of her request
in a letter full of obsequiousness in which he accused Schindler of
scandalmongering and offered to provide the Prince with evidence of
that gentleman’s rascality. But he did not collect the money, which
lay still untouched in the vaults of Kaskel in 1861, when Madame van
Beethoven, having made a vain application to Prince George, addressed
a letter to Kaskel asking whether the money was still deposited with
him or had been withdrawn by Prince George. In the latter event she
stated that she wanted to contradict a statement circulating by the
public press that the heirs of Beethoven had received the gift. Kaskel
referred her to Ad. Reichel, a musical director in Dresden and a friend
of the Prince, through whom, indeed, the deposit had been made. On
April 28, 1861, she wrote to Reichel, reviewing the facts in the case
and stating her desire to apply the money, in case it was given to
her, to the musical education of her youngest daughter, Hermine van
Beethoven, then 8 years of age. Kaskel also wrote to Reichel, sending
him Madame van Beethoven’s letter and saying that as he had not heard
anything from Prince Galitzin for several years he intended to turn the
money over to the Municipal Court of Dresden in order to spare himself
all further correspondence in the matter. Kaskel wrote to the Prince on
May 7, 1861, asking him to prescribe a disposition of the money, for,
if Kaskel carried out his determination to send it to the court, it
would be frittered away. He urged that the money be given to Madame van
Beethoven. This revival of interest in the subject was evidently due
to Mr. Thayer’s activity in behalf of the widow and her daughter. Mr.
Thayer was in London in 1860 and evidently took up the matter with the
Prince. He makes no mention of the subject in his notice written for
Grove’s “Dictionary”; but among his letters the present writer found
the following letter, evidently written on the eve of his departure
from England in February, 1861:

“Dear Mr. Thayer. Prince Galitzin has asked me to remit to you the
enclosed letters, praying you kindly to act for him in the affair, as
you will soon be on the spot. He begs you, however, to bear in mind the
necessity off proving that the money for these Quartets has not been
paid (I fear an impossibility!); but however vexatious this may be to
poor Mad. v. B. everyone must defer to the obstacle to her having the
money: in the awkward light in which it places the Prince’s father.
From what I can gather from his conversation he will be most satisfied
to have the money appropriated for the purpose you suggested: the M. S.
S. At all events Prince G. is quite content to leave the matter in your
hands. Wishing you a pleasant journey and speedy return, believe me,
dear Mr. Thayer, Yours sincerly Natalia Macfarren.”

The editor’s efforts to learn the ultimate disposition of the money
deposited with Kaskel have been in vain. Mr. Thayer’s papers contain
no hint of the steps which may have been taken after Mrs. Macfarren’s
appeal to Prince George; the banking house of Kaskel is gone out
of existence; Nephew Karl’s daughter, Hermine, is dead. For three
years, from 1866 to 1869, she was a student in the pianoforte and
harmonium classes of the Conservatory at Vienna, and it seems likely
that Mr. Thayer succeeded in having the Dresden deposit applied to her
education; but if so he left no memorandum of that fact amongst the
papers which have come under the editor’s eyes.

[150] Under the agreement it was to be the exclusive property of the
Philharmonic Society for a year and a half.

[151] This interesting letter is now owned by Dwight Newman of Chicago.

[152] Though there is no authority for doing so it seems impossible not
to associate the following three-part canon, which may be found in the
B. and H. Complete Edition, with this amusing anecdote:

[Illustration:

Signor Abbate! io sono, io sono, io sono ammalato!
(Signor Abbate! I’m ailing, I’m ailing, I’m ailing, I am ailing!

Santo Padre vieni e datemi la benedizione, la benedizione.
Holy Father! hasten, hasten to me, hasten to me, hasten, and give
me thy blessing!

Hol’ Sie der Teufel, wenn Sie nicht kommen, hol’ Sie der Teufel,
wenn Sie nicht kommen, hol’ Sie der Teufel!
Go to the devil, unless you hasten, go to the devil, unless you
hasten, go to the devil!)
]

[153] “The name is something like the breaking of an axletree,” wrote
Beethoven to Haslinger in October.

[154] The description is based on that made by Thayer when he visited
Gneixendorf in 1860.

[155] The romancing biographers who copy Schindler and Gerhard von
Breuning in their accusations that Johann van Beethoven was prompted
only by the meanest motives of self-interest in all his dealings
with his great brother will have a difficult task to explain away
the evidence to the contrary afforded by the Conversation Books. The
proposition that the two make a common home in Vienna had come from
Ludwig and been urged by him. After Johann had acquired the estate
at Gneixendorf he made repeated efforts to persuade his brother to
spend his summer vacation there. In 1823 Beethoven wrote: “He always
wants me to come to his people--_non possibile per me_.” The obstacle
was Johann’s wife, who had become one of “his people” because of the
composer’s interference with Johann’s private affairs at Linz. Urged on
by Ludwig, Johann had taken action against the woman and made himself
master of his household. In a Conversation Book of 1824 may be read
in Johann’s hand: “My wife has surrendered her marriage contract and
entered into an obligation permitting me to drive her away without
notice at the first new acquaintance which she makes.” Beethoven seems
to have asked, “Why do you not do it!” for Johann continues: “I cannot
do that. I cannot know but that some misfortune might befall me.” Then
Karl takes the pencil: “Your brother proposes that you spend the four
months at his place. You would have 4 or 5 rooms, very beautiful,
high and large. Everything is well arranged; you will find fowls,
oxen, cows, hares, etc. Moreover, as regards the wife, she is looked
upon as a housekeeper only and will not disturb you. The scenery is
glorious and it will not cost you a penny. There is a housekeeper;
water containing iron, an individual bathroom, etc. If you do not take
it he will give up five rooms and announce the fact in the newspapers.”
Beethoven, obviously, brings forward his objection to Johann’s wife,
for Karl writes: “That matter has come to an end. You will scarcely see
the woman. She looks after the housekeeping and works. All the more
since she is completely tamed. Besides, she has promised to conduct
herself properly.” Other matters are discussed and then Johann writes:
“It looks to me as if you did not want to come because it will not
cost you anything. Who will look after our household affairs? Who will
endure our humors?” In another book Karl writes that Johann had often
said that his brother could have everything for nothing at Gneixendorf.

[156] Page 77 _et seq._ The article was based largely on information
gathered by Mr. Thayer at Gneixendorf in 1860 and had been submitted to
him for revision.

[157] Third class is what is talked about in the Conversation Books.

[158] Holz told Jahn that Schlesinger had bought it for 80 ducats and
sent 360 florins in payment; whereupon Beethoven had said “If a Jew
sends circumcised ducats he shall have a circumcised Quartet. That’s
the reason it is so short.”

Chapter IX

Karl van Beethoven--A Wayward Ward and an Unwise
Guardian--Beethoven and His Nephew--An Ill-advised Foster-father
and a Graceless, Profligate Nephew--Effect on Beethoven’s
Character of the Guardianship--An Unsuccessful Attempt at
Self-destruction--Karl is Made a Soldier.

We are now to learn of the calamitous consequences of Beethoven’s
effort to be a foster-father to the son of his dead brother Kaspar. The
tale is one that has been fruitful of fiction in most of the writings
which have dealt with the life-history of the great composer; nor is
the circumstance to be wondered at. There is still some obscurity
in the story, and if there is anything in the melancholy lot of the
great man, next to his supreme affliction, calculated to challenge
the pity of the world, it is the manner in which his efforts to
attach to himself the one human being for whom he felt affection were
requited. There is no more pitiful picture in the history of great men
than that presented by his devotion to the lad in whom, for a reason
which must have seemed to him more inscrutable than his own physical
calamity, he could not inspire a spark of love or a scintilla of
gratitude. It was an unwise devotion and an ill-directed effort, but
that does not alter the case. From the beginning, all of his friends
recognized Beethoven’s unfitness for the office of guardian of his
nephew. He was incapacitated for it by his occupation, his irregular
mode of life, his lack of understanding of a child’s nature, his
irresolute mind, his infirmities of temper, and the wretchedness of
his domestic surroundings due to his ignorance of and indifference to
the things essential to the amenities and comforts of social life.
He did not assume the guardianship in a spirit of gentle obedience
to a dying brother’s request; he violently wrested it unto himself
alone in defiance of that brother’s last entreaties. There can be no
doubt but that he believed that in doing so he was performing a pious
duty toward his own flesh and blood and acting for the good of the
child and the welfare of the community. He was proud of the boy’s
intellectual gifts, which were out of the ordinary; he dreamed of
seeing him great and respected in the eyes of the world; he wanted
loving companionship now, and in his old age; he hungered for sympathy
and for help which would not keep him in bonds of obligation to
men whose disinterestedness he could not understand because of his
suspicious disposition; he desired to see by his side and in his kin
an incarnation of that polite learning and that practical knowledge
of worldly affairs which had been denied to him. All his aims were
laudable, all his desires natural and praiseworthy; but he was the last
man in the world to know how to attain them. There can be no doubt
that his stubborn insistence upon making himself the sole director
of the welfare of his ward cost him the sympathy, perhaps also the
respect and regard, of many of those whose counsel he was perforce
compelled to seek. For a long time until the final and woeful trial
came it separated him from the oldest and truest friend that he had
in Vienna--Stephan von Breuning. It tested the patience and tried the
forbearance of those who helped him in his mistaken zeal.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S MORAL NATURE MARRED]

Moreover, it may be said without harshness or injustice to his memory
that its consequences to his own moral nature were most deplorable. In
a mind and heart prone to equity and tenderness it developed a strange
capacity for cruel injustice. Aided by his native irresolution it
twisted his judgment and turned his conduct into paradox. To satisfy
his own love for the boy he strove fiercely to stifle a child’s natural
affection for its mother. He thought that love for himself would grow
out of hatred of the woman, though the passion which he tried to
evoke was abhorrent to every instinct of nature. It matters not that
the mother of Karl was profligate and lewd. Once a glimmer of that
fact dawned upon him. It was while he was struggling to prevent all
intercourse between the widow and her child in the early years that
he was compelled to admit that to a child under all circumstances a
mother is a mother still; but he made the confession to extenuate the
conduct of the boy, not to justify the solicitude of the woman. His
memory of his own mother, the sweet, patient sufferer of Bonn, was
to him like a benison his whole life long. “Who was happier than I
when I could still speak the sweet word ‘mother’ and have it heard,”
he wrote to Dr. Schade, who had helped him on his sorrowful journey
from Vienna to Bonn in 1787. But from the time that his brother Kaspar
died until he himself gave up the ghost he was unswervingly occupied
in preventing communication between Kaspar’s widow and her son. After
more than twelve years he found that what he had tried to eradicate
in the child, still lived in the youth. He had fought against nature
and failed; and the failure filled him with bitterness, added to his
hatred of the woman and his disappointment with the son. Such intensity
of malevolence, though it may have had its origin in the profoundest
conviction of virtuous purpose, could not fail to be prejudicial to
his own moral character. So, also, his solicitude for his ward’s
material welfare, which extended to a time when he should no longer
be able to make provision for him, seems to have warped his nature.
It weakened his pride; distorted his moral view; subjected him, not
always unjustly, to accusation of dishonesty in his dealings with his
patrons and publishers; made him parsimonious, and at the last brought
upon him the reproach of having begged alms of his English friends,
though possessed of property which might easily and quickly have been
converted into money to supply his last needs more than generously.

To protect him against indictment for these moral flaws, many of
Beethoven’s biographers thought, and still think, it necessary or
justifiable to veil the truth and magnify the transgressions of his
kindred and friends. His earliest apologists may have had other
reasons besides these for so doing; his present biographers have
none. By his own decree the world is entitled to know the truth.
Schindler was embittered against Holz; Holz against Schindler; both
against Johann van Beethoven, the brother; Beethoven himself taught
his nephew to despise his uncle Johann as well as Schindler; and all
three--Schindler, Holz and Johann--commissioned to that end, reported
their observations of the lad’s shortcomings to his guardian. He
accepted everything they said against the boy as he did everything
they said against each other; indeed, his suspicious nature made him
prone to believe evil of everyone near to him; and we do not know of a
certainty that their reports were always within the bounds of strict
veracity. After the tragedy they were unanimous in condemnation of
the misguided, wayward, wicked youth and in praise of Beethoven’s
magnanimity and self-sacrifice; but the evidence of helpful advice,
warning and admonition to the mariner who was sailing a craft on a sea
full of dangers to which nature had made him blind is not plentiful.
Holz was young. He had scarcely finished sowing his own wild oats, and
he seems to have been more lenient in his judgment than his elders,
though just as convinced of the dangers into which the young man was
running during the fateful last two years; but the few practical
suggestions which we find him making do not seem to have been accepted.
He was himself, like everybody else, under suspicion in Beethoven’s
mind.

Concerning the details of the always disgraceful and at the end
tragical conduct of Beethoven’s nephew much obscurity is left after the
most painstaking study of the evidence to be found in the contemporary
documents which have been preserved; but it is to these documents
that appeal must be made if the truth is to be learned, not to the
generalizations of romancing biographers. Twenty-nine letters written
by Beethoven to the youth came into the hands of Beethoven after the
attempt at suicide and through Schindler into the Royal Library at
Berlin. However they may be viewed, they are a pathetic monument. They
are a deeply affecting memorial of his almost idolatrous love for one
wholly unworthy to receive it; but they also help measurably to explain
why Beethoven defeated his own benevolent intentions. In them the
paradoxes in his nature are piled one on top of the other. Alternately
they breathe tender affection, gentle admonition and violent
accusation; pride in the lad’s mental gifts, hope for his future, and
loathing of his conduct; proclamations of his own self-sacrificing
devotion set off against his ward’s ingratitude; pleadings that the boy
love him and hate his mother; proud condemnation and piteous prayers
for forgiveness; petitions for the boy’s reformation and promises of
betterment in his own conduct. They give out the light in which the
story must be told, though they contribute but little to the record
of concrete facts. They leave us to conjecture and surmise as to many
of the nephew’s motives and actual doings. It is from the pages of
the Conversation Books of 1825 and 1826 that practically all of the
attested truth concerning the happenings, their causes and effects,
must be learned. Letters and these records of conversations are at the
base of the following recital.[159]

[Sidenote: STUDY BECOMES IRKSOME TO KARL]

Karl was taken from his studies at the Blöchlinger Institute in the
fall of 1823 and matriculated at the University of Vienna, where he
pursued studies in philology from that time until the summer of 1825.
Though his gifts were unquestioned and his attainments such as to make
Beethoven eager to exploit them, he was not an industrious student.
He seems to have experienced a desire to abandon the career which his
uncle wished him to follow--that of a professor of languages, no
doubt--before he had sat under the university lectures a year. His
zeal for study soon evaporated, he spent much time in idle amusements,
neglected to visit his uncle with the regularity expected from him,
and soon broached the subject of a change in his intended pursuits.
As early as 1824 he expressed a desire to enter the army. The thought
was little short of appalling to Beethoven, who was obliged, however,
at last to listen to arguments in favor of a mercantile career. Karl
pointed out that a bookkeeper earned a great deal more money than a
professor, that trade was honorable, and that he intended to keep on
with his study of the languages, especially Greek, for his own pleasure
and intellectual profit. Meanwhile he had continued his attendance on
the lectures at the university, and it was not until towards the end
of the Easter semester of 1825 that Beethoven consented to the change,
entered him in the Polytechnic Institute, and arranged to have the
vice-director of the Institute, Dr. Reisser, appointed co-guardian in
place of Peters, with whom he took counsel as he also did, in great
likelihood, with Stephan von Breuning. There were two great admirers
of Beethoven’s music in the Institute, Reisser and Dr. Ignaz von
Sonnleithner, one of the teachers, and after Karl had been placed
under the supervision of a government official named Schlemmer, who
lived in the Alleegasse adjacent to the Karlskirche, with whom the lad
took lodgings, all seemed again to be well. He entered the Institute
about Easter, 1825, and, if his own statements are to be accepted
(Dr. Reisser, too, makes favorable reports of him), he made a good
beginning in his new studies. His Sundays and holidays during the
ensuing summer were spent with his uncle at Baden, where he was kept
at work, too assiduously perhaps, writing Beethoven’s letters, and
filling numerous other commissions. But his zeal did not endure. He
became negligent in his studies; work became irksome and the pleasures
of the city alluring. He was drawn willingly into the maelstrom of
Viennese life. He grew fond of billiards, dancing and the theatre;
he kept low company. Of all this there can be no doubt. Beethoven
kept himself informed as to his conduct through Holz, through his
brother, and sometimes went to Vienna himself to make inquiries. When
Karl comes to Baden, Beethoven charges him with his shortcomings and
there are unseemly scenes between the two. At first Karl seeks to be
conciliatory, but it is only too plain that he is not always frank and
truthful in his replies. The chronological course of events as learned
from the Conversation Books cannot be set down with exactitude; nor
is it necessary that it should. A young rake’s progress can easily
be imagined, but some incidents may be included in this narrative, as
showing the changing attitude of guardian and ward, uncle and nephew,
toward each other, and some of the steps which led to the final
catastrophe.

At an early date in this period Beethoven had become suspicious of
the character of some of Karl’s associates, particularly of a lad
of his own age named Niemetz, whose acquaintance, it was said, he
made at his mother’s. Whether or not this is true cannot be proved;
but if Beethoven believed it that fact sufficed to convince him of
the young man’s moral turpitude. Certain it is that the mother knew
Niemetz and thought as well of him as the uncle thought ill, for one
of her exclamations after the attempt at self-destruction, reported
to Beethoven, was, “What will good Niemetz say!” Beethoven forbade
the association and a violent quarrel ensued in Baden, where Karl
introduced his friend to his uncle. It seems likely that the encounter
took place in a public room and that Beethoven could not wait until
he had reached the privacy of his lodgings before expressing his
dissatisfaction with the young man; for his remarks to Karl as well as
the latter’s replies are written in the book. Beethoven’s denunciations
stir up a spirit of defiance in his ward; he finally declares flatly
that Niemetz had cheered his unhappy hours at Blöchlinger’s and that he
would not now lie by saying that he would cease loving his friend or
admit that he had a bad character.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN PLEADS WITH HIS NEPHEW]

Beethoven learns that Karl goes to the theatre, has been seen in the
company of lewd women, frequents dancing places, plays billiards and
borrows money. Holz, who once suggests the advisability of assuming
the co-guardianship, thinks it might be a good thing could he attach
the young man to himself by becoming his often companion. He invites
him to a beerhouse to learn his drinking habits and reports favorably
upon them. He talks with Karl about the theatre and advises him to
go less to the Josephstadt playhouse and oftener to the Burg, where
classical pieces are played; and learning that Karl attends the former
because it costs him nothing, ventures the statement that his uncle
will allow him money for the theatre if he will but go to the better
place. Beethoven’s views on the subject are expressed in a letter:
“Let the theatre alone for the present.” After the wicked deed, Holz
reminded Beethoven that Johann van Beethoven had said that Karl knew
every strumpet in Vienna and that investigation had disclosed that he
was right. Karl goes to dances; Beethoven is so solicitous as to their
character that he expressed a desire to go to some of them with Holz so
as to learn what they are like, and Holz dissuades him on the ground
that he would be stared at and it would cause public comment; but he
offers to take him to a hall “of the reformed” in the Apollo Room,
where he would be less observed. Beethoven fears that Karl’s passion
for billiards will lead him astray, and Holz says he will sometime go
with the lad to see how well he plays and thus learn whether or not
he plays much.[160] Karl is now nearly 20 years old, but Beethoven
does not, or will not, know that he is no longer to be disciplined as
a child. He commands Schlemmer that he is not to be permitted to go
out at night except on written permission signed by him. He exhausts
Dr. Reisser’s patience with his frequent calls to learn of the young
man’s habits and conduct. He takes upon himself the task of the
ancient pedagogue and waits for him upon the steps of the Institute to
accompany him home. His illness and melancholy, due to his solitary
life in Baden, increase and he is haunted by premonitions of death. In
a Conversation Book he once writes what seems to be the title of an
imaginary composition “On the Death of Beethoven.” On June 9, 1825, he
writes to Karl: “You know how I live here. To this is added the cold
weather. This solitude weakens me still more, for my weakness really
often borders on a swoon. O, do not pain me more! The man with the
scythe will not give me much more time.” In the same summer: “God will
set me free from them. _Libera me domine de illis etc._” and “God be
with you and me. It will soon be all over with your faithful father.”
His loneliness oppresses him more and more as fears for his nephew’s
fate and recognition of his own impotency to avert it pursue him. “God
has never deserted me. Somebody will be found who will close my eyes,”
he writes on September 14. Tenderness and reproach alternate in the
letters written from Baden in the summer of 1825. With the young man’s
habits of extravagance he has no patience whatever. He insists on a
strict accounting for every florin which he allows him and is enraged
when he hears that Karl has not forgotten his boyish trick of borrowing
from the servants. He contrasts his own habits of thrift with the
prodigence of his ward: “I should have gotten along two years with the
walking-coat. True, I have the bad habit of always wearing an old coat
at home, but Mr. Karl--O, what a shame! And why? The money-bag Mr. L.
v. B-n is here only for this purpose.”

The thought of laying down the guardianship occupies his mind over and
over again and his friends without exception urge him to do it; but he
clings to the office, hoping against hope for his nephew’s reclamation.
Crises of apprehension and foreboding produce tender appeals and
piteous expostulations like these:

If you find me violent, ascribe it to my great concern for
yourself, beset as you are by many dangers.

I hope at least to receive a letter from you to-morrow. Do not make
me fear. O, think of my sufferings! By good right I ought to have
no cares of this kind; but what have I not experienced!

Reflect that I am sitting here and might easily fall ill.

God is my witness, I dreamed only of being rid of you and of this
miserable brother and the hideous family which he foisted upon me.
God hear my prayer for I can _never_ trust you again. Unfortunately
your father--or rather, not your father.

In the beginning of October, 1825, Karl absented himself from his
lodgings for several days. Where he went and what he did is a secret
held by the dead; but repentance of some sort, or consideration of the
fact that he was dependent upon his uncle, seems to have persuaded him
to write to Beethoven and beg his forgiveness. On the 5th of the month
Beethoven wrote from Baden:

Precious, dear son!

I have just received your letter. Already filled with anxiety I had
to-day determined to hurry to Vienna. God be thanked, it is not
necessary. Do but obey me and love and happiness of the soul paired
with human happiness will be at our side and you will consort an
intensive existence with the external, but it were better that the
_former_ dominate the _latter_.--_il fait trop froid_--I am to see
you on Saturday, then, write whether you are coming in the morning
or evening so that I may hasten to meet you.--I embrace you and
kiss you a thousand times not my _lost_ (prodigal) _but my new-born
son_. I wrote to Schlemmer--do not think harshly on that account--I
am still so full of fear.

The letter has been mutilated and the remainder is unintelligible, all
but a request in bad French for matches. But his impatience to see the
returned prodigal was stronger than his purpose to wait for him in
Baden. He went to Vienna and evidently sent the following letter from
Karl’s lodgings:

My precious son:

Go no further--Come but to my arms, not a harsh word shall you
hear. O God, do not rush to destruction.... You shall be received
lovingly as ever. What to consider, what to do in the future--this
we will talk over affectionately. On my word of honor no
reproaches, since they would in no case do good now. Henceforth you
may expect from me only the most loving care and help. Do but come.
Come to the faithful heart of your father.

Beethoven.

_Volti sub._

Come home at once on getting this.

_Si vous ne viendres pas rous me tuerés surement lisès la lettre et
restés a la maison chez vous, venes de m’embrasser votre pere vous
vraiment adonné soyes assurés, que tout cela resterá entre nous._

(On the margin): Only for God’s sake come back home to-day. It
might bring you, who knows what danger. Hurry, hurry!

[Sidenote: THE NEPHEW RESENTS DISCIPLINE]

In the summer of 1826, Beethoven’s plans with reference to the
supervision of his nephew are divided between an abandonment of the
guardianship and taking the young man back into his own lodgings. The
latter alternative at least did not meet with Karl’s approval, who
pleads against it the great loss of time in coming and going to the
distant Institute; besides, he says, “it is only one year more and
then there will be no more separation.” With such feigned expressions
of gentle feeling, with smiles and occasional cajolings, Karl had
learned that he could at any time bend “the old fool,” as he once
called him in a letter to Niemetz, to his wishes. The fact is that
Beethoven’s attempts at discipline had long ago become irksome to his
nephew and his authority a burden which it was pleasant to forget in
the opportunities which freedom brought. He absents himself more and
more from Beethoven’s lodgings and spends less and less time at his
own. The “miserable brother” is told by Beethoven to find out why,
and reports the result of a talk which he had upon the subject with
Karl, who had replied, in effect: the reason he did not come oftener
was that he dreaded the noisy encounters which always followed and the
continual reminders of past transgressions. Also the turbulent scenes
between his uncle and the servants. Johann takes occasion to tell his
brother that he might win the young man to him by a different mode of
treatment. He is apprehensive of the consequences of idleness and urges
that as soon as Karl completes his studies at the Institute, a place
be found for him in either a local or foreign business house. “In the
latter case,” he continues, “place the guardianship in Bach’s hands.
You are as little able as I to run after him always.” Beethoven’s
concern is so great that he is willing to take counsel of Schindler,
whom he had so unsparingly and, we believe, unjustly denounced to his
nephew. Schindler is ready with advice, but first takes advantage of
the opportunity to air his grudge against Holz: “do not depend upon him
in this matter,” he says in a recorded conversation. Karl’s requests
for money excite his guardian’s misgivings and he demands to see the
receipts for tuition fees and other expenditures. The growing feeling
between guardian and ward, and some of its causes, are reflected in
the record of a conversation at Karl’s lodgings in 1826, when the
crisis is rapidly approaching. It is Karl who speaks, but the tenor of
Beethoven’s utterances is easily to be surmised:

You consider it insolence if, after you have upbraided me for hours
undeservedly, this time at least, I cannot turn from my bitter
feeling of pain to jocularity. I am not so frivolous as you think.
I can assure you that since the _attack_ on me in the presence of
this fellow I have been so depressed that the people in the house
observed it. The receipt for the 80 florins which were paid in May
I now positively know, after a search at home, I gave you; it must
and no doubt will be found. If I continue to work while you are
here it is not in a spirit of insolence, but because I believe that
you will not be offended if I do not permit your presence to keep
me from my labors, which are now really piling up on me--all the
more since we see each other _here_, where there is time, enough to
talk over all needful things. You are mistaken, too, when you think
that I wait for your coming to _become industrious_. You also seem
to accept as _my views_ what I repeat to you as the opinions of
others as, for instance, the word of Haslinger and the twaddle of
Frau Passy. I know very well what to think of such gossip, but did
not consider it my duty to inform you about it. I hope that what I
have said will serve to convince you of my real views and feelings
and put an end to the strain which has existed of late between us,
though not on my side by any means.

This is not the speech of filial love and obedience, but neither is
it the language of a naughty child. There ought to be no doubt but
that such exhibitions of independence and resentment, coupled with
intimations of still greater independence of conduct, frequently
filled Beethoven with consternation and apprehension. Once, to judge
of a recorded remark by Holz, Karl seems to have raised his hand in
physical violence against the uncle. Holz says: “I came in just as
he took you by the breast. At the door, as he was coming out.” It is
the only allusion to the incident in the book and we know none of the
particulars; but it and other scenes of tumult and the utterances which
they provoked must have inspired the dreadful conflict of emotions
which finds expression in a letter written at this time:

If for no other reason than that you obeyed me, at least, all
is forgiven and forgotten; more to-day by word of mouth, very
quietly--Do not think of me otherwise than as governed wholly by
thoughts for your well-being, and from this point of view judge my
acts. Do not take a step which might make you unhappy and shorten
_my_ life. I did not get asleep until 3 o’clock, for I coughed all
night long. I embrace you cordially and am convinced that you will
soon cease longer to _misjudge_ me; it is thus that I also judge of
your conduct yesterday. I expect you surely to-day at 1 o’clock.
Do not give me cause for further worry and apprehension. Meanwhile
farewell!

Your real and true Father.

We shall be alone, for which reason I shall not permit H. to
come--the less since I do not wish anything about yesterday to be
known.

Do come--Do not permit _my poor heart to bleed longer_.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN GROWS APPREHENSIVE]

A poor heart, indeed! One that knew not how to win the love for which
it hungered; and a mind “perplex’d in the extreme.” That love still
went out to the unworthy mother in spite of entreaties, warnings,
lamentations, threats. In May, 1826, already at Baden, Beethoven hears
that Karl has again visited her; and on the 22nd he writes:

Till now only suspicions, although I have received assurances from
one that there is again secret intercourse between you and your
mother. Am I again to experience the most abominable ingratitude?!
No; if the bond is broken, be it so. You will make yourself hated
by all impartial persons who hear of this ingratitude.... I ought
not to mix into these miserable affairs. If the pact oppresses you
then in God’s name--I leave you to Divine Providence. I have done
my duty and am ready to appear before the Supreme Judge. Do not
fear to come to me to-morrow. As yet I only suspect--God grant that
_nothing_ be true, for your misfortune would truly be incalculable
indifferently as the rascally brother and possibly your--mother
would take it.

Late in July, 1826, an intimation of some desperate purpose formed
and expressed by the nephew was carried to Beethoven. The date is
uncertain, but it was probably on Saturday, the 29th. The intention may
have been self-destruction, but it needed to be no more than a purpose
to go out into the world, beyond an irksome supervision, to fill
Beethoven’s soul with a terrible fear. He called Holz and together they
went to Schlemmer’s house in the Alleegasse. Schlemmer told all he knew
in a few phrases which must have seemed shrouded with a pall as they
fell upon the page of his book:

I learned to-day that your nephew intended to shoot himself before
next Sunday at the latest. As to the cause I learned only this
much, that it was by reason of his debts,--but not of a certainty;
he admitted only in part that they were the consequences of former
sins. I looked to see if there were signs of preparations. I found
a loaded pistol in a chest together with bullets and powder. I tell
you this so that you may act in the case as his father. The pistol
is in my keeping. Be lenient with him or he will despair.

Holz went at once to the Polytechnic Institute and there found Karl,
who agreed to go back with him to Schlemmer’s, but said that he must
first go to a friend’s house and get some papers. Holz engaged Dr.
Reisser in conversation while he waited for Karl to return. “A pistol!”
remarked Reisser, “the young comedy hero!” But Karl had lied; he did
not come back to the Institute and Holz returned to Beethoven with his
story:

He will not stay here. I could not detain him. He said he would go
to Schlemmer’s, but wanted to get his papers from a friend while I
talked with Reisser. He would not be gone more than a quarter of an
hour.

Beethoven apparently rebukes him for letting his ward out of his sight.
Holz:

He would have run away from you just the same. If he has made up
his mind to injure himself no one can prevent him. He has till
September 3 to make up his examinations.... He said to me: “What
good will it do you to detain me? If I do not escape to-day I will
at another time.”

Schlemmer reported the finding of another pistol. A new suspicion
seized upon the mind of Beethoven. For some reason, though he may
also have uttered it orally, he wrote it down in the book: “He will
drown himself.” Probably he did not want the bystanders to know his
thoughts, and the fear was therefore committed to the written page
for the instruction of Holz. What else was said at the time we do not
know, for the book here shows a mutilation; some pages are missing.
Perhaps Schindler removed them in later years to save the integrity of
his account; or they may have been torn out by Beethoven himself when,
some weeks later, Holz advised him to look through his books against
their possible demand for examination by the police magistrate; they
might contain references to affairs which he did not want to bring
into public discussion. The missing pages might have helped us in the
chronology of the story, but the main facts are before us without them.
It was resolved first to go to the house of Niemetz, who it was thought
might be privy to Karl’s intentions, and then if necessary, to call in
the help of the police.

[Sidenote: A BUNGLING ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE]

Meanwhile Karl, having given Holz the slip, went straight to a
pawnbroker and pledged his watch. With the money he bought two pistols,
powder and balls. He did not dare go to his lodgings for the pistols
which he had in readiness for the contemplated deed, and the new ones
were therefore necessary. For him the circumstance proved fortunate. He
drove out to Baden, and spent the night in writing letters. One was to
his uncle, and this he enclosed in one to his friend Niemetz. The next
morning, it being a Sunday, he climbed up to the ruins of Rauhenstein,
in the lovely Helenenthal which his uncle loved so well, and there
discharged both pistols toward his left temple. He was a bungler with
firearms. The first bullet flew past harmlessly; the second ripped
up the flesh and grazed the bone, but did not penetrate the skull.
Holz said afterwards that, had he taken with him the pistols which he
was obliged to leave at his lodgings, he would have been a dead man;
their barrels were charged with powder and ball to above the middle.
A teamster came upon him lying among the ruins and, no doubt at his
request, carried him to his mother’s house in the city. There Beethoven
found him, whether in a search for him or because of intelligence
brought by the teamster is not clear. The uncle is anxious to learn the
particulars of the tragedy, but he receives a sullen answer; “It is
done. Now, only a surgeon who can hold his tongue. Smetana, if he is
here. Do not plague me with reproaches and lamentations; it is past.
Later all matters may be adjusted.” “When did it happen?” Beethoven
asks and the mother writes the answer: “He has just come. The teamster
carried him down from a rock in Baden and has just driven out to
you.--I beg of you to tell the surgeon not to make a report or they
will take him away from here at once, and we fear the worst. There is a
bullet in his head on the left side.”

Smetana was the physician who had treated Karl when he was a boy at
Giannatasio’s school. Beethoven knew him as a friend. To him he wrote:

A great misfortune has happened to Karl accidentally by his own
hand. I hope that he can yet be saved, especially by you if you
come quickly. Karl has a _bullet_ in his head, how, you shall
learn--only quick, for God’s sake, quick!

In order to save time it was necessary to take him to his mother’s,
where he now is--the address follows.

Holz took this letter for delivery but before he left the place a
surgeon named Dögl had been called in. Smetana said that Dögl was a
capable practitioner and that in order not to compromise him he would
not come unless Dögl desired to see him in consultation. Karl expressed
himself as satisfied and the case was left for the time being in Dögl’s
hands. Beethoven went home, but Holz remained some time longer. The
matter had to be reported to the police and Holz thought it best to
do this himself, as he wanted to be able to inform Beethoven what the
consequences of the young man’s act were likely to be in case of his
recovery. He learned, and so reported, that there would be a severe
reprimand and thereafter police surveillance. He told Beethoven that,
after he had left him, Karl had said, “If he would only not show
himself again!” and “If he would only quit his reproaches!” He had
also threatened to tear the bandage from the wound if another word was
spoken to him about his uncle.

On August 7th, the day being a Monday,[161] the wounded youth, who by
his act was fallen into the hands of the law, was removed from his
mother’s house to the general hospital by the police authorities.
The deed was committed on a Sunday, as appears from parts of the
conversations which took place between Holz and Beethoven after the
fact was known. Holz says: “He left me yesterday, went straight into
the city, bought the pistols and drove to Baden”; and later: “He sold
his watch on Saturday and with the proceeds bought two new pistols.”
The obvious conclusion would seem to be that Karl shot himself on
Sunday, August 6; but there is evidence pointing to an earlier date.
The police authorities were not informed until somewhat late in the
day. An investigation had to be made and formalities complied with
before the removal to the hospital could take place. Schlemmer, in
reply to a question touching Karl’s indebtedness while Beethoven and
Holz were probing for a cause, said that he had been paid “for this
month, but not for August,” which indicates that the inquiry was made
in July. On September 11th, discussing the disposition to be made of
the nephew when he should leave the hospital and trying to persuade
Beethoven to grant Karl’s request that he be permitted to visit his
mother, Holz says: “In my opinion _one_ day will make no difference,
inasmuch as she was with him whole days after the shooting.” There are,
besides, evidences that conversations were held for several days during
which he was in the care of his mother. It is therefore probable that
the nephew made the attempt upon his life on Sunday, July 30. Schindler
says “in August” without giving a specific date. The evidence is not
entirely conclusive; but if Beethoven consented to leave the would-be
suicide in the hands of his mother for an entire week it was most
likely because the police authorities commanded it; he did not yield
her a day after her son came out of the hospital. At first, however,
Beethoven’s spirit was broken by the awful blow and he may have been
more pliant than usual. Holz, reporting to Beethoven, tells of an
interview at the hospital when he met the woman at her son’s bedside.
“If you have anything on your mind,” she enjoined, “tell your uncle
now. You see, this is the time; he is weak, and now he will surely do
anything you want.” Karl replied, sullenly: “I know nothing.” “How,”
Holz explains to Beethoven, “can any one find out a single trace so
long as he persists in remaining silent?” And he tells his friend of
the lack of “mercy” in the weeping mother for denouncing the conduct of
the guardian of her son!

No doubt the blow was a crushing one to Beethoven. On the fateful
Sunday, or the day after, he met the wife of Stephan von Breuning and
told her the tragical story. “And is he dead?” she inquired in tender
solicitude. “No,” was the answer, “it was a glancing shot; he lives
and there is hope that he will be saved. But the disgrace which he has
brought upon me! And I loved him so!” The occurrence was soon noised
about the city and much sympathy was expressed for Beethoven, as Holz
took occasion to inform him. Schindler says that the blow bowed the
proud figure of the composer and he soon looked like a man of seventy.
To add to his sufferings he was compelled to learn that many persons
placed part of the blame for the rash act upon him. Karl was placed
in the “men’s three-florin” ward, which was under the care of a Dr.
Gassner. He had an assistant named Dr. Seng, who told Gerhard von
Breuning long after, how Beethoven had come to visit his nephew and
described him as a “dissolute fellow” and “rascal,” one “who did not
deserve to be visited” and had been “spoiled by kindness.”

[Sidenote: REASONS FOR THE DEED]

Strenuous efforts were made by Beethoven through Holz and others to
discover what direct cause had led the misguided young man to attempt
to end his life. The inquiries made of him at the hospital during the
weeks spent there brought scarcely more information from his lips
than the first question asked by his mother. Schindler seems to have
been persuaded that it was his failure to pass his examinations at
the Polytechnic Institute; but this theory is not tenable. Aside from
the fact that he had time till September 3 to make up his neglected
studies, he never himself advanced this as an excuse or explanation,
but explicitly denied it. In the hospital he told Holz that it would
have been easy for him to make himself fit to pass, but that, having
made up his mind to do away with himself long before, he had not
thought it worth while to continue his studies. “He said that he
was tired of life,” Holz reports to Beethoven, “because he saw in
it something different from what you wisely and righteously could
approve.” He also phrased it thus: “Weariness of imprisonment.” To the
examining police magistrate Karl said that his reason for shooting
himself was that Beethoven “tormented him too much,” and also “I grew
worse because my uncle wanted me to be better.” To Beethoven’s question
if Karl had railed against him, Schlemmer replied: “He did not rail,
but he complained that he always had trouble.” Holz’s explanation many
years after to Otto Jahn was that Beethoven was “rigorous to excess
in his treatment and would not allow him the slightest extravagance.”
The chief cause, in greatest probability, was that he had hopelessly
involved himself in debts by a dissolute life. Schindler told Beethoven
that he not only played billiards but played with low persons, coachmen
and the like; and that he did not always play honestly. There is a
memorandum in a Conversation Book which discloses that Beethoven
received specific reports about his conduct, and noted them for
reference: “One night in the Prater.--2 nights did not sleep at home.”
Beethoven stinted him the matter of pocket-money, and the scores of
reckonings in the Conversation Books show how close was the watch
kept upon every kreutzer placed in his hands. So he had recourse to
borrowing and no doubt, though the fact does not appear plainly in
the books, he went into debt at the places which he frequented for
pleasure. When he shot himself he had paid his lodging bill for the
month but owed his tutor. A matter which gave Beethoven great concern
was the discovery that he had disposed of some of the composer’s books
at an antiquary’s. This was theft, a penal offence, and Beethoven seems
to have been in great trepidation lest the fact, and something more
dreadful still which he did not know, be discovered by the magistrate
charged with an examination into the case. Under the Austrian code an
attempt at suicide seems to have been an offence against the Church
and guilty persons were remanded in the care of priests who imparted
religious instruction until a profession of conversion could be
recorded. In the case of Karl, this medicine for the mind and soul
was administered by a Redemptorist, and, the Liguorian penances being
proverbially strict, Holz inspired the hope in Beethoven that Karl’s
secret would be discovered by the priest. “These Liguorians are like
leeches,” is one of his remarks to the composer while Karl is lying at
the hospital. It is pathetic to note that Beethoven himself, willing
as he was to charge his nephew with prevarication, extravagance,
deception and frivolity, yet sought an explanation for the act outside
of these delinquencies. In his hand appears a note in a Conversation
Book: “Mental aberration and insanity; the heat, too--afflicted with
headaches since childhood.”

[Sidenote: PLANNING A MILITARY LIFE FOR KARL]

Immediately after Karl’s removal to the hospital Holz visited him and
made a long report to Beethoven, from which it appears that there
was no delay in considering plans for the future. In fact, a prompt
decision was necessary, for it was the penal aspect of the case which
had the greatest terrors for Beethoven. Holz says: “Here you see
ingratitude as clear as the sun! Why do you want further to restrain
him? Once with the military, he will be under the strictest discipline,
and if you want to do anything more for him you need only make him a
small allowance monthly. A soldier at once.... Do you still doubt? This
is a marvellous document.” The last remark may have been called out,
indeed, it seems more than probable that it was, by the letter written
by the nephew on the eve of his attempt--a letter which has never been
found. Holz also urges: “Resign the guardianship; this will make an
impression on him.” Beethoven must now needs listen to upbraidings
because of his lenient treatment of his ward: “If your good nature had
not so often got the better of your firmness you would have driven him
away long ago”; but Beethoven still hungers for the ingrate’s love. He
asks about his feelings towards himself. Holz answers: “He said it was
not hatred of you which he felt, but something entirely different”; and
then he puts the question: “Did he mean fear?”

The day after the deed, Stephan von Breuning, himself unable to come,
sent Gerhard to his friend with a message: his parents wanted him to
take his meals with them so as not to be alone. Then Breuning comes,
and now he will receive advice on the advisability of a military life
from one fitted to give it, for von Breuning is a court councillor in
the war department. “A military life will be the best discipline for
one who cannot endure freedom; and it will teach him how to live on
little,” is one of Breuning’s first utterances.

Holz continues his visits to the hospital and his reports. His help was
now invaluable and he gave it unselfishly and ungrudgingly, winning
that measure of gratitude from Beethoven which found expression in the
letter empowering him to write his biography. He tells Beethoven that
Karl receives visits from four physicians four times a day. That the
magistrate is investigating the case and will send a priest to give the
patient religious instruction, and that his release from the hands of
the police authorities must wait upon his “complete conversion”; but
so long as there is danger of too much mental strain this instruction
will not be given. At ease in his mind touching the physical condition
of his ward, Beethoven is kept in a state of anxiety about the inquiry,
which is so protracted as to excite his apprehension that something
awful may be disclosed. He wants to go himself to see the “Minister”
(of Police, evidently) and dreads the ordeal of examination. “The court
will not annoy you,” Holz, tells him; “the mother and Karl at the
worst.”

Dr. Bach joined Breuning, Schindler and Holz in advising Beethoven to
resign the guardianship; but while the other three favored placing
Karl in the army, Bach urged that he be sent off at once to some
business house in Trieste, Milan or Hamburg without waiting for him
to make up his studies and pass the examination which seems necessary
to Beethoven. “Away with him from Vienna!” is the general cry, but
Beethoven hesitates; he still thinks that he must keep his ward
under his eye. In the Conversation Book he writes: “I wanted only to
accomplish his good; if he is abandoned now, something might happen.”
Meanwhile von Breuning in pursuance of his plan consulted Baron von
Stutterheim and persuaded him to give the young man a cadetship in
his regiment, and on September 11 Breuning is able to communicate
the success of his efforts to Beethoven who, as soon as he began to
consider the military proposition at all, had thought of his old
friend, General von Ertmann, the husband of his “Dorothea-Cäcilia.”
But the project failed, and Breuning carried the day for his plan and
agreed to accept the guardianship which had been laid down by Reisser.
The Court Councillor goes at matters in a practical way; he brings to
Beethoven von Stutterheim’s advice as to the allowance: he must not
give more than 12 florins in silver a month, as that was all that the
richest cadet in the service received.

Karl was unwilling to see his uncle, and Beethoven knew it. The latter
wrote to his nephew, however, and the affectionate tenor of the letters
met with the disapproval of both Holz and Schindler. Beethoven hoped
with them to win back his nephew’s love, but his advisers told him
they would do no good. He seems to have thought it necessary to learn
Karl’s opinion before consenting to von Breuning’s plan. He visited
Karl at the hospital, who, after asking his uncle to say as little as
possible about that which was past alteration, said that a military
life was the one in which he could be most satisfied and that he was
entirely capable of making a firm resolve and adhering to it. As a
cadet, promotion would be open to him. Beethoven, in planning to keep
the young man in Vienna, had suggested to his advisers that the mother
might be sent away--to Pressburg or Pesth. After it had been fixed that
Karl should enter the army as soon as possible after his discharge from
the hospital, the question arose as to what disposition should be made
of him in the interim. Beethoven was unalterably opposed to his being
with his mother even for a day. In an interview he brought the subject
up and began to berate her as usual; but Karl interrupted him:

[Sidenote: A SON DEFENDS HIS MOTHER]

I do not want to hear anything derogatory to her; it is not for
me to be her judge. If I were to spend the little time for which
I shall be here with her it would be only a small return for all
that she has suffered on my account. Nothing can be said of a
harmful influence on me even if it should happen, if for no other
reason than the brevity of the time. In no event shall I treat her
with greater coldness than has been the case heretofore ... let be
said what will.... (He tells his uncle that his mother will offer
no objection to his new calling.) All the less, therefore, can I
deny her wish to be with me now, as I shall in all likelihood not
be here again soon. It is self-evident that this will not prevent
you and me from seeing each other as often as you wish.

Very reluctantly Beethoven gave his consent that his nephew should
become a soldier, and he continued his solicitude for him, as is
disclosed by letters to Holz and von Breuning. His first thought was
to send him to a military institute and have him graduated as an
officer. This proved impracticable. Now he lays down three conditions
as to the cadetship: he must not be treated as a culprit, not be
compelled to live so meanly as to preclude his advancement, not be too
much restricted as to food and drink. The plans for this disposition
were made. He was to be presented to von Stutterheim as soon as he
was discharged from the hospital, take the oath of service the next
day, and leave Vienna for Iglau, where von Stutterheim’s regiment was
stationed, within five or six days. He was discharged as cured on
September 25. Breuning, who had assumed the guardianship, now found
himself confronted by a serious embarrassment. Where should the young
man be sent while the preparations for his entry into the military
service were making? Karl did not want to go to his uncle’s, nor did
von Breuning want to send him there, and frankly tells Beethoven his
reason: “If he were here you would talk to him too much and that would
cause new irritation; for he testified in the police court that the
reason why he had taken the step was because you harassed him too
much.” Beethoven feared that the magistrate might allow him to go to
his mother’s, and to guard against this he wrote two letters to that
official, a man kindly disposed toward him, named Czapka. In the first
he wrote:

I earnestly beg of you, since my nephew will be well in a few days,
to direct that he be not permitted to leave the hospital with
anybody but me and Mr. v. Holz. It must not possibly be allowed
that he be near his mother, this utterly depraved person. Her bad
and wickedly malicious character, the belief that she often tempted
Karl to lure money from me, the probability that she divided
sums with him and was also in the confidence of Karl’s dissolute
companion, the notice which she attracts with her illegitimate
daughter, the likelihood that at his m--’s he would make the
acquaintance of women who are anything but virtuous, justify my
solicitude and my request. Even the mere habit of being in the
company of such a person cannot possibly lead a young man to
virtue.

In a second letter he suggests that the magistrate admonish the
young man and give him to understand that he will be under police
surveillance while he is with his uncle. Beethoven’s brother was again
in Vienna. He had repeated his offer to give the composer a temporary
home and his nephew a harbor of refuge at Gneixendorf; but haste
was imperative, both on account of his business affairs and Karl’s
status. In three days the business of finishing the corrections in
the manuscript copy of the Ninth Symphony which was to be sent to the
King of Prussia, placing it in the hands of Haslinger, who was to have
it bound, and writing the letter to the King, was disposed of and on
September 28 the two brothers and their nephew set out for Gneixendorf.

FOOTNOTES:

[159] Beethoven’s letters to his nephew are presented in the original
in Vol. V of Thayer’s biography as completed by Dr. Deiters and revised
by Dr. Riemann. Also copious extracts from the Conversation Books.
These books, in Thayer’s transcript, have been consulted anew by the
present writer in his presentation of the case which he believes to
be in the spirit of Thayer, as he tried also to make the account
of the legal controversy over the guardianship. Nevertheless, the
editor believes it only right to assume full responsibility for his
utterances. The letters may be found in translation in Vol. II of Mr.
Shedlock’s edition of the Kalischer collection.

[160] It was Herbert Spencer who remarked to a young man who had beaten
him at billiards that while to be able to play well was a praiseworthy
accomplishment, such playing as he had just witnessed betokened an
ill-spent life.

[161] The date was obtained by Thayer from the records of the hospital
on September 22, 1862. F. Helm, then Director of the hospital,
certified to the facts of reception, treatment and discharge, but
stated that no history of the case could be found in the records.

Chapter X

The Last Days in Gneixendorf--A Brother’s Warning--Beethoven
and his Kinspeople--The Fateful Journey to
Vienna--Sickness--Schindler’s Disingenuousness--Conduct of the
Physicians--Death and Burial.

The Conversation Books add nothing to the picturesque side of the
account of Beethoven’s sojourn in Gneixendorf as it has been drawn from
other sources. They indicate that there were some days of peace and
tranquility, and that not only Johann, but his wife and nephew also,
were concerned with making the composer comfortable and providing him
with such diversion as place and opportunity afforded. At the outset
Beethoven seems to have been in a conciliatory mood even towards the
woman whom he so heartily despised; and her willingness to please him
is obvious. She talks with him about various things, praises Karl’s
musical skill, which the nephew demonstrates by playing four-hand
marches with his great uncle. She discusses his food with him, and
if he ever was suspicious of the honesty in money matters of herself
and her family, he hides his distrust and permits her brother, the
baker, to collect money for him in Vienna, and the woman to go thither
to fetch it. There are frequent walks into the country round about
and drives to neighboring villages, and it would seem from one of
Karl’s speeches that sometimes argument and warning were necessary to
dissuade Beethoven from undertaking promenades in inclement weather.
Characteristic of the suspicious nature which his dreadful malady
had developed in him to an abnormal degree, and confirmatory also
of Michael Krenn’s remark that he was always called upon to give an
account of the conversations at table, is the evidence that the wife,
Karl and even a woman boarder are questioned as to the goings-out and
comings-in of the inmates of the house. Before the departure from
Gneixendorf, Karl begins to chafe under his uncle’s discipline. Johann
is occupied with the affairs of the estate and Karl does errands for
him as well as his greater uncle in Krems, whither he is willing to
journey on foot as often as necessary, perhaps oftener, for there are
soldiers stationed at the village, there is a theatre, English circus
riders give an exhibition (to which Karl offers to accompany the
composer) and, what is perhaps more to the young man’s liking, there
is a billiard-room. Of this fact, however, we are informed later by a
remark recorded in the Conversation Books by Johann after the return
to Vienna. The old suspicions touching the reasons for Karl’s absence
from Wasserhof again arise to plague Beethoven’s mind, nor are they
dissipated by Madame van Beethoven’s repeated assurances that he will
return soon. It is plain that the young man is taken to task, not only
for these absences, but also for what his uncle looked upon as moody
and defiant silences when suffering rebuke. Thus we read:

You ask me why I do not talk. Because I have enough. Yours is the
right to command; I must endure everything.... I can give no answer
as to what you say; the best I can do is to hear and remain silent,
as is my duty.

At a later period, when Beethoven has apparently upbraided the young
man for his unwillingness to return to Vienna, Karl retorts:

If you want to go, good; if not, good again. But I beg of you once
more not to torment me as you are doing; you might regret it, for I
can endure much, but not too much. You treated your brother in the
same way to-day without cause. You must remember that other people
are also human beings.--These everlastingly unjust reproaches!--Why
do you make such a disturbance? Will you let me go out a bit
to-day? I need recreation. I’ll come again later.--I only want to
go to my room.--I am not going out, I want only to be alone for a
little while.--Will you not let me go to my room?

[Sidenote: A RETURN TO VIENNA PRECIPITATED]

Karl was a young man of nearly twenty years; thriftless, no doubt;
indolent, no doubt; fond of his ease and addicted to idle pleasures,
no doubt--but still a man; and no matter how much he ought to have
been willing to sacrifice himself to make his uncle happy, it is a
question if there was any way in the world to that sure and permanent
result. He was not wise enough, nor self-sacrificing enough, to do
that which not a single one of the composer’s maturer friends, not
even Stephan von Breuning, had been able to do. Once in the Books he
shows a disposition to resort to the wheedling tactics which had been
frequently successful in earlier years, and urges as a reason for
tarrying longer in Gneixendorf that it will make possible their longer
companionship. He is pleading for a week’s longer stay: Breuning had
said that he should not present himself to the Fieldmarshal until
no evidences of the recent “incident” were longer visible; in a week
more the scar would not be noticeable, nor would a stay be necessary
had he provided himself with pomade; then he remarks: “The longer we
are here the longer we shall be together; for when we are in Vienna
I shall, of course, have to go away soon.” It was after this speech
that he made the remark already referred to about the cheapness of
fire-wood. Karl had plainly grown more than content with his life in
Gneixendorf and there is evidence to show that Beethoven had begun
to fear that he was wavering in his determination to enter the army.
Some drastic measure or occurrence was necessary to change the native
irresolution of Beethoven’s mind. Schindler, in his desire to paint
all the Beethovens, with the exception of the composer, with the
blackest pigments on his imaginative palette, does not scruple to
accuse Karl of undue intimacy with his aunt and offers this as a reason
for the departure. To this no reference can be found in the pages of
the Conversation Books, unless it be a remark which preceded Karl’s
outburst, last recorded. Here he tells his uncle that all his “talk
about intrigues needs no refutation.” The reference is vague and it
is extremely unlikely that the intrigues meant were those involved in
the vile insinuation of Schindler, for a reason which will be made
apparent presently. The house at Gneixendorf was not fitted for tenancy
in winter; the weather was growing boisterous; Madame van Beethoven had
left the men to their own devices and gone to her town-house. This,
apparently, was the state of affairs when Johann handed a letter to his
brother which could have no other result than to bring about a decision
to go back to Vienna at the earliest possible moment, and to carry
with him a heart full of bitterness which could only be intensified by
the sufferings which attended upon his journey. The letter bears no
date, but an allusion to the fact that von Breuning had allowed Karl
a fortnight for recuperation and he had already been two months at
Gneixendorf, is proof that it was written near the end of November.
That the brothers discussed it and cognate matters while it was in
their hands is evidenced by the fact that it contains on its back the
words in Johann’s writing: “Let us leave this until the day you go.--An
old woman.--She has her share and will get no more.” The letter was as
follows:

My dear Brother:

I can not possibly remain silent concerning the future fate of
Karl. He is abandoning all activity and, grown accustomed to this
life, the longer he lives as at present, the more difficult will
it be to bring him back to work. At his departure Breuning gave
him a fortnight to recuperate in, and now it is two months. You see
from Breuning’s letter that it is his decided wish that Karl _shall
hasten_ to his calling; the longer he is here the more unfortunate
will it be for him, for the harder will it be for him to get to
work, and it may be that we shall suffer harm.

It is an infinite pity that this talented young man so wastes his
time; and on whom if not on us two will the blame be laid? for he
is still too young to direct his own course; for which reason it
is your duty, if you do not wish to be reproached by yourself and
others hereafter, to put him to work at his profession as soon as
possible. Once he is occupied it will be easy to do much for him
now and in the future; but under present conditions nothing can be
done.

I see from his actions that he would like to remain with us, but if
he did so it would be all over with his future, and therefore this
is impossible. The longer we hesitate the more difficult will it be
for him to go away; I therefore adjure you--make up your mind, do
not permit yourself to be dissuaded by Karl. I think it ought to
be by _next Monday_, for in no event can you wait for me, inasmuch
as I cannot go away from here without money, and it will be a long
time before I collect enough to enable me to go to Vienna.

How Beethoven received this letter must be left to the imagination.
Its wisdom temporarily disarmed Schindler, who forgot all of his
frequently wicked charges against Johann long enough to admit that
the document proved that he was not utterly without good qualities of
character. He adds that he was in a position to assert that Ludwig took
his brother’s suggestion with bad grace and that before his departure
from Gneixendorf there was an exceedingly acrimonious quarrel between
the brothers, growing out of Ludwig’s demand that Johann make a will
in favor of Karl, thus cutting off his wife. It is to this that the
penciled endorsement on the letter refers. This subject, Schindler
says, was the real cause of the estrangement between the brothers
during the last five or six years of Ludwig’s life. The blame, he adds,
rested with Ludwig, who, “constantly at odds with himself and all the
world, loved and hated without reason.” Weeks afterward, while he lay
dying in Vienna, Beethoven’s thoughts were still occupied with the
purpose of persuading his brother to make a will in Karl’s favor.[162]
A moment’s reflection on a single fact will serve to give the quietus
to Schindler’s insinuation as to improper relationship between the
young man of 19 and his aunt of 40; at the time that Karl is pleading
to stay in the country, Johann is urging his brother to send him about
his duty, and Beethoven is halting in irresolution, the woman is in
Vienna.

[Sidenote: THE FATEFUL JOURNEY FROM GNEIXENDORF]

It must be assumed that the Monday referred to in Johann’s letter
was Monday, November 27; but several days must have elapsed between
this date and the time when Beethoven and Karl set out on the fateful
journey to Vienna. A determination seems to have been reached when
the Book shows Johann as saying: “If you are to start on Monday the
carriage must be ordered on Sunday.” There is no recorded conversation
touching the use of Johann’s carriage, which, so far as anything is
known to the contrary, may have still been in Vienna, whither, it is
safe to assume, it had carried Johann’s wife, and whither it was to
carry its owner as soon as he could make a satisfactory adjustment
of his financial affairs. That means of conveyance were discussed is
proved by Johann’s remark and also by a report made by Karl to the
composer: “There is no postchaise to Vienna, but only to St. Pölten....
From here there is no opportunity except by a stagecoach.”

Exactly when and how the travellers set out it is not possible to
determine. Schindler says that owing to Johann’s refusal to let his
brother use his closed carriage, Beethoven was obliged to make the
journey in an “open calash.” This is his statement in the first edition
of the biography, but in the third, for an unexplained reason, the
“open calash” is the vehicle used from Gneixendorf to Krems only, a
distance which was easily traversed on foot inside of an hour. If Dr.
Wawruch, Beethoven’s attending physician during the illness which
ended in his death, is correct, Beethoven told him that he had made
the journey “in the devil’s most wretched vehicle, a milk-wagon.”
Later Dr. Wawruch calls the vehicle in which he arrived in Vienna
a “Leiterwagen,” from which we might gather, which is utterly
preposterous, that it was a rack vehicle. Beethoven arrived in Vienna
on Saturday, December 2, and as there is a reference to only one night
spent in transit (as there had been one on the journey from Vienna
to Gneixendorf), it is likely that he left Gneixendorf early in the
morning of Friday, December 1. “That December,” says Dr. Wawruch, “was
raw, wet and frosty; Beethoven’s clothing anything but adapted to the
unfriendly season of the year, and yet he was urged on by an internal
unrest and a gloomy foreboding of misfortune. He was compelled to
spend a night in a village tavern where, besides wretched shelter, he
found an unwarmed room without winter shutters. Towards midnight he
experienced his first fever-chill, a dry hacking cough accompanied by
violent thirst and cutting pains in the sides. When seized with the
fever he drank a few measures of ice-cold water and longed, helplessly,
for the first rays of the morning light. Weak and ill, he permitted
himself to be lifted into the _Leiterwagen_ and arrived, at last,
weak, exhausted and without strength, in Vienna.” Wawruch derived his
information from Beethoven, possibly in part also from Karl, the only
witness from whom a succinct and absolutely correct account was to have
been expected; unhappily the tale, which Karl must have been called
upon to tell many times, was never reported. The untrustworthiness
of Schindler’s statements about the incidents of which he had no
personal knowledge is emphasized by obvious efforts made to falsify and
emasculate the record in the Conversation Books, concerning which it
will soon become necessary to speak.

[Sidenote: ONE OF SCHINDLER’S SLANDERS REFUTED]

It was Saturday, December 2nd, 1826, then, that Beethoven arrived
in Vienna from Gneixendorf and went to his lodgings in the
Schwarzspanierhaus. It does not appear that he considered himself
seriously ill, for in a letter to Holz which must have been written
two, or more likely three, days later, he says merely that he is
“unpässlich,” that is, indisposed. The letter was the second of its
kind, the first having been mislaid. In this letter he asked Holz to
come to him. It was written from dictation, but before appending his
signature Beethoven wrote, “Finally, I add to this ‘We all err, only
each in a different way’,” setting the quoted words to music for a
canon. This canon, of which an autograph copy on a separate sheet
of paper is preserved in the Royal Library at Berlin, points to a
possibility that some misunderstanding had arisen between Beethoven
and Holz just before the former started for Gneixendorf. Inasmuch as
Holz is at Beethoven’s side at least ten days before Schindler appears
there, and gives his services to the sick man until the end, though
not to the extent that Schindler does after his coming, the latter’s
efforts to create the impression that Beethoven had sent Holz away
from him is disingenuous, to say the least. Holz’s first act convicts
Schindler of an error which can scarcely be set down as an innocent
one. The story involves one of the slanders against Karl which has
been repeated from Schindler’s day to this, although its refutation
needed only a glance into the Conversation Books of December, 1826.
Schindler says that he did not learn of Beethoven’s condition until
“several days” after his return to Vienna. That he then hurried to
him and learned that neither Dr. Braunhofer nor Dr. Staudenheimer,
though sent for by Beethoven, had answered the summons and that Dr.
Wawruch’s coming was due to something only a little better than an
accident. Karl, though charged with the duty of summoning a physician,
had forgotten, or neglected, to so do, for several days. His commission
occurred to him while playing at billiards, and he incidentally asked
a _marqueur_ (scorer) in the billiard-room to send a physician to his
uncle. The _marqueur_, not being well, could not do it at the time, but
mentioned the matter some time later to Dr. Wawruch at the hospital
to which he had been taken. This story of unexampled heartlessness,
to which Dr. Gerhard von Breuning also gave currency, Schindler said
he had heard from Dr. Wawruch; but it is branded as a shameless
fabrication by Dr. Wawruch’s published statement and the evidence of
the Conversation Book. Dr. Wawruch wrote a history of Beethoven’s
illness entitled “Ärztlicher Rückblick auf Ludwig van Beethoven’s
letzte Lebensepoche” under date of May 20, 1827, which was published
by Aloys Fuchs in the “Wiener Zeitschrift” of April 30, 1842. In
this report Dr. Wawruch says, “I was not called in until the third
day.” This third day would be December 5th, and the date has twofold
confirmation in the Conversation Book. A fortnight after Beethoven’s
return to Vienna there is an entry in Karl’s handwriting of the
physician’s visits beginning with December 5th and ending with December
14, which shows that within this period Dr. Wawruch made daily visits
and on one day came twice. Schindler’s name does not appear until some
time after this entry, and it is recorded in a manner which indicates
plainly that it was his first meeting with the sick man. As the book
was folded and renumbered by Schindler the page on which this entry
appears is made to look as if it preceded others which are filled with
evidences of Holz’s helpfulness, but the records of the first call of
the physician are plain and undisputable. It was Holz who sent for him
and he did so on December 5, the day on which the first visit is noted.
Evidently Holz had hastened to Beethoven on receiving the letter asking
him to come which Karl seems to have delivered to him on the 4th or
5th. What passed at the first meeting does not appear, but this remark
in the handwriting of Holz does:

I have had Professor Wawruch called for you; Vivenot is himself
sick. I do not know Wawruch personally, but he is known here as one
of the most skillful physicians.--He is Bogner’s doctor.--He is
professor in the hospital.--He will come after dinner.

Vivenot was a physician. In all probability Beethoven had exhausted the
list of physicians of his acquaintance (Smetana, a surgeon, may not
have been considered and Malfatti could not be at the time for reasons
which Beethoven knew and was made painfully to feel later), before
Holz succeeded in securing the attendance of Wawruch.[163] According
to the accepted story, Braunhofer, who had been the last physician to
treat Beethoven before the misfortunes of the summer, had declined
the call because of the too great distance between his house and
Beethoven’s, and Staudenheimer, whom Braunhofer had displaced, promised
to come but did not. The latter, probably both, took part later in the
consultations. Wawruch was an amateur violoncello player and an ardent
admirer of Beethoven’s music. When he comes to his august patient,
though he permits Karl to write the questions, he takes the pencil
himself to tell who he is: “One who greatly reveres your name will do
everything possible to give you speedy relief--Prof. Wawruch.” In his
history of the case Wawruch writes:

I found Beethoven afflicted with serious symptoms of inflammation
of the lungs. His face glowed, he spat blood, his respiration
threatened suffocation and a painful stitch in the side made lying
on the back a torment. A severe counter-treatment for inflammation
soon brought the desired relief; his constitution triumphed and by
a lucky crisis he was freed from apparent mortal danger, so that on
the fifth day he was able, in a sitting posture, to tell me, amid
profound emotion, of the discomforts which he had suffered. On the
seventh day he felt considerably better, so that he was able to get
out of bed, walk about, read and write.

Dr. Gerhard von Breuning, who was concerned in proving that Dr.
Wawruch was a bungling practitioner, protests that Beethoven was not
suffering from inflammation of the lungs but from inflammation of the
peritoneum, which alone, he says, could have brought on the dropsy of
the belly from which it has been thought until recently Beethoven died.
He based his opinion on the fact, which, though only a boy of 13, he may
have observed in the sick-room, that the patient did not cough, had no
difficulty in breathing, and that afterwards his lungs were found to be
sound. Wawruch, however, an experienced physician, is speaking of what
he observed on his first visit and is not likely to have erred in so
obvious a matter as incipient lobar pneumonia, the general history of
which as now understood agrees with the recorded account of Beethoven’s
case, even in such details as the critical period reached on the fifth
day. The subsequent strength of the lungs is not inconsistent with
the theory that in the first week Beethoven weathered an attack of
pneumonia.

[Sidenote: BEETHOVEN’S HEALTH IN THE COUNTRY]

There are few references to the state of Beethoven’s health during the
sojourn at Gneixendorf, but that he was ill when he arrived there is
indicated by an early remark by Johann attributing an improvement in
the condition of his eyes to the good air “without rosewater.” Johann
wrote later that, when with him, Beethoven ate little. When the food
was not prepared to his taste he ate soft-boiled eggs for dinner “and
drank all the more wine.” He had frequent attacks of diarrhœa. His
abdomen also became distended so that he wore a bandage for comfort.
Wawruch had no knowledge of his patient’s previous medical history and
was compelled to discover for himself what his colleagues, to whom the
sick man’s call was first extended, would have known from their earlier
experiences with him. Schindler attacks Wawruch on the ground that he
had said that Beethoven was addicted to the use of spirituous liquors.
The Conversation Books and other testimony plentifully indicate that
the great composer was fond of wine and that his physicians had
difficulty in enforcing abstinence upon him; but the only one who, by
indirection, accused Beethoven of drinking to excess, was Schindler,
whose statements on that point are not free from the suspicion that
they were made only for the purpose of hitting Holz over Wawruch’s
shoulders.[164]

Wawruch’s report continues:

But on the eighth day I was alarmed not a little. At the morning
visit I found him greatly disturbed and jaundiced all over
his body. A frightful choleraic attack (_Brechdurchfall_) had
threatened in the preceding night. A violent rage, a great grief
because of ingratitude and undeserved humiliation, was the cause
of the mighty explosion. Trembling and shivering he bent double
because of the pains which raged in his liver and intestines, and
his feet, thitherto moderately inflated, were tremendously swollen.
From this time on dropsy developed, the segregation of urine became
less, the liver showed plain indication of hard nodules, there
was an increase of jaundice. Gentle entreaties from his friends
quieted the threatening mental tempest, and the forgiving man
forgot all the humiliation which had been put upon him. But the
disease moved onward with gigantic strides. Already in the third
week there came incidents of nocturnal suffocation; the enormous
volume of collected water demanded speedy relief and I found myself
compelled to advise tapping in order to guard against the danger of
bursting.

After Dr. Wawruch had reached this decision, Dr. Staudenheimer was
called in consultation and he confirmed the attending physician’s
opinion as to the necessity of an operation. Beethoven was told.
“After a few moments of serious thought he gave his consent.” The
servant Thekla, who had, apparently, come from Gneixendorf (as her
name appears in the Conversation Book used there), in the midst of
the preparations for the operation had been found to be dishonest and
dismissed. The composer’s brother had arrived in Vienna about December
10 and thereafter is found constant in his attendance, a fact which it
becomes necessary to mention because of the obvious effort of Schindler
to create the impression that the burden of the care of Beethoven had
been assumed by him, von Breuning and the latter’s son Gerhard. Wawruch
had retained Dr. Seibert, principal surgeon (_Primärwundarzt_) at the
hospital, to perform the operation. The date was December 20 (not 18,
as Schindler says). Those present were Johann, Karl and Schindler.
Beethoven’s sense of humor did not desert him. When, the incision
having been made, Dr. Seibert introduced the tube and the water spurted
out, Beethoven said: “Professor, you remind me of Moses striking the
rock with his staff.”[165] Wawruch writes in the Conversation Book:

Thank God, it is happily over!--Do you already feel relief?--If
you feel ill you must tell me.--Did the incision give you any
pain?--From to-day the sun will continue to ascend higher.--God
save you! [_This in English._] Lukewarm almond milk.--Do you
not now feel pain?--Continue to lie quietly on your side.--Five
measures and a half.--I hope that you will sleep more quietly
to-night.... You bore yourself like a knight.

[Sidenote: MULTIPLICATION AND HANDEL’S SCORES]

In the early days after Beethoven’s return to Vienna there is a
continuation of the correspondence with Schott and Sons concerning the
publication of the works which they had purchased, and before the end
of December, probably in the third week, occurs the incident of the
disappointing gift from the King of Prussia which makes its appearance
in the record with something like a shout of “Good news!” from
Schindler. Karl is busily occupied in preparations for his military
career and upon him, until the arrival of Holz, appears to devolve
the labor of writing and of carrying messages. The Conversation Book
used by him on the 4th of December and the two following days bears a
pathetic proof of Beethoven’s helplessness in the matter of figures. A
page or so is filled with examples in simple multiplication--tables,
without answers, of threes, fours, sevens, etc.--and the remark, “Then
backwards.” Later Karl writes an explanation: “Multiplication is a
simplified form of addition, wherefore examples are performed in the
same manner. Each product is set under its proper place. If it consists
of two digits, the left one is added to the product of the next. Here a
small illustration: 2348 multiplied by 2.” It was thus that the great
genius approaching his 56th birthday was employing his time while
waiting in vain for the physicians who would not or could not answer
his summons!

One joyful event brightened the solitary gloom of the sick-chamber in
the middle of December. From Stumpff, of London, Beethoven received the
40 volumes of Dr. Arnold’s edition of the works of Handel which the
donor had resolved to send Beethoven on his visit in 1824. Gerhard von
Breuning pictures the joy of Beethoven at the reception of the gift,
which he described as royal compared with that of the King of Prussia.
One day the boy was asked to hand the big books from the pianoforte
where they rested to the bed. “I have long wanted them,” said the
composer to his faithful little friend, “for Handel is the greatest,
the ablest composer that ever lived. I can still learn from him.” He
leaned the books against the wall, turned over the pages, and ever and
anon paused to break out into new expressions of praise. Von Breuning
places these incidents in the middle of February, 1827, but his memory
was plainly at fault. Schindler says the books arrived in December, and
he is right, for Stumpff preserved the receipt for them, a letter and
Reichardt’s “Taschenbuch für Reisende,” which is dated “December 14,
1826.” The gift was sent through the son of Stumpff’s friend Streicher.

Stephan von Breuning had called on Beethoven shortly after his arrival
and the work of making a soldier of Karl was begun at once. It was
expected that the preparations would occupy only a few days, but they
dragged themselves through the month of December, owing partly, no
doubt, to an illness which befell the Councillor. There were formal
calls to be made upon the Lieut. Field Marshal and other officers,
a physical examination to be undergone (it was most perfunctory),
uniforms to be provided, the oath of service to be taken, and his
monthly allowance to be fixed. All this was disposed of by the date
of the first tapping, and it was expected that he would set out to
join his regiment at Iglau before the Christmas holidays. There is
no evidence of a change in the attitude towards each other of uncle
and nephew. Some of Karl’s entries in the Conversation Books betray a
testiness which is in marked contrast to Beethoven’s obvious solicitude
for the young man’s position and comfort in his regiment; but the
entries also indicate that illness had not sweetened the disposition of
the sufferer. His outbursts of rage are the subject of warnings from
physicians and friends. We have Schindler’s word for it that Beethoven
became cheerful after the graceless youth’s departure for Iglau on
January 2nd, and the testimony of the Conversation Book that the old
year closed upon a quarrel between the two. Karl writes this greeting
on New Year’s day: “I wish you a happy new year, and it grieves me that
I should have been compelled already in the first night to give cause
for displeasure. It might easily have been avoided, however, if you had
but given the order to have my meal taken to my room.”

It is very possible that Beethoven’s spirits grew lighter after the
departure of his nephew. The service which Karl gave his uncle seems
frequently to have been given grudgingly and no doubt looked more
ungracious than it may really have been, when accompanied by protests
that he would not be found failing in duty and petulant requests that
he be spared upbraidings and torments. To satisfy the singular mixture
of affectionate solicitude and suspicion which filled Beethoven’s heart
and mind would perhaps have taxed the philosophy of a wiser as well
as gentler being than this young man, who, as Johann’s wife told the
composer in Gneixendorf, had inherited the testy family temper. When
open quarrels were no longer possible, it is likely that a greater
contentment than had lodged there for a long time filled Beethoven’s
soul. There is no record of the parting, and it is safe to assume
that it passed off without emotional demonstration of any kind. But
Beethoven’s thoughts went swiftly towards his self-assumed duty of
providing for the young man’s future. The very next day he wrote the
following letter to Dr. Bach:

[Sidenote: PROVIDING FOR THE NEPHEW’S FUTURE]

Vienna, Wednesday January 3, 1827.

Before my death I declare my beloved nephew my sole and universal
heir of all the property which I possess in which is included
chiefly seven bank shares and whatever money may be on hand. If
the laws prescribe a modification in this I beg of you as far as
possible to turn it to his _advantage_. I appoint you his _curator_
and beg his guardian, Court Councillor von Breuning, to take the
place of a father to him. God preserve you. A thousand thanks for
the love and friendship which you have shown me.

(L. S.) Ludwig van Beethoven.

From Gerhard von Breuning’s account of the last days of Beethoven it
would seem that this letter, though written on January 3rd, and then
addressed to his legal adviser, was not signed until shortly before
his death, and that at intervals in the interim it was the subject
of consultations between the composer, Bach, Breuning, Schindler and
Johann. Certain it is that before dispatching the letter to Bach,
Beethoven submitted it to von Breuning for an opinion. Gerhard carried
it to his father and brought back an answer which may have postponed
its formal execution and delivery till two days before Beethoven died.
Stephan von Breuning was not willing that Karl should enter upon
unrestricted possession of the property immediately upon the death of
his uncle. In his letter he pointed out that till now Karl had shown
himself frivolous and that there was no knowing what turn his character
might take as a result of the new life upon which he had entered. He
therefore advised that for the young man’s own good and future safety
he be prohibited from disposing of the capital of his inheritance,
either during his lifetime or for a term of years after he had reached
his majority, which under the Austrian law then prevailing was the age
of 24 years. He argued that the income from the legacy would suffice
for his maintenance for the time being and that to restrict him in
the disposition of the capital would ensure him against the possible
results of frivolous conduct before he should ripen into a man of solid
parts. He recommended that Beethoven talk the matter over with Bach
and wanted then to consult with both of them, as he feared that even a
temporary restriction would not suffice to restrain Karl from making
debts which in time would devour the inheritance when he should enter
upon it. How Beethoven received this advice we shall learn later.

There is little that need be added to the story of the nephew. He was
with his regiment at Iglau. Through Schindler, Beethoven wrote him
a letter. It is lost, but apparently it contained an expression of
dissatisfaction with Dr. Wawruch, for in the reply, which has been
preserved, Karl says: “Concerning yourself I am rejoiced to know that
you are in good hands. I, too, had felt some distrust of the treatment
of your former (or, perhaps, present?) physician; I hope improvement
will now follow.” He reports about his situation in the regiment, asks
for money and the flute part of the Pianoforte Concerto in B-flat
(Op. 19), which one of the officers of the regiment wished to play,
and adds in a postscript: “Do not think that the little privations
to which I am now subjected have made me dissatisfied with my lot.
On the contrary, rest assured that I am living in contentment, and
regret only that I am separated so far from you. In time, however,
this will be different.” But communications from the young man are
not many, and Schindler’s rebukes and complaints in the Conversation
Books about his undutifulness are probably only a reflex of Beethoven’s
moods and utterances. One cause of dissatisfaction was the fact that
a letter to Smart had been sent to him for translation and was not
promptly returned. But he acknowledges the receipt of money towards
the end of February, and on March 4th he writes another letter, which
has been preserved. He sends his thanks for a pair of boots, says the
translation of the letter to Smart must have been received, and adds:

To-day a cadet returned to his batallion who had been in Vienna on
a furlough; and he reports having heard that you had been saved by
an ice and are feeling well. I hope the report is true, no matter
what the means may have been... Write me very soon about the state
of your health ... I kiss you. Your loving son Charles.

Here Karl van Beethoven practically disappears from this history. He
never saw his uncle in life again, nor even in death, for he was not
present at the funeral--as indeed in those days of tardy communication
and slow conveyance he could not be.

[Sidenote: SCENES IN THE COMPOSER’S SICK-ROOM]

Notwithstanding that they do not make a complete record, since the
slate was also, and indeed largely, used by Beethoven’s visitors,
and despite the fact that they have not been left intact, but bear
evidences of mutilation and falsification, the Conversation Books
furnish a more vivid and also a more pathetic picture of Beethoven’s
sick-room than the writings of Schindler and Gerhard von Breuning.
Busy about the couch of the patient we see his brother Johann and his
nephew Karl, besides Schindler, Holz and Stephan von Breuning. The
visits of the last are interrupted by illness and his official labors,
but his son, the lad Gerhard, frequently lends a gracious touch to the
scene by his familiar mode of address, his gossip about his father’s
domestic affairs and his suggestions of intellectual pabulum for his
august friend. He is a daily message-bearer between the two households.
Even at a sacrifice of space it is necessary to recount a few incidents
of small intrinsic interest in order that some errors in history may
be rectified. Notwithstanding Schindler’s obvious efforts to have
the contrary appear, Holz continues to be faithful in attendance,
though his visits are not so numerous as they were during the weeks
of Beethoven’s great trial in the summer. The reason was obvious and
certainly not to his discredit, though Schindler attempted to belittle
it. Holz took unto himself a wife about the time that Beethoven
returned to Vienna. Thitherto he had been able to devote a large
portion of the time not given to official duties to his friend. Now,
this was no longer possible; nor was it necessary after Dr. Wawruch
had assumed care of the case. Beethoven’s brother also returned to
Vienna and Schindler found his way back to the composer’s side within
a fortnight. It is Holz, however, who looks after the correction and
publication of the last compositions, and collects his annuity; and if
it were necessary, his apologists might find evidence of Beethoven’s
confidence in his friendship and integrity in the fact that there is
no indication that he ever questioned his honesty in money matters,
while there is proof in Schindler’s own handwriting that Beethoven
thought _him_ capable of theft. It is pitiful that while Schindler is
sacrificing himself in almost menial labors, Beethoven forces him to a
pained protestation that he had returned the balance of a sum placed
in his hands wherewith to make purchases. Schindler himself records
the fact of Beethoven’s suspicion with sorrow. A livelier sense of
gratitude took possession of the sufferer later and found expression in
gifts of autograph scores (of the Ninth Symphony, for instance, now in
the Royal Library[166] at Berlin), and a promise, which he was unable
to fulfill, to take part in a concert for Schindler’s benefit.

Whether Schindler was always as scrupulously honest in his attitude
towards the public as he was in his dealings with Beethoven may be
doubted. There are mutilations, interlineations and erasures in the
Conversation Books which it is difficult to believe were not made for
the purpose of bolstering up mistaken statements in his biography,
which had already been published when the documents passed out of his
hands into the possession of the Royal Library. Here is a case in
point: Schuppanzigh has called and reported that one of Beethoven’s
quartets had been enthusiastically received by the public at a
performance on the preceding Sunday (December 10, 1826). To what seems
to have been an oral comment, Beethovens adds the words and music of
the motto from the Quartet in F: “Muss es sein? Es muss sein.” This
moves Schuppanzigh to say: “But does he”--(Beethoven, of course, whom
Schuppanzigh addresses in the third person as usual)--“does he know
that the dirty fellow has become my enemy on that account?” Here we
have an unmistakable allusion to the anecdote about Dembscher and the
origin of the Canon on the theme of the finale of the F major Quartet.
A few pages later Schindler is the writer and has just brought the
news of the arrival of the ring presented to Beethoven by the King of
Prussia. He had been asked to carry the ring to Beethoven, but had
been unwilling to accept it unless he could give Beethoven’s receipt
for it in exchange. He adds the words “Es muss sein” as if in answer
to a question by Beethoven. Now appear squeezed in between the music
and the edge of the sheet the words: “The Old Woman (_Die Alte_) is
again in need of her weekly allowance.” The handwriting is plainly of
a different date and at the time of the conversation the “Old Woman”
was not in Beethoven’s employ.[167] It is not easy to acquit Schindler
of a sinister motive here nor to avoid the suspicion that it was his
hand which made an attempt to obliterate the entry on December 5, which
proves that Holz sent for Dr. Wawruch on that date and thus gives the
lie to the infamous story about Karl and the billiard _marqueur_. The
evidences of Schindler’s eagerness to encourage Beethoven’s detestation
of his brother and his suspicion of his nephew are too numerous to be
overlooked, and some of them may call for mention later.

An offer by Gerhard von Breuning to bring one of his school-books
containing pictures of classic antiquities is an evidence of the
lad’s familiarity with Beethoven’s literary tastes. It was Brother
Johann, however, who suggested the novels of Sir Walter Scott for his
entertainment, and the impression conveyed by the story that after
beginning “Kenilworth” Beethoven threw the volume down with the angry
remark: “To the devil with the scribbling! The fellow writes only for
money,” that the composer would have no more of the novelist, is rudely
disturbed by evidence that Beethoven read all of Scott’s works which
were to be found in translation in the circulating library. Beethoven
later himself calls for Ovid’s “Metamorphoses”; and his interest in
international politics is so keen that he is not content with an
abstract of Channing’s great speech of December 12, 1826, but expresses
a desire to read a full report.

[Sidenote: DISSATISFIED WITH HIS PHYSICIAN]

While Beethoven’s friends are discussing with Dr. Wawruch the necessity
of a second tapping, and Karl is packing his boxes for Iglau, the year
1826 ends. The surgeon Seibert seems to have advised a postponement of
the operation. In a conversation on January 6, 1827, Schindler says
to Beethoven: “Then Hr. Seibert was really right in still postponing
the second operation, for it will probably make a third unnecessary.”
There are now signs of Beethoven’s dissatisfaction with the attending
physician. Gerhard von Breuning has much to say on the point in his
little book, and Schindler joins in the criticism many years after
Beethoven’s death; but in the Conversation Books he appears more than
once as Wawruch’s defender. From von Breuning we learn that while at
a later date Malfatti’s coming was awaited with eagerness and hailed
with unfeigned gladness, Wawruch’s visits were ungraciously received,
Beethoven sometimes turning his face to the wall and exclaiming “Oh!
the ass!” when he heard his name announced. But in the first week of
January, Schindler is still concerned in keeping up the patient’s faith
in the skill of his physician. In a Conversation Book he writes shortly
after the remark about the surgeon:

He understands his profession, that is notorious, and he is right
in following a safe course.--I have a great deal of confidence in
him, but I can not speak from experience.--However, he is known as
an able man and is esteemed by his students. But as we are here
concerned with a _carum caput_ my advice from the beginning has
been always to take into consultation a physician who is familiar
with your constitution from _medical treatment_; such an one
generally adopts very different measures.

Evidently, Beethoven renews his expression of distrust. Schindler
continues:

Yet it is better and more advisable not to lose confidence in the
physician, for after all he has done a great deal.--It is a very
well-known fact that dropsy is very slow of cure.--Shall I come
when the doctor is here?

A few days later (January 8, says Schindler, who was present) the
second operation took place. There were no complications, the tapping
was accomplished without difficulty and Dr. Seibert reported that the
water was clearer and the outflow greater than the first time. Ten
measures were drawn off. On January 11 there was a consultation of
physicians to which, besides either Dr. Braunhofer or Staudenheimer,
Dr. Malfatti had been called. It had become an ardent wish of
Beethoven’s that Malfatti undertake his case, but Malfatti had refused,
pleading professional ethics, but no doubt actuated by reasons of a
more personal character. Many years before, probably as early as 1813,
he had been not only Beethoven’s physician but also his friend; indeed,
he was an uncle of the Therese Malfatti to whom the composer once made
an offer of marriage. He made, what it is easy to imagine to have been,
the experience of all the medical men who undertook the care of the
great man. Beethoven was ever a disobedient and impatient patient.
He became dissatisfied with Dr. Malfatti’s treatment and commented
upon it and him in such a manner as to cause a serious and lasting
estrangement. Ten years at least had elapsed between this incident
and the time when Beethoven’s longing went out towards his one-time
professional friend. Schindler’s story of the disappointments which
he suffered when first he tried to persuade Dr. Malfatti to take the
case in hand was printed in the “Frankfurter Konversationsblatt” of
July 14, 1842. It was a long time afterward, and we can not withhold
a suspicion that it is rather highly colored, but since the coming of
Malfatti was a matter of large moment to Beethoven and the treatment
which he recommended (strictly speaking, he can not be said to have
prescribed it, for Dr. Wawruch remained in charge of the case to the
end) has a large bearing upon Beethoven’s physical condition and its
causes, it may be told here. Schindler writes, in his communication to
the Frankfort newspaper:

Never shall I forget the harsh words of that man which he
commissioned me to bear to the friend and teacher who lay mortally
ill, when after the second operation (January 8) I repeatedly
carried to him the urgent requests of Beethoven that he come to his
help or he should die. Dr. Wawruch did not know his constitution,
was ruining him with too much medicine. He had already been
compelled to empty 75 bottles, without counting various powders,
he had no confidence in this physician, etc. To all of these
representations Malfatti answered me coldly and drily: “Say to
Beethoven that he, as a master of harmony, must know that I must
also live in harmony with my colleagues.” Beethoven wept bitter
tears when I brought him this reply, which, hard as it was, I had
to do, so that he might no longer look for help to that quarter....
Though Malfatti finally took pity on poor Beethoven and abolished
Wawruch’s medicine bottles at once and prescribed an entirely
different course of treatment, despite the pleadings of the patient
he refused to remain his _ordinarius_ and visit him often. On the
contrary, he came only at long intervals and contented himself with
occasional reports from me as to the sick man’s condition. He was
not willing even to send one of his assistants to Beethoven and
consequently Dr. Wawruch remained his daily visitor in spite of
Beethoven’s protests.

[Sidenote: RECONCILIATION WITH DR. MALFATTI]

On January 19, after a second visit to Dr. Malfatti, Schindler wrote to
Beethoven saying that the Doctor would come to him and begging him to
seek a reconciliation, inasmuch as Malfatti still cherished resentment
because of the treatment which he had received a decade before at
Beethoven’s hands. Malfatti came, a reconciliation was effected,
and under the inspiration of the changed treatment which Malfatti
introduced Beethoven’s spirits rose buoyantly, his physical condition
responded and the despair which had begun to fill the sufferer gave
way to a confident hope of recovery. The treatment was simple, but the
improvement which it brought about was not lasting. Malfatti put away
the drugs and decoctions and prescribed frozen punch, and rubbing the
patient’s abdomen with ice-cold water. Dr. Wawruch in his history of
the case confirms Schindler’s statement of the beneficial results which
were at first attained. He says:

Then Dr. Malfatti, who thenceforth supported me with his advice,
and who, as a friend of Beethoven of long years’ standing
understood his predominant inclination for spirituous liquors,
hit upon the notion of administering frozen punch. I must confess
that the treatment produced excellent effects for a few days
at least. Beethoven felt himself so refreshed by the ice with
its alcoholic contents that already in the first night he slept
quietly throughout the night and began to perspire profusely. He
grew cheerful and was full of witty conceits and even dreamed of
being able to complete the oratorio “Saul and David”[168] which
he had begun. But this joy, as was to have been foreseen, did not
last long. He began to abuse the prescription and applied himself
right bravely to the frozen punch. The spirits soon caused a
violent pressure of the blood upon the brain, he grew soporous,
breathed stertorously like an intoxicated person, began to wander
in his speech, and a few times inflammatory pains in the throat
were paired with hoarseness and even aphony. He became more
unruly and when, because of the cooling of the bowels, colic and
diarrhœa resulted, it was high time to deprive him of this precious
refreshment.

Wawruch’s remark here about Beethoven’s predilection for spirituous
liquors formed the basis for Schindler’s charge, which has already
been discussed, that the physician had slandered Beethoven and had
tried to create the impression that he had contracted dropsy by
inordinate use of alcoholic drinks. The account of the beneficial
effect of Malfatti’s coming, no less than the treatment which he
prescribed, is reasonable enough. Beethoven no doubt, in the warm
glow of a recovered friendship, gave the physician a full measure of
confidence and hailed in him much more than the ordinary professional
leech. It is also safe to assume that Malfatti knew from the beginning
that a cure was impossible and strove at once for temporary relief,
which in Beethoven’s case was the surest of means for cheering him
up and reanimating hope within him. By administering frozen punch
he stimulated the jaded organs more successfully than Wawruch had
succeeded in doing; at the same time he warned against excess in its
use and forbade the patient taking it in a liquid form. But this was
only at the beginning; when he saw the inevitable end approaching he
waived all injunctions as to quantity. Schindler says:

The quantity of frozen punch permitted in the first weeks was not
more than one glass a day. Not until after the fourth operation
(February 27th), when it was seen that the case was hopeless,
were all restrictions removed. The noble patient, feeling the
marked effects of a doubled and even trebled allowance meanwhile,
thought himself already half saved and wanted to work on his
tenth symphony, which he was allowed to do to a small extent.
From these days, so extraordinary in the sight of the friends who
surrounded him, the last lines are dated which he wrote to me on
March 17--nine days before his death--the very last page which the
immortal master wrote with his own hands:

“Miracles! Miracles! Miracles! The highly learned gentlemen are
both defeated! Only through Malfatti’s science shall I be saved. It
is necessary that you come to me for a moment this forenoon.”

The reiteration of the word “miracles” is indicated by the usual
musical sign of repetition 𝄎. There is no date in Beethoven’s
handwriting, but Schindler has endorsed it: “Beethoven’s last lines
to Schindler on March 17, 1827.” The endorsement is of a later date
and marks another obvious error of memory. It is not possible that
Beethoven wrote the letter after he had himself abandoned all hope
of recovery, as he had before the date affixed by Schindler. Most
obviously the pathetic document is an outburst of jubilation on feeling
the exhilaration consequent on Malfatti’s prescription, as mentioned
in Dr. Wawruch’s report. Schindler says that the “learned gentlemen”
referred to were Wawruch and Seibert. Wawruch says that Beethoven
abandoned hope after the fourth tapping; Johann van Beethoven records
that the physicians declared him lost on March 16. Schindler in his
biography describes a letter written in February as the last letter
actually written by the composer.

[Sidenote: TREATMENT OF THE PATIENT]

Gerhard von Breuning, prejudiced as he was against Dr. Wawruch, was yet
far from unqualified in his praise of Malfatti. He says:

But the usually brilliant physician seems to have been little
inspired in the presence of Beethoven. The frozen punch which he
prescribed to restore the tone of the digestive organs, excessively
weakened by Wawruch’s overload of medicaments, had, indeed, the
desired restorative effect; but it was too transient. On the
other hand a sort of sweat-bath prescribed a few days after the
second[169] operation was so obviously injurious to the patient,
filled with longing and hope, that it had to be abandoned at once.
Jugs filled with hot water were arranged in a bath-tub and covered
thickly with birch leaves on which the patient was seated, all of
his body but the head being covered with a sheet. Malfatti hoped
for a beneficient action upon the skin and to put the organs into
a productive perspiration. But the very opposite effect resulted.
The body of the patient, which had been emptied of its water by the
scarcely completed tapping, attracted the moisture developed by the
bath like a block of salt; it swelled visibly in the apparatus and
in a few days compelled the introduction anew of the tube into the
still unhealed puncture.

The story of this sweat-bath needs to be told, if for no other reason
than because it is the basis of another of the romances still current,
which were retailed for the single purpose of presenting Beethoven as
a sufferer from the niggardliness of Johann. On January 25 (the date
is fixed by a remark of Johann’s in the Conversation Book) Schindler
brought word to Beethoven that the mother of the singer Fräulein
Schechner had sent for him that morning to tell him about two remedies
which had proved efficacious in the case of her father, who had also
been afflicted with dropsy. One of these was Juniperberry tea, the
other a vapor bath from a decoction, the ingredients of which were
a head of cabbage, two handfuls of caraway seeds and three handfuls
of hayseed (_Heublumen_). These remedies had been prescribed by the
physician of the late King of Bavaria and had worked a cure in the case
of Madame Schechner’s father when he was 70 years old. Dr. Malfatti
seems to have been told of these remedies and to have prescribed the
bath, which, it is said in the Conversation Books, he recognized at
once as a cure used by Dr. Harz, the Royal Physician mentioned. Within
a day or two Schindler notes in the book, that he had asked Johann for
some hay and the latter had replied that his hay was not good enough
for the purpose; but the next day, on seeing the hay, which had been
procured from another source, Johann had said that he had plenty of
that sort and that his was dryer. Unwilling, apparently, to admit
that Johann might have been honest in his belief that the hay from
his stable was not fit for medicinal purposes, Schindler writes for
Beethoven’s perusal: “Is it not abominable that he is unwilling even to
give hay for a single bath!” Yet this monster of inhumanity, unwilling
to sacrifice even a wisp of hay for a dying brother, was at the time in
daily attendance upon that brother and had taken upon himself a great
deal of the onerous and disagreeable labor of the sick-room!

Among Beethoven’s visitors in February, near the end of the month,
when Beethoven was at an extremity of his suffering, was the singer
Demoiselle Schechner, who almost forced her way to the bedside to
tell him of her great admiration for his music, of her successes in
“Fidelio,” and that it was through singing his “Adelaide” that she had
won her way to the operatic stage. Under date of February there also
came to the composer a cheery letter from his old playmate Wegeler,
calling to his mind some of his early flames--Jeanette Honrath and
Fräulein Westerholt--and playfully outlining a plan by which the old
friends might enjoy a reunion: he would send, he said, one of his
patients to Carlsbad and go there with him as soon as Beethoven should
arrange also to go there for his convalescence. Then, after a three
weeks’ trip through South Germany, there should be a final visit to the
home of their childhood. And, as before, Eleonore sends a postscript
emphasizing the pleasures of the reunion. Beethoven answered the letter
on February 17, and told his old friend how he had tried to send him a
letter and portrait through Stephan von Breuning on December 10, but
the plan had miscarried. Now the matter was to be entrusted to the
Schotts.

Zmeskall, faithful to the old friendship, a bound prisoner to his room
through gout, sends greetings and inquiries through Schindler. From his
sick-bed Beethoven answers him, not in the jocular spirit which marked
his voluminous notes of old, but in terms which breathe sincerity and
real friendship:

A thousand thanks for your sympathy. I do not despair. The most
painful feature is the cessation of all activity. No evil without
its good side. May heaven but grant you amelioration of your
painful existence. Perhaps health is coming to both of us and we
shall meet again in friendly intimacy.

[Sidenote: COMFORT RECEIVED FROM ENGLAND]

Though Beethoven had received the Handel scores in December, he does
not seem to have had an opportunity to enjoy Stumpff’s gift thoroughly
until he turned to them for intellectual refreshment on his bed of
pain. He had signed the receipt for them in December, but it was
not until his thoughts turned to his English friends in the hope of
pecuniary relief that he wrote a letter to Stumpff under date of
February 8.[170]

How great a joy the sending of the works of Handel of which you
made me a present--for me a royal present!--this my pen cannot
describe. An article about it was even printed by the newspaper,
which I enclose. Unfortunately I have been down with the dropsy
since the 3rd of December. You can imagine in what a situation this
places me! I live generally only from the proceeds of my brain,
to make provision of all things for myself and my Carl. Unhappily
for a month and a half I have not been able to write a note. My
salary suffices only to pay my semi-annual rent, after which there
remains only a few hundred florins. Reflect now that it cannot
yet be determined when my illness will end, I again be able to
sail through the air on Pegasus under full sail. Doctor, surgeon,
everything must be paid.

I recall right well that several years ago the Philharmonic Society
wanted to give a concert for my benefit. It would be fortunate for
me if they would come to this determination now. It might save me
from all the needs which confront me. On this account I am writing
to Mr. S. [Smart] and if you, my dear friend, can do anything
toward this end I beg of you to coöperate with Mr. S. Moscheles
will also be written to about it and if all my friends unite I
believe that something can be done for me in this matter.

Concerning the Handel works for H. Imperial Highness Archduke
Rudolph, I cannot as yet say anything with certainty. But I will
write to him in a few days and remind him of it.

While thanking you again for your glorious gift, I beg of you to
command me if I can be of service to you here in any way, I shall
do it with all my heart. I again place my condition as I have
described it close to your benevolent heart and while wishing you
all things good and beautiful, I commend myself to you.

Stumpff had already been informed of Beethoven’s illness by Streicher.
It is evident that he went at once to Smart and Moscheles, and
knowledge of Beethoven’s condition and request was communicated to the
directors of the Philharmonic Society forthwith. Beethoven, meanwhile,
had written to both Smart and Moscheles, enclosing the letter of the
former in the letter to the latter; but the quick and sympathetic
action of the Society was no doubt due primarily to the initiative of
Stumpff, for the letters could by no means have reached London when the
directors held a meeting on February 28. Mr. Dance presided, and those
present, as recorded in the Society’s minutes, were F. Cramer, Horsley,
Moralt, Dragonetti, Neate, Dizi, Beale, T. Cooke, Sir G. Smart, Welsh,
Latour, Spagnoletti, Calkin, J. B. Cramer, Cipriani Potter and Watts.
The minutes continue:

It was moved by Mr. Neate, and seconded by Mr. Latour:

“That this Society do lend the sum of One Hundred Pounds to its
own members to be sent through the hands of Mr. Moscheles to some
confidential friend of Beethoven, to be applied to his comforts and
necessities during his illness.”

Carried unanimously.

Both Stumpff and Moscheles wrote the good news to Beethoven the
next day. Moscheles’s letter appears in his translation, or rather
paraphrase, of Schindler’s biography. In it he said:

The Philharmonic Society resolved to express their good will
and lively sympathy by requesting your acceptance of 100 pounds
sterling (1,000 florins) to provide the necessary comforts and
conveniences during your illness. This money will be paid to your
order by Mr. Rau, of the house of Eskeles, either in separate sums
or all at once as you desire.

He added an expression of the Philharmonic Society’s willingness to aid
him further whenever he should inform it of his need of assistance.
Beethoven’s impatience was so great that, having found Smart’s address
among his papers, he wrote him a second letter on March 6th, being
able now to mention the fact of the fourth tapping on February 27th
and to utter the apprehension that the operation might have to be
repeated--perhaps more than once. On March 14th he was still without
the answer of his English friends and he wrote again to Moscheles
telling him of the two letters sent to Smart, urging action and
concluding with

Whither is this to lead, and what is to become of me if this
continues for a while longer? Verily, a hard lot has befallen me!
But I yield to the will of fate and only pray God so to order it in
his Divine Will that so long as I must endure this death in life I
may be protected against want. This will give me strength to endure
my lot, hard and terrible as it may be, with submission to the will
of the Most High.... Hummel is here and has already visited me a
few times.

Schindler says that the appeal to London, which had been suggested
by Beethoven, had been discussed with the composer by himself and
Breuning, who agreed in questioning the advisability of the step
which, they said, would make a bad impression if it became known. They
reminded Beethoven of his bank-shares, but he protested vigorously
against their being touched; he had set them apart as a legacy for his
nephew which must not be encroached upon. The letters to Smart and
Moscheles are mentioned several times in the Conversation Books, but
there is no record of a protest by Schindler or Breuning. Inasmuch,
however, as much of the conversation with Beethoven was at this time
carried on with the help of a slate, it is very likely that Schindler’s
statement is correct. At any rate it serves to give a quietus to the
fantastic notion of the romancers that Beethoven had forgotten that
he had the shares. Not only were they talked about by his friends,
but they were the subject of discussion in the correspondence and
congratulations between Beethoven, Bach and Breuning on the subject of
the will.

The last letters to Smart and Moscheles were scarcely dispatched before
advices were received from London. Beethoven dictated the following
acknowledgment which Schindler, though he held the pen, did not
reproduce in full in his biography:

[Sidenote: MONEY FROM THE LONDON PHILHARMONIC]

Vienna, March 18, 1827.

My dear good Moscheles:

I can not describe to you in words with what feelings I read your
letter of March 1. The generosity with which the Philharmonic
Society anticipated my petition has touched me in the innermost
depth of my soul. I beg you, therefore, my dear Moscheles, to be
the agency through which I transmit my sincerest thanks for the
particular sympathy and help, to the Philharmonic Society.

I found myself constrained to collect at once the entire sum of
1,000 florins C. M. being in the unpleasant position of raising
money which would have brought new embarrassments.

Concerning the concert which the Philharmonic Society has resolved
to give, I beg the Society not to abandon this noble purpose, and
to deduct the 1,000 florins already sent to me from the proceeds of
the concert. And if the Society is disposed graciously to send me
the balance I pledge myself to return my heartiest thanks to the
Society by binding myself to compose for it either a new symphony,
which lies already sketched in my desk, a new overture or whatever
else the Society shall wish.

May heaven very soon restore me again to health, and I will prove
to the generous Englishmen how greatly I appreciate their interest
in my sad fate. Their noble act will never be forgotten by me and I
shall follow this with especial thanks to Sir Smart and Mr. Stumpff.

Schindler relates that Beethoven on March 24, whispered to him, “write
to Smart and Stumpff,” and that he would have done so on the morrow had
Beethoven been able to sign his name. In a translation of the letter to
Moscheles printed in a pamphlet published by the Philharmonic Society
in 1871,[171] it concluded as follows:

Farewell! with the kindest remembrances and highest esteem
From your friend
Ludwig van Beethoven.

Kindest regards to your wife. I have to thank you and the
Philharmonic Society for a new friend in Mr. Rau. I enclose for the
Philharmonic Society a metronomic list of the movements of my ninth
Symphony.

Allegro ma non troppo 88 = 𝅘𝅥
Molto vivace 116 = 𝅗𝅥
Presto 116 = 𝅗𝅥
Adagio primo 60 = 𝅘𝅥
Andante moderato 63 = 𝅗𝅥
Finale presto 96 = 𝅘𝅥
Allegro ma non tanto 88 = 𝅘𝅥
Allegro assai 80 = 𝅗𝅥
Alla marcia 84 = 𝅘𝅥
Andante maestoso 72 = 𝅗𝅥
Adagio divoto 60 = 𝅗𝅥
Allegro energico 84 = 𝅗𝅥
Allegro ma non tanto 120 = 𝅗𝅥
Prestissimo 132 = 𝅗𝅥
Maestoso 60 = 𝅘𝅥

The history of the Philharmonic Society’s benefaction may properly be
completed at this point. The money, as is to be seen from Beethoven’s
acknowledgment, was collected by the composer at once. Herr Rau, of the
banking-house of Eskeles to whom it had been entrusted, called upon
Beethoven immediately on receiving advices from London. It was on March
15, and two days later he enclosed Beethoven’s receipt (dated March 16)
in a letter to Moscheles which the latter transmitted to Mr. W. Watts,
Secretary of the Philharmonic Society. Rau wrote:

I have with the greatest surprise heard from you, who reside in
London, that the universally admired Beethoven is so dangerously
ill and in want of pecuniary assistance, while we, here at Vienna,
are totally ignorant of it. I went to him immediately after having
read your letter to ascertain his state, and to announce to him
the approaching relief. This made a deep impression upon him, and
called forth true expressions of gratitude. What a satisfactory
sight would it have been for those who so generously relieved him
to witness such a touching scene! I found poor Beethoven in a sad
way, more like a skeleton than a living being. He is suffering
from dropsy, and has already been tapped four times; he is under
the care of our clever physician Malfatti, who unfortunately gives
little hope of his recovery.

How long he may remain in his present state, or if he can at all
be saved, can not yet be ascertained. The joyous sensation at the
sudden relief from London has, however, had a wonderful effect upon
him; it made one of the wounds (which since the last operation had
healed) suddenly burst open during the night, and all the water
which had gathered since a fortnight ran out freely. When I came to
see him on the following day he was in remarkably good spirits and
felt himself much relieved. I hastened to Malfatti to inform him of
this alteration and he considers the event as very consolatory. He
will contrive to keep the wound open for some time and thus leave a
channel for the water which gathers continually. Beethoven is fully
satisfied with his attendants, who consist of a cook and housemaid.
His friend and ours, Mr. Schindler, dines with him every day
and thus proves his sincere attachment to him. S. also manages
his correspondence and superintends his expenses. You will find
enclosed a receipt from Beethoven for the 1,000 florins (or 100
pounds). When I proposed to him to take half of the sum at present,
and to leave the rest with Baron Eskeles, where he might have it
safely deposited, he acknowledged to me openly that he considered
this money as a relief sent him from heaven; and that 500 florins
would not suffice for his present want. I therefore gave him,
according to his wish, the whole sum at once. Beethoven will soon
address a letter to the Philharmonic Society by which he means to
express his gratitude. I hope you will again accept my services
whenever they can be of any use to Beethoven. I am, etc.

In a letter, dated March 24, Schindler wrote to Moscheles:

I much regret that you did not express more decidedly in your
letter the wish that he should draw the 100 pounds by installments,
and I agreed with Rau to recommend this course, but he (Beethoven)
preferred acting on the last part of your letter. Care and anxiety
seemed at once to vanish when he had received the money, and he
said to me quite happily, “Now we can again look forward to some
comfortable days.” We had only 340 florins, W. W. remaining and
we had been obliged to be very economical for some time in our
housekeeping.... His delight on receiving this gift from the
Philharmonic Society resembled that of a child. A letter from that
worthy man Stumpff arrived here two days before yours and all this
affected Beethoven very much. Numberless times during the day he
exclaimed. “May God reward them a thousandfold.”

On March 28 Rau wrote again to Moscheles:

Beethoven is no more; he died on the 26th inst. at five o’clock
in the afternoon, in the most dreadful agonies of pain. He was,
as I mentioned to you in my last letter, according to his own
statement, without any relief, without any money, consequently in
the most painful circumstances; but on taking an inventory of his
property after his death, at which I was present, we found in an
old half-mouldy chest, seven Austrian bank bills which amount to
about 1,000 pounds. Whether Beethoven concealed these purposely,
for he was very mistrusting, and hoped for a speedy recovery,
or whether he was himself ignorant of his possession, remains a
riddle. We found the whole of the 100 pounds which the Philharmonic
Society sent him, and I reclaimed them according to your former
orders.[172] but was compelled to deposit them with the magistrate
until a further communication from that Society arrives. I could,
of course, not permit the expenses of the burial to be paid out of
this money without the consent of the Society. Beethoven’s nephew
now succeeds to all his property. I hope to hear from you soon and
explicitly what I am to do, and you may rest perfectly assured of
my promptness and exactitude.

[Sidenote: MOSCHELES REPORTS TO LONDON]

Moscheles, “by return post,” as he assures Mr. Watts, asked Rau to send
the £100 back to the Philharmonic Society “according to the conditions
under which the money was sent.” A correspondence ensued between
Moscheles and Hotschevar, who was appointed guardian of the nephew
after Breuning’s death (on June 4, 1827), which ended in Moscheles’ (as
he himself says) laying before the Philharmonic Society the case of
young Beethoven (then under age) and soliciting them “not to reclaim
the £100, but, in honor of the great deceased, to allow the small
patrimony to remain untouched.” Meanwhile it appears from a letter from
Schindler to Smart dated March 31,[173] that Schindler and Breuning
applied a portion of the sum to the payment of the funeral expenses;
“otherwise,” says the letter, “we could not have had him decently
buried without selling one of the seven bank-shares which constitute
his entire estate.” The sum thus expended is shown to have been 650
florins C. M. by the inventory preserved by Fischoff.

There are evidences outside of the importunate letters to London that
Beethoven had frequent spells of melancholy during the period between
the crises of his disease, which culminated in the third operation on
February 2,[174] and the fourth. Some of them were, no doubt, due to
forebodings touching the outcome of his illness; some to the anxiety
which his financial condition gave him (more imaginary than real in
view of the easily convertible bank-shares), and some presumably to
disappointment and chagrin at the conduct of his nephew, who had not
answered his letter to Iglau. Breuning explained that the negligence
might be due to Karl’s time and attention being engrossed by the
carnival gayeties at the military post, and warned Beethoven that
to give way to melancholy was to stand in the way of recovery. We
learn this from the Conversation Books, which also give glimpses of
friendly visits calculated to divert the sick man’s mind and keep
him in touch with the affairs of the city, theatre and the world at
large. Doležalek, Schuppanzigh, and apparently Linke also, came in a
group; Beethoven showed them the Handel scores and the conversation
ran out into a discussion of international politics. Moritz Lichnowsky
made a call and entertained him with the gossip of the theatres.
Gleichenstein made several visits, and once brought with him his
wife and son. The Countess was a sister of Therese Malfatti, to whom
Beethoven had once made an offer of marriage, and was disappointed
when Beethoven did not recognize her. About the middle of February
Diabelli gave Beethoven a print-picture of Haydn’s birthplace, which
he had published; Beethoven showed it to his little friend Gerhard von
Breuning and said: “Look, I got this to-day. See this little house, and
in it so great a man was born!”

[Sidenote: FRIENDS AROUND THE DEATH-BED]

On February 25 Holz is called by letter to look after the collection
of Beethoven’s annuity. His visits have been infrequent, but evidently
there are some things which Beethoven either cannot or will not
entrust to anybody else. Schindler is ceaselessly and tirelessly busy
with Beethoven’s affairs, but his statement that Breuning and he were
the only persons who were much with the composer during his illness,
except the lad, Gerhard von Breuning, must be taken with some grains
of allowance. On 123 pages of the Conversation Books, covering the
months of January and February, 1827 (the evidence of which can not be
gainsaid, since the books were long in the hand of Schindler to do with
as he willed), there are forty-eight entries by Johann van Beethoven,
forty-six by Gerhard von Breuning and thirty by Breuning the elder.
Schindler’s entries number 103. Other writers in the Books are Bernhard
(1), Holz (7), Bach (2), Piringer (6), Haslinger (11), Schikh (1),
Doležalek (4), Schuppanzigh (6), Moritz Lichnowsky (1), Gleichenstein
(1), Jekel (1), Marie Schindler, Anton’s sister (1) and Wolfmayer (1).

Sometime in February--it was probably at the time when Beethoven’s
mind was so fixedly bent on obtaining help from London--Schindler was
either ill or suffering from an accident which kept him for a brief
space from Beethoven’s bedside. The composer sent him a gift--a repast,
evidently--and a letter of sympathy so disjointed in phrase as to give
pitiful confirmation of Schindler’s statement that it was the last
letter which Beethoven wrote with his own hand, and that at the time he
could no longer think connectedly. It ran:

Concerning your accident, since it has happened, as soon as we see
each other I can send to you somebody without inconvenience--accept
this--here is something--Moscheles, Cramer--without your having
received a letter--There will be a new occasion to write one
Wednesday and lay my affairs to his heart, if you are not well by
that time one of my--can take it to the post against a receipt.
_Vale et fave_, there is no need of my assuring you of my sympathy
in your accident--do take the meal from me, it is given with all my
heart--Heaven be with you.

More pathetic than even this letter is the picture of the sufferer
in his sick-room at the time of the fourth operation (February 27).
So wretched are his surroundings that it is scarcely impossible
to avoid the conviction that not poverty alone but ignorance and
carelessness were contributary to the woeful lack of ordinary sick-room
conveniences. Gerhard von Breuning says that after the operation
the fluid which was drained from the patient’s body flowed half-way
across the floor to the middle of the room; and in the C. B. there is
a mention of saturated bedclothing and the physician suggests that
oilcloth be procured and spread over the couch. Beethoven now gave
up hope. Dr. Wawruch says: “No words of comfort could brace him up,
and when I promised him alleviation of his sufferings with the coming
of the vitalizing weather of Spring he answered with a smile: ‘My
day’s work is finished. If there were a physician could help me his
name should be called Wonderful.’ This pathetic allusion to Handel’s
‘Messiah’ touched me so deeply that I had to confess its correctness
to myself with profound emotion.” The incident so sympathetically
described bears evidence of veracity on its face; Handel’s scores were
always in Beethoven’s mind during the last weeks of his life.

Among Beethoven’s visitors in February was Wolfmayer, whose coming must
have called up a sense of a long-standing obligation and purpose in
the composer’s mind.[175] On February 22nd he dictated a letter to the
Schotts asking that the Quartet in C-sharp minor be dedicated to “my
friend Johann Nepomuk Wolfmayer.” The letter then proceeds:

Now, however, I come with a very important request.--My doctor
orders me to drink very good old Rhinewine. To get a thing of that
kind unadulterated is not possible at any price. If, therefore, I
were to receive a few small bottles I would show my gratitude to
you in the Cæcilia. I think something would be done for me at the
customs so that the transport would not cost too much. As soon as
my strength allows you shall receive the metronomic marks for the
Mass, for I am just in the period when the fourth operation is
about to be performed. The sooner, therefore, that I receive the
Rhinewine, or Moselle, the more beneficial it may be to me in my
present condition; and I beg of you most heartily to do me this
favor for which I shall be under an obligation of gratitude to you.

On March 1st he repeated his request:

I am under the necessity of becoming burdensome to you again,
inasmuch as I am sending you a packet for the Royal Government
Councillor Wegeler at Coblenz, which you will have the kindness to
transmit from Mayence to Coblenz. You know without more ado that I
am too unselfish to ask you to do all these things gratuitously.

I repeat my former request, that, namely, concerning old white
Rhinewine or Moselle. It is infinitely difficult to get any here
which is genuine and unadulterated, even at the highest price. A
few days ago, on February 27, I had my fourth operation, and yet I
am unable to look forward to my complete recovery and restoration.
Pity your devoted friend

Beethoven.

[Sidenote: WINE AND DELICACIES FOR THE SUFFERER]

On March 8 the Schotts answered that they had forwarded a case of
twelve bottles of Rüdesheimer Berg of the vintage of 1806, _via_
Frankfort, but in order that he might the sooner receive a slight
refreshment, they had sent that day four bottles of the same wine, two
pure and two mixed with herbs, to be used as a medicine which had been
prescribed for his disease. The prescription had come, they said, from
a friend who had cured many persons of dropsy with it. Before the wine
reached Vienna, on March 10, Beethoven wrote again to the Schotts:

According to my letter the Quartet was to be dedicated to one
whose name I have already sent to you. Since then there has been
an occurrence which has led me to make a change in this. It must
be dedicated to Lieut.-Fieldmarshal von Stutterheim to whom I am
deeply indebted. If you have already engraved the first dedication
I beg of you, by everything in this world, to change it and I
will gladly pay the cost. Do not accept this as an empty promise;
I attach so much importance to it that I am ready to make any
compensation for it. I enclose the title. As regards the shipment
to my friend, the Royal Prussian Government Councillor v. Wegeler
in Coblenz, I am glad to be able to relieve you wholly. Another
opportunity has offered itself. My health, which will not be
restored for a long time, pleads for the wines which I have asked
for and which will certainly bring me refreshment, strength and
health.

There are evidences that the wine was received on March 24. On March
29 the Schotts, under the impression that Beethoven was still alive,
wrote him again. Baron Pasqualati, in whose house he had lived for a
long time, an old friend, joined his new friends, the publishers, in
an effort to contribute to his physical comfort and well-being. There
are several little letters in which Beethoven acknowledges the receipt
of contributions from his cellar and larder. One of these, most likely
the first, has been endorsed by a strange hand as having been sent or
received on March 6. It reads:

Hearty thanks for your health-gift; as soon as I have found out
which of the wines is the most suitable I will let you know, but I
shall abuse your kindness as little as possible. I am rejoicing
in the expectation of the compotes and will appeal to you often
for them. Even this costs me an exertion. _Sapienta pauca_--Your
grateful friend

Beethoven.

And a little while afterwards he writes:

I beg you again to-day for a cherry compote, but without lemons,
entirely simple; also I should be glad to have a light pudding,
almost a suggestion of a gruel--my good cook is not yet adept in
food for the sick. I am allowed to drink _champagne_, but for
the time being I beg you to send a champagne glass with it. Now
as regards the wine: At first Malfatti wanted only Moselle; but
he asserted that there was none genuine to be obtained here; he
therefore himself gave me several bottles of Krumpholz-Kirchner and
claims that this is the best for my health, since no Moselle is to
be had. Pardon me for being a burden and ascribe it to my helpless
condition.

And again:

How shall I thank you enough for the glorious champagne? How
greatly has it refreshed me and will continue to do so! I need
nothing to-day and thank you for everything--whatever conclusions
you may draw in regard to the wines I beg of you to note that I
would gladly recompense you to the extent of my ability.--I can
write no more to-day. Heaven bless you for everything and for your
affectionate sympathy.

Still another:

Many thanks for the food of yesterday, which will also serve
for to-day.--I am allowed to eat game; the doctor thinks that
_Krametsvögel_ (Fieldfares) are good and wholesome for me. This for
your information, but it need not be to-day. Pardon my senseless
writing--Weary of night vigils--I embrace and reverence you.

And finally this, presumably last, letter:

My thanks for the food sent yesterday. A sick man longs for
such things like a child and therefore I beg you to-day for the
peach compote. As regards other food I must get the advice of
the physicians. Concerning the wine they consider the Grinzinger
beneficial but prefer old Krumpholz Kirchener over all others.--I
hope this statement will not cause you to misunderstand me.

Others who sent him gifts of wine were Streicher and Breuning, and, as
we see from one of the letters, Malfatti himself. There is considerable
talk in the C. B. about wine. His days were numbered--why should any
comfort be denied him?

[Sidenote: THE REPUTED VISIT BY SCHUBERT]

Concerning the last few days of his life the Conversation Books provide
absolutely no information. There is no record of the visit of Schubert
to the bedside of the dying man, but the account given by Schindler is
probably correct in the main. On page 136 of the second volume of his
biography of Beethoven, Schindler says:

As only a few of Franz Schubert’s compositions were known to him
and obsequious persons had always been busily engaged in throwing
suspicion on his talent, I took advantage of the favorable moment
to place before him several of the greater songs, such as “Die
junge Nonne,” “Die Bürgschaft,” “Der Taucher,” “Elysium” and the
Ossianic songs, acquaintance with which gave the master great
pleasure; so much, indeed, that he spoke his judgment in these
words: “Truly, the divine spark lives in Schubert,” and so forth.
At the time, however, only a small number of Schubert’s works had
appeared in print.

Here no date is fixed for the incident and a little suspicion was cast
upon the story because of the fact that only “Die junge Nonne” of all
the songs mentioned had been published at the time of Beethoven’s
death. Schindler helped himself measurably out of the dilemma by saying
in an article published in the “Theaterzeitung” of May 3, 1831, that
many of the songs which he laid before Beethoven were in manuscript. He
contradicts his statement made in the biography, however, by saying:
“What would the great master have said had he seen, for instance
the Ossianic songs, ‘Die Bürgschaft,’ ‘Elysium,’ ‘Der Taucher’ and
other great ones which have only recently been published?” As usual,
Schindler becomes more explicit when he comes to explain one of his
utterances. Now he says:

As the illness to which Beethoven finally succumbed after four
months of suffering from the beginning made his ordinary mental
activity impossible, a diversion had to be thought of which would
fit his mind and inclinations. And so it came about that I placed
before him a collection of Schubert’s songs, about 60 in number,
among them many which were then still in manuscript. This was done
not only to provide him with a pleasant entertainment, but also
to give him an opportunity to get acquainted with Schubert in his
essence in order to get from him a favorable opinion of Schubert’s
talent, which had been impugned, as had that of others by some of
the exalted ones. The great master, who before then had not known
five songs of Schubert’s, was amazed at their number and refused
to believe that up to that time (February, 1827) he had already
composed over 500 of them. But if he was astonished at the number
he was filled with the highest admiration as soon as he discovered
their contents. For several days he could not separate himself from
them, and every day he spent hours with Iphigenia’s monologue,
“Die Grenzen der Menschheit,” “Die Allmacht,” “Die junge Nonne,”
“Viola,” the “Müllerlieder,” and others. With joyous enthusiasm he
cried out repeatedly: “Truly, a divine spark dwells in Schubert;
if I had had this poem I would have set it to music”; this in the
case of the majority of poems whose material contents and original
treatment by Schubert he could not praise sufficiently. Nor could
he understand how Schubert had time to “take in hand such long
poems, many of which contained ten others,” as he expressed it....
What would the master have said had he seen, for instance, the
Ossianic songs, “Die Bürgschaft,” “Elysium,” “Der Taucher” and
other great ones which have only recently been published? In short,
the respect which Beethoven acquired for Schubert’s talent was so
great that he now wanted to see his operas and pianoforte pieces;
but his illness had now become so severe that he could no longer
gratify this wish. But he often spoke of Schubert and predicted of
him that he “would make a great sensation in the world,” and often
regretted that he had not learned to know him earlier.

It is likely that the remark, “Truly, the divine spark dwells in
Schubert,” as Schindler quoted it in his biography, came more than
once from Beethoven’s lips. Luib heard Hüttenbrenner say that one day
Beethoven said of Schubert, “He has the divine spark!” Schindler’s
article in the “Theaterzeitung” was a defense of the opinion which he
had expressed that Schubert was a greater song-composer than Beethoven,
and for this reason it may be assumed that it was a little high-pitched
in expression. Beethoven knew a little about Schubert, but not much, as
appears from a remark quoted from Holz in one of the Conversation Books
of 1826. It may have been Schindler’s ambition to appear as having
stood sponsor for Schubert before Beethoven which led him to ignore
Holz’s remark concerning Schubert’s unique genius as a writer of songs,
his interest in Handel and his patronage of Schuppanzigh’s quartet
parties. Beethoven and Schubert had met. Anselm Hüttenbrenner wrote to
Luib:[176]

But this I know positively, that about eight days before
Beethoven’s death Prof. Schindler, Schubert and I visited the sick
man, Schindler announced us two and asked Beethoven whom he would
see first. He said: “Let Schubert come first.”

It is characteristic of Schindler that he makes no mention of this
incident. Another incident recorded by Gerhard von Breuning deserves
to be told here. When Beethoven’s friends called they usually reported
to Beethoven about the performances of his works. One day Gerhard von
Breuning found that a visitor had written in the Conversation Book:
“Your Quartet which Schuppanzigh played yesterday did not please.”
Beethoven was asleep when Gerhard came and when he awoke the lad
pointed to the entry. Beethoven remarked, laconically: “It will please
them some day,” adding that he wrote only as he thought best and would
not permit himself to be deceived by the judgment of the day, saying at
the end: “I know that I am an artist.”

[Sidenote: FERDINAND HILLER’S LAST VISIT]

In a letter which Schindler wrote to Moscheles, forwarding Beethoven’s,
he said: “Hummel and his wife are here; he came in haste to see
Beethoven once again alive, for it is generally reported in Germany
that he is on his deathbed. It was a most touching sight last Thursday
to see these two friends meet again.” The letter was written on March
14 and the “last Thursday” was March 8th. We have an account of this
meeting in Ferdinand Hiller’s “Aus dem Tonleben unserer Zeit.”[177]
Hiller was then fifteen years old and had come to the Austrian Capital
with Hummel, who was his teacher. Hummel had heard in Weimar that
Beethoven was hopelessly ill and had reached Vienna on March 6; two
days later he visited his dying friend. Hiller writes:

Through a spacious anteroom in which high cabinets were piled
with thick, tied-up parcels of music we reached--how my heart
beat!--Beethoven’s living-room, and were not a little astonished
to find the master sitting in apparent comfort at the window. He
wore a long, gray sleeping-robe, open at the time, and high boots
reaching to his knees. Emaciated by long and severe illness he
seemed to me, when he arose, of tall stature; he was unshaven,
his thick, half-gray hair fell in disorder over his temples. The
expression of his features heightened when he caught sight of
Hummel, and he seemed to be extraordinarily glad to meet him. The
two men embraced each other most cordially. Hummel introduced
me. Beethoven showed himself extremely kind and I was permitted
to sit opposite him at the window. It is known that conversation
with Beethoven was carried on in part in writing; he spoke, but
those with whom he conversed had to write their questions and
answers. For this purpose thick sheets of ordinary writing-paper
in quarto form and lead-pencils always lay near him. How painful
it must have been for the animated, easily impatient man to be
obliged to wait for every answer, to make a pause in every moment
of conversation, during which, as it were, thought was condemned
to come to a standstill! He always followed the hand of the
writer with hungry eyes and comprehended what was written at a
glance instead of reading it. The liveliness of the conversation
naturally interfered with the continual writing of the visitor. I
can scarcely blame myself, much as I regret it, for not taking down
more extended notes than I did; indeed, I rejoice that a lad of
fifteen years who found himself in a great city for the first time,
was self-possessed enough to regard any details. I can vouch with
the best conscience for the perfect accuracy of all that I am able
to repeat.

The conversation at first turned, as is usual, on domestic
affair,--the journey and sojourn, my relations with Hummel and
matters of that kind. Beethoven asked about Goethe’s health with
extraordinary solicitude and we were able to make the best of
reports, since only a few days before the great poet had written
in my album. Concerning his own state, poor Beethoven complained
much. “Here I have been lying for four months,” he cried out,
“one must at last lose patience!” Other things in Vienna did not
seem to be to his liking and he spoke with the utmost severity
of “the present taste in art,” and “the dilettantism which is
ruining everything.” Nor did he spare the government, up to the
most exalted regions. “Write a volume of penitential hymns and
dedicate it to the Empress,” he remarked with a gloomy smile to
Hummel, who, however, made no use of the well-meant advice. Hummel,
who was a practical man, took advantage of Beethoven’s condition
to ask his attention to a matter which occupied a long time. It
was about the theft of one of Hummel’s concertos, which had been
printed illicitly before it had been brought out by the lawful
publisher. Hummel wanted to appeal to the Bundestag against this
wretched business, and to this end desired to have Beethoven’s
signature, which seemed to him of great value. He sat down to
explain the matter in writing and meanwhile I was permitted to
carry on the conversation with Beethoven. I did my best, and the
master continued to give free rein to his moody and passionate
utterances in the most confidential manner. In part they referred
to his nephew, whom he had loved greatly, who, as is known, caused
him much trouble and at that time, because of a few trifles (thus
Beethoven at least seemed to consider them), had gotten into
trouble with the officials. “Little thieves are hanged, but big
ones are allowed to go free!” he exclaimed ill-humoredly. He
asked about my studies and, encouraging me, said: “Art must be
propagated ceaselessly,” and when I spoke of the exclusive interest
in Italian opera which then prevailed in Vienna, he gave utterance
to the memorable words: “It is said _vox populi, vox dei_. I never
believed it.”

On March 13 Hummel took me with him a second time to Beethoven. We
found his condition to be materially worse. He lay in bed, seemed
to suffer great pains, and at intervals groaned deeply despite the
fact that he spoke much and animatedly. Now he seemed to take it
much to heart that he had not married. Already at our first visit
he had joked about it with Hummel, whose wife he had known as a
young and beautiful maiden. “You are a lucky man,” he said to him
now smilingly, “you have a wife who takes care of you, who is in
love with you--but poor me!” and he sighed heavily. He also begged
of Hummel to bring his wife to see him, she not having been able
to persuade herself to see in his present state the man whom she
had known at the zenith of his powers. A short time before he had
received a present of a picture of the house in which Haydn was
born. He kept it close at hand and showed it to us. “It gave me a
childish pleasure,” he said, “the cradle of so great a man!” Then
he appealed to Hummel in behalf of Schindler, of whom so much was
spoken afterwards. “He is a good man,” he said, “who has taken a
great deal of trouble on my account. He is to give a concert soon
at which I promised my coöperation. But now nothing is likely
to come of that. Now I should like to have you do me the favor
of playing. We must always help poor artists.” As a matter of
course, Hummel consented. The concert took place--ten days after
Beethoven’s death--in the Josephstadt-Theater. Hummel improvised
in an obviously exalted mood on the Allegretto of the A major
Symphony; the public knew why he participated and the performance
and its reception formed a truly inspiring incident.

Shortly after our second visit the report spread throughout Vienna
that the Philharmonic Society of London had sent Beethoven £100
in order to ease his sick-bed. It was added that this surprise
had made so great an impression on the great poor man that it had
also brought physical relief. When we stood again at his bedside,
on the 20th, we could educe from his utterances how greatly he had
been rejoiced by this altruism; but he was very weak and spoke
only in faint and disconnected phrases. “I shall, no doubt, soon
be going above,” he whispered after our first greeting. Similar
remarks recurred frequently. In the intervals, however, he spoke of
projects and hopes which were destined not to be realized. Speaking
of the noble conduct of the Philharmonic Society and in praise of
the English people, he expressed the intention, as soon as matters
were better with him, to undertake the journey to London. “I will
compose a grand overture for them and a grand symphony.” Then, too,
he would visit Madame Hummel (she had come along with her husband)
and go to I do not know how many places. It did not occur to us to
write anything for him. His eyes, which were still lively when we
saw him last, dropped and closed to-day and it was difficult from
time to time for him to raise himself. It was no longer possible to
deceive one’s self--the worst was to be feared.

Hopeless was the picture presented by the extraordinary man when
we sought him again on March 23rd. It was to be the last time. He
lay, weak and miserable, sighing deeply at intervals. Not a word
fell from his lips; sweat stood upon his forehead. His handkerchief
not being conveniently at hand, Hummel’s wife took her fine cambric
handkerchief and dried his face several times. Never shall I forget
the grateful glance with which his broken eye looked upon her. On
March 26, while we were with a merry company in the art-loving
house of Herr von Liebenberg (who had formerly been a pupil of
Hummel’s), we were surprised by a severe storm between five and
six o’clock. A thick snow-flurry was accompanied by loud peals of
thunder and flashes of lightning, which lighted up the room. A few
hours later guests arrived with the intelligence that Ludwig van
Beethoven was no more;--he had died at 4:45 o’clock.

[Sidenote: THE SIGNING OF THE WILL]

The consultations between Beethoven and his legal advisers, Bach,
Breuning and others, concerning the proper disposition of his estate
by will, which had begun soon after Karl’s departure for Iglau, had
not been brought to a conclusion when it became apparent to all that
it was high time that the document formally be executed. Dr. Bach does
not seem to have been consulted at this crisis; haste was necessary,
and on March 23 von Breuning made a draft of a will which, free from
unnecessary verbiage, set forth the wishes of the testator in three
lines of writing. Beethoven had protested against the proposition of
his friends that provision be made that Karl should not be able to
dissipate the capital or surrender any portion of it to his mother. To
this end a trust was to be created and he was to have the income during
life, the reversion being to his legitimate heirs. With this Beethoven
at length declared himself satisfied; but when Breuning placed the
draft before the dying man, who had yielded unwillingly, he copied
it laboriously but substituted the word “natural” for “legitimate.”
Schindler says the copying was a labor, and when Beethoven finished it
and appended his signature he said: “There; now I’ll write no more.”
Breuning called his attention to the fact that controversy would ensue
from his change in the text, but Beethoven insisted that the words
meant the same thing and there should be no change. “This,” says
Schindler, “was his last contradiction.” Hiller’s description of the
last visit of Hummel, pictures the condition of the dying man on this
day, and Schindler’s statement that it was laborious for Beethoven to
copy even the few words of the will is pathetically verified by the
orthography of the document which, _verb. et lit._, is as follows:

Mein Neffe Karl Soll alleiniger Erbe seyn, das Kapital meines
Nachlasses soll jedoch Seinen natürlichen oder testamentarischen
Erben zufallen.

Wien am 23 März 1827.
Ludwig van Beethoven mp.

According to Gerhard von Breuning, signatures were necessary to
several documents--the will, the transfer of the guardianship of the
nephew to von Breuning and the letter of January 3, which also made a
testamentary disposition of Beethoven’s property. These signatures were
all obtained with great difficulty. The younger von Breuning places
the date on March 24th. After von Breuning, Schindler and the dying
man’s brother had indicated to Beethoven, who lay in a half-stupor,
that his signature was required they raised him as much as possible and
pushed pillows under him for support. Then the documents, one after the
other, were laid before him and von Breuning put the inked pen in his
hand. “The dying man, who ordinarily wrote boldly in a lapidary style,
repeatedly signed his immortal name, laboriously, with trembling hand,
for the last time; still legibly, indeed, but each time forgetting one
of the middle letters--once an _h_, another time an_e_.”

[Sidenote: “COMŒDIA FINITA EST.”]

On the day which saw the signing of the will, Beethoven made an
utterance, eminently characteristic of him, but which, because of an
interpretation which it has received, has caused no small amount of
comment. The date is fixed as March 23rd by Schindler’s letter to
Moscheles of March 24th in which he says: “Yesterday he said to me and
Breuning, ‘Plaudite, amici, comœdia finita est’.” Though the phrase
does not seem to be a literal quotation from any author known to have
been familiar to Beethoven, it is obviously a paraphrase of something
which he had read. According to Schindler and Gerhard von Breuning
the words were uttered in a tone of sarcastic humor. Schindler and
Dr. Wawruch (though the latter was not present) agree in saying that
he made the speech after receiving the viaticum, and it is this
circumstance, coupled with the deduction that the dying man referred to
the sacred function just performed, which greatly disturbed the minds
of some of his devout admirers. It needed not have done so; the phrase
is almost a literary commonplace and its significance has never been in
question.[178]

When Beethoven’s friends saw the end approaching, they were naturally
desirous that he receive the spiritual comfort which the offices of the
Roman Catholic church offer to the dying and it was equally natural
that Beethoven, brought up as a child of the church though careless of
his duties toward it, should, at the last, be ready to accept them.
Johann van Beethoven relates that a few days after the 16th of March,
when the physicians gave him up for lost, he had begged his brother to
make his peace with God, to which request he acceded “with the greatest
readiness.” Confirmation of this is found in Dr. Wawruch’s report.
Wawruch, it will be remembered, had, at the beginning of his studies,
intended to enter the priesthood. At the crisis described by Johann he
says he called Beethoven’s attention to his impending dissolution “so
that he might do his duty as a citizen and to religion.” He continues:

With the greatest delicacy I wrote the words of admonition on a
sheet of paper.... Beethoven read the writing with unexampled
composure, slowly and thoughtfully, his countenance like that of
one transfigured; cordially and solemnly he held out his hand to
me and said: “Have the priest called.” Then he lay quietly lost in
thought and amiably indicated by a nod his “I shall soon see you
again.” Soon thereafter Beethoven performed his devotions with a
pious resignation which looked confidently into eternity and turned
to the friends around him with the words, “Plaudite, amici, finita
est comœdia!”

Wawruch was not present at the time when the words were spoken.
Schindler’s account, in a letter to the “Cäcilia” dated April 12, 1827,
and printed in that journal in May, is as follows:

On the day before (the 23rd) there remained with us only one
ardent wish--to reconcile him with heaven and to show the world
at the same time that he had ended his life a true Christian. The
Professor in Ordinary [Wawruch] therefore wrote and begged him
in the name of all his friends to receive the holy sacrament; to
which he replied quietly and firmly (_gefasst_), “I wish it.” The
physician went away and left us to care for it.

Schindler describes the administration of the sacrament, which
Beethoven received with edification, and adds that now for the first
time he seemed to believe that he was about to die; for “scarcely
had the priest left the room before he said to me and young von
Breuning, ‘Plaudite, amici, comœdia finita est. Did I not always
say that it would end thus?’” (“_Habe ich nicht immer gesagt, dass
es so kommen wird?_”) Here there is agreement with Wawruch, but, to
Gerhard von Breuning, Schindler said that Beethoven made the remark at
the conclusion of a long consultation after the physicians had gone
away; and this is confirmed by Gerhard von Breuning. In 1860 Anselm
Hüttenbrenner wrote:[179]

It is not true, as has been reported, that I begged Beethoven to
receive the sacrament for the dying; but I did bring it about at
the request of the wife of the music-publisher Tobias Haslinger,
now deceased, that Beethoven was asked in the gentlest manner by
Herr Johann Baptist Jenger and Madame van Beethoven, wife of the
landowner, to strengthen himself by receiving holy communion. It
is a pure invention that Beethoven spoke the words “Plaudite,
amici! Comœdia finita est!” to me, for I was not present when
the rite was administered in the forenoon of March 24, 1827. And
surely Beethoven did not make to others an utterance so completely
at variance with his sturdy character. But on the day of her
brother-in-law’s death Frau v. Beethoven told me that after
receiving the viaticum he said to the priest, “I thank you, ghostly
sir! You have brought me comfort!”

Hüttenbrenner is confirmed by Johann van Beethoven, who wrote in his
brief review of his brother’s last illness that when the priest was
leaving the room Beethoven said to him, “I thank you for this last
service.”

[Sidenote: INCIDENTS OF THE FINAL STRUGGLE]

Beethoven received the viaticum in the presence of Schindler, von
Breuning, Jenger and the wife of his brother Johann. After the priest
had taken his departure he reminded his friends of the necessity of
sending a document ceding the proprietary rights of the C-sharp minor
Quartet to the Schotts. It was drawn up and his signature to it, the
last which he wrote, was attested by Schindler and Breuning. He also
spoke of a letter of thanks to the Philharmonic Society of London and
in suggesting its tenor, comprehended the whole English people with a
fervent “God bless them!” About one o’clock the special shipment of
wine and wine mixed with herbs came from Mayence, and Schindler placed
the bottles upon the table near the bed. Beethoven looked at them and
murmured, “Pity, pity--too late!” He spoke no more. A little of the
wine was administered to him in spoonfuls at intervals, as long as
he could swallow it. Towards evening he lost consciousness and the
death-struggle began. It lasted two days. “From towards the evening of
the 24th to his last breath he was almost continually _in delirio_,”
wrote Schindler to Moscheles. We have a description from Gerhard von
Breuning:[180]

During the next day and the day following the strong man lay
completely unconscious, in the process of dissolution, breathing
so stertorously that the rattle could be heard at a distance. His
powerful frame, his unweakened lungs, fought like giants with
approaching death. The spectacle was a fearful one. Although it
was known that the poor man suffered no more it was yet appalling
to observe that the noble being, now irredeemably a prey to the
powers of dissolution, was beyond all mental communication.
It was expected as early as the 25th that he would pass away
in the following night; yet we found him still alive on the
26th--breathing, if that was possible, more stertorously than on
the day before.

The only witnesses of Beethoven’s death were his sister-in-law and
Anselm Hüttenbrenner. From the latter we have a description of the last
scene.[181]

When I entered Beethoven’s bedroom on March 26, 1827 at about 3
o’clock in the afternoon, I found there Court Councillor Breuning,
his son, Frau van Beethoven, wife of Johann van Beethoven,
landowner and apothecary of Lenz, and my friend Joseph Teltscher,
portrait painter. I think that Prof. Schindler was also present.

Gerhard von Breuning says that Beethoven’s brother was in the room, and
also the housekeeper Sali; Schindler adds a nurse from Dr. Wawruch’s
clinic. No doubt all were present at one moment or another; they came
and went as occasion or duty called. Hüttenbrenner says that Teltscher
began drawing the face of the dying man, which grated on Breuning’s
feelings and he made a remonstrance, whereupon the painter left the
room. Then Breuning and Schindler went away to choose a spot for the
grave. Hüttenbrenner continues:

Frau van Beethoven and I only were in the death-chamber during
the last moments of Beethoven’s life. After Beethoven had lain
unconscious, the death-rattle in his throat from 3 o’clock in the
afternoon till after 5, there came a flash of lightning accompanied
by a violent clap of thunder, which garishly illuminated the
death-chamber. (Snow lay before Beethoven’s dwelling.) After
this unexpected phenomenon of nature, which startled me greatly,
Beethoven opened his eyes, lifted his right hand and looked up
for several seconds with his fist clenched and a very serious,
threatening expression as if he wanted to say: “Inimical powers,
I defy you! Away with you! God is with me!” It also seemed as if,
like a brave commander, he wished to call out to his wavering
troops: “Courage, soldiers! Forward! Trust in me! Victory is
assured!”[182]. When he let the raised hand sink to the bed, his
eyes closed half-way. My right hand was under his head, my left
rested on his breast. Not another breath, not a heartbeat more!
The genius of the great master of tones fled from this world of
delusion into the realm of truth!--I pressed down the half-open
eyelids of the dead man, kissed them, then his forehead, mouth and
hands.--At my request Frau van Beethoven cut a lock of hair from
his head and handed it to me as a sacred souvenir of Beethoven’s
last hour. Thereupon I hurried, deeply moved, into the city,
carried the intelligence of Beethoven’s death to Herr Tobias
Haslinger, and after a few hours returned to my home in Styria.

[Sidenote: THE CAUSE OF BEETHOVEN’S DEATH]

It remained for modern science to give the right name to the disease
which caused the death of the greatest of all tone-poets. Dropsy, said
the world for three-quarters of a century. But dropsy is not a disease;
it is only a symptom, a condition due to disease. To Dr. Theodor von
Frimmel belongs the credit of having made it clear that the fatal
malady was cirrhosis of the liver, of which _ascites_, or _hydrops
abdominalis_, was a consequence. Beethoven had suffered from disorders
of the liver years before. In 1821, as has been noted, he suffered an
attack of jaundice. In his medical history of the case, Dr. Wawruch
stated that the cause of the disease was to be found in an “antiquated”
ailment of liver as well as defects in the abdominal organs. When he
observed the first aggravation of the disease he recorded that “the
liver plainly showed traces of hard knots, the jaundice increased.” In
his report of the autopsy, Dr. Wagner said: “The liver seemed to have
shrunk to one half its normal size, to have a leathery hardness, a
greenish-blue color, and its lumpy surface, as well as its substance,
was interwoven with knots the size of a bean. All the blood-vessels
were narrow, with thickened walls and empty.” The treatment prescribed
by Dr. Wawruch and adopted empirically at the suggestion of friends was
designed, not to go to the seat of the difficulty but to relieve the
dropsical condition of the abdominal cavity;--medicaments, decoctions,
the unfortunate sweat-bath, all were intended to produce liquid
evacuations from the bowels, increase the secretion of urine and induce
perspiration; the final resort was to _paracentesis_.[183]

When Breuning and Schindler left the dying man in the care of
Hüttenbrenner and Frau van Beethoven, they went to the cemetery of the
little village of Währing, and selected a place for Beethoven’s grave
in the vicinity of the burial plot of the Vering family, to which
Breuning’s first wife had belonged. Their return was retarded by the
storm. When they reëntered the sick-room they were greeted with the
words: “It is finished!” The immediate activities of the friends were
now directed to preparations for the funeral, the preservation of the
physical likeness of the great composer and, so far as was necessary,
the safeguarding of his possessions. In respect of the latter Gerhard
von Breuning tells of a painful incident which happened on the day
after Beethoven’s death.

Breuning, Schindler, Johann van Beethoven and Holz were met in the
lodgings to gather up the dead man’s papers, particularly to look
for the seven bank-shares which the will had given to the nephew. In
spite of strenuous search they were not found and Johann let fall an
insinuation that the search was a sham. This angered von Breuning and
he left the house in a state of vexation and excitement. He returned
to the lodgings in the afternoon and the search was resumed. Then Holz
pulled out a protruding nail in a cabinet, whereupon a drawer fell
out and in it were the certificates. In later years Holz explained to
Otto Jahn: “Beethoven kept his bank-shares in a secret drawer, the
existence of which was known only to Holz. While Beethoven lay dying
his brother in vain tried to find out where it was.” On a copy of this
memorandum,[184] Schindler wrote: “First of all after the death, Johann
van Beethoven searched for the shares, and not finding them cried out:
‘Breuning and Schindler must produce them!’ Holz was requested to come
by Breuning and asked if he did not know where they were concealed. He
knew the secret drawer in an old cabinet in which they were preserved.”
Even this simple incident has given rise to contradictory stories.
Schindler, in his biography, says the place of concealment was a
secret drawer in a _Kassette_; Breuning, “in a secret compartment of
a writing-desk.” In 1863, Schindler explained to Gerhard von Breuning
that the article of furniture was an ordinary clothes-press. With the
certificates were found the letter to the “Immortal Beloved” and the
portrait of the Countess von Brunswick.[185]

On March 27th, an autopsy was performed by Dr. Johann Wagner in the
presence of Dr. Wawruch. Its significant disclosures have already been
printed here. In order to facilitate an examination of the organs of
hearing the temporal bones were sawed out and carried away. Joseph
Danhauser, a young painter who chanced to be in Vienna, received
permission from Breuning to make a plaster cast of the dead man’s face.
This he did on March 28th, but the cast has little value as a portrait,
inasmuch as it was made after the autopsy, which had greatly disfigured
the features. On the same day (not “immediately after death,” as has
incorrectly been stated) Danhauser made a drawing of the head of
Beethoven, which he reproduced by lithographic process. This picture
bears the inscription: “Beethoven, March 28, drawn at his death-bed,
1827,” and to the left, “Danhauser.” This drawing, too, was made after
the autopsy. For a bust which he modeled, the artist made use of the
cast taken by Klein in 1812. Danhauser never came in contact with
Beethoven alive.

[Sidenote: IMPOSING FUNERAL CEREMONIES]

The funeral took place at 3 o’clock in the afternoon of March 29th.
It was one of the most imposing functions of its kind ever witnessed
in Vienna.[186] Breuning and Schindler had made the arrangements.
Cards of invitation were given out at Haslinger’s music-shop. Hours
before the appointed time a multitude assembled in front of the
Schwarzspanierhaus, and the mass grew moment by moment. Into the square
in front of the house, it is said, 20,000 persons were crowded. All the
notable representatives of art were present. The schools were closed.
For the preservation of order, Breuning had asked the help of the
military. In its report “Der Sammler” said:

The crowd was so great that after the roomy court of Beethoven’s
residence could no longer hold it the gates had to be closed until
the procession moved. The coffin containing the corpse of the great
composer had been placed on view in the court. After the clergy
were come to perform their sacred office, the guests, who had been
invited to attend these solemn functions--musicians, singers,
poets, actors--all clad in complete mourning, with draped torches
and white roses fastened to bands of crape on their sleeves,
encircled the bier and the choristers sang the _Miserere_[187]
composed by the deceased. Solemnly, sublimely the pious tones of
the glorious composition floated upwards through the silent air.
The scene was imposing. The coffin, with its richly embroidered
pall, the clergy, the distinguished men who were giving the last
escort to their colleague, and the multitude round about--all this
made a stupendous picture.

On the conclusion of the canticle, the coffin was raised from the
bier and the door of the court was opened. The singers lifted the
coffin to their shoulders and carried it to the Trinity Church of the
Minorites in the Alserstrasse. It was difficult to order the procession
because of the surging multitude. Johann van Beethoven, von Breuning
and his son and Schindler, found their places with difficulty. Eight
chapelmasters--Eybler, Weigl, Hummel, Seyfried, Kreutzer, Gyrowetz,
Würfel and Gänsbacher--carried the edges of the pall. At the sides
walked the torch-bearers, among them Schubert, Castelli, Bernard,
Böhm, Czerny, Grillparzer, Haslinger, Holz, Linke, Mayseder, Piringer,
Schuppanzigh, Streicher, Steiner and Wolfmayer. In the procession
were also Mosel and the pupils of Drechsler. While passing the Rothes
Haus the sounds of the funeral march from Beethoven’s Sonata, Op.
26, were heard. The cortège moved through the crowded streets to the
parish church in the Alserstrasse, where the service for the dead
was concluded with the _Libera nos Domine_ in 16 parts _a cappella_,
composed by Seyfried, sung by the choristers.

The account of the “Sammler” continues: “The coffin was now placed in
the hearse drawn by four horses, and taken to the cemetery at Währing.
There, too, a multitude had assembled to do the last honors to the dead
man....” The rules of the cemetery prohibiting all public speaking
within its precincts, the actor Anschütz delivered a funeral oration
written by Grillparzer over the coffin at the cemetery gate. After the
coffin had been lowered into the grave, Haslinger handed three laurel
wreaths to Hummel, who placed them upon the coffin. A poem by Castelli
had been distributed at the house of mourning, and one by Baron von
Schlechta at the cemetery; but there was no more speaking or singing at
the burial.

Mozart’s “Requiem” was sung at the Church of the Augustinians, Lablache
taking part, on April 3rd, and Cherubini’s at the Karlskirche two days
later. The grave in the cemetery at Währing was marked by a simple
pyramid bearing the one word

BEETHOVEN

It fell into neglect, and on October 13th, 1863, the Gesellschaft der
Musikfreunde of Vienna caused the body to be exhumed and re-buried. On
June 21st, 1888, the remains of Beethoven and Schubert were removed to
the Central Cemetery in Vienna, where they now repose side by side.

FINIS.

FOOTNOTES:

[162] He did not live to see this wish fulfilled; but it was in the
end. Therese van Beethoven, Johann’s wife, died on November 20, 1828,
at Wasserhof; Johann died in Vienna on January 12, 1848, and though
one of Beethoven’s sensation-mongering biographers at one time printed
the monstrous falsehood that he had married his wife’s illegitimate
daughter in order to keep the family possessions in his hands, and
at another that he had invested his money so that he might use it up
during his life and leave nothing to his heirs, the fact is that Johann
made Karl his sole heir and that under the will, after paying the costs
of probate and administration and a legacy to his housekeeper, over
42,000 florins passed into his nephew’s hands.

[163] Wawruch was a native of Nemtschütz in Moravia. At Olmütz he was
a student of theology, but before consecration to the priesthood he
came to Vienna as tutor and there decided to abandon the church for
medicine. In the course of time he became assistant and also son-in-law
to Professor Hildebrand, the director of the General Hospital. Thence
he went to Prague as professor of general pathology and pharmacology
and, returning to Vienna, became professor of special pathology and
medical clinics in the surgical department of the Hospital. He died
in 1842. He was accused of adhering to old-fashioned theories in his
practice and of having been antagonistic to the determinations of
pathological anatomy, and the criticisms of von Breuning and others
have pursued him through all the books devoted to Beethoven’s life;
yet the scientific determinations of to-day offer justification of his
diagnosis and treatment of Beethoven’s case so far as it is possible to
judge at this late day.

[164] Holz’s statement on this point has already been given in an
earlier chapter. To Otto Jahn Dr. Bertolini said: “Beethoven liked to
drink a glass of wine, but he was never a drinker or a gourmand.”

[165] “Better from my belly than from my pen,” is another remark
credited to him by Seyfried.

[166] The Royal Library acquired the autograph manuscripts of the
instrumental movements of the Symphony from Schindler, and the choral
part from the Artaria Collection of Vienna when it was dispersed by
sale in 1901. The autograph is not intact, however, the coda of the
Scherzo, consisting of four pages, having been given to Moscheles by
Schindler on September 14, 1827. Moscheles in turn gave the relic to
Henry Phillips. In July, 1907, it was purchased at a public sale by Mr.
Edward Speyer, its owner at the present writing. The autograph of the
Finale, too, had been mutilated, a page containing the five measures
immediately preceding the _Allegro energico_, 6-4 time, with the words
“Über Sternen muss er wohnen,” having been removed. It was sold by an
autograph dealer of Berlin to Charles Malherbe, of Paris, who on his
death bequeathed it to the Conservatoire. As published, the _Allegro
non tanto_ contains eight measures which Beethoven did not write in the
autograph, but are, no doubt, an addition made by him in a revision. It
would be a beautiful act of piety to assemble the autograph score and
publish it in _facsimile_.

[167] Mr. Thayer, who has given expression in these pages to his
belief that Schindler was honest, in transcribing this page of the
Conversation Book writes these words: “It is to be noted, first, that
the writing (‘The Old Woman,’ etc.) does not correspond with the rest,
and secondly, that _Die Alte_ was no longer in Beethoven’s service.
It is evident on inspection and from the talk in these last books
about Thekla and other servants that Schindler inserted these words
long afterwards. The ‘Es muss sein’ can only refer here to Beethoven’s
receipt for the ring.” Whether or not Thayer suspected what may have
been Schindler’s purpose in making the interlineation does not appear.

[168] Schindler, impeaching Dr. Wawruch’s accuracy here, denies that
Beethoven worked on oratorio of “Saul and David” during his last
illness. Thayer in a note directs attention to the fact that Beethoven
was confessedly deeply absorbed in Handel’s scores, which he had
received only a short time before, and that before the end of December
Kiesewetter sent a request through Holz for a return of the pianoforte
score of “Saul” as no longer necessary, now that the scores were come.

[169] Dr. von Breuning should have said “third.”

[170] Thayer procured a copy of this letter in London along with the
other Stumpff papers already mentioned. Only a fragment of the letter
has been printed hitherto in the collections of Beethoven’s letters and
that, in great probability, from the draft preserved by Schindler. The
newspaper article referred to was printed in the “Modezeitung.”

[171] “Documents, Letters etc., relating to the Bust of Ludwig van
Beethoven, presented to the Philharmonic Society of London, by Frau
Fanny Linzbauer (_née_ Ponsing). Translated and Arranged for the
Society by Doyne C. Bell, London: Published for the Philharmonic
Society by Lamborn Cock and Co., 63 New Bond Street, W. 1871.”

[172] Schindler had accompanied Beethoven’s application to Moscheles
for relief with a personal letter in which he advised that the
Philharmonic Society, in case it should accede to his request, explain
to Beethoven that the amount would be sent to a responsible person
in Vienna from whom it might be drawn by degrees according to his
requirements; and that this precautionary step was taken “because, as
they well knew, some of his relations who are with him do not act quite
uprightly towards him”--a fling, of course, at the composer’s brother
whom he so cordially hated; the nephew was not in Vienna.

[173] Among Mr. Thayer’s papers.

[174] The third operation was performed on February 2, not January 28,
as Schindler says.

[175] Wolfmayer had commissioned him years before to write a “Requiem,”
and paid him for it.

[176] Letter among Mr. Thayer’s papers.

[177] Neue Folge, 1871, p. 169 _et seq._

[178] “Rabelais being very sick, Cardinal du Bellay sent his page to
him to have an account of his condition; his answer was, ‘Tell my Lord
in what circumstances thou findest me; I am going to leap into the
dark. He is up in the cockloft, bid him keep where he is. As for thee,
thou’lt always be a fool: let down the curtain, the farce is done.’”
... An author (Thov. His. de Jean Clopinel) who styles Rabelais a man
of excellent learning, writes, that he being importuned by some to
sign a will whereby they had made him bestow on them legacies that
exceeded his ability, he, to be no more disturbed, complied at last
with their desires; but when they came to ask him where they should
find a fund answerable to what he gave; ‘as for that,’ replied he,
‘you must do like the spaniel, look about and search’; then, adds that
author, having said, ‘Draw the curtain, the farce is over,’ he died.
Likewise a monk (P. de St. Romuald, _Rel. Feuillant_) not only tells us
that he ended his life with that jest, but that he left a paper sealed
up wherein were found three articles as his last will: ‘I owe much,
I have nothing, I give the rest to the poor.’ The last story or that
before it must undoubtedly be false; and perhaps both are so as well
as the message by the page; though Fregius (_Comment. in Orat. Cic._,
tom. I) relates also that Rabelais said when he was dying, ‘Draw the
curtain,’ etc. But if he said so, many great men have said much the
same. Thus Augustus (_Nunquid vitæ mimum commode peregisset_) near his
death, asked his friends whether he had not very well acted the farce
of life? And Demonax, one of the best philosophers, when he saw that he
could not, by reason of his great age, live any longer, without being
a burden to others, as well as to himself, said to those who were near
him what the herald used to say when the public games were ended, ‘You
may withdraw, the show is over,’ and refusing to eat, kept his usual
gaiety to the last, and set himself at ease. (Lucian)--_From Peter
Motteux’s Life of Rabelais prefaced to the English translation made by
himself and Sir Thomas Urquhart._

[179] In a letter to Mr. Thayer which was found among Hüttenbrenner’s
posthumous papers and printed in the “Gratzer Tagespost” of October
23rd, 1868.

[180] “Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause,” p. 108.

[181] Mr. Thayer visited Hüttenbrenner in Gratz in June, 1860. His
transcript of what Hüttenbrenner told him is reprinted in “Music and
Manners in the Classical Period,” by Henry Edward Krehbiel (New York,
1898). The account in the body of the text is that contained in a
letter to Mr. Thayer.

[182] The transcript in Mr. Thayer’s note-book of Hüttenbrenner’s
oral recital is more sententious and dramatic: “At this startling,
awful, peal of thunder, the dying man suddenly raised his head
from Hüttenbrenner’s arm, stretched out his own right arm
majestically--‘like a general giving orders to an army’. This was but
for an instant; the arm sunk back; he fell back; Beethoven was dead.”

[183] The revised edition of Grove’s “Dictionary of Music and
Musicians,” 1904, says: “The cold had developed into an inflammation
of the lungs, and on this dropsy supervened.” Dr. Wawruch was
unquestionably correct in his diagnosis not only in regard to the
inflammation of the lungs but also in regard to the diseased condition
of the liver.

[184] Preserved amongst Thayer’s papers.

[185] The attested inventory of the sale of Beethoven’s effects, which,
preserved by Fischoff, passed through the hands of Otto Jahn into those
of Mr. Thayer, showed that his estate amounted to 9,885 florins, 13
kreutzer, silver, and 600 florins, paper (Vienna standard). The market
value of the bank-shares, including an unpaid coupon attached to each,
was 1,063 florins on the day of Beethoven’s death. In the item of cash
is included the £100 received from the London Philharmonic Society,
which, as has been stated, was found intact. The official summary was
set forth as follows:

Cash 1215 fl. (C. M.) 600 fl. (W. W.)
Bank-shares 7441 fl.
Debts receivable (annuity) 144 fl. 33 k.
Jewels and silverware 314 fl. 30 k.
Clothing 37 fl.
Furniture and household
goods 156 fl.
Instruments 78 fl.
Music and manuscripts 480 fl. 30 k.
Books 18 fl. 20 k.
------------------------------
9885 fl. 13 k. 600 fl. (W. W.)

According to a statement by Aloys Fuchs to Jahn the sum realized from
the sale of the musical compositions, autographic and otherwise,
sketch-books, etc., was 1063 florins. In view of the difference
in purchasing power of money in 1827 and 1913 it may be said that
Beethoven’s estate amounted to the equivalent of £3,000, or about
$15,000.

[186] See “Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause,” p. 113; Hiller’s “Aus dem
Tonleben, etc.” p. 177 _et seq._; “Der Sammler,” April 14, 1827;
Seyfried’s “Beethoven-Studien,” appendix, p. 50 _et seq._

[187] The _Miserere_ sung in the court of the Schwarzspanierhaus and
its complement, _Amplius lava me_, were arrangements for male chorus
made by Seyfried of the Equale for Trombones composed by Beethoven in
Linz in 1812 at the request of Glöggl for use on All Souls’ Day. They
may be found in Seyfried’s “Studien.”

INDEX

PAGE
GENERAL INDEX 315

INDEX TO COMPOSITIONS 344
(a) Works for Orchestra Alone 344
(b) Instrumental Solos with Orchestra 345
(c) Choral Works and Pieces for Soli and Chorus 345
(d) Instrumental Duos, Trios, Quartets, etc. 346
(e) Sonatas, etc., for Pianoforte and Other Instruments obbligato 347
(f) For Pianoforte Alone 348
(g) Songs with Pianoforte Accompaniment 349

General Index

~Abaco, Giuseppe dall’~: “Componimento per Musica,” I, 14.

~Abdul Aziz, Sultan of Turkey~: I, 139.

~Abercrombie, General~: Not commemorated in the “Eroica,” II, 25.

“~Abyssian Prince~”: Sobriquet of Bridgetower, II, 11.

~Achâts, Duc des~: III, 101, 232.

~Adamberger, Antonie~: Studies “Egmont” music with B., II, 171.

~Adams, Mrs. Mehetabel~: Provides funds for Thayer’s researches, I, x.

~Addison, John~: Partner of J. B. Cramer: II, 318.

~Addison, Joseph~: Quoted, I, 323.

“~Adelheit von Veltheim~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 37.

~Adler, Guido~: I, 75.

~Adlersburg, Carl, Edler von~: Affidavit against Mälzel, II, 275, 289.

“~Aerndtetanz, Der~”: Opera by Hiller, I, 32.

“~Agnes Bernauer~”: II, 61.

~Albrechtsberger~: Gives instruction to B., I, 155 _et seq._;
“Anweisung zur Composition,” 155, 190;
II, 380.

“~Alceste~”: Opera by Gluck, I, 86.

“~Alchymist, Der~”: Opera by Schuster, I, 31, 107, 108.

~Aldrich, Richard~: Dedication; II, 333.

~Alexander, Czar of Russia~: Dedication of Sonatas for Pianoforte and
Violin, I, 365;
II, 20, 305;
III, 49, 86.

“~Alexander~”: Opera-text (by Schikaneder?), II, 20.

“~Alexander’s Feast~”: Oratorio by Handel, III, 182.

“~Alfred the Great~”: Suggested to B. as subject for an opera, III,
118.

~Allègre, d’~: French Commander, I, 6.

“~Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung~”: Criticisms on B’s. works, I,
305, 306, 307;
taken to task by B., I, 282, 287. (See INDEX TO COMPOSITIONS.)

~Alstädter, Count~: Music-lover in Bonn, I, 38.

~Altmann, W.~: “Ein vergessenes Streichquartett von B.”, I, 349.

“~Amant jaloux, L’~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 31, 107.

~Ambroggio~: III, 77.

~Amenda, Karl F~.: I, 210; his life 233;
plans trip to Italy with B., 234;
death of, 234;
receives Quartet in F from B., 235, 272 _et seq._;
letter from B., 297;
II, 314.

“~Ami de la Maison, L’~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 31, 86.

“~Amitié à l’Épreuve, L’~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 31.

“~Amore artigiano, L’~”: Opera by Gassmann, I, 46.

“~Amore marinaro, L’~”: Opera by Weigl, I, 235.

“~Amor’s Guckkasten~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 36.

“~Amour filial, L’~”: Opera by Gaveaux, II, 37.

“~Analgilda~”: Opera, I, 14.

~Andante and Andantino~: B. asks difference between, II, 246.

~André~: Opera, “Der Antiquitäten-Sammler,” I, 32.

~André, Joseph~: I, 357.

~Anfossi~: Opera, “Il Geloso in Cimento,” I, 32;
“L’Avaro inamorato,” I, 108.

~Anschütz, Actor~: Delivers funeral oration for B., III, 312.

“~Antiquitäten-Sammler, Der~”: Opera by André, I, 32.

~Antoine, d’~: Operas, “Das tartarische Gesetz,” I, 31;
“Das Mädchen im Eichthale” (“Maid of the Oaks”), I, 32;
“Ende gut, Alles gut,” I, 109.

~Anton, Archduke~: Dedication of March in D, II, 160.

~Anton, Prince of Saxony~: III, 96, 141.

~Antwerp~: Beethoven families living in, I, 42.

“~Apotheke, Die~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 31, 36.

“~Apotheosis in the Temple of Jupiter Ammon~”: Drama by Sporchil,
III, 118.

~Appleby, Samuel~: I, 218;
on Rasoumowsky Quartets, II, 75.

~Appony, Count~: Asks B. for quartet, I, 187, 274.

“~Arbore di Diana, L’~”: Opera by Martini, I, 107.

“~Argene, Regina di Granata~”: Opera by Reicha, I, 310.

“~Ariadne auf Naxos~”; Musical drama by Benda, I, 29, 107, 108.

“~Ariodante~”: Opera by Méhul, II, 23.

“~Arlequino fortunato~”: Pantomime, I, 26.

“~Armida~”: Opera by Salieri, I, 86.

~Ärndtetanz.~ See AERNDTETANZ.

~Arneth, von,~ archeologist: II, 171.

~Arnim, Bettina von (Brentano)~: I, 197;
said to have been in love with B., 318;
II, her association with B. and Goethe, 178 _et seq._;
controversy over her letters, 179 _et seq._;
letters to Goethe, 180, 190;
letter to Pückler-Muskau, 180;
“Ilius Pamphilius,” 184;
makes B’s acquaintance, 185;
letter from B., 186, 190;
her admiration reported to B. by Goethe, 198;
with her husband at Teplitz, 222, 223;
describes arrival of B. and Goethe, 226, 282.

~Arnold, Samuel J.~: II, 310.

~Arrangements~: B’s opinion on, I, 349, 350.

~Artaria and Co.,~ Publishers: I, 202, 203;
charged with unauthorized publication of a quintet, 293
_et seq._, 355;
original purchasers of Heiligenstadt Will, 351;
the Mass in D, III, 65.

~Attwood, Thomas~: II, 12.

~Aubert, F. S. A.~: Opera “Esther,” I, 14.

~Auernhammer, Mme.~: II, 2.

~Auersperg~, Prima donna: I, 172.

~Augarten Concerts~: I, 238; II, 2, 42.

~Austria~: Invaded by Napoleon, I, 149;
court of, not invited to subscribe to the Mass in D, III, 103;
musical culture of the nobility in, I, 166;
dance-music of, II, 122.

~Autographs~: B’s indifference to his, I, 141.

“~Avaro inamorato~”: Opera by Anfossi, I, 108.

~Averdonk, Johanna Helena~, Court singer: I, 24;
pupil of Johann van B., 49;
sings at B’s first concert, 59, 67;
~Severin~, author of text of Funeral Cantata, I, 131.

“~Axur~”: Opera by Salieri, I, 109, 163.

~Ayrton, G.~: II, 370.

“~Azalia~”: Opera by Johann Küchler, I, 32.

“~Bacchus~”: Opera-book by Rudolph von
Berger, II, 314.

“~Bacco, Diane ed il Reno~”: Serenata, I, 26.

~Bach, C. P. E.~: I, 13, 35; “Versuch, etc.,” 70, 159;
“The Israelites in the Wilderness,” II, 388.

~Bach, Dr. Johann B.~: II, 377;
III, 24, 30, 115;
advises Schindler to write biography of B., 198;
instructed by B. to make Nephew Karl his heir, 278.

~Bach, Johann Sebastian~: I, 13, 35;
“Well-Tempered Clavichord,” 69, 143;
B. on the publication of his works, 281, 286;
B. subscribes for destitute daughter of, 287;
publication project, 303, 304;
relief for the daughter, 308;
B. offers to publish a composition for her benefit, 308;
II, 355;
“Art of Fugue,” III, 123;
“Not a brook but an ocean,” 203.

~B-a-c-h~: Overtures on, III, 123, 147.

~Baden~: B. gives concert for benefit of sufferers from conflagration,
II, 225.

~Baillot, Pierre~: Visits B., II, 55.

~Barbaja,~ Manager of operas: I, 320;
III, 77;
wants an opera from B., 119.

“~Barbiere di Siviglia, II~”: Opera by Paisiello, I, 108;
opera by Rossini, III, 77.

~Baroni~: Opera “La Moda,” I, 27.

~Bates, Joah~: Bridgetower turns music for, II, 12.

“~Bathmendi~”: Opera by Liechtenstein, I, 304.

~Bathyany, Count~: I, 168.

~Batka, Johann~: I, 342.

~Battle music~: Popularity of, II, 252.

~Bauer, Harold~: I, xviii, 140.

~Bäuerle, Adolph~: II, 359.

“~Baum der Diana, Der~” (_L’Arbore di Diana_): Opera by Martini,
I, 107.

~Baumeister~: Letters to, 218.

~Baumgarten, Major~: III, 42.

~Bavaria, King of~: Dedication of Choral Fantasia, II, 207, 209;
declines to subscribe for Mass in D, III, 99.

~Bechstein~: “Natural History of Birds”;
B. asks for, II, 148.

~Beethoven, ancestry~ of the family in Belgium: I, 42, 43, 44;
William (great-great-grandfather of the composer), 42;
Henry Adelard (great-grandfather), 42;
Louis, Louis Jacob, 42;
Beethoven families in Bonn before the arrival of the composer’s
grandfather (Cornelius, Cornelius (2nd), Michael), 44;
branch of the family in Malines, 44.

~Beethoven Association~ of New York: Promotes publication of this
work, I, xviii, 140.

~Beethoven-Haus Verein~, in Bonn: I, xii, xvii, 52;
custodian of portrait of B’s mother, 51;
B’s quartet of instruments, 277;
of the portrait of Countess Brunswick, 318.

~Beethoven, Johann~, father of the composer: Petitions for appointment
as Court Musician, I, 11;
appointed, 13;
is promised salary, 17;
petitions for salary, 18;
salary increased, 22;
petitions for allowance of grain, 25;
date of birth, 45;
displeases his father by marrying, 47;
education of, 47;
enters Electoral chapel, 48;
teaches music, 48;
addicted to drink, 49;
appearance of, 49;
marries, 49;
lodgings and neighbors in Bonn, 51, 75;
alleged portrait of, 51;
children of, 51;
falsifies the age of the composer, 55;
describes his domestic conditions, 55;
death of his mother, 56;
birth of a daughter, 67;
domestic misfortunes, 72;
length of court service, 73;
status in chapel of Max Franz, 83;
treatment of the composer, 85;
birth of a daughter, 88;
her death, 97;
death of his wife, 93;
petitions for advance on salary, 93;
helped by Franz Ries, 95;
rescued from police by the composer, 104;
part of salary assigned to the composer, 104;
embezzles money of his son, 149;
dissipation, 148;
news of his death received by the composer, 148;
his wife, Maria Magdalena Keverich, widow Laym, 49;
appearance and character of, 50;
the composer’s love for her, 50;
alleged portrait of, 51;
death mourned by the composer, 92;
record of her death, 93.

~Beethoven, Johann Nikolaus~, brother of the composer: Vol. I.
Birth of, 57;
apprenticed to an apothecary, 104, 190, 191, 265;
looks for bank shares after composer’s death, 326;
comes into possession of Heiligenstadt Will, 351;
his name omitted from the document, 352;
defended by the author, 357 _et seq._;
described by Frau Karth, 358.--Vol. II. Demands return of loan
from the composer, 114;
purchases apothecary shop in Linz, 115;
profits from dealing with the French army, 115;
visited by the composer, 230;
the composer interferes with his domestic affairs, 230 _et seq._;
defeats his brother by marrying his housekeeper, 232.--Vol. III.
Buys estate near Gneixendorf, 19;
cuts a ridiculous figure in Vienna, 66;
takes his brother’s compositions as security for loan, 66;
defense of his actions by the author, 68;
seeks reconciliation with his brother, and offers home in
Gneixendorf, 69;
letter, 72;
charged with dishonest conduct by his brother, 111, 112;
his wife’s misconduct, 132, 134;
completes transaction with Schott and Sons for his brother, 180;
B. warns a visitor against him, 182;
offers B. a home in the country, 237;
condones his wife’s licentiousness, 238;
the cause of B’s hatred of his wife, 238;
takes action against his wife, 239;
persuades B. to go to Gneixendorf, 266;
his wife accused of improper intimacy with her nephew, 269;
date of his wife’s death, 270;
makes Nephew Karl his sole heir, 270;
in constant attendance on B. during his last illness, 276;
wrongly accused by Schindler of inhuman niggardliness, 287.

~Beethoven, Karl Kaspar~, brother of the composer: Vol. I. Birth, 57;
intended for musical profession, 103, 191;
official career of, 265;
composes music, 266;
letters to publishers, 295, 348, 357;
charged with surreptitious sale of B’s works, 350;
the Heiligenstadt Will, 353;
defended from charge of wrongdoing, 357 _et seq._;
appearance of, 358;
Ries’s charge of misconduct, 361.--Vol. II. Accused by Simrock, 13;
marriage of, 65;
end of business relations with the composer, 143;
illness of, 241;
appoints the composer and his widow guardians of his son, 241;
his illness compels B. to postpone his trip to England, 251, 313;
death of, 320, 321;
will of, 320, 321;
appoints Ludwig guardian of his son, 320;
von Breuning warns B. against him, 322;
admonishes widow and brother to mutual forbearance, 321;
his wife, Theresia (Johanna) Reiss, marries, 65;
her infidelity, 65;
inherits her husband’s property, 320;
made guardian under will, 321;
appointed by court, 322;
B. secures her removal as co-guardian, 331;
court grants her permission to see her son, 332;
compelled to share in expense of her son’s education, 368;
efforts to see her son, 372, 393;
her son encouraged to revile her, 396;
seeks to gain possession of her son, 400;
her testimony in court, 406, 407.--Vol. III. Reprehensible
conduct, 67;
B. adopts conciliatory attitude towards, 170, 171. (For further
details of her contest for her son, her efforts to gain
possession of him, care for his education, etc., see
_Guardianship_ and _Karl van Beethoven_, under LUDWIG VAN
BEETHOVEN.)

~Beethoven, Karl~, nephew of the composer: Vol. I, disposes of picture
of Countess Brunswick, 335.--Vol. II. His father declares wish
that mother and uncle be his guardians, 241;
sent to Giannatasio’s institute, 332;
surgical operation on, 341;
receives inheritance from Joseph Hametsch, 353;
instructed in music by Czerny, 374;
placed in care of a priest at Mödling, 392;
encouraged to revile his mother, 396;
dismissed from the priest’s class, 397;
runs away from his uncle, 402;
testimony on court, 407;
returned to Giannatasio’s care, 410.--Vol. III. Returns to his
mother, 1;
studies under private tutor, 4;
runs away from the institute, 33;
B. names him as his heir, 115, 132;
B’s pride in his attainments, 135;
philological student at university, 171;
encouraged in disingenuousness by B., 172;
spends summer with his uncle, 184;
runs away from home, 184;
translates “God Save the King” for B., 209;
date of his death, 230; his waywardness, 250 _et seq._;
B’s appealing letters, 230, 254;
leaves university for Polytechnic Institute, 250, 251;
evil companionship and amusements, 252;
held to strict accountability, 253;
discipline becomes irksome, 255;
upbraids and attacks his uncle, 256;
B’s suspicion of a suicidal purpose, 257;
prepares to kill himself, 258;
shoots himself, 258 _et seq._;
effect of the attempt on B., 260, 261;
reasons for the attempt, 261;
his future discussed by B. and his friends, 262, 263 _et seq._;
B’s fear of police inquiry, 263;
Karl defends his mother, 264;
life at Gneixendorf, 267 _et seq._;
accused of improper intimacy with his aunt, 269;
made sole heir of his uncle Johann’s estate, 270;
slandered in regard to his care of B. in last illness, 273
_et seq._;
preparations for a military career, 277;
quarrels with B. on eve of his departure from Vienna, 278;
made heir by B’s will, 278;
letter to B., 279;
inheritance under B’s formal will, 303. (For further details as to
education, contest for his possession, etc., see foregoing and
sub-title _Guardianship_ under BEETHOVEN, LUDWIG VAN.) His widow
visited by Thayer, I, xi, 192;
possessor of Mähler portrait, II, 16;
asks for money deposited as forfeit by Prince George Galitzin,
III, 230;
her daughter, Hermine, 231.

~Beethoven, Louis (Ludwig) van~, grandfather of the composer: As Court
Musician at Bonn, receives increase of salary, I, 10, 14;
appointed Chapelmaster, 17;
petitions for salary for his son, 18;
demands obedience from his musicians, 21;
Joseph Demmer appointed to his place as Court Musician, 22;
Lucchesi succeeds him as Chapelmaster, 23;
parentage and baptism, 42;
leaves home in Antwerp and becomes church singer in Louvain, 43;
appointed singing-master at St. Peter’s, 43;
becomes Court Musician at Bonn, 43;
marries, 45; his children, 45;
services in Electoral Chapel, 45, 46;
success as opera-singer, 46;
last appearance, 47;
death of, 47;
an inebriate wife, 47;
displeased at son’s marriage, 47, 50;
death of widow, 56;
length of court service, 73;
composer asks for his portrait, 301;
B’s affectionate remembrance of him, III, 184.

~Beethoven, Ludwig van~, the composer:
_Birth of, date and place_, I, xvii, 51, 53;
controversy about house in which he was born, 51, 55, 56;
disputed dates, 53;
record of baptism, 53;
his mistaken belief, I, 54;
II, 177;
age of, falsified by his father, 55;
reputed son of the King of Prussia, III, 214, 243.
_Annuity and Shares of Bank Stock_: Annuity granted by noble
friends, I, 298, 299;
II, 137 _et seq._;
disappointed by subscribers, 170;
Kinsky fails to meet obligation, 172;
B. collects from Kinsky at Teplitz, 205;
reduction by depreciation of currency, 211 _et seq._;
payments by Archduke Rudolph, 217, 219;
B. collects from Kinsky’s heirs, 222;
non-payment by Kinsky and Lobkowitz, 242 _et seq._;
Kinsky and Rudolph agree to pay in notes of redemption, 242;
B. blames Rudolph for getting him into the contract, 250, 266;
controversy with Kinsky’s heirs, 259, 288, 289;
settlement, 306;
sums received by B. from the subscribers till his death, 306;
honorable conduct of Kinsky and Lobkowitz, and B’s aspersions on
their character, 308;
B. seeks advice as to his right to leave Austria under the
contract, 366;
last collection of the annuity, III, 295;
bank stock owned by B. at time of death, I, 326;
II, 379;
B. objects to its use for his benefit, III, 114, 290;
discovered after his death, 309.
_Character, traits of, and illustrative acts_: Vol. I, 83, 179;
fondness for punning, 183;
disposition as teacher, 120, 121, 201, 314;
forgets his riding-horse, 200, 221;
relations with musicians in Vienna, 240, 241;
study of his character, 245 _et seq._;
exaggerations of biographers, 245;
extremes in his moral nature and temperament, 246;
consequences of defective education, 246;
ignorance of the value of money, 247;
lack of independence in judgment, 247;
high ideals, 247;
pride, 248;
sometime ungenerous treatment of friends, 248, 298;
wish to be relieved of financial cares, 249;
attitude towards transcriptions, 250;
towards criticism, 250;
susceptibility to flattery, 251;
love of nature, 251;
attractive to young people, 251;
indifference to games of chance, 252;
love of poetry, 254; his letter-writing, 255;
manner of composing, 258 _et seq._;
carelessness about dates, 281, 331, 344;
recommends virtue to his brothers, 353;
may have used his brothers as screen, 363.
Vol. II. Displeased because not placed at prince’s table, 32;
suspicious nature, 62, 63;
carelessness about dates, 66;
pride leads him to leave Prince Lichnowsky in anger, 68, 69;
takes umbrage at being asked to play for French officers, 68, 69;
Dr. Bertolini on his dilatoriness and lack of etiquette, 80;
protests against holding improper relations with married
women, 85;
his opinion of his predecessors, 89;
violence of temper, throws a dish of food in a waiter’s face, 91;
feelings toward his relations, 91;
indifference to his own manuscripts, 92;
uncouth and awkward, 92;
ignorance of monetary matters, 92;
peculiarities described by Seyfried, 93 _et seq._;
dislike of being disturbed at work, 93;
fondness for punning, 95;
his handwriting, 95;
denounces his friends as “princely rabble,” 105, 127;
hatred of French, 117;
longing for opera-texts, 118;
disingenuous treatment of friends, 123;
hypochondria, 126;
orchestra refuses to play under him, 128;
violent gesticulations when conducting, 128;
his suspicious nature, 130;
withholds help from Ries, 140;
affectionate concern for Breuning, 155;
domestic tribulations, 155;
love of poetry, 147;
influences which created his moods, 163 _et seq._;
normally cheerful, 163;
a new infatuation makes him attentive to dress, 173;
his only animal pet, 174;
refuses to accept commission on sale of a pianoforte, 174;
conviviality, 175;
“electrical by nature,” 182, 189;
how music came to him, 188;
love of nature, 193;
Goethe’s description of him, 224;
self-esteem, 226;
finds fault with his friends, 237;
longing for domesticity, 240;
unthrifty habits, 244;
rails at Archduke Rudolph for getting him an annuity, 250;
whimsical designations for his friends, 280;
absent-mindedness, 287;
Weissenbach’s description of him, 294;
condemns popular virtuosi, 298;
his puns, 214, 286;
aspersions on the character of Princes Kinsky and Lobkowitz, 307;
manner of composing, 316;
allows himself to ignore rules of composition, 326;
rails at the Emperor of Austria, 344;
restive under restraint, 360;
desire to be truthfully described, 361;
favors German terminology, 364;
some of his moral reflections, 365;
lack of decision, 379;
admiration for English system of government, 381;
contempt for Viennese, 381;
queries about housekeeping, 387;
unfitness to be guardian of his nephew, 392;
blames Archduke for his financial troubles, 396;
takes pay for an oratorio which he does not compose, 398;
explains that he is not of noble birth, 404;
his contempt for the plebs, 409.

Vol. III. Domestic matters recorded in an almanac, 14;
neglects food in frenzy of composition, 15;
forgets to eat at a restaurant, 17;
dealings with publishers, 39, 44, 51 _et seq._; 62, 65 (see
“MASS IN D” and “SYMPHONY IN D MINOR” in Index of Compositions);
arrested as a tramp, 42;
his puns, 63;
attitude toward Archduke Rudolph, 70;
compares Goethe and Klopstock, 75;
his views on progress in music, 76;
an unruly patient, 85;
dilatoriness in delivery of Mass in D, 94 _et seq._;
nicknames for Schindler, 106;
manner of composing, 126;
indifference to dress, 126;
accuses Schindler of being an evil character, 133;
uses house-shutters for memoranda, 133;
rails against his brother’s wife and daughter, 134;
contradictory conduct concerning titles of honor, 163;
drives his friends away from him after the first performance of
the Ninth Symphony, 167;
leaves country lodging because people are inquisitive, 176;
abuses his landlord, 177;
rebukes publisher for complaining that he had not received a work
which he had bought, 180;
attempts a joke at Haslinger’s expense, 190;
enraged by a copyist, 191;
denounces one publisher to another, 191;
a poor arithmetician, 194, 277;
his drinking habits, 195 _et seq._;
jests on the name Holz, 196;
forgets that he has paid a bill, 211;
loud voice and laugh, 213;
reluctance to play in private, 213;
disagreeable manners, 214;
his publisher a “hell-hound,” 216;
asks for Luther’s Bible, 219;
accepts money for a Requiem which he does not compose, 220;
proud of a medal sent by the King of France, 230;
ignores promise to dedicate the Ninth Symphony to Ries, 231;
sells ring sent by the King of Prussia because it was not a
diamond, 233;
hatred of his sister-in-law because of her lewdness, 238;
looked upon by a law-clerk as an imbecile, 241;
treated as a menial by a stranger, 241;
refuses to dine with his brother’s family, 243;
gesticulations while composing frighten an ox-team, 243;
welcomes royal distinctions, 244;
prone to believe evil of everybody, 249;
becomes apprehensive of death, 253;
drinking habits, 275;
charges Schindler with pilfering a petty sum of money, 281;
wants to read a full report of a speech by Channing, 283;
remarks while undergoing a surgical operation, 276;
ungracious reception of his physician’s ministration, 283;
confident that his last compositions will eventually be
recognized, 300;
“Plaudite, amici, comœdia finita est,” 304 _et seq._

_Compositions_ (INDEX OF COMPOSITIONS).

_Concert appearances as player or conductor_:
First public appearance, I, 59;
first appearance as virtuoso, 184, 185;
plays at Romberg’s concert, 199;
at Schuppanzigh’s, 191, 200, 214;
in Prague, 217;
at Burgtheater, 266;
at Punto’s concert, 267, 282;
asks use of Court Theatre, II, 99;
his conducting, 117, 127, 128;
Spohr’s account of his manner, II, 257;
Franz Wild’s description, II, 268; III, 14;
the concert of 1808, II, 127;
failure of charity concert in 1809, II, 149, 172, 215;
benefit of sufferers by fire at Baden, 225;
concerts of 1813, 248, 259;
benefit of wounded soldiers, 257;
repetition, 261;
constitution of his orchestra, 268, 269;
concerts of 1814 299, 300, 327, 388;
proposed concert in 1819, III, 22;
opening of Josephstadt Theatre, 81;
breaks down conducting “Fidelio,” 83;
concerts of 1824, 176.

_Conversation Books_:
I, xi, 229, 241, 252, 319, 320;
preserved in the Royal Library in Berlin, 377;
given to Schindler, III. 11;
their number and kind, 11;
Thayer’s labor upon them, 12, 87, 89;
alterations by Schindler, III, 273, 281.

_Deafness_:
Origin of, I, 218, 245, 261, 298;
B’s strange account, 300; III, 210;
desire to conceal it, I, 300;
phenomena, 300;
B’s reflections in the Heiligenstadt Will, 352;
Ries’s account, 352;
Seyfried’s account, II, 95, 96;
B. Hides from the noise of bombardment, 145;
Mälzel makes ear-trumpets, 233;
III, Dr. Smetana prescribes for the malady, 85;
cure attempted by Pater Weiss, II, 96; III, 85;
unaffected by dissonance, III, 202.

_Education and Training_:
I, 57 _et seq._;
lessons from his father, 58;
weeping as child at the pianoforte, 58;
studies at Latin School, 59;
deficiency of general education, 60;
knowledge of French and Latin, 60, 65;
lessons from Van den Eeden, 61, 62, 67 _et seq._;
studies under Tobias Pfeiffer, 62, 63;
lessons on violin and viola at Bonn, 64;
organ playing with Friar Willibald, 64;
first efforts at composition, 65;
doubtful story of private studies in Latin, 65;
counterpoint and composition from Neefe, 67 _et seq._;
study of Bach, 70;
cembalist in Electoral Chapel, 72, 85;
violin lessons from Franz Ries, 85;
violin lessons from Krumpholz, 92;
lack of skill on violin, 92;
training in orchestra, 109;
shows cantata to Haydn, 116;
proposed as pupil of Haydn, 123;
extent of his obligations to Max Franz, Elector, 124;
his appreciation of Neefe as teacher, 124;
lessons from Haydn, 150 _et seq._;
his disparagement of Haydn as teacher, 152, 158;
rupture with Haydn, 155, 189;
lessons from Schenk, 152 _et seq._;
Fux’s “Gradus,” 153;
lessons from Salieri, 154;
from Albrechtsberger, 155, 156 _et seq._;
violin instruction from Schuppanzigh, 156;
Seyfried’s “Studien, etc.,” 159;
Fux, 159;
Türk, 159;
C. P. E. Bach, 159;
Kirnberger, 159;
Salieri, 160;
refuses to attend lectures on Kant, 182;
Plato’s supposed influence, 213, 214;
effect on his character of defective training, 246;
imperfections in letters, 255;
studies made for Archduke Rudolph, II, 147, 150, 151;
self-improvement by reading, 166.

_Guardianship of his Nephew_: Karl Kaspar van Beethoven declares
his wish that his brother and widow be joint guardians of his
son Karl, II, 241;
B. appointed guardian, 320;
the widow appointed co-guardian, 321;
court appointment, 320;
B. has himself made sole guardian, 321;
takes his ward to live with him, 341 _et seq._;
asks Kanka to collect inheritance for the lad, 353;
defective training of Karl, 361;
widow compelled to bear a share in the expense of education,
368, 362 _et seq._;
widow tries to get possession of her son, 400 _et seq._;
not being of noble birth B. is referred to plebeian court,
401, 404;
testimony before the court of the nobility, 403 _et seq._

--Vol. III. Widow renews petition to have her son sent to Imperial
Konviktschule, 2;
B. suspended from the guardianship, 2;
plans to send Nephew to Landshut University, 4, 5;
Tuscher appointed guardian, 5;
B. appeals to Archduke Rudolph for a passport to Landshut, 6;
the plan frustrated, 6;
Giannatasio refuses to readmit Karl, 6;
he is sent to Blöchlinger’s Institute, 7;
Tuscher surrenders guardianship, and B. desires to resume it, 7;
is refused, 8;
the mother reappointed, with Nussböck as co-guardian, over B’s
protest, 8, 10;
B. appeals to the Landrecht, 10, 26;
Councillor Peters suggested as co-guardian, 10;
Blöchlinger takes charge of the ward, 14;
facts and merits of the case, 28 _et seq._;
B. makes personal appeal to the court, 29;
Dr. Bach a judicious adviser, 30;
the court appoints B. and Peters co-guardians, 31;
widow makes vain appeal to the Emperor, 31;
cost of B’s victory, 31;
his joy, 32;
Karl runs away from the Institute, 33;
effect of B’s administration of the trust on himself and his
ward, 247 _et seq._;
Dr. Reisser appointed in place of Peters, 251;
Breuning persuades B. to resign and takes his place, 264;
Hotschevar becomes guardian after the death of B. and
Breuning, 292.

_Illness, death and burial_: I, 123, 198, 201, 281, 298, 300,
302.--II, 27, 116, 123, 158, 190, 199, 202, 223, 227, 246,
366, 367, 378, 395.--III, 39, 70, 71, 72, 129, 133, 170, 199,
207, 219, 240, 241, 271 _et seq._;
medical attendance summoned, 273;
surgical operations, 276, 283, 294, 296;
frozen punch prescribed, 286;
sweat baths, 287;
cheering news from old friends, 288;
B. asks aid from the London Philharmonic Society, 289, 290;
the Society votes gift of 100 pounds, 290;
visitors at bedside of sick man, 280, 286, 289, 294, 295;
B. abandons hope, 296;
gifts of wines and delicacies, 287 _et seq._;
Hummel at the death-bed, 301;
signing the will, 303 _et seq._;
“Plaudite, amici, comœdia finita est,” 304 _et seq._;
B. receives extreme unction, 305;
the death-struggle, 307;
death caused by cirrhosis of the liver, 308;
revelations of the autopsy, 309, 310;
property left by B., 310;
funeral, 312;
performances of masses for the dead by Mozart and Cherubini, 312;
pall and torch-bearers, 312;
burial at Währing, 312;
exhumation of the body and reburial, 312.

_Improvisation_: B’s skill at an early age, I, 63;
discomfits a singer by his harmonization, 87, 119, 152, 182, 188;
Czerny’s account, 196;
at the Singakademie in Berlin, 197, 217;
on “Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman,” 217, 266.--Vol. II, 15;
on theme from a quartet by Pleyel, 44, 90, 375; III, 208.

_Letters_: To Amenda, I, 297;
Arnim, Bettina von, II, 190, 196;
Artaria and Co., III, 65;
Dr. Bach, III, 115, 278;
Baumeister, II, 218;
Beethoven, Johann van, I, 192, 352; III, 69, 72, 134;
Beethoven, Karl Kaspar van, I, 352;
Beethoven, Karl van, III, 254;
Dr. Bertolini, II, 87;
Bernard, II, 398; III, 171;
Beyer, II, 259;
Bigot, II, 84;
Birchall, II, 319, 325, 336, 346, 350;
Brauchle, II, 317;
Breitkopf and Härtel, I, 286, 294, 349, 368, 369; II, 66, 67, 136,
142, 148, 192, 198, 200, 204, 206, 214, 226;
Brentano, III, 46, 47;
Breuning, Leonore von, I, 177, 179;
Breuning, Stephan von, II, 33;
Broadwood, Thomas, II, 390;
Brunswick, Count, II, 105, 202, 219, 266;
Brunswick, Countess Therese, II, 203;
Cherubini, III, 100;
Collin, von, II, 149;
Czerny, Carl, I, 316; II, 338, 374;
Erdödy, Countess, II, 144;
Ertmann, Baroness, II, 365;
Esterhazy, Prince, II, 107;
Frank, Mme. de, I, 283;
Giannatasio del Rio, II, 332, 349;
Gleichenstein, Count, II, 114, 140, 141, 155, 174, 175;
Goethe, II, 197; III, 98;
Haslinger, III, 44;
Hoffmeister and Kühnel, I, 271, 281, 286, 299, 366, 370; II, 16;
Holz, III, 216;
Hummel, I, 240; II, 267;
Kanka, II, 353;
King of England, III, 113;
Kinsky, Princess, II, 243;
Könneritz, von, III, 97;
Kotzebue, II, 213;
Kuhlau, III, 204;
Lichnowsky, Count Moritz, II, 262; III, 158;
London Musicians, II, 274;
Macco, Alexander, II, 19;
Mähler, II, 16;
Malfatti, Therese, II, 176;
Matthisson, I, 202;
Moscheles, III, 291;
Mosel, von, II, 386;
Neate, Charles, II, 339, 352, 367;
Oppersdorff, Count, II, 122;
Peters, Councillor, II, 354;
Peters, C. F., III, 58, 60, 61, 64;
Ries, Ferdinand, II, 27, 28, 29, 324, 333, 338, 340, 371, 395,
412, 413; III, 111, 128;
Rudolph, Archduke, II, 199, 225, 235, 250, 266, 286;
III, 1, 9, 19, 20, 34, 91, 94;
Schaden, Dr., I, 92;
Schenck, 154;
Schindler, III, 102, 133, 158, 286, 295;
Schlesinger, III, 54;
Schott and Sons, III, 296, 297;
Schreyvogel, II, 304;
Schuppanzigh, III, 158;
Sebald, Amalie, II, 228;
Simrock, I, 183; II, 21;
III, 44, 56;
Smart, Sir George, II, 311, 351;
Smetana, Dr., III, 259;
Stadler, Abbé, III, 235;
Steiner, II, 364;
III, 38;
Streicher, Nanette, II, 394;
Stumpff, III, 289;
Theatre Directors in Vienna, II, 98;
Thomson, George, II, 17, 71, 157, 203, 219, 245, 308;
III, 16;
Tiedge, II, 206;
Treitschke, II, 269, 273, 277, 281, 284;
Tschiska, III, 3;
Varena, II, 246, 247, 249;
Wegeler, F. G., I, 177, 179;
Zelter, III, 18;
Zmeskall, I, 231, 355;
II, 88, 144, 155, 175, 208, 217, 245, 247, 248, 262, 271, 330,
349, 351;
III, 288.

_Lodgings_ (in Vienna): Alsergasse, with Prince Lichnowsky, I,
148, 269;
Bartenstein House, II, 271, 286;
Gärtnerstrasse, II, 362, 367, 368;
Giorgi, II, 368;
Hamberger House, I, 355;
Johannesgasse, III, 184;
Josefstädter Glacis, III, 21;
Kothgasse, III, 97;
Kreuzgasse (Ogylisches Haus), I, 269;
Krügergasse, III, 144;
Pasqualati’s House, on the Mölkerbastei, II, 31, 44, 123,
196, 219;
Petersplatz, I, 256;
II, 12;
Rothes Haus, II, 271, 286;
Sailerstätte, II, 315, 361;
Schwarzspanierhaus, III, 212, 273, 311;
in the Theater-an-der-Wien, II, 12, 23, 35, 44;
Tiefen Graben, I, 269, 288;
Ungarstrasse, III, 140, 170;
Walfischgasse, II, 145, 155. (In the country): Baden, II, 13,
102, 106, 107, 145, 244, 249, 251, 315;
III, 39, 70, 71, 133, 134, 137, 177, 200;
Döbling, II, 14, 31;
Gneixendorf, III, 237, 238, 239, 244, 267, 271;
Heiligenstadt, I, 349, 351;
II, 107, 110, 119, 120. 369;
Hetzendorf, I, 288, 289;
II, 45, 47, 367;
III, 95, 122, 129;
Landstrasse, III, 36, 39, 73;
Mödling, II, 380, 396;
III, 6, 14, 17, 35, 48;
Nussdorf, II, 369;
Oberdöbling, III, 69, 73;
Penzing, III, 176;
Unterdöbling, I, 269;
III, 39, 47.

_London Philharmonic Society_: Neate buys overtures for, II, 333;
the Society’s disappointment, 334;
its membership roll, 334;
B. offers to write new works for, 352, 367;
invites B. to visit London, 370, 378, 379, 380, 395, 413;
III, Hogarth’s history of, 110;
the Society and the Ninth Symphony, 110 _et seq._;
149, 177, 207, 209, 230, 232 _et seq._;
again invites B. to visit London, 186;
appealed to by B. for aid, 289;
100 pounds voted for B’s relief, 290 _et seq._;
gift reclaimed after B’s death, but released, 293, 294;
part of the sum applied to funeral expenses, 302.

_Love Affairs, Marriage Projects, B’s relations with Women_:
(see also “Character,” etc.), I, xvi, xxi, 120;
susceptibility to women’s charms, I, 121 _et seq._, 235, 317
_et seq._, 334;
encounter with a prince’s mistress, II, 33;
passion no influence in “Fidelio,” II, 166;
the “Immortal Beloved,” I, xxi, 281, 292, 326, 328 _et seq._;
II, 66, 105, 106, 222, 343, 336 _et seq._, 342 (see writings in
controversy under “Grove,” “La Mara,” “Storck,” “Prelinger,”
“Chantonoine,” “Rolland,” “Schindler,” “Nohl,” “Kalischer,”
“Frimmel,” “Volbach,” “Thomas-San-Galli,” “Hale,” “Tenger”);
Countess Therese Brunswick, I, 326;
relations interviewed, 340;
memoirs of, 344;
Magdalena Willmann, I, 242, 292, 337;
Therese Malfatti, I, 336;
II, 86, 106, 239;
Amalie Sebald, I, 337;
II, 206, 228, 239;
Giulietta Guicciardi, I, 343, 344, 292;
Madame Bigot, II, 84;
Marie Koschak, I, 318;
II, 383;
Bettina von Arnim, II, 366;
Fanny Giannatasio, II, 362;
an alleged “Autumnal love,” II, 383;
B’s contemplation of marriage, I, xvi;
offers hand to Magdalena Willmann, I, 242;
his celibacy, 242, 245, 326;
alleged proposal to Therese Malfatti, II, 178;
effect of her rejection of him, 193, 141, 142, 200, 239, 240;
a confession of disappointed love, 342;
reputed proposal to Cibbini, III, 205, 207.

_Opera Projects_ (see “FIDELIO,” in Index of Compositions): At
work on an opera when he became deaf, I, 263;
his constant longing for a text, II, 118, 202;
applies to Kotzebue for a book, II, 213;
licentious plots repugnant to him, III, 201;
subjects considered: “Macbeth” by Collin, II, 119, 151, 153;
“Bradamante” by Collin, II, 119;
intended collaboration with Varnhagen von Ense, II, 204;
“Alexander” by Schikaneder(?), II, 19, 20;
Grillparzer’s “Melusine,” III, 118 _et seq._;
135, 220;
Körner’s “Return of Ulysses,” II, 237;
Rudolph von Berger’s “Bacchus,” II, 314, 328;
“Romulus and Remus,” 304, 381;
“Macbeth” (not by Collin), III, 117;
“Romeo and Juliet,” 117;
Schiller’s “Fiesco,” 117;
Voltaire’s tragedies, III, 117;
Grillparzer’s “Dragomira,” III, 118, 120, 122.

_Orchestra and Organ_, B’s experience with: Lessons on violin and
viola from Rovantini, I, 64;
from Ries, 99;
from Schuppanzigh, 156;
training in orchestra, 109, 111;
Schindler in error, 239;
studies organ-playing with Van den Eeden, I, 61, 64; with
Willibald Koch and Zenser, 64;
assumes Neefe’s duties as organist, 69;
assistant to Neefe, 71;
appointed assistant organist in the Electoral Chapel, 74;
recommended for Court Organistship, 83, 105;
his playing, 110.

_Personal Appearance and Portraits_: I,76, 146, 147;
“Ugly and half crazy,” 243;
described by Baillot, II, 55;
described by Weissenbach, II, 294;
described by Julius Benedict, III, 139, 125.--Dress, I, 147, 322;
a new wardrobe for a new infatuation, II, 173;
changes new coat for old one for dinner, II, 186;
negligent appearance, 88, 287.--Portraits: Silhouette by
Neesen, I, 122;
paintings by Mähler, II, 15, 16;
Frimmel’s discussion of B’s portraits, II, 15;
miniature by Hornemann, II, 33;
Klein’s mask and Danhauser’s bust, II, 221;
Latronne’s crayon drawing engraved by Höfel, II, 287;
painting by Heckel, II, 338;
painting by August von Klöber, II, 399;
lithograph by Dürck, III, 42;
painting by Ferdinand Schimon, III, 21, 41;
portrait by Joseph Stieler, III, 41;
death-mask and drawing by Danhauser, III, 310;
crayon drawing by Decker, imitated by Kriehuber, III, 176.

_Pianoforte Study and Playing_ (see “EDUCATION”): Studies
pianoforte with his father, I, 58;
skill as a boy described by Neefe, 69, 111;
plays for Abbé Sterkel, 114;
duties as pianist to the Elector, 135;
Bach’s fugues, 175;
skill in sight-reading, 180;
his playing compared with Wölffl’s, 215;
described by Tomaschek, 217;
Cherubini’s comments on, 220;
Spohr’s criticism, II, 269;
last public appearance as pianist, 270;
his playing of “The Well-Tempered Clavichord,” II, 355;
advice to Czerny as to instruction of his nephew, II, 374.

_Religion_: Character of B’s religious belief, II, 167 _et seq._;
transcription of Egyptian texts preserved by him, 168;
prayers in his note-books, 169, 249;
an expression of faith, 187;
admonishes his nephew to pray, 407;
views on church music, 414, 415;
attitude towards the Catholic Church, II, 168, III, 91;
the Mass in D, III, 91;
receives the rites for the dying, 305 _et seq._

_Sketchbooks_: Gelinek finds the cause of B’s faults in them,
I, 257;
Nottebohm’s analysis, I, 257 _et seq._, 364;
Kafka’s, I, 205, 206, 209, 210;
Sketches in the British Museum, I, 205, 206, 209, 210, 261;
Petter Collection, I, 274, 290;
II, 118, 129, 151, 209, 296;
Grassnick Collection, I, 275;
II, 160;
Kessler’s, I, 289, 368, 371;
Landsberger’s, II, 73;
Meinert Collection, II, 150, 161;
the “Fidelio” sketches, II, 285;
Mendelssohn Collection, II, 310.

“~Beiden Savoyarden, Die~” (“Les deux petits Savoyards”):
Opera by Dalayrac, I, 109.

~Belderbusch, Kaspar Anton~: Prime Minister of Elector Max
Friedrich I, 14, 15;
assumes paternity of Elector’s illegitimate children, 16;
death of, 33;
secures Neefe’s appointment as Court Organist, 36;
a musical amateur, 37, 118;
Countess Belderbusch, a clavier player, I, 37.

~Belgium~: Beethoven families residing in, in the 17th century, I, 42.

~Bell, Doyne C.~: “Documents, Letters, etc., relating to the Bust of
Ludwig van Beethoven presented to the Philharmonic Society of
London by Fanny Linzbauer,” III, 291.

~Bellamy, Mr.~, English singer: II, 310.

~Belzer, Frau von~, Musical amateur in Bonn: I, 38.

~Benda, George~: His opera “Ariadne auf Naxos,” I, 29, 107, 108;
“Romeo and Juliet,” I, 31, 107, 108;
conductor of Seydler’s company, 30.

~Benedict, Sir Julius~: III, 137;
his visit to B., 138 _et seq._

~Berger, Rudolph von~: His opera-book “Bacchus,” II, 314.

~Berlin~: B. visits, I, 192, 195;
faults public for not applauding, 197;
II, 226;
plays for the Singakademie, I, 197;
the Singakademie and the Mass in D, III, 104, 180.

~Bernadotte, General J. B.~: His association with the “Eroica,”
I, _212 et seq._;
King of Sweden, III, 139.

~Bernard, Joseph Carl~: II, 332, 359, 398;
III, 24, 30, 171;
his “Libussa,” 173;
“Der Sieg des Kreuzes,” 172 _et seq._

“~Bernardsberg, Der.~” (See “ELISE.”)

~Bertinotti, Mme.~: II, 75.

~Bertolini, Dr.~: On B’s susceptibility to women, I, 318;
on the origin of the “Eroica,” II, 25;
on B’s dilatoriness, 76, 87;
“Un lieto brindisi,” II, 280, 305, 322;
rupture of friendship with B., 341, 369.

“~Betulia liberata~”: III, 143.

~Betz~: “Il Riso d’Apolline,” I, 26.

~Beyer, Dr.~: Letter to, II, 259.

~Bigot~, Librarian of Count Rasoumowsky: II, 73, 125, 146;
his wife, Marie, II, 84, 146.

~Bihler~, J. N.: III, 156.

~Biographers of B.~: Early, III, 197 _et seq._

“~Biographische Notizen.~” (See “WEGELER, F. G.” and
“RIES, FERDINAND.”)

~Birchall, Robert,~ English publisher: II, 319, 324, 325;
difficulty in getting a receipt from B., 355, _et seq._,
345, 350, 346, 359;
death of, 351;
and the overtures bought by the Philharmonic Society, 337.

~Birkenstock, Joseph Melchior~: II, 178;
Antonie, II, 179.

~Blahetka, Leopoldine~: III, 50, 138, 157.

~Bland, Mrs.~, English singer: II, 310.

“~Blendwerk, Das~” (“La fausse Magie”): Opera by Grétry, I, 107.

~Blöchlinger, Joseph Karl~: III, 7, 23. (See _Guardianship_ under
“BEETHOVEN, LUDWIG VAN,” and “BEETHOVEN, KARL.”)

~Boer, S. M. de~: Visits B., III, 203.

~Bohemian Nobility~: Musical culture of the, I, 168.

~Böhm~, Violinist: Plays the Quartet Op. 127, III, 192, 193;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Böhm’s Theatrical Company~: I, 86.

~Bolla, Signora~: B. plays at her concert, I, 191.

~Bonaparte, Jerome~: I, 190; II, 122;
invites B. to his court, 124, 135 _et seq._

~Bonaparte, Louis~, King of Holland: II, 245, 247.

~Bonaparte, Napoleon~: Threatens invasion of Vienna, I, 199, 200;
the “Eroica,” 213; II, 24;
B’s remark: “I would conquer him!” 117;
neglects opportunity to hear the “Eroica,” 149;
marches on Moscow, 221;
holds court at Dresden, 221;
effect of his downfall, 295;
and Cherubini, III, 206.

~Bonn, City of~: Festival in 1838, I, xvii;
selected as Electoral residence, 3;
besieged by Marlborough, 6;
restored to archbishopric of Cologne, 6;
improved by Elector Clemens August, 7;
the Comedy House, 30;
professional and amateur musicians in B’s time, 31;
appearance of the city, 38 _et seq._;
Beethovens in before the arrival of the composer’s grandfather, 44;
music in Max Franz’s reign, 88;
theatrical companies, 112;
B’s friends, 117, 125, 126;
B. leaves the city forever, 125;
B’s compositions in, 129 _et seq._;
Beethoven Festival of 1845, II, 177.

~Boosey~, Music publisher in London: III, 111, 128;
makes contract with B. through Ries, 128.

~Born, Baroness~: III, 42.

~Boston Handel~ and ~Haydn Society~: Commissions B. to write
an oratorio, III, 87.

~Botticelli~, Singer: III, 169.

~Bouilly, J. N.~: His opera-texts, II, 36.

~Bowater, Mrs.~: I, 134, 145;
III, 40.

“~Bradamante~”: Opera-book by Collin, II, 19.

~Brahms, Johannes~: Confirms authenticity of Bonn cantatas, I, 131;
comment on the compositions of royal personages, III, 20.

~Brauchle~: Tutor of Count Erdödy’s children, I, 320;
II, 317.

~Braun, Baron~: I, 168;
invites the Rombergs to give a concert, 199, 244, 290, 348, 350;
engages Ries at B’s solicitation, 360;
engages Cherubini to compose operas, II, 3;
dismisses Schikaneder, 23, 34, 35;
withdraws “Fidelio,” 63;
ends his management of the Theater-an-der-Wien, 78.
--~Baroness~, I, 225, 244;
dedication of the Horn Sonata, 290.

~Braunhofer, Dr.~: Dedication of the “Abendlied,” III, 50, 199;
canon for, 200, 219, 373;
declines call to B., 272, 274.

~Breimann~: II, 125.

~Breitkopf and Härtel~: Acquire publication rights of this
biography, I, xv;
employ Dr. Riemann to revise German edition, xv;
B’s letters to, I, 286, 294, 348, 349, 364, 369;
II, 66, 67, 142, 148, 192, 198, 200, 204, 206;
B. offers them all his works, 67;
attempt to renew association with B., III, 73.

~Brentano, Antonie~: II, 322;
III, 128.

~Brentano, Clemens~: II, 196, 222.

~Brentano, Elizabeth~: (See ARNIM, BETTINA VON)

~Brentano, Franz~: II, 179, 186;
B. borrows money from, III, 39, 45, 46, 47;
loan repaid, 64, 184.

~Brentano, Maximiliane~: II, 179, 180, 221.

~Brentano, Sophie~: II, 179.

~Breuning, Christoph von~: I, 98, 99;
Christoph (son), I, 198, 303.

~Breuning, Eleonore Brigitte von~: Wife of Franz Gerhard Wegeler,
I, 99, 118, 119;
lines on B’s birthday, 122;
inscription in his album, 125, 138, 300;
III, 214, 288.

~Breuning, Emmanuel Joseph von~: I, 98.

~Breuning, Georg Joseph von~: I, 98.

~Breuning, Dr. Gerhard~: Visited by Thayer, I, xi 96, 99, 100, 300;
opinion of B’s brother Karl, II, 322, 362;
description of Johann van B., III, 66;
B’s interest in him as a lad, III, 214;
on B’s last illness, 247;
on the medical treatment of B., 287, 300.

~Breuning, Johann Lorenz von~: I, 98.

~Breuning, Johann Philipp von~: I, 98.

~Breuning, Johann Lorenz (Lenz) von~: I, 99, 119, 198;
reports to Romberg about B., 199;
B’s lines in his album, 201, 202.

~Breuning, Madame von~: I, 99;
selects B. as teacher for her children, 100;
influence over B., 100, 188, 119, 303;
death of, 100;
dedication of the pianoforte arrangement of the Violin Concerto,
II, 134.

~Breuning, Marie von~: III, 213.

~Breuning, Stephen von~: I, 99;
intimacy with B., 119, 191, 198;
returns to Vienna, 288, 301;
B. advises his employment by the Teutonic Order, 303;
his relations with B. in Vienna, 310 _et seq._;
B’s injustice toward him, 311.
--II, becomes clerk in Austrian war department, 14;
quarrels with B., 27 _et seq._;
reconciliation, 32;
receives miniature from B., 33;
poem for the second performance of “Fidelio,” 61;
letter concerning the opera, 57;
B’s concern for his health, 155;
death of his wife, 155;
dedication of the Violin Concerto, 162;
warns B. against his brother Karl, 322.
--III, 24, 197;
intimacy with B resumed, 213;
persuades B. to resign guardianship, 264;
objects to unqualified bequest to Nephew Karl, 279;
finds B’s bank stock and the love-letter, 376.

~Bridgetower, George Augustus Polgreen~, Violinist: I, 186;
his career, II, 8 _et seq._;
his notes on the “Kreutzer Sonata,” 10.

~Bridi, Joseph Anton~: II, 391.

~British Museum~: Sketches in I, 205, 206, 209, 210, 261.

~Broadwood, Thomas~:
Presents pianoforte to B., II, 390 _et seq._; III, 201, 237.

~Browne, Count~: I, 199;
B. calls him his “first Mæcenas,” 222, 244; II, 20.
--~Countess~, I, 200, 209, 227, 244.

~Brühl, Count~: III, 153.

~Brunswick, Count Franz~: I, 322;
the Rasoumowsky quartets, II, 104;
letters from B., 105, 124, 202, 219, 245, 266;
ruined by theatrical management, 154;
dedication of Fantasia Op. 77, 195; III, 24, 170;
offers summer sojourn in Hungary to B., 179.

~Brunswick, Count Géza~: I, 340, 341.

~Brunswick, Countess Marie~: I, 340.

~Brunswick, Countess Therese~: I, xvi, 279;
her relations with B., 317, 322, 335 _et seq._;
sends her portrait to B., 335;
B’s message to her brother, “Kiss your sister Therese,”
II, 105, 161, 173;
dedication of the Sonata Op. 78, 195;
portrait of, 202;
letter to, 203, 239.

~Bryant, William Cullen~: Quoted I, 252.

~Buda-Pesth~: National Museum of, gets B’s Broadwood pianoforte,
II, 392.

“~Buona Figliuola, La~”: Opera by Piccini, I, 25, 32.

~Burbure, Léon~: Supplies information concerning the Belgian
Beethovens, I, 42.

~Bureau d’Arts et Industrie~: Established, II, 35.

~Burney, Dr. Charles~: “Present State, etc.,” quoted, I, 174.

~Cache~, Singer at first performance of “Fidelio”, II, 51.

~Cäcilien-Verein~ of Frankfort: Subscription to the Mass in D, III,
104, 106, 110, 180.

“~Calamità di Cuori, La~”: Opera by Galuppi, I, 26.

~Caldara~: Opera “Gioas, Re di Giuda,” I, 184.

~Campbell, Thomas~: “The Battle of the Baltic,” II, 203.

~Capponi, Marchese~: I, 341.

~Carlyle, Thomas~: II, 360.

~Carpani~:
Italian text for Haydn’s “Creation,” II, 116;
introduces Rossini to B., 360.

~Carriere, Moriz~: Dubious of the genuineness of B’s letters to
Bettina von Arnim, II, 185.

~Cassel~: B. invited to become chapelmaster at, II, 122, 124,
135 _et seq._, 141.

~Cassentini~, Dancer: I, 285.

~Castelli~:
On failure of the Concerto in E-flat, II, 215;
torchbearer and poet at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Castlereagh, Viscount~: II, 291.

~Catalani~: II, 310.

~Catalogue, Classified~, of B’s works: II, 38.

~Catherine II~, Empress of Russia: II, 81.

~Champein~: I, 86.

~Channing~: B. asks for full report of speech on his death-bed,
III, 283.

~Chantavoine, Jean~: I, 211, 228, 337.

~Chappell~, Music publisher in London: II, 413.

~Charles XIV~ (Bernadotte), King of Sweden: III, 130.

~Cherubini, Luigi~:
On B’s playing, I, 220, 324;
engaged to compose operas for Vienna, II, 3, 47;
B’s respect for, 48;
opinion of “Fidelio,” 63, 64, 202;
“Les deux Journées,” II, 3, 36; III, 139;
“Lodoiska,” II, 3;
“Elise,” 3;
“Medea,” 3;
“Faniska,” 110;
asked by B. to urge subscription to Mass on King of France,
III, 100, 126;
on B. and Mozart, 205;
Schlesinger on, 206;
on B’s quartets, 216;
his “Requiem” sung at B’s funeral, 312.

~Cherubini, Madame~: On B’s social conduct, I, 121.

~Chorley, Henry F.~: Receives and publishes B’s letter to Bettina
von Arnim, II, 182, 184, 316.

~Churchill, John~, Earl of Marlborough: I, 6.

~Church Music~: B’s views on, III, 203.

~Cibbini, Antonia~: B’s offer of marriage to, III, 205, 207.

~Cimarosa, Domenico~:
“L’Italiana in Londra,” I, 32;
“Il Matrimonio segreto,” 164.

~Clam-Gallas, Count Christian~: I, 194.

~Clari, Countess Josephine di~: I, 194.

~Clemens August~, Elector of Cologne: I, 1;
his extravagance, 7;
succeeds to the Electorship, 7;
career of, 7;
life in Rome, 8;
Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, 7, 98;
opens strong-box of the Order, 8;
falls ill while dancing and dies, 7, 8;
entry into Bonn, 9;
his music-chapel, 9;
appoints Van den Eeden Court Organist, 10;
increases salary of B’s grandfather, 10;
music in his reign, 14;
his theatre, 30;
appoints B’s grandfather Court Musician, 43.

~Clement, Franz~, Violinist: II, 2;
conductor, 42;
B’s Violin Concerto, 76;
succeeds Häring as conductor in Vienna, 112;
produces “Mount of Olives,” 156, 209, and the Ninth Symphony,
III, 157 _et seq._

~Clementi, Muzio~: I, 33;
encounter between him and B., II, 23, 38, 75;
contract with B. for compositions, 102;
tardy payment of debt, 131, 158;
B. on his pianoforte studies, 375;
B. sends them to Gerhard von Breuning, III, 214.

~Collard, F. W.~, Partner of Clementi: II, 102, 103.

~Collin, von~:
“Coriolan,” II, 101, 102;
“Bradamante,” II, 119;
“Macbeth,” II, 119, 151;
“Jerusalem Delivered,” II, 119, 151;
Letter to, II, 149;
asked to write a drama for Pesth, 88, 201.

~Cologne~:
Electors of in the 18th century, I, 1 _et seq._;
Archbishop Engelbert, 3;
civil income of Electorate, 7.

“~Colonie, Die~” (“L’Isola d’Amore”): Opera by Sacchini, I, 108.

~Complete Editions~ of B’s Works planned: II, 18, 38, 192;
III, 36, 54, 190, 205, 237;
Archduke Rudolph’s Collection, II, 200.

~Congress of Vienna~: II, 288, 289.

~Consecutive Fifths~: B’s dictum on II, 89.

“~Contadina in Corte, La~”: Opera by Sacchini, I, 26.

~Conti~: I, 282; II, 2.

“~Convivo, Il~”: Opera by Cimarosa, I, 107.

“~Corsar aus Liebe~”: Opera by Weigl, I, 268; II, 2.

~Courts of Europe~: Invited to subscribe to the Mass in D,
III, 93 _et seq._

~Court Composers~: Their duties in the 18th century, I, 13.

~Court Theatres of Vienna~: B. asks appointment as composer for,
II, 98.

~Cramer, F.~, Violinist: I, 186; II, 12.

~Cramer, John Baptist~: I, 186;
sketch of, 218, 219;
makes B’s acquaintance, 218;
his admiration for B., 219;
on B’s playing, 210; II, 318;
B’s opinion of him as pianist, 381.

“~Creation, The~,” Haydn’s oratorio: I, 243, 266, 282, 284, 285;
II, 89, 116, 120;
receives the first metronomic marks, 223.

~Cressner, George~, English Ambassador at Bonn: I, 65.

~Cromwell~: I, viii; II, 360.

~Czapka~: Magistrate to whom B. appeals, III, 265.

~Czartoryski, Prince~: I, 271.

~Czernin, Count~: I, 172.

~Czerny, Carl~: I, 85;
anecdote about B. and Gelinek, 152;
on B’s extempore playing, 196;
use of high registers of pianoforte, 223, 236;
pupil of B., 314;
duet playing with Ries, 314;
testimonial from B., 315;
memory of, 315;
rebuked by B. for changing his music, 316;
letters, 316, 322;
on the reception of the “Eroica,” II, 35;
on the Rasoumowsky Quartets, 75;
on B’s playing and teaching, 90;
on B’s character, 91;
on the theme of the _Credo_ in the Mass in C, 107;
on the first performance of the Choral Fantasia, 130, 215, 314;
rebuked by B. for changing his music, 337;
letter, 338;
B’s advice as to instruction of Nephew Karl, 374;
inaccuracies as biographer, 376;
visits B., III, 203;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Czerny, Wenzel~: I, 236.

~Czerwensky~, Oboist: I, 239.

~Dalayrac~: Operas “Nina,” I, 107, 108;
“Les deux petits Savoyards,” 109.

~Danhauser~: Makes bust of B., II, 221;
death-mask, III, 310.

~Dardanelli~, Singer: III, 77, 169.

~Decker~: Makes crayon drawing of B., III, 176.

~Degen~, Aëronaut: III, 62.

~Deiters, Dr. Hermann~, German translator of Thayer’s work:
I, Dedication; 88;
writes conclusion of the biography, xv, 75, 103;
discusses date of a letter to Wegeler, 177;
on the C-sharp minor Sonata, 292;
B’s letters to Bettina von Arnim, II, 197;
B’s conduct towards Simrock, III, 53.

~De la Borde~: Opera “Die Müllerin,” I, 109.

~Deler~ (Teller, Deller?): “Eigensinn und Launen der Liebe,” opera,
I, 31.

~Dembscher~: III, 193;
canon, “Muss es sein?” 224, 244.

~Demmer~: Singer at first performance of “Fidelio,” II, 50, 61;
III, 83.

~Demmer, Joseph~: Petitions for the post of B’s grandfather, I, 22;
appointed, 23.

~Denmark, King of~: Subscribes for the Mass in D, III, 102, 105.

~Desaides~: Opera “Julie,” I, 29, 107;
“Die Reue vor der That,” 32;
his operas in Bonn, 86;
“Les trois Fermiers,” 107.

~Descriptive Music~: B. and, II, 120.

“~Déserteur, Le~”: Opera by Monsigny, I, 31, 46.

~Dessauer, Joseph~: Buys autograph score of “Eroica,” II, 24.

“~Deux Journées, Les~”: Opera by Cherubini, II, 3; III, 139.

~Devenne~: “Battle of Gemappe,” II, 252.

~Deym, Countess Isabelle~: I, 342; II, 105.

~Deym, Countess Josephine~: I, 279, 322, 342; II, 203.

~Diabelli, Anton~: II, 314;
III, negotiations with B. 107;
variations on his waltz, 127 _et seq._;
commissions Sonata for four hands, 183.

~Dickens, Mrs.~, English singer: II, 310.

“~Die beiden Caliphen~”: Opera by Meyerbeer, II, 297.

“~Die Müllerin~”: Opera by De la Borde, I, 109.

~Dietrichstein, Count~: Tries to have B. appointed Imperial
Court Composer, III, 115;
sends B. texts for missal hymns, 116.

~Dittersdorf~: Operas “Doktor und Apotheker,” I, 108, 109;
“Hieronymus Knicker,” 109;
“Das rothe Käppchen,” 109, 139, 176, 183.

~Dobbeler, Abbé Clemens~: Carries Trio Op. 3 to England, I,
134, 145.

~Dobbler’s Dramatic Company~: I, 28.

“~Dr. Murner~”: Opera by Schuster, I, 108.

“~Doktor und Apotheker~”: Opera by Dittersdorf, I, 108, 109.

~Doležalek, Johann Emanuel~: I, 239;
sketch of, 368;
on the first performance of the Choral Fantasia, II, 130;
III, 294.

~Donaldson~, Edinburgh publisher: III, 42.

“~Don Giovanni~”: Opera by Mozart, I, 91, 107, 163, 193;
II, 204; III, 42.

“~Donne sempre Donne, Le~”: Opera by Lucchesi, I, 26.

~Dont, Jacob~: II, 399.

~Dont, Joseph Valentine~: II, 399.

~Donzelli~, Singer: III, 169.

“~Dorfbarbier, Der~”: Opera by Hiller, I, 36.

“~Dorfdeputirten, Die~”: Opera by Schubauer, I, 109.

~Dousmoulin.~ (See TOUCHEMOULIN.)

“~Dragomira~”: Drama by Grillparzer, III, 118, 120, 122.

~Dragonetti, Domenico~:
Makes B’s acquaintance, I, 218;
skill on double-bass, 218; II, 124;
Trio in Fifth Symphony, 126, 256;
recitatives in Ninth Symphony, III, 207.

~Drama, German~: Cultivated in the time of Max Friedrich,
I, 28 _et seq._

~Drechsler~, Chapelmaster: III, 131;
pallbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Dresden~: B’s intended visit to, I, 192.

~Drewer, Ferdinand~, Violinist: I, 23, 24.

~Drieberg, Baron F. J.~: “Les Ruines de Babilone,” II, 202.

~Drosdick, Baroness~: II, 86.

~Duncker, Friedrich~: “Leonore Prohaska,” II, 298.

~Duni~: Opera, “Die Jäger und das Waldmädchen,” I, 29.

~Duport~: Director of the Kärnthnerthor Theatre, and the
Ninth Symphony, III, 157.

~Duport, Pierre~, Violoncellist: I, 195, 205.

~Dürck, F.~: His lithograph of Stieler’s portrait, III, 42.

~Duschek, Madame~: I, 194, 226.

~Düsseldorf~: Electoral archives at, I, 5.

~Dutillier~: Operas, “Nanerina e Pandolfo,” I, 165;
“Trionfo d’Amore,” 165.

~Eberl, Anton~: I, 172; II, 2.

~Ecclesiastical States~ of Germany: Former, I, 1, 15.

~Edwards, F. G.~: His sketch of Bridgetower’s career, II, 11.

~Egyptian Text~: Preserved by B., II, 168.

“~Ehrenpforte, Die~”: Drama by Treitschke, II, 317.

“~Eifersucht auf der Probe~”: Opera by Anfossi, I, 32.

“~Eifersüchtige Liebhaber, Der~” (“L’Amant jaloux”): Opera
by Grétry, I, 31, 107.

“~Eigensinn und Launen der Liebe~”: Opera by Deler (?), I, 31.

“~Einsprüche, Die~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 36.

~Electoral Chapels~: Appointments in, I, 9.

~Electors of Cologne~: I, 1 _et seq._

~Ella, John~: II, 12; III, 32.

~Embel, F. X.~: III, 142.

“~Ende gut, Alles gut~”: Opera by d’Antoine, I, 109.

~Engelbert~, Archbishop of Cologne: I, 3.

~England~: B’s plan to visit, II, 142;
his admiration for the English people and government, III,
36, 76, 181, 303;
court of, not invited to subscribe to Mass in D, 104, 112.
(See “PRINCE REGENT.”)

~English plays~ produced at Max Friedrich’s court: I, 29, 30, 31.

“~Entführung aus dem Serail~”: Opera by Mozart, I, 32, 107, 109.

~Eppinger, Heinrich~, Amateur violinist: I, 235, 274, 306; II, 2.

~Eppinger, Dr. Joseph~: II, 335.

~Erard, Sébastien~: Presents pianoforte to B., II, 21.

~Erdödy, Count~: I, 172;
continued friendship for B., II, 82, 215, 271.

~Erdödy, Countess Marie~: Said by Schindler to have been one
of B’s loves, I, 324;
sketch, II, 82, 124;
dedication of Trios Op. 70, 132;
proposes plan to keep B. in Vienna, 136, 141;
letter of apology from B., 144, 162, 315, 319;
B’s letter of condolence of death of her child, 339;
dedication of Op. 102, 357; III, 21;
dedication, 23.

~Erk and Böhme~: “Deutscher Liederhort,” I, 278.

“~Erlkönig~”: Song by Schubert, I, 230; III, 236.

~Ernst~, Violinist: Purchaser of the Heiligenstadt Will, I, 351;
and B’s last quartets, III, 139.

“~Ernst und Lucinda~” (“Eraste et Lucinde”): Opera by Grétry, I, 31.

~Ertmann, Baroness Dorothea~: Pupil of B., I, 322; II, 2, 83, 215;
B. consoles her grief by playing the pianoforte, 356;
dedication of Sonata Op. 101, 356, 365.

~Esterhazy, Count Franz~: I, 170.

~Esterhazy, Prince Franz Anton~: I, 172;
Princess, I, 172.

~Esterhazy, Count Johann Nepomuk~: I, 170.

~Esterhazy, Prince Nicholas~: I, 169; II, 98;
commissions B. to write a mass, 100;
letters from B., 107;
criticism of the Mass in C, 108, 116.

~Esterhazy, Count Niklas~: II, 98, 225.

~Esterhazy, Prince Paul Anton~: I, 166, 171, 189;
invited to subscribe to the Mass in D, III, 103.

~Esterhazy, Princess~: Dedication of the Marches Op. 45,
I, 351; II, 40, 108.

“~Esther~”: Opera by S. F. A. Auber, I, 14.

“~Euryanthe~”: Opera by Weber, III, 139, 140.

“~Évènements imprévus, Les~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 32.

~Ewer and Co.~: III, 13.

~Eybler, Joseph~: I, 165;
B’s respect for him, 242;
pallbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Facius~, the Brothers: Amateurs in Bonn, I, 38.

~Falsification of B’s age~: I, 55, 70, 71.

“~Falstaff, ossia le Tre Burli~”: Opera by Salieri, I, 227.

“~Faniska~”: Opera by Cherubini, II, 110.

“~Fassbinder, Der~”: Opera by Oudinet, I, 29.

“~Fausse Magie, La~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 107.

“~Faust~,” Goethe’s: II, 119; III, 75, 220.

“~Félix, ou l’Enfant trouvé~”: Opera by Monsigny, I, 32, 109.

~Felsburg, Count Stainer von~: II, 338; III, 156.

“~Fermiers, Les trois~”: Opera by Desaides, I, 107.

~Fidelissimo Papageno~: Nickname for Schindler, III, 102.

“~Fiesco~”: Drama by Schiller, III, 117.

“~Filosofo di Campagna~”: Opera by Galuppi, I, 25.

~Finanz-Patent~, Austrian: Its effect on B’s annuity,
II, 211 _et seq._

“~Finta Giardiniera, La~”: Opera by Paisiello, I, 108.

~Fischer, Cäcilie~: I, xviii, 57, 58.

~Fischer, Gottfried~: I, xvii, 43, 47, 50, 51, 61, 66.

~Fischer Manuscript~: I, xvii, 43, 47, 50, 51, 61, 66.

~Fischer~: Opera, “Swetard’s Zaubergürtel,” II, 49.

~Fodor, Singer~: III, 121.

~Fontaine, Mortier de~: II, 73.

~Forkel, J. N.~: Biography of Bach, I, 303;
“History of Music in Examples,” II, 34.

~Forray, Baron Andreas von~: II, 220.

~Förster, Emanuel Aloys~: I, 172;
influences B’s chamber music, 273;
his son’s lessons from B., II, 31, 125, 315, 380.

~Forti, Singer~: II, 286.

~Fouche, Mary de~: I, 186.

~Fouqué, Baron de la Motte~: II, 330.

“~Four Elements, The~”: Oratorio planned by Kuffner, III, 219.

~Fox, Mrs. Jabez~: Acquires Thayer’s posthumous papers, I, xiv;
her copy of Mähler’s portrait of B., II, 16.

“~Fra due Litiganti~”: Opera by Sarti, I, 86, 109.

~France, King of~: Subscribes for Mass in D and strikes
medal, III, 99, 105, 230.

~Frank, Dr.~: Treats B., I, 300.

~Frank, Joseph~: I, 243.

~Frank, Madame.~ (See GERARDI.)

~Frankfort~: Cäcilien-Verein in, III, 104, 106, 111, 180.

~Franz (Francis)~, Emperor of Austria: I, 214; III, 296.

~Franzensbrunn~: II, 223.

“~Frascatana, La~”: Opera by Paisiello, I, 107.

~Frederick II~, King of Prussia: I, 195;
reputed father of B., III, 214.

~Frederick III~, of Prussia, German Emperor: marries Princess
Victoria of England; a Wedding Song, III, 13.

~Frederick William III~, King of Prussia: I, 194, 195, 205.

“~Freischütz, Der~”: Opera by Weber, III, 121, 135.

~Freudenberg, Karl Gottfried~: Visits B., III, 202.

~Freund, Philip~: Variation, I, 300.

“~Freundschaft auf der Probe~” (“L’Amitié á l’Épreuve”): Opera
by Grétry, I, 131.

~Friedelberg~: I, 199; “Ein grosses, deutsches Volk sind wir,” 200.

~Friedlowsky~, Clarinettist; I, 329.

~Fries, Count Moritz~: I, 172;
dedication of Violin Sonatas, 290;
Quintet Op, 29, 294;
collects funds for Bach’s daughter, 308.

~Frimmel~: “Beethoven Jahrbuch,” I, 255;
“Beethoven’s Wohnungen,” 269;
on the Bagatelles, 362, 337;
on Beethoven’s portraits, II, 15.

~Fritzieri (Fridzeri, Frizer)~: Opera “Die seidenen
Schuhe,” I, 32, 86.

~Fry, William Henry~, American critic: II, 358.

~Fuchs, Aloys~: I, 194, 276;
anecdote of B. and Haydn, 285;
owner of Heiligenstadt Will, 351;
solo singer in Troppau, II, 208, 368.

~Fuchs~: “Battle of Jena” arranged for two flutes, II, 252.

~Fugger, Countess~: Favorite of Elector Joseph Clemens, I, 3.

~Fugues~: B’s opinion on, II, 289.

~Fürstenberg, Cardinal~: I, 3;
his government of the Electorate, 5;
political vicissitudes, 5, 14.

~Fuss, Johann~: Opera “Romulus and Remus,” II, 304.

~Fux, Joseph~: “Gradus ad Parnassum,” I, 158, 159.

~Galitzin, Prince George~: III, 230.

~Galitzin, Prince Nicolas Boris~: III, 73;
dedication, 81;
the last Quartets, 87, 183;
asked to appeal to Czar for subscription, 102;
controversy over payment for the Quartets, 226 _et seq._

~Gallenberg, Count Wenzel Robert~: Marries Countess Guicciardi,
I, 320, 324;
associated with Barbaja, 320;
as a composer, II, 42; III, 130.

~Gallenberg, Count~: Son of Countess Guicciardi, I, 340.

~Galuppi~: Operas “Il Filosofo di Campagna,” I, 25;
“La Calamità di Cuori,” 26;
“Tre Amanti ridicoli,” 27.

~Gänsbacher~: On Vogler’s playing, II, 15;
pallbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Gardiner, William~: “Italy, Her Arts, etc.,” I, 131;
on the Trios Op. 3, 135;
“Sacred Melodies,” III, 40;
offers B. 100 guineas for an overture, 40.

~Garzia, Francesco~: “Schiava finta,” I, 26.

~Gassmann~: Opera “Die Liebe unter den Handwerkern” (“L’Amore
artigiano”), I, 31, 46.

~Gassner~: His projected biography of B., III, 198.

~Gaveaux~: “Léonore, ou l’Amour conjugal,” II, 35, 36;
“L’Amour filial,” 37;
“Le petit Matelot,” 36.

~Gazanello~: Pupil of B’s father, I, 49.

“~Geitzigen in der Falle, Die~”: Opera by Schuster, I, 108.

~Gelinek, Abbé Joseph~: Recommends B. to Schenk, I, 152;
his hatred of B., 152;
Czerny’s anecdote, 152;
on B’s sketchbooks, 257.

“~Gelosie villane, Le~”: Opera by Sarti, I, 32.

“~Geloso in Cimento, II~”: Opera by Anfossi, I, 32.

~Genney, Countess von~: II, 367.

~George IV~, King of England (see PRINCE REGENT): II, 11;
B’s address to, III, 112, 113.

~Gerardi, Christine von~, Amateur singer: I, 243;
marries Joseph Frank, 243, 282;
letter to, 283; II, 3.

~Gesellschaft der bildenden Künstler~: I, 182, 202.

~Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde~: I, 136, 203, 225, 230, 315; II, 15;
commissions B. to write an oratorio, 325, 330, 397; III, 15,
172 _et seq._; 175, 216;
elects B. Hon. Mem., 175, 212.

“~Giafar~”: Opera-book projected for B., II, 205.

~Giannatasio, Cajetan del Rio~: B’s Nephew in his care, 331 _et seq._;
letters, 332, 349;
B. authorizes him to punish his ward, 373, 338, 392, 402, 410;
a wedding hymn, III, 13.

~Giannatasio, Fanny~: On Archduke Rudolph as B’s pupil, II, 80;
her diary, 341, 361, 403; III, 2, 50.

“~Gioas, Re di Giuda~”: Oratorio by Caldara, I, 184.

~Girando, M. F. de~: I, 346.

~Gläser, Franz~: III, 81.

~Gleichenstein, Count Ignaz von~: I, 333;
becomes clerk in the War Department of Austria, II, 14, 89, 104;
letters from B., 114, 132, 140, 155, 174, 175, 136, 138;
dedication of Sonata Op. 69, 141, 162, 305; III, 295.

~Gleimer, Claire von~: III, 84.

~Glöggl, Franz~: B’s visit to Linz, II, 230, 256.

~Gluck~: Operas “Die Pilgrimme von Mekka,” I, 32, 108;
“Alceste,” I, 86;
“Orfeo,” 86;
“Iphigenia in Tauris,” 315; II, 119.

~Gneixendorf~: Johann v. B. buys estate near, III, 19.
(See LODGINGS and JOHANN VAN BEETHOVEN.)

“~God save the King~” (see INDEX TO COMPOSITIONS): II, 252, 310;
Karl translates stanza for B., III, 209.

~Goethe~: B’s admiration for his poetry, I, 254; II, 147.
--Vol. II: “Faust,” 119;
“Egmont,” 153 (see COMPOSITIONS);
“Israel in der Wüste,” 167;
“West-Östliches Divan,” 167;
“Wilhelm Meister,” 176;
letter from Bettina von Arnim, 178;
letter to Bettina, 186, 189;
asks for songs composed by B., 189;
letter from Bettina, 190;
B’s admiration, 194;
letter from B., 197;
letter to B., 197;
at Teplitz, 222 _et seq._;
goes with B. on a pleasure trip, 227;
at Karlsbad, 222, 224;
describes B., 224;
rebuked by B. for his deference to royalty, 224, 226, 227;
the meeting at Teplitz, 226.
--Vol. III. B’s account to Rochlitz of his meeting, 75;
“Faust” music, 75, 220;
asked by B. to get subscription of Grand Duke of Weimar, 98, 104;
his taste in music, 99.

~Gossec~: I, 86.

“~Gott erhalte unsern Kaiser~”: I, 200; III, 84.

~Gottwaldt~, Chamber Music Director at Bonn: II, 11, 12.

“~Graf Armand.~” (See LES DEUX JOURNÉES.)

~Grahame~, Scottish poet: His tribute to B., II, 290.

~Grassalkowitz, Prince~: I, 168.

~Grassnick Sketchbook~: I, 275; II, 160.

~Gratz~: B. sends music for Ursulines, II, 214, 246 _et seq._;
Musik-Verein at, elects B. Hon. Mem., III, 72.

~Graun~: His “Tod Jesu,” II, 89;
B’s judgment on a fugue, 89.

“~Great Mogul~”: Haydn’s designation of B., I, 248.

~Greiner, Michael~, Tenor: III, 81.

~Grétry~: Operas “Silvain,” I, 86;
“L’Amant jaloux,” 31, 107;
“L’Ami de la Maison,” 31, 86;
“L’Amitié à l’Épreuve,” 31;
“Lucille,” 31, 86;
“Mariage des Samnites,” 31;
“Eraste et Lucinde,” 31;
“Zémire et Azor,” 32, 86;
“Les Évènements imprévus,” 32;
“Le Magnifique,” 86;
“L’Amant jaloux,” “La fausse Magie,” 107;
“Richard, Cœur de Lion,” 226, 305.

~Griesinger~: “Biographische Notizen über Joseph Haydn,”
I, 249; III, 73, 76.

~Grillparzer~: I, 270;
on B’s dress, 322; III, 117;
“Dragomira,” 118, 122;
“Ottokar,” 121;
“Melusine,” 118 _et seq._; 135, 220;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312;
writes funeral oration, 312;
mother of the poet, I, 270.

~Grimm~, the brothers: II, 181.

~Grosheim, Dr. G. L.~: I, 292.

~Grossmann, Mme.~: I, 73.

~Grossmann and Helmuth~: I, 35, 36, 63, 69.

“~Grotta di Trofonio, La~”: Opera by Salieri, I, 107.

~Grove, Sir George~: I, x, xii, xiii, xv, 336; II, 122.

~Guatelli~, ~Bey~ and ~Pasha~: I, 140.

~Gudenau, Baron von~: I, 88.

~Guglielmo~: Opera “Robert und Callista,” I, 31, 109.

~Guicciardi, Countess Giulietta~: I, 243, 244;
dedication of the Sonata in C-sharp minor, 292, 322, 370;
relations with B., 319 _et seq._;
marries Count Gallenberg, 320;
pupil of B., 322;
her portrait, 355, 341;
the Rondo in G, 370;
Vol. II: 47, 106.
(See “LOVE AFFAIRS,” under “B., L. v.”)

“~Günther von Schwarzburg~”: Opera by Holzbauer, I, 31, 86.

“~Gute Nachricht~”: Drama by Treitschke, II, 268, 270, 277, 317.

~Gyrowetz~: Respected by B., I, 241;
on the Rasoumowsky Quartets, II, 75;
pallbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Habich~, Dancing-master: I, 133.

~Hagen, J. A. Freiherr von~: I, 29;
“Wir haben Ihn wieder,” 31.

~Hahn, Christine Elizabeth~: Wife of Bürger, II, 141.

~Haitzinger, Singer~: III, 83.

~Hale, Philip~: On the “Immortal Beloved,” I, 346.

~Halm, Anton~, Pianist: II, 326, 388;
arranges Fugue in B-flat, III, 223.

“~Hammerklavier~”: II, 364.

~Hammer-Purgstall~: Book of an oratorio, II, 118;
influence on B., 167.

~Handel~: I, 13;
duel with Matthison, 72, 85;
“Judas Maccabæus,” 202, 205.
--Vol. II. Commemoration of, 12;
“Messiah,” 12, 310, 312;
B’s admiration for, 89;
“Acis and Galatea,” 209, 171;
“Timotheus,” 216;
“Samson,” 359;
“Belshazzar,” 359.
--Vol. III. B. on “Messiah,” 135;
“Alexander’s Feast,” 182;
B’s estimate, 182;
on his trumpets, 208;
“Saul,” 219;
gift of his scores to B., 277, 288, 289, 294, 296.

~Handel and Haydn Society of Boston~: Commissions B. to write
an oratorio, III, 87.

~Hanslick, Dr. Eduard~: Makes known the discovery of the Bonn
cantatas, I, 130;
“Geschichte des Concertwesens in Wien,” 223.

~Hardenburg, von~, Prussian Chancellor: II, 302.

~Häring~, Banker and amateur musician: I, 236; II, 112.

~Harrach, Count~: I, 172.

~Härtel, G. C.~: B. sends a letter of condolence, II, 200.

~Hartl, Joseph~, Director of Court Theatres: II, 127;
resignation, 201.

~Haslinger, Tobias~, Music publisher: II, 279;
“Ideal einer Schlacht,” 279;
Canon on, III, 43, 44, 137, 169;
B. attempts a joke on him, 190;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Hatzfeld, Countess~: I, 16, 37, 139.

~Hatzfeld, Prince~: III, 94.

~Hauschka~: “Gott erhalte unsern Kaiser,” I, 200.

“~Hausfreund, Der~” (“L’Ami de la Maison”): Opera by Grétry, I, 31.

~Hausmann~: Music lover in Berlin, I, xii.

~Häussler’sche Gesellschaft~: Theatre in Bonn, I, 112.

~Haveckas, Ernest~: I, 12.

~Hawthorne~: His note-books, I, 261.

~Haydn, Joseph~:
Vol. I: His duties at Esterhaz, 13;
first visit to Bonn, 110;
at Godesberg, 116;
B. shows him a cantata, 116;
B. proposed as his pupil, 123;
plans to take B. to London, 125;
B’s introduction to, 140;
gives B. lessons, 150 _et seq._;
B’s disparagement of him as a teacher, 152;
rupture between the two, 155, 189;
his imitative music, 171;
“The Seasons,” 171;
his judgment on the Trios Op. 1, 175;
dedication of the Sonata Op. 2, 186;
B. plays at his concert, 188;
writes dances for Ridotto Room, 188;
the Austrian National Hymn, 200;
“Seven Last Words,” 214;
“The Creation,” 243, 266, 284, 285;
Griesinger’s biography, 249;
Koželuch, 271;
on B’s “Prometheus,” 285.
--Vol. II: Said to have been Bridgetower’s teacher, 11;
the Salomon concerts, 12;
comment on Anna Milder, 49;
his settings of Scotch songs, 70;
Marie Bigot, 89;
“The Creation” performed at birthday concert, 116, 126;
“Ritorno di Tobia,” 131;
Scotch songs for Thomson, 219, 416.
--Vol. III: Mass “In tempore belli,” 92;
picture of his birthplace shown to B. on his death-bed, 302.

~Heckermann~, Fanny: III, 81.

“~Heilige Grab, Das~”: Oratorio by Paër, II, 2.

~Heiligenstadt Will~: I, 339, 351 _et seq._; II, 164.

~Heim, Johann, Th.~: II, 8.

“~Heinrich und Lyda~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 31, 36.

~Heller, Ferdinand~: I, 87.

~Hellmesberger, Georg~: Once owner of the portrait of Countess
Brunswick, I, 335.

~Hellmesberger, Joseph~: Completes movement of a Violin
Concerto in C, I, 136.

~Henneberg, J. B.~: Chapelmaster and composer, I, 164; II, 2.

~Hennes~: Sees B. as child weeping at pianoforte, I, 58.

~Hensel, Fanny~: On the overture “Leonore No. I,” II, 59.

~Hensler, Carl Friedrich~: III, 64, 79, 82.

~Herbst~: Horn-player, I, 239.

~Herder~: II, 167, 193.

“~Hermann von Staufen~”: Opera by Vogler, II, 4.

“~Hermann von Unna~”: Opera by Vogler, II, 4.

~Herzog~, Man and Wife, servants of B: II, 156.

~Hess-Diller, Baroness~: I, 340.

~Hesse-Cassel~: Elector of, not invited to subscribe for
the Mass in D, III, 93.

~Hesse-Darmstadt~: Grand Duke of, and the Mass in D, III, 97, 106.

“~Hieronymus Knicker~”: Opera by Dittersdorf, I, 109.

~Hiller, Ferdinand~: Gives Rossini’s account of his meeting
with B., III, 78;
his account of Hummel’s visit to B’s death-bed, 301 _et seq._

~Hiller, J. A.~: Operas “Die Jagd,” I, 32;
“Der Ärndetanz,” 32;
“Dorfbarbier,” 36;
“Wöchentliche Nachrichten,” 35.

~Himmel, F. H.~: Intercourse with B. in Berlin, I, 196.

~Hofdemel, Mme.~: B. refuses to play for her because of a
scandal, I, 254.

~Höfel, Blasius~: Engraves Latronne’s crayon portrait of B., II, 287;
his story of B’s arrest as a tramp, III, 42.

~Hoffmann, E. T. A~: On the C minor Symphony, I, 307; II, 186;
the canon on the name, III, 34.

~Hoffmann, Joachim~: III, 35.

~Hoffmann, Vincenz~: III, 35.

~Hoffmeister, Franz Anton~: I, 271;
letter, 271.
(See HOFFMEISTER AND KÜHNEL.)

~Hoffmeister and Kühnel~: Origin of firm, I, 271;
letters, 281, 286, 294, 366, 370; III, 57;
publish the works of Bach, I, 303.

“~Hofschmied, Der~”: Opera by Philidor, I, 29.

~Hogarth, George~: “The Philharmonic Society of London,” III, 110.

~Hohenlohe, Princess Marie~: II, 392.

~Holland~: Visited by B. as child, I, 66;
B. made Member of the Royal Institute of, II, 147; III, 163.

~Holz, Carl~: I, 269, 276;
and the bank stock, 326.
--Vol. III: Becomes B’s factotum, 194 _et seq._;
B’s jests on his name, 196;
authorized by B. to write his biography, 197;
insinuations against Schindler, 198;
letter from B., 216;
B. on his playing, 216;
seeks to divert B., 237;
reports on conduct of Karl, 253;
early in attendance on B. at last illness, 273;
marries, 281;
collects last annuity payment, 295;
torchbearer at the funeral, 312.

~Holzbauer~: Opera “Günther von Schwarzburg,” I, 31, 86.

~Homer~: Admiration felt for by B., I, 147.

~Hönig~: Singer in “Fidelio,” II, 278.

~Honrath, Jeannette d’~: I, 120, 122; III, 288.

~Horsalka, Johann~: III, 15, 42.

~Hotschevar, Jacob~: I, 351; II, 401, 405;
guardian of B’s nephew, III, 292.

~Hradezky~, Horn-player: I, 239.

~Huber, Franz Xaver~: I, 289; II, 7.

~Hummel, Elizabeth~: On B’s admiration for women, II, 181.

~Hummel, Johann Nepomuk~: Mozart’s pupil, I, 91;
sketch of 240;
letters from B., 240, 274, 267;
his falling-out with B., II, 108 _et seq._;
his wife a sister of Röckel, 142;
in performance of “Wellington’s Victory,” 262;
begins Pf. score of “Fidelio,” 283;
canon for his album, 338; III, 290;
at B’s death-bed, 301;
improvises at concert, 302;
pallbearer at funeral, 312.

~Hungary~: Visited by B. in 1809, II, 154.

~Hüttenbrenner, Anselm~: Visited by Thayer I, x;
report of Salieri’s remarks on “Fidelio,” II, 64, 355;
overture to Schiller’s “Robbers,” 355;
his account of B’s death, III, 300, 306, 307 _et seq._

~Hüttenbrenner, Joseph~: III, 79, 166.

“~Idomeneus~”: Opera by Mozart, II, 101.

~Iken, Dr. Karl~: A programme for the Seventh Symphony, III, 37.

~Imitative Music~: II, 120.

“~Immortal Beloved, The~”: I, xvi.
(See LOVE AFFAIRS, etc.)

“~Improvvisata (L’) o sia la Galanteria disturbata~”: Opera
by Lucchesi, I, 27.

“~Incognito, L’~”: Opera by Sarti, I, 86.

“~Inganno scoperto, L’~”: Opera by Lucchesi, I, 27, 47.

~Instruments~ owned by B.: I, 276.

“~Iphigenia in Tauris~”: Opera by Gluck, I, 315; II, 119.

“~Isola d’Amore, L’~”: Opera by Sacchini, I, 108.

“~Israel in the Wilderness~”: Oratorio by C. P. E. Bach, II. 388.

“~Italiana in Londra, L’~”: Opera by Cimarosa, I, 32.

~Italy~: B. projects journey to, II, 202.

~Jacobs, Jacob~: I, 42.

~Jadin~: “Battle of Austerlitz,” II, 252.

“~Jagd, Die~”: Opera by Hiller, I, 31.

“~Jäger und das Waldmädchen, Der~”: Opera by Duni, I, 29.

~Jahn, Otto~: Visited by Thayer, I, xi, 63, 85;
his account of B’s visit to Mozart, 90, 153, 171, 329;
on Countess Guicciardi’s marriage, 321;
interview with the Countess, 322;
examines love-letter, 328;
his edition of “Fidelio,” II, 45, 285;
note on the compositions sold to Clementi, 104;
his opinion on Schindler as biographer, 376.

~Jeitteles, Alois~: “An die ferne Geliebte,” II, 243.

~Joachim, Joseph~: I, xii.

~Joseph Clemens,~ Elector of Cologne: I, 1, 3 _et seq._;
his favorites, 3;
consecrated by Fénelon, 3, 6;
a unique composer, 4;
his music-chapel, 5;
sides with Louis IV in war, 5;
restored to Electoral dignity, 6;
death of, 7.

~Joseph I~, Emperor of Germany: I, 6.

~Joseph II~, Emperor of Germany: I, 107;
death of, 130;
interest in German opera, 163.

~Josephstadt Theatre~: Opening of, II, 81.

“~Judah~”: Oratorio by Gardiner, III, 40.

“~Judas Maccabæus~”: Oratorio by Handel, I, 202, 205.

“~Julie~”: Opera by Desaides, I, 29, 107.

~Junker, Carl Ludwig~: Describes B’s Pf. playing, I, 114.

~Kafka, J. N.~: His sketchbook, I, 205, 206, 209, 210, 261, 362.

~Kaiser, Fräulein~, Singer: III, 81.

~Kalischer, Dr. A. C.~: I, 235;
his collection of B’s letters, 255, 278, 293;
and the “Immortal Beloved,” 336, 337.

~Kanka~, Councillor: I, 194, 195.

~Kanka, Jeannette~: I, 195.

~Kanka, Dr. Johann~: Effects compromise with Kinsky’s heirs,
II, 288, 353.

~Kanne, Friedrich August~: II, 358; III, 117, 176.

~Kant, Immanuel~: B. refuses to hear lectures on, I, 182;
II, 166, 214, 167; III, 25.

~Karajan, Prof.~: I, 123; II, 305.

~Karl, Duke of Lorraine~, Archduke of Austria: I, 77, 288; II, 12.

~Karlsbad~: B’s visit to, II, 223.

~Karth, Frau~: I, 75, 103, 117, 119;
description of B’s brothers, 358.

~Kastner, Emil~: His estimate of B’s letters, I, 255.

~Kaufmännischer Verein~ of Vienna: Elects B. Hon. Mem., III, 21.

“~Kaufmann von Smyrna, Der~”: Opera by Juste, I, 32.

~Kayser, Joseph~, Instrument maker: I, 10.

~Kees, von~, Court Councillor: I, 166, 170.

~Keglevich, Countess “Babette”~: I, 209, 227, 245;
said to have been one of B’s loves, 318;
dedication to her, 318.

~Keglevich de Busin, Count Karl~: I, 245.

“~Kein Dienst bleibt unbelohnt~”: Opera, I, 108.

~Kerich, Abraham~, ~Helene~ (Mme. von Breuning), and
~Stephen~: I, 98, 99, 101.

~Kessler~: Sketchbook, I, 289, 368, 371.

~Kewerich, Heinrich~, Electoral cook: I, 49;
his widowed daughter marries the father of B., I, 49.

~Kiesewetter, R. G.~: I, 230.

~Kilitzky, Fräulein~: II, 129.

~Kinsky, Prince Ferdinand~: I, 170, 172; II, 113;
subscribes in the Annuity Contract, 139, 146;
his payments, 170, 172, 205, 213, 222;
agrees to pay in notes of redemption, 242;
reduction of obligation by the Finanz-Patent, 212;
B. begins legal proceedings against his heirs, 259, 288;
settlement, 306;
sum paid annually under the contract, 306.

~Kinsky, Princess~: Dedication of Songs Op. 75, II, 195;
letter from B., 243.

~Kinsky, Prince Joseph~: I, 170.

~Kirnberger~: I, 159.

~Klein, Prof.~: Makes mask of B’s face, II, 221; III, 311.

~Klingemann~: His drama “Moses,” II, 297.

~Klober, August von~: Paints B’s portrait, II, 399.

~Klopstock~: B’s admiration for his poetry, I, 254; III, 75.

~Klos Theatrical Troupe~: I, 105.

~Kneisel, Dr. C. M.~: I, 55.

~Kobler Family~: I, 285.

~Koch, Barbara~ (“Babette”): I, 117, 118, 178.

~Koch, Friar Willibald~: Gives organ lessons to B., I, 64.

~Köchel~: Collection of B’s letters, II, 248.

~Koczwara~: “Battle of Prague,” II, 252.

“~König Axur~”: Opera by Salieri, I, 109.

“~König von Venedig~” (“Il Re Teodoro”): Opera by Paisiello, I, 108.

~Könneritz, von~: The Mass in D, III, 96, 97, 130.

~Kopfermann, Albert~: I, 280.

~Körner, Theodor~: On failure of the E-flat Concerto, II, 215.

~Koschak, Marie~: I, 318.

~Köster-Schlegel~, Singer: III, 85.

~Kotzebue~: Founds “Der Freymüthige,” II, 1;
account of music in Vienna, 1;
“Der Leibkutscher Peters III.” 1;
“Ruinen von Athen,” 161, 201;
B. asks him for opera-book, 213.

~Koželuch, Leopold~: I, 172;
dances for the Ridotto, 188;
on the Trio in C minor, 271;
Haydn, 271;
and Thomson’s songs, II, 70;
B’s “Miserabilis,” 219;
Scotch airs for Thomson, 200.

~Kraft, Anton~: I, 170;
sketch of, 238; II, 8, 41.

~Krasinsky, Rochus~: II, 270.

~Krehbiel, H. E.~: Undertakes English version of Thayer’s
biography, I, viii, xiii;
use of original manuscript, viii;
communications with Thayer and Deiters, viii;
his procedure, xv;
on the C-sharp minor Sonata, 292;
“The Pianoforte and its Music,” 292;
defense of Thayer’s hypothesis concerning the
“Immortal Beloved,” 317;
on the love-letter, 336 _et seq._;
“Music and Manners in the Classical Period,”
II, 11; III, 307;
on the overtures to “Fidelio,” II, 59.

~Kreissle, Heinrich von~: III, 79.

~Krenn, Michael~: III, 241, 267.

~Krenn~, Music Director: II, 369.

~Kretschmer~: “Deutsche Volkslieder,” I, 278.

~Kreutzer, Conradin~: III, 166;
pallbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Kreutzer, Rudolph~: II, 9, 21.

~Kriehuber~: Imitates Decker’s portrait of B., III, 176.

~Krupp~: Court Councillor, on B’s boyhood, I, 61.

~Küchler, Johann~: Opera “A alia,” I, 32.

~Kudlich, Joseph~: Tutor of B’s nephew, III, 4.

~Kuenberg, Countess~: I, 340.

~Kuffner, Christian~: His text of the Choral Fantasia,
II, 129, 133, 369;
plans an oratorio, III, 219.

~Kuhlau, Friedrich~: Visit to B, III, 204.

~Künstler-Pensions-Institut~: I, 211.

~Kurzbeck, Mme.~, Amateur pianist: II, 2.

~Kyd, Major-General Alexander~: Commissions B. to write
a symphony, 344, 345.

~Lablache~, Singer: III, 77, 121, 312.

~Laibach~: Philharmonic Society elect B. Hon. Mem., III, 14.

~Lalande~: III, 77.

~La Mara (Marie Lipsius)~: I, 292, 336;
letter from Thayer on the “Immortal Beloved,” I, 339;
her book, 339;
“Classisches und Romantisches aus der Tonwelt,” 338; II, 203.

~Landsberger~: Sketches, II, 73.

~Landshut University~: III, 4.

~Languider, Karoline~: On B’s love-affairs, I, 341.

~Latilla~: Opera “La Pastorella al Soglio,” I, 26.

~Latronne~: Makes crayon portrait of B., II, 287.

~Laym, Maria Magdalena (or Leym)~: B’s mother.
(See BEETHOVEN, JOHANN VAN.)

~Lebewohl~ and ~Adieu~: Differentiated by B., II, 207.

~Ledermeyer~, Editor in Vienna: II, 359.

~Leipsic~: B’s intended visit to, I, 192, 198.

“~Leipsic Oxen~”: B’s term for critics, I, 282, 304.

~Lentner, Mme.~, Court singer: I, 18, 19.

~Lenz~: Critical catalogue of B’s works, I, 272;
on the Rasoumowsky Quartets, II, 75.

“~Leonora~”: Opera by Paër, II, 35, 37.

“~Leonore Prohaska~”: Drama by Duncker, II, 298.

“~Léonore, ou l’Amour conjugal~”: Opera by Gaveaux, II, 35, 36.

~Leopold I~, Emperor of Germany: I, 5, 6.

~Leopold II~, Emperor of Germany: I, 163, 164.

~Levin, Rahel~: II, 204.

“~Libussa~”: Opera-book by Bernard, III, 173.

~Lichnowsky, Prince Carl~: Takes B. into his lodgings,
I, 148, 168, 170;
Trios Op. 1 first played at his house, 175;
commands servant to give B. precedence over him, 182, 190;
probable visit to Prague with B., 193, 244;
gives B. quartet of instruments, 276, 286;
settles annuity on B., 298, 299, II, 9;
visited by B. in Silesia, 66;
abrupt departure of B., 68, 104, 123, 146;
visited by B. in Silesia, 208;
undisturbed friendship for B., 215;
with B. at Teplitz, 222;
unwillingness to disturb B. when at work, 254;
death of, 271.

~Lichnowsky, Princess Christine~: II, 124, 271.

~Lichnowsky, Countess Henrietta~: I, 244;
dedication, 370.

~Lichnowsky, Princess Maria Christine~: I, 170;
dedication to, 290.

~Lichnowsky, Count Moritz~: I, 213, 235;
dedication to, 369;
story of Bonaparte and the “Eroica,” II, 24;
letters from B., 262, 290;
marriage with an opera-singer, 291; III, 24;
on Johann van B., 67;
B’s musical jest, 115;
agrees to guarantee Grillparzer’s opera, 121, 158, 294.

“~Liebe unter den Handwerkern~” (“L’Amore artigiano”):
Opera by Gassmann, I, 31.

~Liebich, Carl~: General Manager of Bohemian Theatres, II, 110.

~Liechtenstein, Baron Carl August~: I, 286, 304;
“Bathmendi,” 304;
“Die steinerne Braut,” 305; II, 2.

~Liechtenstein, Prince Johann Joseph~: I, 171, 244.

~Liechtenstein, Princess~: I, 244;
dedication to, 291.

“~Lilla~”: Opera by Martini, I, 108, 109.

~Lincoln, Abraham~, President of the U. S.: appoints
Thayer Consul, I, x.

~Lind~: B’s tailor, II, 164.

~Lind-Goldschmid, Jenny~: Once owner of the Heiligenstadt
Will, I, 351.

~Lindner, Andreas~, Dancing-master: I, 147.

~Linke~, Violoncellist: I, 174, 316; II, 124, 125, 316,
319, 337; III, 294, 312.

~Linz~: B’s visit to his brother at, I, 229.

~Lipsius.~ (See LA MARA.)

“~Listige Bauernmädchen, Das~” (“La finta Giardiniera”):
Opera by Paisiello, I, 108.

~Liszt, Franz~: Gets B’s Broadwood Pf., II, 392;
is presented to B., III, 124;
the alleged kiss, 124.

~Lobkowitz, Prince~: I, 168;
amateur violinist, 169;
his orchestra, 239;
dedication of quartets, 276, 290;
II, B’s epithet, “Lobkowitzian ass,” 51, 98;
suggests engagement of B. at Court Theatres, 99;
dedication of “Eroica,” 77, 110, 113;
subscribes to annuity contract, 139, 146;
dedication of “Harp” Quartet, 160;
dedication of Fifth Symphony, 162;
the Annuity Fund, 170, 172;
dedication of Quartet, Op. 74, 195;
assumes direction of Court Theatres, 201;
reduction of his obligation under Annuity Contract, 212;
suspends payment, 213;
ruined by theatrical management, 250;
the annuity obligation, 289;
settlement of, 306;
B’s aspersions on his character, 307;
cantata on his birthday, 354.

“~Lodoïska~”: Opera by Cherubini, II, 3.

~Lodron, Count~: II, 98.

~Loewe, Ludwig~: Actor for whom B. acts as love messenger, II, 205.

~London Musicians~: B’s appeal to, II, 273.

~Longfellow, Henry W.~: II, 193.

~Lonsdale, Charles~: Partner of Robert Birchall, II,
319, 346, 350, 351.

~Lonsdale, Robert~: II, 319.

~Louis XVIII~, King of France: Subscribes for the Mass
in D and strikes medal in B’s honor, III, 100.

~Louis Ferdinand~, Prince of Prussia: Amateur musician
complimented by B., I, 196;
and the “Eroica,” II, 26, 32, 302.

~Lower Rhenish Festival~: III, 188.

~Lucchesi, Andrea~: Appointed successor to B’s grandfather, I, 22;
“L’Inganno scoperto,” 27, 47;
“Le Donne sempre donne,” 26;
“Il Natale di Giove,” 26;
“L’Improvvisata,” 27;
sketch of, 34, 71, 73, 74, 82.

“~Lucille~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 31, 86.

“~Lügnerin aus Liebe~”: Opera by Salieri, I, 32.

~Luib, Ferdinand~: I, 269, 356.

~Lwoff~, Russian Privy Councillor: II, 75.

“~Macbeth~”: Opera-book by Collin, II, 119, 151, 158;
another, III, 117.

~Macco, Alexander~: II, 18, 124.

~Macfarren, Natalie~: III, 231.

“~Mädchen im Eichthale~” (“Maid of the Oaks”): Opera by
d’Antoine, I, 32.

“~Mädchen von Frascati, Das~”: Opera by Paisiello, I, 107.

“~Magnifique, Le~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 86.

~Mähler, Willibrord Joseph~, Painter: Visited by Thayer, I, xi, 146;
II, paints portrait of B., 15, 305;
anecdote about “Fidelio,” 51;
invited by B., 198.

“~Maid of the Oaks~”: Opera by d’Antoine, I, 32.

~Malfatti, Dr.~: II, 86, 141;
sends B. to Teplitz, 202, 280;
insulted by B., 345, 369;
III, at B’s last illness, 274, 288;
estrangement and reconciliation, 284, 285;
his treatment of B., 286, 287, 292.

~Malfatti, Therese~: I, xvi, 292;
alleged proposal of marriage to by B., 333, 336; II, 141;
sketch of, II, 86, 106;
letter to, 176, 239.

~Malherbe, Charles~: I, 139.

~Malines~: Van Beethoven families living in, I, 44.

~Mälzel, Johann Nepomuk~: Career of, II, 232 _et seq._;
makes ear-trumpet for B., 233;
invents metronome, 233;
the canon on his name, 234 _et seq._;
lends B. money, 245;
conceives “Wellington’s Victory,” 251 _et seq._;
his mechanical trumpeter, 251, 257, 261;
his panharmonicon, 251;
contemplates accompanying B. to England, 251, 255;
projects concert for production of “Wellington’s Victory,” 256;
B’s note of thanks to, 258;
quarrels with B., 259;
legal proceedings, 271 _et seq._;
American career and death of, 276, 384.

~Mandycewski, Eusebius~: I, 210, 223.

“~Marchese Tulipano, Il~”: Opera by Paisiello, I, 108.

~Marconi~, Singer: II, 129.

~Maria Ludovica, Empress~: III, 142.

~Maria Theresia~: I, 77, 81;
dedication of Septet, 278, 283;
sings part in an opera by Reicha, 310.

“~Mariage des Samnites, Le~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 31.

~Marie Antoinette~: I, 78.

~Marinelli~, Manager of theatre in Vienna: I, 164.

~Marlborough, Earl of~: I, 6.

~Marschner, Heinrich~: Visits B., II, 382.

~Marshall, Julian~: I, 140.

~Martini~: I, 87;
“Arbore di Diana, L’,” 107;
“Lilla,” 108, 109.

~Marx, A. B.~: On the Sonata Op. 81a, II, 143;
disputes genuineness of B’s letter to Bettina von Arnim, 183.

~Mason, Lowell~: Employs Thayer in his library, I, x;
provides funds for his researches, x.

~Mastiaux, Johann Gottlieb~: Amateur in Bonn, I, 38, 89.

“~Materialien für Contrapunkt~”: II, 147, 150.

“~Materialien für Generalbass~”: II, 147, 150.

“~Matrimonio segreto, Il~”: Opera by Cimarosa, I, 164.

~Matthison~: His duel with Handel, I, 72.

~Matthisson.~ (See ADELAIDE in Index of Compositions.)

~Mattioli, Cajetano~, Sketch of: I, 34, 82.

~Mäurer, B. J.~, Court violoncellist: I, 24, 61, 62, 65.

~Max Franz~, Elector of Cologne: I, 16;
shares his mistress with his Prime Minister, 16;
his dance-room, 30;
commands report on music at his court, 82;
the theatre in his reign, 86;
career, 77 _et seq._;
described by Swinburne and Mozart, 78;
his musical education, 81;
his appreciation of Mozart, 81;
music in Bonn during his reign, 88;
knights Count Waldstein, 102;
plans national theatre, 105 _et seq._;
III; his patronage of B., 116;
limit of his assistance, 124;
flees before French troops, 125;
allows grain and salary increase to B., 149;
visits Vienna, 179;
flees to Frankfort, 179;
discharged of all obligations, 190;
visit to Vienna, 267;
Archduke Karl made his coadjutor as Grand Master of
Teutonic Order, 287;
in retirement at Hetzendorf, 288.

~Max Friedrich~, Elector of Cologne: I, 1;
ascends throne, 14;
career, 14;
his Prime Minister, 14;
his popularity, 14;
described by Henry Swinburne, 16;
music at his court, 16;
appoints B’s grandfather Chapelmaster, 17;
promises composer’s father a salary, 17;
grants an increase, 19, 22;
appoints Lucchesi successor to B’s grandfather, 23;
opera performed at his court, 25 _et seq._;
birthday celebration, 26;
plays at his theatre, 27, 28, 29;
theatre closed because of his death, 33;
dedication of B’s boyhood Sonatas, 72;
assumes all costs of Electoral Theatre, 73;
appoints B. Assistant Court Organist, 74;
death of, 74;
effect of his death on B., 76, 78;
promotes education, 80.

~Maximilian Emanuel~, Elector of Bavaria: I, 7.

~Maximilian Heinrich~, Elector of Cologne: I, 3.

~Maximilian Joseph~, King of Bavaria: Dedication of the
Choral Fantasia, II, 207, 209.

~Mayence~, Archbishops of: I, 3.

~Mayseder, Joseph~: I, 274; II, 41, 125, 216;
E-flat Sonata Quartet, II, 193;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

“~Medea~”: Opera by Cherubini, II, 3.

~Medina, Maria~: Wife of Vigano, dancer, I, 283, 284.

~Méhul~: Opera “Ariodante,” II, 23.

~Meier, Sebastian~: Mozart’s brother-in-law, II, 4, 50;
letter to, about “Fidelio,” 61, 209.

~Meinert~: Sketchbook, II, 150, 161.

~Meisl, Carl~: Changes “Ruins of Athens” to “Consecration
of the House,” III, 79;
drama, 82.

~Meissner, Prof. A. G.~: Oratorio text, II, 19.

~Melichar, Ilka~: I, 342.

“~Melusine~”: Opera-book by Grillparzer, III, 118 _et seq._; 135, 220.

~Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Felix~: Description of Dorothea
Ertmann, II, 83.

~Mendelssohn, Paul~: I, xii;
owner of sketches for “Fidelio,” II, 45.

~Merz, Julius~: Publishes B’s letter to Bettina von Arnim,
II, 182, 185.

“~Messiah~”: Handel’s oratorio, II, 310, 312; III, 135, 182, 296.

~Metastasio~: “Olimpiade,” I, 204;
“Betulia liberata,” III, 143.

~Metronome~ (see MÄLZEL): II, 382;
marks for the Ninth Symphony, III, 244.

~Meyer, Court Councillor von~: Amateur, I, 172.

~Meyerbeer, Giacomo~: II, 39, 256;
beats drum at performance of “Wellington’s Victory,” 258;
B’s opinion of, 297;
“Die beiden Caliphen,” 297.

~Mickley, Joseph J.~: II, 385.

~Mihl~ (or ~Mühle~): Opera “Milton und Elmire,” I, 31.

~Milder-Hauptmann, Anna~: II, 49;
and “Fidelio,” 64;
quarrels with B., 129, 263, 278, 284, 329.

~Milton, John~: II, 169.

“~Milton und Elmire~”: Opera by Mihl, I, 31.

“~Moda, La~”: Opera by Baroni, I, 27.

“~Molinara, La~”: Opera by Paisiello, I, 187.

~Molitor~: Amateur in Vienna, II, 2.

~Mollo~, Publisher: His publication of a Quintet, controversy, I, 294.

~Molt, Theodore~: Visitor to B. from Quebec, III, 211.

~Mombelli~, Singer: I, 188.

~Monsigny~: Operas “Le Déserteur,” I, 31;
“Félix, ou l’Enfant trouvé,” 32, 109;
“Rose et Colas,” 29, 86.

~Moor, The~: Haydn’s nickname for B., I, 146.

~Moravian nobility~: Their musical culture, I, 168.

~Morris, Jack~: Brings score of “Mount of Olives” to London, II, 309.

“~Morte d’Abel, La~”: Opera, I, 14.

~Moscheles, Ignaz~: His English paraphrase of Schindler’s
biography, I, ix;
visited by Thayer, xi, 241;
on the first performance of the Choral Fantasia, II, 130;
composes marches for Mälzel’s panharmonicon, 351;
tells of the composition of “Wellington’s Victory,” 253;
his account of the performance, 358;
on the Trio, Op. 97, 270;
makes Pf. score of “Fidelio,” 281, 282;
first meeting with B., 282;
“Fidelio,” 303;
B’s opinion of as a pianist, 381; III, 289, 290, 291, 293.

~Mosel, Ignaz von~: II, 358, 386;
at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Möser~: Violinist in Vienna, II, 8.

~Mozart~: Education derived from his father, I, 85;
B’s visit to, 89, 90;
his morning concerts in Vienna, 166;
relations with Mme. Hofdemel, 254, 305;
B’s admiration for the Concerto in C minor, 219;
B’s appreciation, II, 89; III, 42;
Cherubini’s estimate of his genius, 205;
B. defends authenticity of his “Requiem,” III, 233;
the “Requiem” played at B’s funeral, 312;
his operas “Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” I, 32, 107, 109;
“Don Giovanni,” I, 91, 107, 163, 193, 204; II, 204; III, 42;
“Le Nozze di Figaro,” I, 82, 108, 163, 193;
“Il Re Pastore,” I, 81;
“Die Zauberflöte,” I, 164, 226, 304; II, 22; III, 36;
“La Clemenza di Tito,” I, 194; II, 110;
“Idomeneus,” II, 101.

~Müller, Adolph~: And B’s orchestration of the funeral march
from the Sonata in E-flat, Op. 26, II, 295.

~Müller, Chancellor~: II, 180.

~Müller, Louise~: Singer at first performance of “Fidelio,” II, 49.

~Müller, Wenzel~, Chapelmaster: I, 164.

~Müller, W. Christian~: His account of B., III, 36.

~Mylich~: I, 210, 231.

“~Nach Frankreichs unheilvollem Sturz~”: Cantata text left
uncomposed, II, 292.

~Nagel, W.~: “Beethoven und seine Klaviersonaten,” I, 293.

~Nägele~: Projects publication of Bach’s works, I, 304;
publishes sonata with interpolated measures, 367;
“Répertoire des Clavecinistes,” II, 20, 38.

“~Nanerina e Pandolfo~”: Opera by Dutillier, I, 165.

~Napier, William~: Publishes Haydn’s arrangements of Scottish
songs, II, 70.

~Naples~: A call thither for B., II, 194;
King of, and the Mass in D, III, 90.

~Napoleon.~ (See BONAPARTE.)

~Natorp, Mme.~ (See SESSI.)

~Naumann~, Chapelmaster: II, 19.

~Neate, Charles~: English pianist, visited by Thayer, I, xi;
B’s story on origin of his deafness, 263;
II, introduced to B., 315;
buys overtures for the London Philharmonic Society, 333;
defends himself against B’s charges, 349;
unable to help B. in London, 337;
letters from B., 339, 351, 352, 367;
III, enjoined “For God’s sake buy nothing of B.,” 52;
seeks publisher for B. in London, 73, 183, 186.

~Neefe, C. G.~: Appointed successor to Van den Eeden as Court
Organist, I, 25;
joins Dramatic Co. at Bonn, 30;
music for court festival, 31;
opera “Heinrich und Lyda,” 31, 36;
“Die Apotheke,” 31;
“Sophonisba,” 31;
describes musicians in Bonn 33;
career of 34;
“Amor’s Guckkasten,” 36;
“Die Einsprüche,” 36;
“Zemire und Azor,” 36, 37;
instrumental compositions, 36;
“Adelheit von Veltheim,” 37;
ode, 37;
teaches B., 61, 62, 67 _et seq._;
leaves his duties as organist to the boy B., 69;
“Materialien für Contrapunkt,” 70;
his duties as Court Organist, 71, 73;
dismissed, 73;
with Klos’ troupe, 105;
B’s appreciation of him as teacher, 68, 124, 142;
his daughter, 304.

~Nelson, Lord~: Not commemorated in the “Eroica,” II, 25.

~Niemetz~: Dissolute companion of B’s nephew, III, 252, 255, 258.

~Nikelsberg, Carl Nikl Edler von~: I, 222;
dedication of Concerto in B-flat, I, 290.

“~Nina~”: Opera by Dalayrac, I, 107, 108.

“~Nobilità delusa, La~”: Opera, I, 26.

~Nohl, Ludwig~: I, 292;
on B. and Countess Guicciardi, 321;
on Therese Malfatti, 333, 339;
on the letter to Bettina von Arnim, II, 185;
“Eine stille Liebe zu Beethoven,” 362;
“Beethoven, Liszt und Wagner,” III, 124.

~Nottebohm~: “Zweite Beethoveniana,” I, 71, 76, 261;
“Beethoven’s Studien,” I, 156, 216;
“Beethoveniana,” I, 156, 261;
“Ein Skizzenbuch von Beethoven,” 258, 304;
on B’s studies with Albrechtsberger and Haydn, 151, 158;
on the text of the Choral Fantasia, II, 133;
on the date of the Petter sketchbook, II, 151;
on the canon on Hoffmann, III, 35.

~Novello, Ewer and Co.~: I, xiii; III, 13.

~Novello, Vincent~: II, 12.

“~Nozze, Le~”: Opera by Galuppi, I, 25.

“~Nozze di Figaro, Le~”: Opera by Mozart, I, 82, 108, 163, 193.

“~Nozze disturbata, Le~”: Ballet by Vigano, I, 188, 193.

~Nussböck, Leopold~: Guardian of B’s nephew, III, 8.

~Nussdorf.~ (See LODGINGS.)

“~Oberon~”: Opera by Wranitzky, I, 165.

~Obreskow~: Russian official, III, 101, 102.

~Odelga~: III, 101, 102.

~Odescalchi, Prince~: I, 209, 244.

~Odescalchi, Princess~: I, 223;
dedication to, 290;
taught by B., 322;
dedication to, 368, 369.

“~Ode to Joy~”: Schiller’s, I, 132, 275; II, 152, 295, 414;
III, 145, 146, 148 _et seq._

“~Odyssey~”: Homer’s, I, 252.

“~Olimpiade~”: Opera by Sacchini, I, 32.

~Oliva, Franz~: His relations with B., II, 143;
dedication to, 161;
delivers B’s letter to Goethe, 197, 202;
plans to accompany B. to England, 220;
estrangement with B., 220; III, 24;
goes to St. Petersburg, 41.

~Operas~ performed at Bonn in 18th century: I, 25, 26, 27, 29,
31, 32, 107.

~Oppersdorff, Count~: The Symphony in B-flat, II, 68, 101, 122,
123, 124, 162.

“~Orfeo~”: Opera by Gluck, I, 86.

~Ossian~: B’s appreciation of, II, 147.

~Oudinot~: “Der Fassbinder,” I, 29.

~Ovid~: His “Metamorphoses” called for by B. on his death-bed,
III, 283.

~Pachler-Koschak, Mme.~: B’s friendship for, II, 282; III, 140.

“~Pächter, Die drei~”: Opera by Desaides, I, 107.

~Paër, Ferdinand~: I, 282;
his funeral march and that in the Sonata Op. 26, 290;
“Achilles,” 290;
“Das heilige Grab,” II, 2;
“Leonora,” II, 35, 37.

~Paisiello~: Operas at Bonn, I, 86;
“La Frascatana,” 107;
“Il Barbiere,” 108;
“Il Re Teodoro,” 108;
“La Finta Giardiniera,” 108;
“La Molinara,” 187;
“Il Marchese Tulipano,” 108; II, 204.

~Palestrina~: Preferred over all church composers by B., III, 203.

~Palffy, Count Ferdinand~: II, 98;
supposed grudge against B., 100, 146;
accepts direction of Court Theatres, 201;
produces “Fidelio” for the Congress of Vienna, 293;
and the concert of 1814, 299;
and the Ninth Symphony, III, 157 _et seq._

“~Paradise Lost~”: II, 310.

~Parke~: “Musical Memories,” II, 12.

~Parma, Duchess of~: Asked by B. to urge Grand Duke of Tuscany
to subscribe to the Mass in D, III, 101.

~Pasqualati, Baron Johann~: Witnesses Karl van B’s declaration
as to the guardianship of his son, II, 241;
signs affidavit against Mälzel, 288;
the “Elegiac Song” in memory of his wife, 288, 306; III, 58.
(See LODGINGS.)

“~Pastorella al Soglio, La~”: Opera, I, 26.

~Paul~, Czar of Russia: II, 81.

~Payer, Hieronymus~: II, 26.

~Perger, A. von~: Discovers minuets by B., I, 211.

~Pergolesi~: “La Serva Padrona,” I, 108.

~Perkins, Charles C.~: “History of the Handel and Haydn Society
of Boston,” III, 87.

~Persian Literature~: B’s interest in, II, 167.

~Pessiak, Mme.~: II, 362; III, 13.

~Pesth~: New theatre planned for, II, 154, 200;
opening of, 213.

~Peters, C. F.~, Publisher: Negotiations for Mass in D and
other works, I, 271, 55, 57 _et seq._, 58, 59, 60, 61, 64,;
refuses to publish works sent by B., 65;
advance payment by, 70;
rejects “Bagatelles,” 86;
complains of B’s treatment of him, 180;
receives rebuke and ultimatum, 212;
B. calls him a “hell-hound,” 216.

~Peters~: Tutor to Prince Lobkowitz and co-guardian of B’s nephew,
II, 326, 354; III, 10, 24, 32.

“~Petit Matelot, Le~”: Opera by Gaveaux, II, 36.

~Petter Collection~: Sketches by B., I, 274, 290; II, 118, 151, 209.

~Pfeiffer, Tobias~: Gives music lessons to B., I, 62, 63.

~Philharmonic Society of London.~ (See under B., LUDWIG VAN.)

~Philidor~: “Der Hofschmied,” I, 29;
his operas at Bonn, 86.

~Pianoforte~: Presented to B. by Erard, II, 21.

~Pianoforte~: Presented to B. by Broadwood, II, 390 _et seq._;
III, 214, 237.

~Piccini~: Operas “La buona Figluola;” I, 25, 26, 32;
“Le Aventure di Rodolfo,” 26;
“La Schiava,” 32.

~Pictures and Music~: II, 249, 262.

~Pilat, Joseph~: II, 359.

“~Pilgrimme von Mecca, Die~”: Opera by Gluck, I, 32, 108.

~Pinterics, Captain~: II, 235, 327; III, 32.

~Piringer~: III, 62, 137, 157;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Plato~: His influence on B., I, 213.

~Pleyel, Ignatz~: His quartets, II, 44;
his arrangements of Scottish songs, 70, 260.

~Plittersdorf, Mme.~: II, 179.

~Plutarch~: I, 252, 300.

~Polledro~: Joins B. in concert for sufferers at Baden, II, 225.

~Popularity of B’s Works~: II, 38.

~Portenschlag~, Viennese editor: II, 359.

“~Prächtige, Der~” (“Le Magnifique”): Opera by Grétry, I, 86.

~Prague~: B. plays in, I, 192;
music in, 193;
B. gives concert in, 217;
production of “Fidelio” in, II, 110;
visit of B. in 1812, 222.

~Preisinger~, Bass singer: III, 164.

~Prelinger~, Editor of a collection of B’s letters: I, 336.

~Prichnowsky, Prince~: II, 8.

~Prieger, Dr. E.~: I, 88;
owner of fragment of Wind Quintet, 206, 211;
publishes _facsimile_ of Sonata Op. 26, 291;
reprint of original “Fidelio,” II, 45, 58.

~Prince Regent of England~: B. sends him “Wellington’s Victory,”
II, 310, 311, 318, 336, 339; III, 112, 208.

~Probst, H. A.~, Publisher: B offers him the Ninth Symphony and
Mass in D, III, 178.

~Programme Music~: II, 119;
the Sonata Op. 90, 292;
B. objects to programme of the Seventh Symphony, III, 37.

~Pronay, Baron von~: II, 367.

~Prussia, Kings of~: Frederick William subscribes to Mass in D,
III, 94;
offers decoration instead of money, 94, 105;
dedication of the Ninth Symphony to, 230, 233, 234;
sends B. a ring 133, 276, 282;
Frederick II reputed to be the father of B., III, 243.

~Pückler-Muskau~: Bettina von Arnim’s letter to, II, 186, 188, 223.

~Punto, Giovanni~ (Johannes Stich), Horn-player: I, 239, 267, 277.

~Pyne~, English singer: II, 310.

~Quartet of Instruments~: Presented to B., I, 354.

“~Queen of Night~”: B’s nickname for his sister-in-law, II,
332, 341, 393.

~Rabelais~: His last words and B’s, III, 305.

~Raday, Count~: Ruined by theatrical management, II, 154.

~Radicati, Felix~: II, 75.

~Radichi~, Singer: II, 265.

~Radziwill, Prince Anton~: II, 302;
his “Faust” music, 302;
subscribes for the Mass in D, III, 94, 104, 106.

~Ramm, Friedrich~, Oboist: I, 207; II, 33, 34.

“~Raoul, Sire de Croqui~”: Ballet by Vignano, I, 283.

“~Raptus~”: Mme. Breuning’s expression for B’s occasional state,
I, 118, 120, 301; II, 182, 189.

~Rasoumowsky, Count Andreas~: Appeals to B. for lessons in
composition, I, 273;
the Quartets composed for him, II, 65, 68, 74, 81, 104, 110, 124;
forms the Rasoumowsky Quartet, II, 125;
sketch of him, 81;
dedication of the Fifth Symphony, 162;
lasting friendship with B., 215;
his Quartet, 250;
regal entertainments at the Congress of Vienna, 300;
destruction of his palace, 301;
the Quartet, 316.

~Rau~, Viennese banker: Reports receipt of Philharmonic Society’s
gift to B., III, 292;
reports B’s death to Moscheles, 293.

~Raysbeck, Mme.~: One of the favorites of Elector Joseph Clemens,
I, 3, 4.

~Redoutensaal~: Dances for, I, 188, 289.

~Reeve, Dr. Henry~: Criticism on “Fidelio,” II, 52.

~Reicha, Anton~: I, 105;
career of 106, 117;
comes to Vienna, 288, 300;
opera “Ubaldi,” 310, 355; II, 55.

~Reicha, Joseph~: I, 82, 84, 105;
career of, 100, 111.

~Reichardt, Johann Friedrich~: Chapelmaster in Berlin, I, 196;
on Countess Erdödy, II, 82;
on Streicher’s pianofortes, 87, 124;
account of B’s concert, 129;
and B’s call to Jerome Bonaparte’s court, 141;
value of his letters, 165.

~Reichardt, Karl August~: Visits B., III, 203.

~Reiss, Anton~: Father-in-law of Karl v. B., II, 65.

~Reiss, Theresa (Johanna)~: Wife of Karl Kaspar v. B., II, 65.

~Reissig, C. L.~: His poems, II, 147;
denounced by B., 148;
“Blümchen der Einsamkeit,” 160;
songs published, 195.

~Rellstab, Ludwig~: visits B., III, 200.

“~Reue vor der That, Die~”: Opera by Desaides, I, 32.

~Rhine~: Inundation, I, 75;
journey on, of the Electoral Chapel, 112.

“~Richard Cœur de Lion~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 226, 305.

~Riemann, Dr. Hugo~: Completes revision of the German edition
of this biography, I, xv;
on the authenticity of the “Jena” Symphony, 211;
upholds charges against B’s brothers, 360;
asserts that B. wanted to marry Therese Malfatti, 336;
his theory concerning the love-letter, II, 239.

~Ries, Anna Maria~, Court singer at Bonn: I, 18, 19, 23.

~Ries, Ferdinand~:
Vol. I.
“Biographische Notizen,” etc., ix, xi, 90, 313, 315;
on B’s manuscripts, 141;
on his studies with Haydn, 152;
on B’s teachers, 161;
on the first performance of the Trios Op. 1, 175;
B’s riding-horse, 200;
Quintet Op. 16, 207;
Quintet Op. 29, 203, 312;
his career, 312 _et seq._;
B’s kindness toward, 313;
instruction from B., 314;
arrangements of B’s works, 350;
origin of the Marches for four hands, 350;
on B’s deafness, 352;
charge of misconduct against Karl Kaspar v. B., 361;
B’s interest in him, 363;
B. aids him to employment, 366
--Vol. II.
His account of first performance of “The Mount of Olives,” 7;
his account of the first meeting between B. and Clementi, 23;
on the origin of the “Eroica,” 24;
an alleged false entry in the “Eroica,” 26;
plays at a sentimental scene for B., 29;
letters from B., 27, 28, 29, 334, 338, 340, 371, 395, 412, 413;
plays the C minor concerto, 30, 82;
significant hiatus in his book, 41;
B. greets him with lathered face, 48;
not permitted to hear a reading of “Fidelio,” 48;
conscripted, 49;
on B’s disregard of etiquette, 80, 124;
orchestra refuses to play for B., 128;
the Concertos in C minor and G, 131;
on B’s call to Cassel, 140, 310, 324, 325;
invites B. to London, 370;
relations with B., 372.
--Vol. III.
B’s “Nothing for Ries,” 49, 110, 111;
makes contract for B. with Boosey, 128;
B. promises a dedication to his wife, 128;
removes to Godesberg, 188, 189.
(See SYMPHONY IN D MINOR.)

~Ries, Franz Anton~: I, 11, 24, 25;
aids father of the composer, 93, 95;
gives violin lessons to B., 99, 105, 117, 119;
collects salary for B., 149;
seeks to obtain pension for B., 148.

~Ries, Johann~, Court Trumpeter at Bonn: I, 11, 18, 51, 87.

~Righini, Vincenzo~: “Venni amore,” I, 114, 138.

~Risbeck, Kaspar~: Description of the Rhenish States, I, 15.

“~Riso d’Apolline, Il~”: Opera by Betz, I, 126.

“~Ritorno di Tobia~”: Oratorio by Haydn, II, 131.

“~Robert und Callista~”: Opera by Guglielmo, I, 31, 109.

~Röckel, Elizabeth~: On B’s susceptibility, II, 181.

~Röckel, J. A.~: Career of, II, 53;
his notes on “Fidelio,” 53, 60, 62;
B’s liking for, 92;
on B’s desire to compose operas, 119;
letter, 128;
on B’s desire to travel, 142;
on the revision of “Fidelio” in 1814, 265.

~Roda, Cecilio de~: B’s sketches for the last Quartets, I, 277.

~Rode, Pierre~: B. composes Sonata for him, II, 235, 236.

~Rolland, Romaine~: I, 337.

~Romberg, Andreas~: I, 105;
career of, 106, 111, 199.

~Romberg, Bernhard~: I, 105;
career of, 106, 111, 117, 121, 199, 205;
and first Rasoumowsky Quartet, II, 75; III, 72.

“~Romeo und Juliet~”: Opera by Benda, I, 31, 107, 108.
Opera by Zingarelli, II, 172.
Considered by B., III, 117.

“~Romulus and Remus~”: Opera by Johann Fuss, II, 304;
opera-book by Treitschke, II, 304, 381.

“~Röschen und Colas~” (“Rose et Colas”): Opera by Monsigny, I, 29.

~Rösner, Felia~: Daughter of Neefe, I, 304.

~Rothe~: Singer in “Fidelio,” II, 51.

“~Rothkäppchen, Das~”: Opera by Dittersdorf, I, 109, 176, 188.

~Rovantini, Franz Georg~: Gives violin instruction to B., I, 64, 67.

~Royal Library~ at Berlin: Acquires B.’s memorabilia, I, xi;
sends Conversation Books to Thayer, xi;
owns B.’s quartet of viols, 277;
gets B’s posthumous papers from Schindler, III, 11.

~Rubini~: III, 77.

~Rudolf~, Violinist and conductor: I, 166.

~Rudolph, Archduke~ of Austria:
II, 79, 100;
dedication of Concerto in G, 134;
Trios, Op. 70, 132;
subscription to the annuity contract, 139;
the Sonata Op. 81, 143;
his studies with B., 147, 150, 154;
dedication of E-flat Concerto, 160;
the annuity contract, 170, 172, 212, 213, 217, 242, 306;
B. wearies of teaching him, 194, 199;
letters, 199, 206, 225, 235, 248, 250, 266, 286;
B. tells Goethe of disciplining him, 227;
and calls his duty “servitude,” 240;
compelled to quit pianoforte playing, 266;
lessons irksome to B., 381;
charged by B. with his misfortunes, 396;
installation as Archbishop of Olmütz, 398, 412;
dedication of Op. 101, 414;
--III, letters from B., 1, 9, 19, 20, 34;
asked to help send nephew to Landshut, 6;
his Variations, 19, 20;
urged to compose, 21;
dedication of Op. 106, 23, 25;
enthroned as Archbishop, 33, 44;
dedication of Op. 111, 50;
Variations on air by Rossini, 77, 82, 91, 94;
asked to urge subscription to Mass on Grand Duke of Tuscany
and King of Saxony, 95, 96;
B. rails against him, 112;
urges B. to compose Bernard’s oratorio, 175;
dedication of the Mass in D, 212.

“~Ruines de Babilone~”: II, 202.

“~Rule, Britannia~”: II, 252.
(See VARIATIONS, in Index of Compositions.)

~Ruschowitz, Constanze~: I, 99.

~Ruskin, John~: On the imagination, III, 25.

~Russia, Empress of~: II, 305;
Czar subscribes for the Mass in D, III, 102, 105;
dedication of the Ninth Symphony considered, 231.

~Russian Melodies~: In the Rasoumowsky Quartets, II, 74;
in “Ruins of Athens,” 162.

~Rust, Wilhelm~: Description of B., II, 117;
on B. and the French, 146.

~Rzewuska, Countess~: II, 111.

~Saal~, Singers: I, 266.

~Sacchini~: His operas at Bonn, I, 86;
“La Contadina in Corte,” 26;
“L’Olimpiade,” 32;
“L’Isola d’Amore,” 108.

~Saint-Foix, Georges~: I, 139.

~Salieri~: “Armida,” I, 86;
“La Grotta di Trofonio,” 107;
“König Axur in Ormus,” 109, 163;
“Falstaff,” 227;
gives B. lessons in composition, 154, 160;
Violin Sonata dedicated to him, 163, 214;
respected by B., 241; II, 2;
“The pupil B. was here,” 64;
accused of enmity by B., 136;
conducts percussion instruments in “Wellington’s Victory,” 262.

~Salm-Reifferscheid, Count~: I, 73, 74.

~Salomon, Jacobina~: Court musician at Bonn, I, 20.

~Salomon, Johann Peter~: I, 19, 20, 51, 186; II, 317, 319,
324, 325, 359;
recants his opinion of the Fifth Symphony, 279.

~Salomon, Philip~: I, 20;
career in London, 20, 23, 110, 299.

~Salzburg~: Occupied by Bernadotte, II, 61.

~Samaroff, Olga~: I, 140.

“~Samnitische Vermählungsfeier, Die~” (“Le Mariage des Samnites”):
Opera by Grétry, I, 31.

“~Samori~”: Opera by Vogler, II, 23.

“~Samson~”: Oratorio by Handel, II, 359.

~Santerrini~: Alleged teacher of B., I, 62.

“~Sargino~”: Opera, II, 61.

~Sarti~: Operas “Fra due Litiganti,” I, 86, 109;
“L’Incognito,” 86;
“La Gelosie villane,” 109.

~Satzenhofen, Countess~ and Abbess: Mistress of Elector
Max Friedrich, I, 16.

~Sauerma, Countess~: III, 41.

“~Saul~”: Oratorio by Handel, III, 219, 285.

~Saxony, King of~: Subscribes for the Mass in D, III, 94, 96, 99, 105.

~Schaden, Dr.~: Lends money to B., I, 92;
letters to, 92, 95, 96.

~Schall, Captain~: Amateur musician in Bonn, I, 37.

~Schebek, Edmund~: II, 8.

~Schechner, Fräulein~, Singer: III, 287, 288.

~Scheidl, Cesarius~: Musical prodigy, I, 91.

~Schenck, Joseph~: Gives lessons to B., I, 152, 154.

~Schickh, Johann~: II, 359.

~Schikaneder, Emanuel~: His theatre, I, 164;
engages B. and Vogler to compose operas, II, 5;
an opera-text for B., 19;
sells interest in Theater-an-der-Wien, 22, 34.

~Schiller~: “Ode to Joy,” I, 132; II, 152, 295, 414;
III, 145, 146, 148 _et seq._;
B’s appreciation of, II, 147, 153;
popularity of his plays, 153;
“Die Sendung Moses,” 167;
“Die Flüsse,” 196;
“Fiesco,” 117.

~Schimon, Ferdinand~: Paints B’s portrait, III, 21;
B’s preference for it, 41.

~Schindler, Anton~, B’s biographer: I, ix, xi;
sells memorabilia to Berlin, x;
visited by Thayer, x;
on B’s studies with Haydn, 151;
on Bernadotte and the “Eroica,” 213;
on B’s relations with the musicians in Vienna, 241;
in error about B’s want of familiarity with the orchestra, 239;
on B’s sojourn in Hetzendorf, 289;
on Hoffmeister’s edition of Bach, 303;
his theory about B’s love, 318 _et seq._;
conversation with B. about Countess Guicciardi, 320;
defects as an investigator, 323;
--II, On B’s religion, 168;
division of B’s work into periods, 171;
the canon on Mälzel and the Allegretto of the
Eighth Symphony, 234;
makes B’s acquaintance, 270;
his account of the quarrel with Mälzel disputed, 270 _et seq._;
growth of familiarity with B., 327;
wrong as to B’s relations with Ries, 372;
trustworthiness as a biographer, 376;
beginning of an intimacy with B., 378;
in error as to the story of B’s noble birth, 410;
--III, Sells B’s papers to the Royal Library, 11;
praised by Horzalka, 42;
on Johann v. B, 67;
his story about Schubert and B., 79;
gets B’s papers, 93;
“L’Ami de Beethoven,” 93;
his nickname, 106;
B. calls him a scoundrel, 128, 133, 158;
on B’s drinking habits, 196;
his biography of B., 197 _et seq._;
false tale of Nephew Karl’s negligence, 272;
falsification of the Conversation Books, 273, 281;
charged by B. with theft of a petty sum, 281;
gets autograph of Ninth Symphony, 281;
accuses Johann v. B. of niggardliness, 278, 293;
B. sends him a meal from his sick-bed, 295.

~Schlegel~: One of his texts proposed for an opera, III, 117.

~Schleiermacher~: His translation of Plato, I, 213.

~Schlesinger~, Musician: II, 125.

~Schlesinger~, Publisher in Berlin: III, 54;
denounced by B., 55;
accepts Mass in D, 55, 190;
B’s treatment of, 190.

~Schlesinger, Moritz~, Publisher in Paris: Visits B.,
III, 203, 204, 206.

~Schlösser, Louis~: Visits B., III, 125;
and the Mass in D, 97.

“~Schmaus, Der~” (“Il Convivo”): Opera by Cimarosa, I, 107.

~Schmidgen~: II, 125.

~Schmidt, Dr. Johann~: I, 278, 302, 348, 349, 353.

~Schmidt, Leopold~: Publishes B’s letter to Simrock, II, 13.

~Schmith, Antoinette~: III, 14.

~Schnaps, Frau~: B’s housekeeper, III, 131.

~Schneider, Friedrich~: Visits B., III, 18.

~Schneider, Johann~: Plays E-flat Concerto, II, 160.

~Schneller, Julius Franz Borgias~: II, 88.

~Schoberlechner, Franz~: III, 130.

~Schönauer, Dr.~: II, 320, 321, 331.

~Schönbrunn~, Garden of: I, 288.

“~Schöne Schusterin, Die~”: Opera by Umlauf, I, 108, 142, 165, 204.

~Schott and Sons~, Publishers: The Mass in D, III, 55,
57, 177, 178, 189;
Quartet in E-flat, 178;
Ninth Symphony, 178;
B. asks for a gift of wine, 290 _et seq._

~Schreiber~, Violist of Schuppanzigh Quartet: II, 41.

~Schreyvogel, von~: II, 304.

~Schreyvogel and Rizzi~: Publish catalogue of B’s works, II, 38.

~Schroeder-Devrient, Mme.~: III, 83, 84, 85.

~Schubauer~: Opera “Die Dorfdeputirten,” I, 109.

~Schubert, Franz~: His “Erlkönig,” I, 230; II, 327, 355;
III, his meeting with B., 79;
takes Rochlitz to look at B., 74;
his variations on Diabelli’s waltz, 128;
B. and his songs, 298 _et seq._;
B’s remark “A divine spark dwells in S.,” 300, 301;
at B’s death-bed, 298 _et seq._;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312;
his grave beside B’s, 312.

~Schultz, Edward~: Visit to B., III, 134.

~Schulze, Mme.~, Singer: II, 330.

~Schumann, Robert~: Publishes letters of B., II, 183.

~Schuppanzigh, Ignaz~: Gives lessons on violin to B., I, 156;
his Quartet, 170, 237 _et seq._;
conducts Augarten Concerts, 238, 274;
suggests gift of viols to B., 276;
author of a theme in the Quintet Op. 29, 296;
variations for two violins, 306, 316.
--II, 2;
teacher of Mayseder, 41;
his quartet concerts, 41;
Augarten Concerts, 42, 172;
B’s joke on his marriage, 105, 125, 150, 167;
goes to Russia, 327, 337.
--III, 24, 75, 126;
and the last Quartets, 139, 156, 157, 184;
fails in E-flat Quartet, 193, 294, 312.

~Schuster~: Operas “Der Alchymist,” I, 31, 107, 108;
“Die Geitzigen in der Falle,” 108;
“Dr. Murner,” 108.

~Schwachhofer, Mme.~, Court Singer: Disciplined by B’s
grandfather, I, 20.

~Schwarzenberg, Prince~: I, 168, 172, 208;
dedication of Quintet Op. 16, 290; II, 98.

~Schwarzendorf~ (Martini): I, 87.

~Scott, Sir Walter~: I, 252; II, 214, 194;
B. reads his novels on his death-bed, III, 282.

“~Seasons, The~”: Oratorio by Haydn, I, 171; II, 120.

~Sebald, Amalie~: B’s relations with, I, 337; II, 205;
letter from B, 228;
inscription in her album, 229;
B’s infatuation for, 239, 343.

~Sebald, Auguste~: II, 205.

~Sedlažek, Jean~, Flautist: III, 208.

“~Seidenen Schuhe, Die~”: Opera by Fridzeri, I, 32.

“~Serva Padrona, La~”: Opera by Pergolesi, I, 108.

~Sessi, Mme.~, Singer: II, 2, 215.

~Seume~: His poem “Die Beterin” and the C-sharp minor Sonata,
I, 292, 339;
B. visits his grave, II, 205.

“~Seven Last Words~”: Cantata by Haydn, I, 214.

~Seyfried, Ignaz von~: “Beethoven’s Studies in Thoroughbass,”
I, 159, 215, 249; II, 147, 152, 183;
on B’s playing, I, 216;
on the character of his brothers, 361; II, 2, 6;
and the C minor Concerto, 7;
conducts rehearsals of “Fidelio,” 51;
asked by B. to conduct the opera, 61;
his description of B., 93 _et seq._,
on the first performance of the Choral Fantasia, 130, 131;
his writing for four horns, 285;
music for “Moses,” 297, 358, 388; III, 157;
arranges and composes music for B’s funeral and is pallbearer, 312.

~Seyler’s Dramatic Co.~: I, 28, 30, 35.

~Shakespeare~: Recommended by B., II, 176.

~Shedlock, J. S.~: I, 205, 208, 210, 261, 290; II, 102; III, 13.

~Siboni~, Tenor: II, 215, 267.

“~Silvain~”: Musical comedy by Grétry, I, 26, 86.

~Simonetti~, Tenor of Electoral Chapel: I, 112.

~Simoni~, Singer in Vienna: I, 282.

~Simrock, Nicolaus~, Court Hornist in Bonn: I, 24, 51, 105;
B’s association with him as publisher, 183 (see MASS IN D);
letters, 8, 183; II, 21;
B. offers him compositions, II, 105;
the Mass in C, 142;
association with B. in Vienna, 343, 345; III, 39, 44,
53 _et seq._; 56.

~Sina, Louis~, Violinist: I, 170.

~Singakademie~, in Berlin: B. plays for, I, 196; II, 205;
invited to subscribe for the Mass in D, III, 104, 180.

~Sinsendorf (Zinzendorf?), Prince~: I, 172.

~Smart, Sir George~: Visited by Thayer, I, xi, III, 208; II, 309;
produces Mass in C in London, 310, 311, 351, 302, 347, 348, 370;
visits B. in Vienna, III, 206 _et seq._; 289, 389.

~Smetana, Dr.~: Performs surgical operation on Nephew Karl, II, 341;
prescribes for B’s deafness, 85;
informed by B. of nephew’s attempt at suicide, 259, 274.

~Smith, John~, of Glasgow: III, 16.

~Sobieski, John~: I, 7.

“~Soliman II~”: Opera by Süssmayr, I, 227.

~Soltikoff, Count~: II, 75.

~Sonneck, O. G.~: I, xviii.

~Sonnenfels, Joseph Noble de~: Dedication of Sonata Op. 28, I, 293.

~Sonnleithner, Christoph von~: II, 34.

~Sonnleithner, Ignaz von~: III, 251.

~Sonnleithner, Joseph von~: On Zmeskall, I, 230;
Secretary of Court Theatres, II, 23;
his career, 34.

~Sontag, Henrietta~: III, 77, 139, 153, 162, 164.

“~Sophonisba~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 31.

~Spain~: B’s desire to travel in, II, 142.

~Spaun, Baron~: I, 338.

~Spazier~: I, 305; II, 1.

~Spencer, Herbert~: On billiard-playing, III, 253.

~Speyer, E.~: II, 216.

“~Spiegel von Arkadien~”: Opera by Süssmayer, II, 49.

~Spina~: Gets B’s Broadwood Pf., II, 392.

~Spohr, Ludwig~: His accounts of B’s conducting, II, 128, 257;
his opinion of Rode, 235;
his intercourse with B., 236;
on B’s music and playing, 269;
B’s opinion on his music, III, 203.

~Spontini~: Opera “La Vestale,” II, 36, 202, 296; III, 139;
B’s opinion of his music, 203.

~Sporchil, Johann~: Submits opera-text to B., III, 118.

~Stadler, Abbé~: I, 376;
statement as to Trio of Seventh Symphony, II, 216;
anecdote, 234;
canon, 236.

~Starcke, Friedrich~: The Bagatelles, III, 48.

~Staudenheimer, Dr.~, B’s physician: Sends him to Karlsbad,
II, 223; III, 39, 199, 273, 276.

~Stauffen, Franz~, Youthful pianist: II, 327.

~Steibelt, Daniel~: Comes to Vienna, I, 268;
encounter with B., 268;
composes battle music, II, 252.

~Stein~, Pianoforte maker: I, 88, 91, 92.

~Stein, Friedrich~, Pianist: II, 117;
and Concertos in C minor and G, 131.

~Stein, Dr. Fritz~: Publishes the “Jena” Symphony, I, 211.

~Stein, Nanette.~ (See STREICHER, NANETTE.)

~Stein, Matthäus~: II, 87.

~Steiner, Sigmund Anton~ (and Steiner and Co.): II, 279, 364;
III, lends B. money, 21;
canon, “Hol’ euch der Teufel,” 23;
letter, 38;
duns B. for money, 38, 58, 59, 71, 114, 184;
friction with B., 234;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

“~Steinerne Braut, Die~”: Opera by Liechtenstein, I, 305.

~Sterkel, Abbé~: I, 113.

~Stich, Johann Wenzel.~ (See PUNTO.)

~Stieler, Joseph~: Paints B’s portrait, III, 41.

~Storck~: I, 336.

~Streicher, Andreas~: I, 91, 92;
collects funds for Bach’s daughter, 308; II, 391; III, 180;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Streicher~, pianofortes: II, 87.

~Streicher, Nanette~: II, 87;
puts B’s house in order, 244;
letter from B., 394.

~Stummer, Fräulein~, Singer: Marries Count Lichnowsky, II, 291.

~Stumpf~, Pianoforte tuner of London: II, 391.

~Stumpff, Johann~: His visit to B., III, 181 _et seq._;
gives Handel’s scores to B., 182, 277, 289, 290, 291.

~Sturm, Christian~: “Beobachtungen über die Werke Gottes,
etc.,” I, 252; II, 55, 165.

~Stutterheim, Baron von~: Gives Nephew of B. cadetship, III, 264;
dedication, 297.

~Sulkowsky, Prince~: I, 20.

~Sumner, Charles~: Recommends Thayer for consulship, I, x.

“~Sündfluth, Die~”: Oratorio, II, 156.

~Süssmayer, F. X.~: I, 165, 188;
“Soliman II.,” 327; II, 2;
“Spiegel von Arkadien,” 49.

~Sweden, King of~: Subscription for the Mass in D, III, 102.

~Sweden~, Royal Academy of: Elects B. Hon. Mem., 130, 163.

“~Swetard’s Zaubergürtel~”: Opera by Fischer, II, 49.

~Swieten, Gottfried Freiherr von~: I, 171;
bids B. bring his night-cap, 175, 205;
dedication of First Symphony, 228, 290.

~Swift, Dean~: I, 4.

~Swinburne, Henry~: Description of Bonn and its Electors, I, 16, 78.

“~Tage der Gefahr, Die.~” (See LES DEUX JOURNÉES.)

“~Tantum ergo sacramentum~”: III, 116.

“~Tartarische Gesetz, Das~”: Opera by d’Antoine, I, 31.

~Taxis, Mme. de~: I, 16.

~Tayber, Anton~: III, 115.

~Teimer~, brothers: I, 206.

~Telemann~: I, 13;
his fluency in composition, 85.

~Tenger, Mariam~: “Beethoven’s unsterbliche Geliebte,” I, 338.

~Teplitz~: B’s visit to, II, 202, 204 _et seq._;
meeting-place of political magnates, 221;
B’s second visit in 1812, 222.

~Teutonic Order~: Clemens August elected Grand Master of, I, 7;
opens the strong box, 8;
Duke Karl of Lorraine Grand Master, 77, 98;
Count Waldstein admitted to membership, 101, 111;
Stephan von Breuning receives appointment in, 198;
Archduke Karl elected coadjutor to Grand Master, 288;
B. advises Breuning to enter the service, 303.

~Teyber~: II, 3.

~Thalberg, Sigismund~: His account of the performance of
the Ninth Symphony, III, 166.

~Thayer, Alexander Wheelock~: Vicissitudes of his biography of
B., I, vii _et seq._;
the “Chronologisches Verzeichniss,” ix, 74, 75;
sketch of his life and labors, ix _et seq._;
connected with the “New York Tribune,” ix;
second visit to Europe, x;
receives funds for research work, x;
visits all surviving friends of B., x;
employed at U. S. Legation in Vienna, x;
appointed Consul at Trieste, x;
his purposes, xi;
why the work was published in German, xii;
writes book on the Exodus of the Jews, xiii;
also on Bacon and Shakespeare, xiii;
his discoveries accepted, xiv;
labor unremunerated, xiv;
death of, xiv;
publication of this work delayed by the World War, xviii;
promoted by the Beethoven Association of New York, xviii;
his work on the Conversation Book, III, 12;
defence of Johann v. B., 68;
on the commission from the Handel and Haydn Society of Boston, 88;
visits Sir George Smart, 208 _et seq._

~Thomas-San-Galli, Dr. Wolfgang~: His book on B’s love-affairs,
I, 337; II, 239.

~Thomson, George~, Publisher of National Songs: II, 17 _et seq._;
69, 156, 259, 363, 415; III, 16.

~Thun, Princess Christiane~: I, 181, 225.

~Thun, Countess Elizabeth~: II, 81.

~Thun, Countess~: I, 244;
dedication of Pf. arrangement of “Prometheus,” I, 290.

~Thun, Count Franz Joseph von~: I, 181.

~Tiedge~: B’s association with him at Teplitz, II, 204, 206, 208.

~Tiller, Theresia~: Sells apothecary shop to Johann v. B., II, 115.

“~Timotheus~”: Oratorio by Handel, II, 216.

“~Tod Jesu~”: Oratorio by Graun, II, 89.

~Tomaschek~: Describes B’s Pf. playing, I, 217, 257;
on “Wellington’s Victory,” II, 256;
meeting with B., 297.

~Tomasini, Luigi~, Singer: II, 2.

~Touchemoulin~: Court Chapelmaster in Bonn, I, 17, 46.

~Trautmannsdorf, Prince~: I, 172.

“~Tre Amanti ridicoli, Li~”: Opera, I, 27.

~Treitschke, Georg Friedrich~: II. 35;
revises text of “Fidelio,” 264;
“Gute Nachricht,” 268, 270, 302, 317;
letters, 273, 277, 281, 284;
“Romulus and Remus,” 304, 381;
“Die Ehrenpforten,” 317.

~Tribolet, Mme.~: I, 200, 242.

“~Tribune, The New York~”: Thayer on its editorial staff, I, ix;
W. H. Fry, musical critic, 358; III, 68.

“~Trionfo d’Amore~”: Opera by Dutillier, I, 165.

“~Trofonio’s Zaubergürtel~” (“Grotta di Trofonio”):
Opera by Salieri, I, 107.

~Truchsee-Waldburg, Count~: II, 124.

~Tschiska, Dr.~: III, 3.

~Türkheim, Anton von~: I, 288; III, 97.

~Tuscany, Grand Duke of~: Subscribes for the Mass in D,
III, 95, 101, 105.

~Tuscher, Matthias~: one-time guardian of the nephew,
III, 4, 5, 7, 30.

~Ulm~: Captured by the French, II, 51.

~Umlauf, Ignaz~: “Die schöne Schusterin,” I, 108, 165, 204;
saves performance at which B. conducts, II, 263;
conducts “Fidelio,” 279; III, 157.

~Ungermann~, Police Director: III, 132.

~Ungher, Caroline~: III, 77, 78, 161, 162, 164, 166.

“~Unterbrochene Opferfest, Das~”: Opera by Winter, I, 227.

“~Van~”: not a predicate of noble birth, II, 404, 408.

~Van den Eeden, Heinrich~: I, 5;
appointed second Court Organist at Bonn, I, 10;
salary increased, 10, 25;
gives lessons to B., 61, 62, 64;
death of, 69.

~Vanhall, Joseph~, Composer: I, 173.

~Varena, Ritter von~: II, 205;
asks for music for Ursulines at Gratz, 214;
B’s letters to, II, 218, 246, 247, 249.

~Varnhagen von Ense~: His account of B’s sojourn at Teplitz,
II, 204, 222, 302.

~Vering, Dr.~: Treats B., I, 300, 302, 348.

“~Vestale, La~”: Opera by Spontini, II, 36, 296; III, 139.

“~Vesta’s Feuer~”: Opera by Weigl, II, 49.

~Victoria, Princess of England~: Wedding hymn on her marriage
to Frederick III of Prussia, III, 13.

~Vienna~: B’s first visit to, I, 89;
second journey, 124;
route travelled and incidents, 126;
arrival in the city, 128, 146;
state of music in, at the time, 163 _et seq._;
theatres, 163 _et seq._;
church music, 165;
performing musicians, 170;
composers, 172, 174;
private theatres, 173;
B’s position in Society, 174 _et seq._
--II, Music in 1803, 2;
lapse of public concerts, 42;
entered by French, 52;
administration of the Court Theatres, 98;
B. appointed composer for the theatres, 98;
appreciation of his music in the city, 116;
arrival of friends in 1808, 124;
popular attitude toward B., 126;
beleaguered and occupied by the French, 144, 145;
tax on dwellings, 146, 150;
under French, 149;
direction of the theatres assumed by Lobkowitz and Palffy, 201;
B. made Hon. Citizen of the city, 325;
its journals and their treatment of B., 358.
--III, Society of Merchants elects B. Hon. Mem., 21;
taste denounced by B., 202.

~Vigano, Salvatore~: Ballet “Le Nozze disturbata,” I, 188;
sketch of, 283;
ballet “Raoul, Sire de Croqui,” 283;
“Prometheus,” 284 _et seq._

“~Villanella di spirito, La~”: Opera, I, 108.

~Viotti~: II, 12.

~Vivenot, Dr.~: Summoned to B. at last sickness, III, 273.

~Vogl, Johann Michael~: I, 230.

~Vogler, Abbé Georg Joseph~: In Bonn, I, 123;
engaged to compose operas in Vienna, II, 2, 4;
“Hermann von Staufen” and “Hermann von Unna,” 4, 12;
his extempore playing, 15;
his opera “Samori,” 23.

~Volbach~: I, 337.

~Volta~, Violinist: II, 125.

~Von der Recke, Countess~: II, 204, 208, 222.

~Waldstein, Count Emanuel Philip~: I, 101.

~Waldstein, Count Ferdinand Gabriel~: B’s first meeting with,
I, 93 _et seq._; 101, 102;
knighted by Max Franz, 102;
absolved from his vow of celibacy and marries, 103;
his aid to B., 103, 117;
the book of the “Ritter-Ballet,” 108, 122;
inscription in B’s album, 126;
The “Ritter-Ballet,” 133;
family connections of, 174, 244;
second marriage of, II, 111, 146; III, 24.
(See SONATA OP. 53.)

~Walkowski~: II, 305.

~Walter~: I, 355.

~Wartensee, Xaver Schneider von~: II, 381.

~Wasielewski~: I, 208.

~Wawruch, Dr.~: In attendance on B. at his last illness,
III, 273 _et seq._;
B’s dissatisfaction with him, 283;
report on B’s illness and death, 275 _et seq._

~Weber, Carl Maria von~: I, 112;
his first visit to Vienna, II, 23;
interest in Amalie Sebald, 205;
produces “Fidelio” in Dresden, III, 129;
visits B., 136 _et seq._;
“Der Freischütz,” 131, 135, 137;
“Euryanthe,” 131, 137, 139, 140.

~Weber, Dionysius~: II, 282.

~Weber, Franz Anton von~: I, 112.

~Weber, Gottfried~: Publishes letters by B., II, 183, 384;
attacks authenticity of Mozart’s “Requiem,” 235.

~Weber, Max Maria von~: III, 138.

~Weber, W.~: Sells publishing rights in Thayer’s biography
to Breitkopf and Härtel, I, xv.

~Wedding Song~: Arranged for the wedding of Princess Victoria
of England and Frederick III of Prussia, III, 13.

~Wegeler, F. G.~: His “Biographische Notizen,” I, ix, xi, 79,
89, 94, _et seq._; 99, 117;
comes to Vienna, 179;
his account of B’s status there, 180;
letters from B., 181, 182;
on B. as a lover, 182, 186;
said to have recommended B. as teacher to the Breuning family, 100;
on Count Waldstein, 102;
on B’s susceptibility to women, 122;
letters from B., 299, 301;
error in date of an important letter, 308.
--II, B. asks him to get the certificate of his baptism, 177;
publication of B’s letters, 183.
--III, 197, 214, 288, 297.

~Wegeler, Karl~: I, 96, 102, 181.

~Weigl, Joseph~, Chapelmaster and composer: I, 163;
“L’Amore marinaro,” 225;
respected by B., 241;
“Corsar aus Liebe,” 268;
the same, II, 2;
“Die Schweizerfamilie,” 2;
“Vesta’s Feuer,” 49, 279;
pallbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Weimar, Grand Duke of~: The Mass in D, III, 98;
B. contemplates a visit to, II, 198.

~Weinkopf~: Singer in first performance of “Fidelio,” II, 50.

~Weinmüller~, Bass singer: II, 267, 285, 286.

~Weiss, Franz~, Viola player: I, 170, 274; II, 125, 337.

~Weiss, Dr. Leopold~: II, 303.

~Weiss, Pater~: Attempts to cure B’s deafness, II, 96; III, 85.

~Weissenbach, Dr. Alois~: His “Reise zum Congress,” I, 263;
description of B., II, 293;
his dramas, 293;
“Der glorreiche Augenblick,” 294.

~Weissenthurm, Mme.~: I, 133.

~Werner, Zacharias~: III, 44.

~Wesley, Samuel~: II, 12.

~Westerholt, Count Friedrich Rudolph Anton~: And his family,
I, 121, 137.

~Westerholt, Fräulein~: I, 120, 121, 122.

~Westphalia.~ (See BONAPARTE, JEROME, and CASSEL.)

~Wheeler~, U. S. Consul: Interviews Julius Merz concerning the
Bettina-B. letters, II, 184, 185.

~Wieck, Friedrich~: Visits B., III, 236.

~Wild, Singer~: II, 305, 338.

~Willcox, E. S.~: I, xiii.

~Willmann, Magdalena~: I, 200, 235;
career of, 242;
receives proposal of marriage from B., 242;
marriage and death of, 243, 282, 330, 337.

~Willmann, Max~: I, 242.

~Wimpfen, Countess~: III, 110.

~Winneberger~: Chapelmaster at Wallenstein, I, 114.

~Winter~: Opera “Das unterbrochene Opferfest,” I, 227.

~Winter, Karl~: Judge of the Austrian Court of Appeals, III, 29.

~Wolanek~, Copyist: Excites B’s ire, III, 191.

~Wolf~: Opera “Das Rosenfest,” I, 32.

~Wölffl, Joseph~, Pianist: I, 214;
his playing compared with B’s, 215;
dedicates Sonata to B., 217.

~Wolfmayer, Johann Nepomuk~: Substitutes new coat for B’s old,
III, 230;
pays B. for a Requiem which is never composed, 220, 296;
torchbearer at B’s funeral, 312.

~Wranitzky, Anton~: II, 125.

~Wranitzky, Paul~: I, 165;
“Oberon,” 165;
“Das Waldmädchen,” 210.

~Würfel~, Chapelmaster: Pallbearer at B’s funeral, III, 312.

~Würth and Fellner~: Organize concerts in Vienna, II, 42.

~Wyzewa, Theodore~: I, 139.

~Yellowhammer~: Song of, in the “Pastoral” Symphony, II, 120, 121.

~Zambona~: Gives B. lessons in Latin, I, 65.

“~Zauberflöte, Die~”: Opera by Mozart, I, 164, 226, 304.

~Zeithammer, Dr. Ottokar~: The Lobkowitz cantata, II, 354.

“~Zelmira~”: Opera by Rossini, III, 20, 77.

~Zelter, Karl Friedrich~: Association with B., III, 16, 18, 104, 110.

“~Zémire et Azor~”: Opera by Grétry, I, 32, 86.

“~Zemire und Azor~”: Opera by Neefe, I, 36.

~Zenser~: Reputed to have taught organ to B., I, 64.

~Zichy, Count Stephen~: II, 98.

~Zingarelli~: Opera “Romeo and Juliet,” II, 172.

~Zitterbarth~: Buys interest in Schikaneder’s theatre, II, 22.

~Zizius, Dr. Johann~: II, 88.

~Zmeskall von Domanovecz, Nicolaus~: I, 192, 230;
his posthumous papers, 236, 273;
B. asks his aid in purchase of pianoforte, 355;
letters from B., 231; II, 88, 97, 144, 155, 174, 208,
217, 245, 246, 247, 248, 262, 271, 330, 349; II, 113, 144;
the Quartet in F minor, 193, 351;
and Mälzel’s metronome, 384 _et seq._; III, 24, 42, 288.

~Zuccalmaglio~: I, 278.

~Zulehner, Carl~: His reprints denounced by B., II, 18, 38.

Index to Compositions

(a) WORKS FOR ORCHESTRA ALONE

~Symphonies~:

No. 1, C major, Op. 21--Date of composition, I, 227, 266, 267,
272, 277, 282, 286, 290; II, 6, 39, 42;
arranged as Pf. Quintet, I, 228.

No. 2, D major, Op. 36--I, 140, 354, 364, 365, 371; II, 6, 39,
42, 73, 112, 113;
arranged as Pf. Trio, II, 40;
arranged as Quintet, II, 113.

No. 3, E-flat major, Op. 55 (“Eroica”)--I, 212; II, 14, 20, 24
_et seq._; 33, 40;
first public performances of, 42 _et seq._; 66, 67;
publication of, 77, 112, 116, 149, 369; III, 50;
arranged for Pf. Quartet, II, 113.

No. 4, B-flat major, Op. 60--II, 68, 73, 76, 101, 112, 116, 122,
123, 162, 166, 371.

No. 5, C minor, Op. 67--I, 307; II, 73, 76, 107, 109, 113, 123,
126, 127, 129, 132, 141, 162, 166, 186;
correction of error in Scherzo of, 192; 216, 250, 334, 348,
369, 379; III, 50.

No. 6, F major, Op. 68 (“Pastoral”)--I, 349, 354; II, 73, 110,
119, 120;
country musicians parodied in Scherzo, 121, 122; 127, 131,
141, 162, 166, 209, 316; III, 14, 50.

No. 7, A major, Op. 92--II, 151, 152, 166, 216;
melody of the Trio, 216; 237, 257;
Allegretto repeated at the first performance, 258; 267, 299,
311, 312, 313, 318, 319, 324, 325, 334, 337, 339, 340,
347, 348, 350, 352, 353, 356, 357, 367; III, 14, 37, 50,
144, 302.

No. 8, F major, Op. 93--II, 152, 166, 232;
the Allegretto and the canon on Mälzel, 234 _et seq._; 237,
240, 267, 268, 311, 312, 313, 318, 357, 388; III, 144.

No. 9, D minor, Op. 125 (with vocal solos and chorus)--I, xi;
trombone parts, II, 7; 73, 90, 133, 152, 378, 411, 414; III,
15, 22, 87, 95;
and the Philharmonic Society of London, 110 (see “London
Philharmonic Society” under BEETHOVEN, LUDWIG V.); 128, 132;
composition, first performance, repetition, 144 _et seq._;
origin of the theme of the Scherzo, 145;
B.’s doubts concerning the finale, 152, 153;
address to B. by his friends, 153 _et seq._;
a conspiracy to further the performance, 158, 159;
trouble about orchestra leader, 157, 160;
the solo singers, 162, 164;
rehearsals, 163;
programme of the concert, 164;
incidents of the first performance, 165 _et seq._;
financial failure and B.’s disappointment, 167;
B. upbraids his friends and dines alone, 167;
the second performance, 168 _et seq._; 170;
offer of score to Schott, 177;
offer to Probst, 178;
performed at Aix-la-Chapelle, 188;
Smart gets tempi from B., 208, 209;
the recitatives, 209, 226;
dedication, 231 _et seq._;
metronome marks, 244, 292;
the autograph manuscript, 266.

“Wellington’s Victory, or The Battle of Victoria,” Op. 91--II,
251 _et seq._; 262 _et seq._; 259, 267, 268, 271, 272, 283,
290, 299, 309, 310, 311, 312, 313, 318, 319, 324, 325, 335,
339, 340, 353, 356; III, 113, 208, 211.

“Jena”--I, 211.

Sketches for uncompleted symphonies--A “Tenth,” II, 414; III, 221
_et seq._;
in B minor, II, 310, 328;
in C minor, I, 210.

~Overtures, Ballets, Marches, Dances~, etc.:

Overture, “Coriolan,” Op. 62--II, 101, 102, 105, 112, 117, 124,
127, 133, 172, 209, 216, 268, 284.

Overture in C, Op. 124, “Consecration of the House.” (See WEIHE
DES HAUSES, under (c) Choral Works, etc.)

Overture to “Fidelio.” (See “FIDELIO.”)

Overtures, “Leonore,” Nos. 1, 2 and 3. (See “FIDELIO.”)

Overture in C, Op. 115--II, 292, 296, 302, 303, 311, 312, 313,
316, 327, 334, 335, 413; III, 50.

Overture to “König Stephan” (“King Stephen”), Op. 117--II, 208,
209, 213, 214, 218, 246, 313, 316, 334, 413; III, 57, 70, 72.

“Ritter-Ballet”--I, 108, 111, 117, 133, 142.

Ballet, “Die Geschöpfe des Prometheus” (“The Men of Prometheus”),
Op. 43--I, 280;
history of, 283 _et seq._; 290, 304, 364, 370; II, 5, 39, 52, 102,
112, 216, 356; III, 14.

Dances for the Ridotto Room--I, 188, 192, 202, 210, 211, 289.

Contradances and “Ländrische”--I, 289, 364, 365.

Écossaises (Twelve) for Strings with Wind _ad lib._--II, 113.

Écossaise for Military Band--II, 194.

“Gratulatory Minuet”--III, 64, 80, 82, 89.

Polonaise for Military Band--II, 194.

Waltzes for Strings with Wind _ad lib._--II, 113.

Waltzes, for a Country Band--III, 22.

Military March, in D--II, 356; III, 142.

Military Marches, in F--II, 160, 162, 195; III, 64, 141.

Funeral March for “Leonore Prohaska,” arranged from the Sonata
Op. 26--II, 298, 299; III, 312.

Rondino for Wind-instruments--I, 134.

Triumphal March, for Küffner’s “Tarpeja”--II, 245, 250, 259; III, 58.

Equale for Three Trombones--II, 237;
arranged for voices and sung at B.’s funeral, III, 311.

(b) INSTRUMENTAL SOLOS WITH ORCHESTRA

~Concertos~, etc.:

Allegro con brio, for Violin, in C, completed by Hellmesberger--I,
136.

For Violin, in D major, Op. 61--II, 76, 103, 104, 112, 134, 162, 166;
arranged for Pianoforte--I, 350; II, 103, 104, 112, 134.

For Pianoforte, in E-flat (Youthful)--I, 75.

For Pianoforte, in D major (Youthful)--I, 136.

For Pianoforte, in C, No. 1, Op. 15--I, 137, 177, 185, 217,
222, 224, 244, 272, 287, 289; II, 39, 90.

For Pianoforte, B-flat major, No. 2, Op. 19--I, 136, 144, 177,
184, 185, 188, 208, 217, 222, 224, 225, 226, 272, 275, 286,
287, 290, 299; II, 39; III, 50, 279.
(See RONDO IN B-FLAT.)

For Pianoforte, in C minor, No. 3, Op. 37--I, 270, 277, 364;
II, 6, 7, 30, 32, 37, 39, 42, 131.

For Pianoforte, in G major, No. 4, Op. 58--II, 56, 66, 67, 68,
73, 74, 101, 110, 131, 134.

For Pianoforte, in E-flat major, No. 5, Op. 73--II, 133, 147,
149, 150, 159, 160, 192, 199, 209, 215, 216.

For Pianoforte, Violin and Violoncello, Op. 56--II, 40, 56,
73, 80, 113, 117.

Romance for Violin, in G, Op. 40--II, 20, 25, 26; III, 59.

Romance for Violin, in F, Op. 50--I, 140; II, 25, 26, 55; III, 59.

Rondo for Pianoforte, in B-flat, completed by Czerny--I, 223.

Sketches for Pianoforte Concerto in D--II, 328.

Abschiedsgesang, for Men’s Voices--II, 303.

“Ah, perfido! spergiuro,” Scena for Soprano and Orchestra,
Op. 65--I, 143, 206, 209; II, 6, 56, 129.

Birthday Cantata for Archduke Rudolph--III, 25.

Bundeslied, for Soprano and Orch.--III, 64, 141.

Cantata on the Death of Cressener (Youthful)--I, 65.

Cantata on the Death of Joseph II--I, 130.

Cantata on the Elevation of Leopold II--I, 130, 131.

“Christus am Ölberg,” Oratorio, Op. 85--I, 143, 289, 364; II, 2;
first performance of, 5 _et seq._;
criticism of, 8, 35; 45, 52, 74, 156, 199, 204, 210, 246, 250,
309, 310, 327; III, 50, 174, 189, 208.

“Der glorreiche Augenblick,” Cantata, Op. 136--II, 294, 299, 300,
303, 305, 313, 318, 333, 339, 352.

“Egmont,” incidental music for, Op. 84--Commission for, II, 153, 166;
composition and first performance of, 171, 181, 192, 194, 197, 198;
209, 214, 216, 224, 238, 268; III, 75.

Elegiac Song, for four Voices and Strings, composed in memory of
Baroness Pasqualati, Op. 118--II, 288, 303; III, 58.

“Es ist vollbracht,” Chorus for “Die Ehrenpforten”--II, 317, 328.

Fantasia for Pianoforte, Chorus and Orchestra, Op. 80--I, 203;
II, 90, 127, 129 _et seq._; 131, 133, 136, 160, 166, 192, 199;
dedication of, 207; 209, 369, 388; III, 177.

“Fidelio,” Opera, Op. 72--I, 145, 230, 263, 320; II, 19, 20, 35, 40;
composition of, 41; 45 _et seq._;
first performance, 49 _et seq._;
criticisms, 52;
first revision of, 53, 55, 56;
repetition and revision, 57 _et seq._;
overtures, “Fidelio” and “Leonore” Nos. 1, 2 and 3, 58 _et seq._;
60, 110, 111, 278, 279;
Röckel’s account of the withdrawal of, 63;
Salieri’s advice asked and rejected, 64;
Milder-Hauptmann and the great scena, 64;
Cherubini’s opinion, 63, 64;
offered to Berlin, 64;
Pf. score offered to Breitkopf and Härtel, 66;
sketches for, 73, 100;
in Prague, 110;
revival in 1814, 263 _et seq._; 268, 273 _et seq._; 280;
publication as “Leonore,” 285 _et seq._;
Pf. score by Moscheles pirated, 283; 284, 285;
“Abscheulicher,” 285; 286, 293, 296, 303, 305, 307, 311, 313, 318,
330, 350, 351, 352, 353, 381; III, 82 _et seq._; 117;
in Dresden, 129 _et seq._; 139, 202, 288.

“Germania, wie stehst Du jetzt,” Chorus--II, 269, 277, 279, 302,
303, 317.

“Ihr weisen Gründer,” Chorus--II, 288, 292, 303.

“Leonore Prohaska,” incidental music for--II, 298, 303.

“Lob auf den Dicken,” jest on Schuppanzigh--I, 238.

Mass in C major, Op. 86--II, 107 _et seq._; 108, 112, 127, 142;
performed at Troppau, 208; 223, 238, 310; III, 103.

Mass in D major, Op. 123 (_Missa Solemnis_)--I, 320; II, 398, 411,
414;
III, 15, 21, 22, 37;
B. gets advance on, 39, 41, 42;
negotiations with Simrock, 44 _et seq._; 48, 51 _et seq._; 71,
72, 86;
history of the composition, subscription and publication,
89 _et seq._; 105;
sold to Diabelli, 107;
contract cancelled, 108;
additional numbers to, 116, 151, 162;
first performance, 164 _et seq._; 169, 174;
publication of, 177 _et seq._;
offered to Probst, 178;
sold to Schott, 177, 180;
dedication, 212, 226;
metronomic marks for, 296.

Sketches for a Mass in C-sharp minor--III, 63, 116, 117, 141.

“Meeresstille und glückliche Fahrt,” Cantata, Op. 112--II, 300,
310, 327, 328.

“Mit Mädeln sich vertragen,” Song with Orchestra. (See SONGS.)

“Mount of Olives, The.” (See “CHRISTUS AM ÖLBERG.”)

“Opferlied,” for Soprano, Chorus and Orchestra, Op. 121b--I, 203,
275, 364; III, 64.

“Praise of Music, The” and “Preis der Tonkunst.” (See “DER GLORREICHE
AUGENBLICK.”)

“Primo Amore,” Song with Orch.--III, 58.

“Prüfung des Küssens.” (See SONGS.)

“Rasch tritt der Tod,” Chorus of Monks from Schiller’s
“William Tell”--II, 365, 368, 388.

“Ruinen von Athen” (“The Ruins of Athens”), incidental music
for, Op. 113--II, 161, 201, 207, 208, 209, 213, 214, 216,
246, 249, 262, 264, 278, 311, 313, 316, 334; III, 57, 70,
71, 79, 80;
B.’s “Little opera,” 118; 189.

Airs from “Die schöne Schusterin”--I, 204, 224.

“Tremate, empj, tremate,” Terzetto with Orch., Op. 116--I, 365;
II, 6, 267, 302, 313; III, 169.

Un lieto Brindisi, for four Voices and Pf.--II, 280, 302.

“Weihe des Hauses, Die,” incidental music for;
Overture, Op. 124--II, 26; III, 57, 79, 80, 81, 89, 111, 146,
162, 165, 226;
“Wo sich die Pulse,” Chorus, III, 72, 80.

~Canons and Rounds~: “Alles Gute, alles Schöne,” III, 25;
“Ars longa” (for Hummel), II, 338;
“Airs longa” (for Smart), III, 211;
“Bester Graf,” III, 115;
“Das Schöne zu dem Guten,” III, 140, 202;
“Doktor, sperrt das Thor,” III, 200;
“Edel sei der Mensch,” III, 110, 126;
“Freu’ dich des Lebens,” III, 211;
“Gedenkt heute an Baden,” III, 90;
“Gehabt euch wohl,” III, 90;
“Glaube und hoffe,” III, 23;
“Glück fehl Dir,” II, 363;
“Glück zum neuen Jahre,” II, 328, 356; III, 21, 22;
“Grossen Dank,” III, 131;
“Hier ist das Werk,” III, 246;
“Hol’ euch der Teufel,” III, 22;
“Hoffmann, sei ja kein Hōfmann,” III, 35, 190;
“Kühl, nicht lau,” III, 204;
“Kurz ist der Schmerz” (for Naue), II, 259;
“Kurz ist der Schmerz” (for Spohr), II, 303;
“Lerne schweigen, O Freund,” II, 328, 333, 389;
“Muss es sein?”, III, 224, 244;
“O Tobias,” III, 43, 90;
“Rede, rede,” II, 328, 333;
“Sankt Petrus war ein Fels,” III, 32;
“Schwenke dich,” III, 182, 190;
“Signor Abbate,” III, 236;
“Ta, ta, ta, lieber Mälzel,” II, 234 _et seq._;
“Te solo adoro,” III, 143;
“Tugend is kein leerer Name,” III, 90.

(d) INSTRUMENTAL DUOS, TRIOS, QUARTETS, etc.

“Duet mit zwei Augengläsern,” for Viola and Violoncello--I, 205.

Duo for Clarinet and Bassoon--I, 205.

Duo, Arrangement of Trio Op. 3 for Pf. and Violoncello,
Op. 64--II, 113.

Duo for two Flutes--I, 134.

Polonaise from Serenade in D, arranged for two Violins--II, 113;
the same arranged for Violin and Guitar--II, 113.

Trios (Three) for Pf., Violin and Violoncello in E-flat, G,
and C minor, Op. 1--I, 130, 132, 137, 144, 145, 160,
175, 180, 185, 186, 208, 271; II, 326, 374, 388; III, 23, 40.

Trio for Violin, Viola and Violoncello, in E-flat, Op. 3--I,
134, 135, 145, 180, 187, 200, 204, 206, 221.

Trio in D (Serenade) for Violin, Viola and Violoncello, Op. 8--I,
202, 208; II, 113.

Trios (Three) for Violin, Viola and Violoncello, in G major,
D major and C minor, Op. 9--I, 209, 221, 225, 271; II, 77.

The same, arranged for Pf. and Strings by Ries--I, 350; II, 77.

Trio for Pf., Clarinet (or Violin) and Violoncello, in B-flat
major, Op. 11--I, 225, 244.

Trio (Serenade) for Flute, Violin and Viola, in D major.
Op. 25--I, 207, 208, 364; II, 20.

Trio for Pf., Clarinet (or Violin) and Violoncello, in E-flat,
Op. 38 (arrangement of the Septet, Op. 20)--I, 350; II, 55.

Trio for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, in E-flat, Op. 63
(arrangement of the Quintet, Op. 4, which see).

Trios (Two) for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, in D major and
E-flat, Op. 70--II, 131, 132, 141, 162; III, 207.

Trio for two Violins and Viola, in C, Op. 29 (arrangement of
the Trio for two Oboes and English Horn)--I, 206; II, 77.

Trio for two Oboes and English Horn, in C, Op. 87--I, 206;
II, 77; III, 59.

Trio for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, in B-flat, Op. 97--II,
199, 209, 219, 269, 270, 311, 312, 313, 318, 319, 325,
338, 340, 347, 350, 351, 352, 353, 357, 367; III, 136, 223.

Trios for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, arranged from the String
Quartets, Op. 18--II, 77.

Trio arranged from the Second Symphony--II, 40.

Trio for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, in E-flat (Op. posth.)--I, 136.

Trio in one Movement, for Pf., Violin and Violoncello (for Maximiliane
Brentano)--II, 221, 237; III, 136.

Trio, Adagio, Variations (on “Ich bin der Schneider Kakadu”) and
Rondo, for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, Op. 121a--III, 136.

Trio for Pf., Violin and Violoncello, in D (attributed to Mozart:
K. 52a)--I, 139.

Trio for Pf., Flute and Bassoon--I, 137.

Trio (Variations on “Là ci darem”) for two Oboes and English
Horn--I, 202, 206; III, 64.

Quartets (Six) for Strings, in F, G, D, C minor, A and B-flat,
Op. 18--I, 227, 228, 235, 272 _et seq._; 277, 279, 280,
290, 298, 307; II, 77, 89.

Quartets (Three) in F, E minor, and C, Op. 59 (“Rasoumowsky”)--II,
65, 68, 73, 75 _et seq._; 82, 97, 103, 104, 105, 133, 337.

Quartet for Strings, in E-flat, Op. 74 (“Harp”)--II, 155, 159, 160,
195, 198.

Quartet for Strings, in F minor, Op. 95--II, 172, 193, 195, 219,
311, 312, 313, 318, 339, 340, 351, 357, 364; III, 183.

Quartet for Strings, in E-flat, Op. 127--III, 140, 177, 183
_et seq._; 187, 192 _et seq._; 201, 214 _et seq._

Quartet for Strings, in B-flat, Op 130--III, 205, 214 _et seq._;
221, 222 _et seq._; 225, 237, 245.

Quartet for Strings, in C-sharp minor, Op. 131--III, 218, 225, 296,
297, 307.

Quartet for Strings, in A minor, Op. 132--III, 205, 206, 214
_et seq._; 219, 223.

Quartet for Strings, Grand Fugue (originally Finale of Op. 130)--III,
215, 223.

Quartet for Strings, in F major, Op. 135--III, 225, 237, 244, 282.

Fugue from a String Quartet in D, from a collection projected

by Haslinger--II, 389.

Quartet for Strings, arranged from Pf. Sonata Op. 14, No. 1--I, 349.

Quartets (Three) in E-flat, D and C, for Pf. and Strings, composed
in 1785--I, 88, 210.

Quartet for Strings, an arrangement of the Quintet in E-flat,
published by Artaria as Op. 75--I, 208.

Quartet in E-flat, for Pf., Violin, Viola and Violoncello,
arranged by B. from Quintet Op. 16--I, 208, 350.

Quartet (arrangement of the “Eroica” Symphony as Pf. Quartet)--II,
113.

Quintet for Strings, in E-flat, Op. 4 (an arrangement of the Octet,
Op. 103)--I, 134, 144, 187, 204.

Quintet for Pf., Oboe, Clarinet, Bassoon and Horn, in E-flat,
Op. 16--I, 200, 207, 214, 224, 290, 316, 350; II, 2, 34, 337.

Quintet for Strings, in C, Op. 29--I, 228, 293;
unauthorised publication of, 294 _et seq._; 355, 364, 368; II, 44.

Quintet for Strings, in C minor, Op. 104 (arranged from the Trio,
Op. 1, No. 3)--II, 374, 388; III, 23.

Quintet (arrangement of the First Symphony)--I, 228.

Quintet, Pf., Double-bass, Flute, Horns, etc. (arrangement of the
Second Symphony with Double-bass, Flute and 2 Horns,
ad lib.)--II, 113.

Sextet in E-flat, for Clarinets, Horns and Bassoons, Op. 71--I, 206,

207, 209; II, 41, 147, 195.

Sextet in E-flat, for Strings and Horns, Op. 81b--I, 207; II, 195.

Septet in E-flat, Op. 20--I, 209, 227, 266, 267;
B.’s dislike of it, 267;
origin of the theme of the variations, 267, 272, 275, 277, 278;
dedication, 278;
first performance, 278, 282, 286, 299, 350, 364; II, 29, 214, 316,
337, 381, 386;
arranged as Trio, I, 350; II, 55;
arranged as Quintet, I, 228, 350.

Octet for Wind Instruments, Op. 103 (the original of the Quintet
for Strings, Op. 4)--I, 132, 133, 134, 144, 184, 204.

Dinner Music for Wind Instruments--I, 134.

Parthia for Wind Instruments--I, 133, 144.

Rondino for Oboes, Clarinets, Horns and Bassoons, in E-flat--I, 134.

Sketches: For Trio in F minor--III, 136;
for quintets--III, 245.

(e) SONATAS, ETC., FOR PIANOFORTE AND OTHER INSTRUMENTS OBBLIGATO

Three Sonatas for Pf. and Violin, in D, A and E-flat, Op. 12--I, 162,
225, 226, 307.

Sonata for Pf. and Violin, in A minor, Op. 23--I, 289, 290, 307.

Sonata for Pf. and Violin, in F, Op. 24--I, 289, 290, 307.

Three Sonatas for Pf. and Violin, in A, C minor and G, Op. 30--I,
364, 365; II. 20, 305.

Sonata in A, for Pf. and Violin, Op. 47 (“Kreutzer”)--I, 140, 365;
II, 9, 13, 20, 21.

Sonata for Pf. and Violin, in G, Op. 96--II, 237, 312, 313, 319,
325, 347, 350, 353, 357, 367.

Notturno for Pf. and Viola (arranged from the Serenade, Op. 8),
Op. 42--I, 208.

Rondo for Pf. and Violin, in G--I, 179.

Sonata for Pf. and Violin (arrangement of Trio for Oboes and
Bassoon)--I, 206.

Six Allemandes for Pf. and Violin--II, 303.

Variations on “Se vuol ballare,” for Pf. and Violin--I, 132,
138, 176, 178, 179.

Sonata in B-flat for Pf. and Flute--I, 138.

Two Sonatas for Pf. and Violoncello, in F and G, Op. 5--I,
195, 200, 205.

Sonata for Pf. and Violoncello, in A, Op. 69--II, 112, 131,
132, 141, 150, 162, 218.

Duo for Pf. and Flute (arranged from Serenade, Op. 25, and
published as Op. 41)--I, 208; II, 20.

Six Variations on National Themes, for Pf. and Flute (or Violin),
Op. 105--II, 415, 416; III, 23.

Ten Variations on National Themes, for Pf. and Flute (or Violin),
Op. 107--II, 415, 416; III, 22.

Sonatina for Mandolin and Pf. (Cembalo)--I, 210, 236.

Two Sonatas for Pf. and Violoncello, in C and G, Op. 102--II, 316,
328, 338, 339, 340, 352, 357, 367, 389; III, 23.

Variations on “See the Conquering Hero Comes,” from “Judas
Maccabæus,” for Pf. and Violoncello--I, 202, 205.

Variations in E-flat, Op. 44, for Pf., Violin and Violoncello--I, 137.

Variations on “Bei Männern welche Liebe fühlen,” for Pf. and
Violoncello--I, 364.

Variations on “Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen,” for Pf. and
Violoncello--I, 226, 305.

Arrangement of Trio, Op. 3, for Pf. and Violoncello, Op. 64--II, 113.

Sonata for Pf. and Horn, Op. 17--I, 239, 244, 267, 274, 277,
279, 290; II, 39.

Sketches from “Pastoral” Sonata for Pf. and Violoncello--II, 310.

(f) FOR PIANOFORTE ALONE

Three Sonatas (No. 1, F minor; No. 2, A major; No. 3, C major),
Op. 2--I, 137, 144, 186, 192, 217.

Sonata in E-flat, Op. 7--I, 202, 209, 244, 318; II, 74.

Sonata in C minor, Op. 10, No. 1--I, 207, 210, 224, 226, 244.

Sonata in F major, Op. 10, No. 2--I, 224, 244; II, 76.

Sonata in D major, Op. 10, No. 3--I, 205, 224, 244.

Sonata in C minor, Op. 13 (“Pathétique”)--I, 209, 221, 225,
227, 307; II, 90.

Sonata in E major, Op. 14, No. 1--I, 225, 226, 244;
arranged as a String Quartet, 349, 364.

Sonata in G major, Op. 14, No. 2--I, 225, 244.

Sonata in B-flat, Op. 22--I, 277, 279, 282, 286, 299, 364.

Sonata in A-flat major, Op. 26--I, 289, 290;
story of the Funeral March, 291;
published, 364;
the Funeral March orchestrated by B., II, 298; 299; III, 312.

Sonata quasi una Fantasia, in E-flat, Op. 27, No. 1--I, 244,
280, 289, 291, 364.

Sonata quasi una Fantasia, in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2--I,
244, 289, 291, 292, 293;
dedication of, 322;
B.’s opinion of, 322; 338, 339;
published, 364.

Sonata in D major, Op. 28 (“Pastoral”)--I, 289, 292.

Sonata in G major, Op. 31, No. 1--I, 364, 365; II, 20.

Sonata in D minor, Op. 31, No. 2--I, 364, 365;
origin of the Finale, 368; II, 20.

Sonata in E-flat, Op. 31, No. 3--II, 40.

Two Sonatas, No. 1 in G minor, No. 2 in G major, Op. 49--I,
206, 209, 225, 278; II, 55.

Sonata in C major, Op. 53 (“Waldstein”)--I, 103, 140; II, 31,
37, 40, 55, 77.
(See ANDANTE FAVORI.)

Sonata in F major, Op. 54--II, 31, 40, 56, 76.

Sonata in F minor, Op. 57 (“Appassionata”)--I, 140; II, 31, 40,
73, 77, 113, 335.

Sonata in F-sharp major, Op. 78--B.’s opinion of, I, 292; 323,
336, 338; II, 148, 154, 160, 161;
dedication, 195.

Sonatina in G major, Op. 79--II, 148, 160, 161;
publication of, 195.

Sonata in E-flat, Op. 81a (“Les Adieux, l’Absence et le Retour”)--II,
143, 146, 148, 159, 160, 161, 192, 199, 200, 207, 210, 219.

Sonata in E minor, Op. 90--II, 288, 291, 303, 328.

Sonata in A major, Op. 101 (“für Hammerklavier”)--II, 328, 338,
356, 364, 365, 389, 412.

Sonata in B-flat, Op. 106--II, 376, 378, 382, 388, 389, 396, 411,
412, 413, 414, 415; III, 23, 145.

Sonata in E major, Op. 109--III, 48, 49, 90.

Sonata in A-flat, Op. 110--III, 48, 49, 90.

Sonata in C minor, Op. 111--III, 48, 49, 55, 72, 90.

Three Sonatas dedicated to Maximilian Friedrich--I, 72.

Sonata (Unfinished) sent to Eleonore von Breuning--I, 139, 140, 179.

Sonata for Pf. four hands, in D, Op. 6--I, 200, 209.

Gavotte, Marcia lugubre et Rondo, for Pf. four hands (attributed to
Mozart)--I, 139.

Grand Fugue for Pf. four hands, arranged from the Finale of the
Quartet Op. 130--III, 223, 224.

Andante favori, in F (see SONATA, Op. 53)--II, 31, 40, 77.

Allegretto in C minor (B. and H. Supplement, XXV, No. 299)--I, 210.

Bagatelles, in general--I, 261; III, 57, 62.

Bagatelles (Seven), Op. 33--I, 71, 140, 361, 362, 364, 371; II, 20.

Bagatelles, Op. 119--I, 365, 371; III, 48, 86.

Bagatelles (Six), Op. 126--III, 57, 64, 142 _et seq._

Bagatelles (B. and H. Supplement, XXV, 295)--I, 210.

“Beethoven’s letzter Gedanke” (“Dernière Pensée musicale”)--II, 415.

Écossaise in E-flat--III, 216.

Écossaises (Twelve)--II, 113; III, 216.

Fantasia, Op. 77--I, 293; II, 91, 148, 154, 160, 161, 195.

Ländler (Six)--I, 364, 365. (Also for Orchestra.)

Contradances (Six)--I, 289, 364. (Also for Orchestra.)

Marches, Three Grand, for four hands, in C, E-flat and D,
Op. 45--I, 350, 356; II, 40.

Minuet in E-flat--II, 56.

Polonaise in C, Op. 89--II, 152, 305, 328.

Preludes (Two) through all the Major Keys, for Pianoforte or
Organ, Op. 39--I, 138, 371; II, 20.

Prelude in F minor--I, 138; II, 55.

Rondos (Two) in C and G, Op. 51--I, 202, 244, 275, 277, 322, 364;
dedicated, 370.

Rondo Allegretto--I, 75.

Rondo a Capriccio (“Die Wuth über den verlornen Groschen”),
Op. 129--III, 143, 246.

Rondo in C (Youthful, anonymous)--I, 72, 140.

Variations (Six) on an Original Theme, Op. 34--I, 314, 364, 365, 370;
dedication, 368; II, 20.

Variations (Fifteen) with a Fugue, on a Theme from “Prometheus,”
Op. 35--I, 364, 365, 368, 369, 370; II, 20.

Variations in D, on a Theme used afterwards in “The Ruins of Athens,”
Op. 76--II, 148, 160, 161, 195.

Variations (Thirty-three) on a Waltz by Diabelli, Op. 120--III, 107,
108, 127 _et seq._; 147.

Variations on a Theme by Count Waldstein, in C, for four hands--I,
139, 176, 183, 184.

Variations (Nine) on a March by Dressler, in C minor--I, 69, 70, 72.

Variations (Twenty-four) on “Venni amore,” in D--I, 7, 114, 117, 138.

Variations (Thirteen) on “Es war einmal,” by Dittersdorf--I, 139, 176,
183, 184.

Variations (Nine) on “Quant è più bello,” by Paisiello, in A--I, 187.

Variations on “Nel cor più non mi sento,” by Paisiello--I, 187, 192.

Variations on the “Minuet à la Vigano”--I, 188, 192.

Variations (Twelve) on a Russian Dance from “Das Waldmädchen”--I,
200, 209, 244.

Variations (Six easy) on a Swiss Air, for Harpsichord or Harp--I, 227.

Variations on “Une fièvre brûlante,” by Grétry--I, 226, 227, 305.

Variations (Ten) on “La Stessa, la stessissima,” by Salieri--I, 227,
244, 275.

Variations (Eight) on “Tändeln und Scherzen,” by Süssmayer--I, 227.

Variations (Nine) on “Kind, willst Du?” by Winter--I, 227, 275.

Variations (Seven) on “God save the King”--I, 140, 305, 370; II, 40.

Variations on “Rule Britannia”--I, 370; II, 40.

Variations (Thirty-two) in C minor--II, 76, 113, 117.

Variations for four hands on “Ich denke Dein”--II, 55.

Variations on a Theme from “Le Nozze disturbate.” (See “MINUET
À LA VIGANO.”)

Variations on “Ich denke Dein”--I, 277, 279, 335, 362; II, 55,
147, 148.

Variations, très faciles, in G--I, 277, 279, 290.

Waltz in D--III, 216.

Waltzes (Twelve), also published for Strings and Wind--II. 113.

Cadenza for Mozart’s Concerto in D minor--I, 185.

Movement for a Clock--I, 76.

Two-part Organ Fugue in D--I, 71.

Sketches for Sonata, four hands--III, 141.

Sketches for a Concerto in D minor--II, 328.

(g) SONGS WITH PIANOFORTE ACCOMPANIMENT

Abendlied--III, 50.

Abschiedsgesang an Wiens Bürger--I, 199; II, 303.

Adelaide, Op. 46--I, 143, 202, 203, 207, 230; II, 6, 306,
338; III, 61.

Als die Geliebte sich trennen wollte--II, 72, 162.

Amante impaziente, L’--II, 160.

Andenken--II, 160, 195.

An die ferne Geliebte--II, 328, 343, 356, 357, 363; III, 32.

An die Geliebte--II, 209, 284, 303.

An die Hoffnung--II, 55, 306, 328, 338, 356; III, 20.

An einen Säugling--I, 75.

An Minna--I, 132.

Ariettes (Four) and a Duet, Italian, Op. 82--II, 160, 192, 209.

Bardengeist, Der--II, 259, 260.

Bitten--II, 20.

Blümchen Wunderhold, Das--I, 362.

Bundeslied--III, 64.

Che fa il mio bene (Buffa)--II, 209.

Che fa il mio bene (Seria)--II, 209.

Der Jüngling in der Fremde--II, 147, 148, 160, 195.

Die Trommel gerühret (See EGMONT.)

Dimmi ben mio--II, 209.

Ehre Gottes in der Natur, Die--II, 20.

Ein grosses, deutsches Volk sind wir--I, 201.

Einst wohnten (An den fernen Geliebten)--II, 148, 160, 195.

Elegie auf den Tod eines Pudels--I, 132.

Es war einmal ein König--II, 195, 363.

Feuerfarb--I, 132, 134, 137.

Freudvoll und leidvoll. (See EGMONT.)

Gedenke mein--II, 160, 195.

Gegenliebe--I, 203; II, 133.

Geheimniss, Das--II, 72, 328, 356; III, 50.

Gellert: Six Sacred Songs--“Bitten,” “Die Liebe des Nächsten,”
“Vom Tode,” “Die Ehre Gottes in der Natur,” “Gottes Macht
und Vorsehung” and “Busslied”--II, 20.

Glück der Freundschaft, Das--II, 20.

Gottes Macht--II, 20.

Gretel’s Warnung--II, 160, 195.

Herz, mein Herz--II, 191, 194, 195.

Horch, wie schallt’s (“Der Wachtelschlag”)--I, 370; II, 40.

Ich denke Dein--I, 275, 277, 279, 335; II, 55, 147, 148.

Ich, der mit flatterndem Sinn--I, 132.

Ich liebe dich--II, 20.

In questa tomba--II, 111, 113, 134.

Irish Songs (for Thomson, with obbligato instruments)--II,
70, 157, 162, 194, 238, 259, 260, 303.

Kennst du das Land--II, 186, 191, 194, 195.

Klage, Die--I, 132; II, 160.

Kleine Blumen--II, 210.

Kriegers Abschied, Des--II, 303, 328.

Kuss, Der--I, 275; III, 64, 87.

La Partenza--II, 20.

Liebe des Nächsten, Die--II, 20.

Liebende, Der--II, 148, 160, 195.

Lied aus der Ferne--II, 147, 148, 160, 195.

Lisch aus, mein Licht--II, 388, 416; III, 50.

Lydiens Untreue--II, 72.

Mailied--I, 204.

Mann von Wort, Der--II, 356, 357.

Man strebt die Flamme--I, 133.

Merkenstein--II, 303, 310, 357; III, 61.

Mit einem gemalten Bande--II, 194.

Mit Liebesblick--II, 160, 195.

Mit Mädchen sich vertragen--I, 132; III, 58.

National Songs--II, 17. (See “Irish,” “Scottish” and “Welsh.”)

No, non turbate (Scena and air)--I, 364.

Nord oder Süd--II, 386, 388, 389; III, 50.

O care selve--I, 204.

Odi l’Aura (Duet)--II, 160, 209.

Opferlied--I, 203, 275, 364; III, 64, 140, 141, 189, 202.
(See WORKS FOR CHORUS AND ORCHESTRA.)

O, welch’ ein Leben--I, 204. (See also “Die schöne Schusterin,”
under CHORAL WORKS.)

Plaisir d’aimer--I, 228.

Prüfung des Küssens--I, 131.

Punschlied--I, 133.

Que le temps (jour) me dure--I, 228.

Ruf vom Berge--II, 356, 389.

Schilderung eines Mädchens--I, 72.

Scottish Songs (Twelve)--II, 328, 416.

Scottish Songs (Twenty-five)--II, 17, 69, 190, 203, 218,
219, 259, 260; III, 50.

Sehnsucht--II, 132, 133, 194, 195, 357.

Seufzer eines Ungeliebten--I, 202, 203, 207.

Six Songs, Op. 75--II, 192, 195.

“Soll ein Schuh nicht drücken” (from “Die schöne Schusterin”)--I,
204, 224.

Three Songs, Op. 83--II, 192, 199.

T’intendo--II, 209.

Trinklied (“Erhebt das Glas”)--I, 132, 199.

Trinklied (“Lasst das Herz uns froh erheben”)--I, 199. (See
“Abschiedsgesang.”)

Trocknet nicht--II, 186, 194, 210.

Turteltaube--I, 204.

Urian’s Reise--I, 88, 132.

Wachtelschlag, Der--I, 370; II, 40.

Was ist des Maurers Ziel--I, 133.

Was zieht mir--II, 210.

Welsh Songs (with obbligato instruments)--II, 70, 157, 238, 389.

Wer ist ein freier Mann--I, 133, 204.

Zufriedene, Der--II, 148, 160, 195.

Zwar schuf das Glück--II, 148, 160, 195.

Sketches for uncompleted songs: “Erlkönig”--III, 86;
“Haidenröslein”--II, 415;
“Meine Lebenszeit verstreicht”--I, 275.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Note

Page headers in the original text have been moved above the paragraph to which they relate.

The index was printed with many punctuation errors in the index. Some
have been corrected without further note, but remaining inconsistencies
include the use of B. and B as abbreviations, reference to Volume
numbers as I or Vol. I, and use of a semi-colon or a comma after _et
seq._ Many page numbers in the index were printed out of numerical
order.

The following apparent errors have also been changed:

p. 17 "fouud" changed to "found"

p. 20 (note) "aristically" changed to "artistically"

p. 20 "A[rch-]D[uke]." changed to "A[rch-]D[uke].”"

p. 42 "the the greatest" changed to "the greatest"

p. 49 (note) "“Zweit. Beeth.”, pp. 467" changed to "“Zweit. Beeth.,”
pp. 467"

p. 60 "expecially" changed to "especially"

p. 76 "all right." changed to "all right.”"

p. 83 "to to Hensler" changed to "to Hensler"

p. 89 "cermony" changed to "ceremony"

p. 93 "disinteredness" changed to "disinterestedness"

p. 94 "contempories" changed to "contemporaries"

p. 99 "indentical" changed to "identical"

p. 104 "almost O" changed to "almost 0"

p. 128 "also fuming" changed to "was also fuming"

p. 144 "1915" changed to "1815"

p. 146 "Pianofortes Sonatas" changed to "Pianoforte Sonatas"

p. 148 "final chorus" changed to "final chorus)"

p. 150 "(nor this either" changed to "nor this either"

p. 161 "vexations" changed to "vexatious"

p. 196 "castrophe" changed to "catastrophe"

p. 215 "_31ème Quatuor." changed to "“_31ème Quatuor."

p. 219 "semblence" changed to "semblance"

p. 222 "Leibquartett" changed to "Liebquartett"

p. 224 "he, remarked" changed to "he remarked"

p. 224 "“Must it be?" changed to "“Must it be?”"

p. 227 "life, time" changed to "lifetime"

p. 239 "Schwarzspanierhaus" changed to "Schwarzspanierhause"

p. 252 "toward each," changed to "toward each"

p. 252 "solicituous" changed to "solicitous"

p. 259 "capable practioner" changed to "capable practitioner"

p. 272 "Schwarzpanierhaus" changed to "Schwarzspanierhaus"

p. 274 "has thought" changed to "has been thought"

p. 294 "ensured" changed to "ensued"

p. 304 "but Beetthoven" changed to "but Beethoven"

p. 305 (note) "farce is done.’" changed to "farce is done.’”"

p. 309 "Beethovens death" changed to "Beethoven’s death"

p. 310 "preserved." changed to "preserved.”"

p. 315 "‘~Alfred the Great~”" changed to "“~Alfred the
Great~”"

p. 316 "42," changed to "42."

p. 316 "77 wants" changed to "77; wants"

p. 316 "to, 218," changed to "to, 218."

p. 317 "104; 190" changed to "104, 190"

p. 317 "132; 134;" changed to "132, 134;"

p. 317 "103; 191" changed to "103, 191"

p. 317 "xi; 192" changed to "xi, 192"

p. 320 "368; 362" changed to "368, 362"

p. 320 "280 286" changed to "280, 286"

p. 321 "176 Matthisson" changed to "176; Matthisson"

p. 321 "344, Magdalena" changed to "344; Magdalena"

p. 321 "Rovantini I, 64" changed to "Rovantini, I, 64"

p. 322 "_et seq._; 364;" changed to "_et seq._, 364;"

p. 322 "37; 118" changed to "37, 118"

p. 323 "200; 219" changed to "200, 219"

p. 324 "“Fidelio”; II" changed to "“Fidelio”, II"

p. 324 "_et seq._; 141." changed to "_et seq._, 141."

p. 324 "3; 36;" changed to "3, 36;"

p. 324 "asked by B to" changed to "asked by B. to"

p. 324 "I, 1 _et seq._" changed to "I, 1 _et seq._;"

p. 325 "Dedication; 88;" changed to "Dedication, 88;"

p. 326 "Singer, III: 169." changed to "Singer: III, 169."

p. 326 "court, I, 29," changed to "court: I, 29,"

p. 328 "Künstler~”" changed to "Künstler~"

p. 328 "182, 202," changed to "182, 202."

p. 328 "II, 80:" changed to "II, 80;"

p. 329 "II, 127:" changed to "II, 127;"

p. 329 "teacher, 152," changed to "teacher, 152;"

p. 329 "284, 285," changed to "284, 285;"

p. 329 "teacher, 11," changed to "teacher, 11;"

p. 330 "Oratorio by by C. P. E. Bach" changed to "Oratorio by C. P. E.
Bach"

p. 332 "La finta Giardiniera”" changed to "“La finta Giardiniera”"

p. 334 "B’s visit to 89, 90;" changed to "B’s visit to, 89, 90;"

p. 334 "Mihl, 31" changed to "Mihl, I, 31"

p. 335 "I, 282," changed to "I, 282;"

p. 336 "La buona Figluola." changed to "La buona Figluola,"

p. 336 "B. plays in." changed to "B. plays in,"

p. 337 "plays the the C minor" changed to "plays the C minor"

p. 338 "Rzwuska" changed to "Rzewuska"

p. 339 "“~Seidenen Schuhe,” Die~" changed to "“~Seidenen Schuhe,
Die~”"

p. 341 "III, 77, 78; III, 161," changed to "III, 77, 78, 161,"

p. 346 "Hoffmann, sei" changed to "“Hoffmann, sei"

The following possible errors have not been changed:

p. 17 The gentleman has not eaten anything yet"

p. 122 St. Wenzelaus

p. 231 the necessity off proving

p. 231 Yours sincerly

p. 343 II, 113, 144;

The following are inconsistently used:

absentmindedness and absent-mindedness

deathbed and death-bed

Haslinger and Hasslinger

hellhound and hell-hound

Lodoïska and Lodoiska

notebook and note-book

sickbed and sick-bed

sketchbooks and sketch-books

stagecoach and stage-coach

Süssmayer and Süssmayr

Theaterzeitung and Theater-Zeitung

W.W. and W. W.

Zémire and Zemire

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume III (of 3)" ***

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