Chapter 18

Success of the Battle Music

The composer had every reason to be satisfied with the result, for not only was it pecuniarly profitable but

the applause was general and reached the highest ecstasy. Many things had to be repeated, and there was a unanimous expression of a desire on the part of all the hearers to hear the compositions again and often, and to have occasion more frequently to laud and admire our native composer for works of his brilliant invention.

So speaks the “Wiener Zeitung” on the 9th, which on the 24th of January printed this:

Note of Thanks.I had the good fortune on the occasion of a performance of my compositions at the concert given by me on January 2, to have the support and help of a large number of the most admirable and celebrated artists of the city, and to see my works brilliantly made known by the hands of such virtuosos. Though these artists may have felt themselves rewarded by their own zeal for art and the pleasure which they gave the public through their talents, it is yet my duty publicly to express to them my thanks for their mark of friendship for me and ready support.Ludwig van Beethoven.

Note of Thanks.

I had the good fortune on the occasion of a performance of my compositions at the concert given by me on January 2, to have the support and help of a large number of the most admirable and celebrated artists of the city, and to see my works brilliantly made known by the hands of such virtuosos. Though these artists may have felt themselves rewarded by their own zeal for art and the pleasure which they gave the public through their talents, it is yet my duty publicly to express to them my thanks for their mark of friendship for me and ready support.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

“Only in this room” (the large Redoutensaal), says Schindler, “was the opportunity offered to put into execution the manifold intentions of the composer in the Battle Symphony. With the help of the long corridors and the rooms opposite to each other the opposing forces were enabled to approach each other and the desired illusion was strikingly achieved.” Schindler was among the listeners on this occasion and gives assurance that the enthusiasm awakened by the performance, “heightened by the patriotic feeling of those memorable days,” was overwhelming.

Among the direct consequences of this sudden and boundless popularity of Beethoven’s music, to which Mälzel had given the occasion and impulse, was one all the more gratifying, because totally unexpected—the revival of “Fidelio.”

“The Inspizienten of the R. I. Court Opera, Saal, Vogel and Weinmüller, about this time were granted a performance for theirbenefit, the choice of a work being left to them, without cost.” There was then no opera, German, French or Italian, likely to draw a remunerative house in the repertory of the theatre, which could be produced without expense to the institution. The sensation caused by Beethoven’s new music, including the numbers from “The Ruins of Athens” in which Weinmüller had just sung, suggested “Fidelio.” All three had been in Vienna at its production and therefore knew it sufficiently to judge of its fitness for them as singers, and the probability of its now being successful; at all events the name of Beethoven would surely secure for their night a numerous audience. “Beethoven was approached for the loan of the opera,” says Treitschke, who had this year been re-appointed stage-manager and poet at the Kärnthnerthor-Theater after having been employed some years at the Theater-an-der-Wien, “and very unselfishly declared his willingness, but on the unequivocal condition that many changes be made.”

At the same time he proposed my humble self as the person to make these changes. I had enjoyed his more intimate friendship for some time, and my twofold position as stage-manager and opera-poet made his wish a pious duty. With Sonnleithner’s permission I first took up the dialogue, wrote it almost wholly anew, succinct and clear as possible—an essential thing in the case ofSingspiele.

Treitschke’s Revision of “Fidelio”

The principal changes made by Treitschke were, by his own account, these:

The scene of the entire first act was laid in an open court; the positions of Nos. 1 and 2, were exchanged; later the guard entered to a newly composed march;Leonore’sAir received a new introduction, and only the last movement, “O du, für den ich alles trug,” was retained. The succeeding scene and duet—according to Seyfried’s description “a charming duettino for soprano voices with concertante parts for violin and violoncello, C major, 6/8 time”—which was in the old book, Beethoven tore out of the score; the former (he said) was unnecessary, the latter a concert-piece; I was compelled to agree with him; the purpose in view was to save the opera as a whole. A little terzetto forRocco,MarcellineandJacquinowhich followed (“a most melodious terzetto in E-flat” as Seyfried says) fared no better. There had been a want of action and the music did not warm the hearers. A new dialogue was desired to give more occasion for the first finale. My friend was again right in demanding a different ending. I made many plans; at length we came to an agreement: to bring together the return of the prisoners at the command ofPizarroand their lamentation.The second act offered a great difficulty at the very outset. Beethoven at first wanted to distinguish poorFlorestanwith an aria, but I offered the objection that it would not be possible to allow a man nearly dead of hunger to sing bravura. We composed one thing andanother; at last, in my opinion, I hit the nail on the head. I wrote words which describe the last blazing up of life before its extinguishment:“Und spür’ ich nicht linde, sanft säuselnde Luft,Und ist nicht mein Grab mir erhellet?Ich seh’, wie ein Engel, in rosigem Duft,Sich tröstend zur Seite mir stellet.Ein Engel, Leonoren, der Gattin so gleich!Der führt mich zur Freiheit,—ins himmlische Reich!”What I am now relating will live forever in my memory. Beethoven came to me about seven o’clock in the evening. After we had discussed other things, he asked how matters stood with the aria? It was just finished, I handed it to him. He read, ran up and down the room, muttered, growled, as was his habit instead of singing—and tore open the pianoforte. My wife had often vainly begged him to play; to-day he placed the text in front of him and began to improvise marvellously—music which no magic could hold fast. Out of it he seemed to conjure the motive of the aria. The hours went by, but Beethoven improvised on. Supper, which he had purposed to eat with us, was served, but—he would not permit himself to be disturbed. It was late when he embraced me, and declining the meal, he hurried home. The next day the admirable composition was finished.

The second act offered a great difficulty at the very outset. Beethoven at first wanted to distinguish poorFlorestanwith an aria, but I offered the objection that it would not be possible to allow a man nearly dead of hunger to sing bravura. We composed one thing andanother; at last, in my opinion, I hit the nail on the head. I wrote words which describe the last blazing up of life before its extinguishment:

“Und spür’ ich nicht linde, sanft säuselnde Luft,Und ist nicht mein Grab mir erhellet?Ich seh’, wie ein Engel, in rosigem Duft,Sich tröstend zur Seite mir stellet.Ein Engel, Leonoren, der Gattin so gleich!Der führt mich zur Freiheit,—ins himmlische Reich!”

What I am now relating will live forever in my memory. Beethoven came to me about seven o’clock in the evening. After we had discussed other things, he asked how matters stood with the aria? It was just finished, I handed it to him. He read, ran up and down the room, muttered, growled, as was his habit instead of singing—and tore open the pianoforte. My wife had often vainly begged him to play; to-day he placed the text in front of him and began to improvise marvellously—music which no magic could hold fast. Out of it he seemed to conjure the motive of the aria. The hours went by, but Beethoven improvised on. Supper, which he had purposed to eat with us, was served, but—he would not permit himself to be disturbed. It was late when he embraced me, and declining the meal, he hurried home. The next day the admirable composition was finished.

Concerning this air, Röckel writes:

Measurably to satisfy the newFlorestan(the Italian Radichi), who wanted to be applauded after his air, which was not possible nor fitting to the situation nor desirable after thepianissimoconclusion ofFlorestan’sair with thecon sordinoaccompaniment of the violins, without writing a new air, Beethoven cut the Adagio in two and concluded with an Allegro in the high register of the singer; but as the noise of applause would not have been increased byRoccoandFidelio, who enter at this moment to dig a grave for the supposedly dead man, the composer concluded the noisy Allegro with a coda for the orchestra ending with a newpianissimo, by which device the silence essential to the succeeding scene was again restored.

Treitschke continues:

Nearly all the rest in the second act was confined to abbreviations and changes in the poetry. I think that a careful comparison of the two printed texts will justify my reasons. The grandiose quartet: “Er sterbe,” etc., was interrupted by me with a short pause during whichJacquinoand other persons report the arrival of theMinisterand make the accomplishment of the murder impossible by summoningPizarroaway. After the next duetRoccocomes and accompaniesFlorestanandLeonoreto theMinister.

At this point, Treitschke avoided what had always appeared to him to be “a great fault”—namely, that the dungeon was the scene of the entire second act—by introducing a change in the scenery so that the conclusion should be “in full daylight upon a bright green courtyard of the palace.”

Before the middle of February the alterations to be made were determined by musician and poet, and each began his task; both were hindered by frequent interruptions, and its completion deferred.[116]

Beethoven’s attention to it was immediately called away by the concert of which these two notes speak:

No. I.(To Brunswick.)Vienna, February 13, 1814. Dear friend and brother! You wrote to me recently, I write to you now—you no doubt rejoice over all victories—also over mine—on the 27th of this month I shall give a second concert in the large Ridotto Room—Come up—You know it now. Thus I am gradually rescuing myself from my misery, for from my salaries I have not yet received a penny.[117]Schuppanzigh has written to Michalcovics[118]whether it would be worth while to come to Ofen; what do you think? Of course such a thing would have to take place in a theatre. My opera is going to be performed, but I am writing much of it over. I hope you are living contentedly, that is not a little, so far as I am concerned, good heavens, my kingdom is in the air, like the wind the tones often whirl in my soul—I embrace you.

No. I.(To Brunswick.)

Vienna, February 13, 1814. Dear friend and brother! You wrote to me recently, I write to you now—you no doubt rejoice over all victories—also over mine—on the 27th of this month I shall give a second concert in the large Ridotto Room—Come up—You know it now. Thus I am gradually rescuing myself from my misery, for from my salaries I have not yet received a penny.[117]Schuppanzigh has written to Michalcovics[118]whether it would be worth while to come to Ofen; what do you think? Of course such a thing would have to take place in a theatre. My opera is going to be performed, but I am writing much of it over. I hope you are living contentedly, that is not a little, so far as I am concerned, good heavens, my kingdom is in the air, like the wind the tones often whirl in my soul—I embrace you.

No. II.(To Archduke Rudolph.)I hope for pardon for my non-attendance. Your displeasure would punish me when I am innocent; in a few days I will make it all up. They intend to perform my opera “Fidelio” again. This gives me a great deal of work, and despite my healthy appearance I am not well. For my second concert the arrangements have been made in part, I must compose something new for Milder in it. Meanwhile I hear, and it is comforting to me, that Y. I. H. is in better health,[119]I hope, unless I amflattering myself too much, soon again to contribute to it. In the meantime I have taken the liberty to inform my Lord Falstaff[120]that he will soon graciously be permitted to appear before Y. I. H.

No. II.(To Archduke Rudolph.)

I hope for pardon for my non-attendance. Your displeasure would punish me when I am innocent; in a few days I will make it all up. They intend to perform my opera “Fidelio” again. This gives me a great deal of work, and despite my healthy appearance I am not well. For my second concert the arrangements have been made in part, I must compose something new for Milder in it. Meanwhile I hear, and it is comforting to me, that Y. I. H. is in better health,[119]I hope, unless I amflattering myself too much, soon again to contribute to it. In the meantime I have taken the liberty to inform my Lord Falstaff[120]that he will soon graciously be permitted to appear before Y. I. H.

The “Wiener Zeitung” of February 24th contains the advertisement of the “Akademie, next Sunday, the 27th inst. in the large Redoutensaal,” announcing “a new symphony not yet heard and an entirely new as yet unheard terzetto” as novelties. To Hummel, Beethoven now wrote:

I beg of you conduct this time again the drumheads and cannonades with your admirable chapelmaster and field-marshall’s bâton—do it, I beg of you, and if ever I am wanted to cannonade you, I shall be at your service body and soul.

“Wellington’s Victory” Repeated

The report in the “Allg. Mus. Zeit.” contains the programme in full with a few short and pertinent observations:

1. The new symphony (A major) which was received with so much applause, again. The reception was as animated as at the first time; the Andante (A minor) the crown of modern instrumental music, as at the first performance had to be repeated.2. An entirely new Italian terzetto (B-flat major) beautifully sung by Mad. Milder-Hauptmann, Hrn. Siboni and Hrn. Weinmüller, is conceived at the outset wholly in the Italian style, but ends with a fiery Allegro in Beethoven’s individual style. It was applauded.3. An entirely new, hitherto unheard symphony (F major, ¾ time). The greatest interest of the listeners seemed centered on this, thenewestproduct of B’s muse, and expectation was tense, but this was not sufficiently gratified after the single hearing, and the applause which it received was not accompanied by that enthusiasm which distinguishes a work which gives universal delight; in short—as the Italians say—it did not create a furore. This reviewer is of the opinion that the reason does not lie by any means in weaker or less artistic workmanship (for here as in all of B’s works of this class there breathes that peculiar spirit by which his originality always asserts itself); but partly in the faulty judgment which permitted this symphony to follow that in A major, partly in the surfeit of beauty and excellence which must necessarily be followed by a reaction. If this symphony should be performedalonehereafter, we have no doubt of its success.4. At the close, “Wellington’s Victory in the battle of Vittoria” was given again, the first part, the Battle, having to be repeated. The performance left nothing to be desired; and the attendance was again very large.

2. An entirely new Italian terzetto (B-flat major) beautifully sung by Mad. Milder-Hauptmann, Hrn. Siboni and Hrn. Weinmüller, is conceived at the outset wholly in the Italian style, but ends with a fiery Allegro in Beethoven’s individual style. It was applauded.

3. An entirely new, hitherto unheard symphony (F major, ¾ time). The greatest interest of the listeners seemed centered on this, thenewestproduct of B’s muse, and expectation was tense, but this was not sufficiently gratified after the single hearing, and the applause which it received was not accompanied by that enthusiasm which distinguishes a work which gives universal delight; in short—as the Italians say—it did not create a furore. This reviewer is of the opinion that the reason does not lie by any means in weaker or less artistic workmanship (for here as in all of B’s works of this class there breathes that peculiar spirit by which his originality always asserts itself); but partly in the faulty judgment which permitted this symphony to follow that in A major, partly in the surfeit of beauty and excellence which must necessarily be followed by a reaction. If this symphony should be performedalonehereafter, we have no doubt of its success.

4. At the close, “Wellington’s Victory in the battle of Vittoria” was given again, the first part, the Battle, having to be repeated. The performance left nothing to be desired; and the attendance was again very large.

The “something new for Milder” resulted in something rather old; for the terzetto in which she sang was the “Tremate, empj, tremate,” fully sketched in 1801-1802, but now first written out and completed in its present form.

Schindler discovered among Beethoven’s papers, and has communicated substantially in his book, certain accounts of expenses incurred in this concert. Only the Eighth Symphony and the terzetto had to be copied; for these “the specification amounted in total: 452 written pages at 12 kreutzers, makes 90 florins, 24 kr.; the specified cost of the orchestra alone at this concert amounted to 344 florins. Nevertheless, only 7 first violinists and only 6 seconds who were paid some 5 some 7 fl. are mentioned by name, because in each part twice as many dilettanti had played.” One of Beethoven’s own memoranda gives the exact number of the string instruments: “At my last concert in the large Ridotto-room there were 18 first violins, 18 second, 14 violas, 12 violoncellos, 17 contra-basses, 2 contra-bassoons.” Whether the audience numbered 5000, as Schindler reports, or 3000, which is more likely, the clear pecuniary profits of the two concerts were very large. Czerny remembered that on this occasion the Eighth Symphony “by no means pleased” and Beethoven was angry thereat, “because it is much better,” he said. Another of his reminiscences is that Beethoven “often related with much pleasure how, when walking on the Kahlenberg after the performance of the Eighth Symphony, he got some cherries from a couple of girls and when he asked the price of one of them, she replied: ‘I’ll take nothing from you. We saw you in the Ridotto-room when we heard your beautiful music.’”

The University Law Students had a composition by Beethoven on the programme of their concert, on February 12; the Medical Students opened their concert, March 6, with the “Egmont” Overture; and the Regiment Deutschmeister, theirs of March 25 with that to “Coriolan”; with these concerts Beethoven had nothing to do; but in the Annual Spring “Akademie,” March 25, in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater for the Theatre Poor Fund, he conducted the “Egmont” Overture and “Wellington’s Victory.”

Both poet and composer had now been again delayed in their “Fidelio” studies, in this wise: The French Armies had so often taken possession of the capitals of the various Continental states, that the motives are inconceivable, which induced Schwarzenberg to restrain the approach of the allied armies on Paris, until Blücher’s persistence, enforced by his victories, at last compelled the Commander-in-Chief to yield the point. When this became known in Vienna, it was determined to celebrate the event, so soon as news of it should arrive, by an appropriate performance in the Court Opera. To this end, Treitschke wrote aSingspielin one act entitled “Gute Nachricht” (“Good News”). Of the ninepieces of music in it, the overture was given to Hummel and the concluding chorus, “Germania, wie stehst du jetzt im Glanze da,” to Beethoven.

In a note to Treitschke, called out by the proposed changes in the scenery of “Fidelio,” Beethoven wrote:

The arrival of the Spaniards, which is only suggested in the play, not visibly presented, might be utilized for the multitude to open the big hole of the Wiedener Theatre [the stage]—and there might be a good deal of spectacle besides and the music would not be wholly lost, and I should willingly add something new if it were asked.

Towards the end of March, Beethoven received the new text to “Fidelio.” To Treitschke he wrote: “I have read your amendments to the opera with great pleasure; they determine me to rebuild the ruins of an old castle.” A letter to the poet refers again to the chorus which he had composed for Treitschke’sSingspiel:

I beg you, dear T., to send me the score of the song so that the interpolated note may be written into all the instruments—I shall not take it at all amiss if you have it newly composed by Gyrowetz or anybody else—preferably Weinmüller—I make no pretensions in the matter, but I will not suffer that any man—no matter who he may be—change my compositions.

First Performance of the Trio in B-flat

Beethoven’s attention was now again called away from the opera by a concert in the hall of the Hotel zum Römischen Kaiser, arranged by the landlord and Schuppanzigh for a military charity. Czerny relates that a new grand trio had then for some time been a subject of conversation among Beethoven’s friends, though no one had heard it. This work, Op. 97, in B-flat major, was to open the second part of the concert and the composer had consented to play in it. Spohr was by chance in Beethoven’s rooms at one of the rehearsals and heard him play—the only time. “It was not a treat,” he writes:

for, in the first place, the pianoforte was badly out of tune, which Beethoven minded little, since he did not hear it; and secondly, there was scarcely anything left of the virtuosity of the artist which had formerly been so greatly admired. Infortepassages the poor deaf man pounded on the keys till the strings jangled, and inpianohe played so softly that whole groups of tones were omitted, so that the music was unintelligible unless one could look into the pianoforte part. I was deeply saddened at so hard a fate. If it is a great misfortune for any one to be deaf, how shall a musician endure it without giving way to despair? Beethoven’s continual melancholy was no longer a riddle to me.[121]

The concert took place at noon on Monday, April 11. Moscheles was present and wrote in his diary:

In the case of how many compositions is the word “new” misapplied! But never in Beethoven’s, and least of all in this, which again is full of originality. His playing, aside from its intellectual element, satisfied me less, being wanting in clarity and precision; but I observed many traces of thegrandstyle of playing which I had long recognized in his compositions.

In those days a well-to-do music-lover, named Pettenkofer, gathered a number of young people into his house every Saturday for the performance of instrumental music. One evening a pupil of Schuppanzigh’s requested his neighbor at the music-stand, a youth of 18 years, to take a note from his teacher next day to Beethoven, proposing a rehearsal of the Trio, and requiring no answer but “yes” or “no.” “I undertook the commission with joy,” he records:

The desire to be able to stand for even a moment beside the man whose works had for several years inspired me with the greatest reverence for their author, was now to be so unexpectedly and strangely realized. The next morning the bearer of the note, with beating heart, climbed the four flights in the Pasqualati house, and was at once led by the sartorial servant to the writing table of the master. After he had read the missive, he turned to me and said “Yes”; with a few rapidly added questions the audience came to an end; but at the door I permitted myself to tarry a little while to observe the man, who had already resumed his writing, closely.

This youth was Anton Schindler. He continues his narrative:

This, almost the most important event in the life-history of the poor student up to that time, was soon followed by the acquaintanceship of Schuppanzigh. He gave me a ticket for the concert of April 11, given by him.... On this occasion I approached the great master with more confidence, and greeted him reverently. He answered pleasantly and showed that he remembered the carrier of the note.

And thus ended all personal intercourse between Schindler and Beethoven until the end of the year—a fact to be noted.

A few weeks later Beethoven played in the Trio again at a morning concert of Schuppanzigh’s in the Prater, and thus—excepting once accompanying a song—he took leave of the public as a pianist.

“Gute Nachricht” was first played also on the evening of Monday, April 11; for the news of the triumphal entry of the allied armies (March 31), as Moscheles records in his diary, reached Vienna the day before. It was repeated on the 12th, 14th, 17th,24th and May 3rd, in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater, and on June 11th and 14th in the Burg.

Meantime an event had occurred, the effect of which on Beethoven is nowhere indicated; but let us hope and believe that it, for the moment, unfitted him for labor—Prince Carl Lichnowsky, his old friend and protector, died April 15. It is gratifying that the last notice of him in our work is that touching reminiscence by Schindler, which proves that time had neither cooled nor diminished the warm affection that he had conceived twenty years before for the young Bonn pianist.

The following note to Zmeskall was written about this time:

Dear Z.: I am not going on the journey, at least I am not going to hurry—the matter must be pondered more carefully—meanwhile the work has already been sent to the Prince Regent:—If I am wanted I can be had, and thenlibertyremains with me to sayyesorno. Liberty!!! What more do I want???I should like to consult with you about how to settle myself in my lodging.

I should like to consult with you about how to settle myself in my lodging.

This new lodging, for which Beethoven now left the Pasqualati house, was in the 1st storey of the Bartenstein house, also on the Mölker Bastei (No. 96); so that he still remained in the immediate vicinity of his friends, Princess Christine Lichnowsky and the Erdödys.

Beethoven Quarrels with Mälzel

The other matters mentioned in the note call our attention again to Mälzel, who, notwithstanding his bitter disappointment at the turn which his affairs with Beethoven had taken, had still lingered in Vienna several weeks in the hope of making some kind of amicable arrangement with him. As his side of the story was never made public, there is little to add to the information on the subject contained in the papers of Beethoven, preserved by Schindler. From them these facts appear; that Beethoven repaid the fifty ducats of borrowed money; that Mälzel and he had several interviews at the office of the lawyer, Dr. Adlersburg, which had for their subject the “Battle of Vittoria” and the journey to England; that he made various propositions which Beethoven would not accept “to get the work, or at least the right of first performance for himself,” and the like; that, incensed by the conduct of the composer and hopeless of benefit from any farther consultation, he did not appear at the last one appointed; and that he obtained by stealth so many of the single parts of the “Battle” as to be enabled therefrom to have a pretty correct score of the work written out, with which he departed to Munich and there produced it in two concerts on the 16th and 17th of March.

When this became known in Vienna[122]Beethoven’s wrath was excited and, instead of treating the matter with contemptuous silence, or at most making an appeal to the public in the newspapers, he committed the absurdity of instituting a lawsuit against a man already far on his way to the other extremity of Europe, at the same time in all haste preparing a copy of the “Battle” and sending it to the Prince Regent of England, that at least he might prevent Mälzel from producing it there as a novelty. It was a costly and utterly useless precaution; for, on the one hand, Mälzel found in London no inducement to attempt orchestral concerts, and on the other, the score sent by Beethoven lay buried in the library of the Prince, who neither then nor ever took the slightest notice of it (except to permit its performance, as we shall presently see) or made any acknowledgment to the composer.

Documents in the Mälzel Case

Casting aside all extraneous matter contained in Beethoven’s documents, the real question at issue is very clear. The two leading facts—one of which is admitted by implication, and the other explicitly stated by Beethoven himself—are already known to the reader: First, that the plan of the work was Mälzel’s; second, that the composer wrought it out for the Panharmonicon gratis. In this form, therefore, the composition beyond all doubt was Mälzel’s property. There was, therefore, but one point to be decided: Did the arrangement of the work for orchestra at Mälzel’s suggestion and request, transfer the proprietorship? If it did, Beethoven had a basis for his suit; if it did not, he had none. This question was never decided; for after the process had lingered through several years, the two men met, made peace, Beethoven withdrew his complaint, and each paid the half of all expenses that had been incurred![123]

Thus had been caused a new interruption of the work on “Fidelio.”

“The beneficiaries,” says Treitschke, “urged its completion to take advantage of the favorable season; but Beethoven made slow progress. To one of the poet’s notes urging haste, Beethoven wrote, probably in April:

The damned Academy, which I was compelled to give partly by my bad circumstances, has set me back so far as the opera is concerned.The cantata which I wanted to give robbed me of 5 or 6 days.Now, of course, everything must be done at once and I could write something new more quickly than add new things to old—I am accustomed in writing, even in my instrumental music—to keep the whole in view, but here my whole, has—in a manner—been distributed everywhere and I have got to think myself back into my work ever and anon—it is not likely that it will be possible to give the opera in a fortnight, I think that it will be 4 weeks.Meanwhile the first act will be finished in a few days—but there remains much to do in the 2nd Act, and also a new overture, which willbe the easiest because I can compose it entirely new. Before my Academy a few things only were sketched here and there, in the first as well as the second act, it was not until a few days ago that I could begin to write the matters out. The score of the opera is as frightfully written as any that ever I saw, I had to look through note after note (it is probably a pilfered one) in short I assure you, dear T. the opera will secure for me the crown of martyrdom, if you had not given yourself so much pains with it and revised everything so successfully, for which I shall be eternally grateful to you, I could scarcely be able to force myself (to do the work). You have thereby saved some good remainders of a stranded ship.If you think that the delay with the opera will be too long, postpone it till some future time, I shall go ahead now until everything is ended, and just like you have changed and improved it, which I see more and more clearly every moment, but it cannot go so fast as if I were composing something new—and in 14 days that is impossible—do as you think best, but as a friend of mine, there is no want of zeal on my part.Your Beethoven.

The damned Academy, which I was compelled to give partly by my bad circumstances, has set me back so far as the opera is concerned.

The cantata which I wanted to give robbed me of 5 or 6 days.

Now, of course, everything must be done at once and I could write something new more quickly than add new things to old—I am accustomed in writing, even in my instrumental music—to keep the whole in view, but here my whole, has—in a manner—been distributed everywhere and I have got to think myself back into my work ever and anon—it is not likely that it will be possible to give the opera in a fortnight, I think that it will be 4 weeks.

Meanwhile the first act will be finished in a few days—but there remains much to do in the 2nd Act, and also a new overture, which willbe the easiest because I can compose it entirely new. Before my Academy a few things only were sketched here and there, in the first as well as the second act, it was not until a few days ago that I could begin to write the matters out. The score of the opera is as frightfully written as any that ever I saw, I had to look through note after note (it is probably a pilfered one) in short I assure you, dear T. the opera will secure for me the crown of martyrdom, if you had not given yourself so much pains with it and revised everything so successfully, for which I shall be eternally grateful to you, I could scarcely be able to force myself (to do the work). You have thereby saved some good remainders of a stranded ship.

If you think that the delay with the opera will be too long, postpone it till some future time, I shall go ahead now until everything is ended, and just like you have changed and improved it, which I see more and more clearly every moment, but it cannot go so fast as if I were composing something new—and in 14 days that is impossible—do as you think best, but as a friend of mine, there is no want of zeal on my part.

Your Beethoven.

Rehearsals for the Revised “Fidelio”

The repetitions of the “Gute Nachricht” came to a conclusion with the performance in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater onMay 3, and the beneficiaries became more and more impatient. Hence, Treitschke wrote again to Beethoven, asked him what use was to be made of the chorus “Germania,” and urged him to make haste with the work on “Fidelio.” Notwithstanding so much was wanting, the rehearsals had begun in the middle of April, and the performance was now fixed for the 23rd of May. Beethoven’s memorandum of his revisal of the opera reads: “The opera Fidelio [?] March to 15th of May, newly written and improved.” May 15th was Sunday, the “Tuesday” of his answer to Treitschke was therefore the 17th, and the date, doubtless, about the 14th:

Your satisfaction with the chorus delights me infinitely. I was of the opinion that you ought to apply all the works toyour profitandtherefore mine also, but if you do not want to do this I should like to have you sell it outright for thebenefit of the poor.Your copyists —— [illegible] and Wranitzky were here yesterday about the matter, I told them, most worthy man, that you were entiremasterin the affair. For this reason I await now your frank opinion—your copyist is—an ass!—but he is completely lacking in the well-known splendidEselshaut[124]—therefore my copyist has undertaken the work of copying, andby Tuesday little will remain to be done, and my copyist will bring everything to the rehearsal. As for the rest the whole matter of the opera is the most wearisome thing in the world, and I am dissatisfied with most of it—and—there is hardly a piece in it to which inmy present state of dissatisfactionI ought not to have patched onsome satisfaction. That is the great difference between being able to surrender to free reflection or enthusiasm.Wholly your Beethoven.

Your copyists —— [illegible] and Wranitzky were here yesterday about the matter, I told them, most worthy man, that you were entiremasterin the affair. For this reason I await now your frank opinion—your copyist is—an ass!—but he is completely lacking in the well-known splendidEselshaut[124]—therefore my copyist has undertaken the work of copying, andby Tuesday little will remain to be done, and my copyist will bring everything to the rehearsal. As for the rest the whole matter of the opera is the most wearisome thing in the world, and I am dissatisfied with most of it—and—there is hardly a piece in it to which inmy present state of dissatisfactionI ought not to have patched onsome satisfaction. That is the great difference between being able to surrender to free reflection or enthusiasm.

Wholly your Beethoven.

“The final rehearsal,” says Treitschke, “was on May 22d, but the promised new overture was still in the pen of the creator.” It was then, on the 20th or 21st, that Beethoven dined with his friend Bertolini in the Römischer Kaiser. After dinner he took a bill of fare, drew lines on the blank side and began to write. “Come, let us go,” said Bertolini; “No, wait a little; I have the idea for my overture,” replied Beethoven, who remained and finished his sketches then and there. Treitschke continues:

The orchestra was called to rehearsal on the morning of the performance. B. did not come. After waiting a long time we drove to his lodgings to bring him, but—he lay in bed, sleeping soundly, beside him stood a goblet with wine and a biscuit in it, the sheets of the overture were scattered on the bed and floor. A burnt-out candle showed that he had worked far into the night. The impossibility of completing the overture was plain; for this occasion his overture to “Prometheus” [?]was taken and the announcement that because of obstacles which had presented themselves the new overture would have to be dispensed with to-day, enabled the numerous audience to guess the sufficient reason.

Schindler says an overture to “Leonore,” Seyfried the overture to “The Ruins of Athens,” was played on this occasion. The “Sammler” in its contemporary notice confirms Seyfried: “The overture played at the first performance does not belong to the opera and was originally written for the opening of the theatre at Pesth.” In 1823, Beethoven in conversation happened to speak of this substitution and remarked: “The people applauded, but I stood ashamed; it did not belong to the rest.” In the manuscript book of the text prepared for use in the theatre on this occasion, one is surprised to see the title begun thus:

“Leonore, FidelioAn Opera in Two Acts, etc.”

The word “Leonore” is crossed out and “Fidelio” written at the side in red pencil afterwards inked over. There was then on the part of some one—whom?—an intention subsequently abandoned, of thus changing the title. Again, in the list of “properties,” stands

and the same name occurs in the list of the

Dramatis Personæ

Herr SaalDon Fernando, minister.Herr VogelDon Pizarro, Governor of a State’s prison.Herr RadichiFlorestan, a prisoner.M. HönigLeonore, his wife, under the name of Fidelio.Hr. WeinmüllerRokko, jailer.Mlle. BondraMarzelline, his daughter.Hr. FrühwaldJaquino.Prisoners of State, etc., etc.

Madame Hönig was a new soprano, engaged after the “Hoftheater-Taschenbuch” for 1814 had been printed, whose name appears in that for 1815. Though appointed to the part when this text-book was copied, she gave place before the day of performance to the originalFidelio, Mme. Milder-Hauptmann.

The opera was capitally prepared (says Treitschke), Beethoven conducted, his ardor often rushed him out of time, but ChapelmasterUmlauf, behind his back, guided everything to success with eye and hand.[125]The applause was great and increased with every representation.

“Herr v. B.,” says the “Sammler,” “was stormily called out already after the first act, and enthusiastically greeted.” The opera was first repeated on the 26th, when the new overture in E major “was received with tumultuous applause and the composer again called out twice at this repetition.”

The chorus “Germania,” in pianoforte arrangement, was published in June “im K. K. Hoftheater-Verlag.” A characteristic note of Beethoven to Treitschke asks for the manuscript for the purpose of correcting the proof and introduces to our acquaintance a personage or two, who will often meet us henceforth to the end, and therefore merit a short personal paragraph here.

Tobias Haslinger Becomes Music Publisher

The “K. K. Priv. Chemische Druckerey,” the property of Rochus Krasinzky and Sigmund Anton Steiner, passed about 1810 into the hands of Steiner alone. In that year Tobias Haslinger (of Zell in Upper Austria), who had been one of Chapelmaster Glöggl’s singing-boys at Linz and assistant in his music-shop, came to Vienna with the design of establishing himself in business, and there soon became acquainted with Steiner. He detailed to him his purposes and plans and induced him to withdraw his prints and other wares from Grund’s bookstore in the Singerstrasse, and open a shop of his own in the narrow passage then existing at the northeast corner of the Graben, known as the “Paternoster-Gassel,” employing him (Haslinger) as bookkeeper and manager; from which position he soon rose to be partner in the firm, “S. A. Steiner and Co.” Beethoven conceived an odd and whimsical liking for the young man, and in a few years his relations to the firm became very much the same as those which formerly existed between him and the “Kunst- und Industrie-Comptoir.” Haslinger had learned divers instruments in Linz, had begun the study of composition there and continued it in Vienna. His Opus 10, “Ideal einer Schlacht,” for the pianoforte, had just been published—the subject of Homeric laughter to Jupiter-Beethoven and theother gods. He made his place of business attractive and it became a favorite resort of composers, musicians, singers, writers for the theatre, the public press, and the like. In his correspondence with the firm Beethoven was “Generalissimus”; Steiner “Lieutenant-General”; Haslinger “Adjutant” or rather “Adjutanterl” (the diminutive of Adjutant); their assistants were “Subalterns”; and the shop, “Office of the Lieutenant-General.” These titles make their appearance in a note, typical of many, written to Treitschke:

The thoughts and endeavors (Dichten und Trachten) of Hr. v. Treitschke are directed to the duty of immediately delivering the manuscript to the subaltern of the Lieutenant-General’s office, so that the engraved page scratched full of errors may immediately be rescratched as it ought to be, and, indeed, all the more, as otherwise the thoughts and endeavors will be frightfully scratched and beaten.Given in Paternoster Lane, at the primitive publishing house of all who publish. June 4, 1814.[126]

Given in Paternoster Lane, at the primitive publishing house of all who publish. June 4, 1814.[126]

One of Beethoven’s minor productions (still unpublished) was now composed for his friend Bertolini. The occasion was an evening festival arranged by the doctor at his own expense on the name-day (St. John’s day) and in honor of Malfatti. It was a little piece for four voices with pianoforte accompaniment to a text written by Abbate Bondi:

Un lieto brindisiTutti a Giovanni,Cantiam così, così,Viva longhi anni, etc., etc.

Invitations were extended not only to Malfatti’s relatives and personal friends but to a large number of artists of the various professions, resident or temporarily in Vienna—Dragonetti among the musicians. The scene was Malfatti’s villa in Weinhaus. There they feasted; the wine flowed; the cantata was sung; Beethoven, “thoroughly unbuttoned,” improvised; fun and frolic ruled the hour. “The sport cost me a few hundred florins,” laughingly said the good doctor fifty years afterwards.

“Fidelio” was repeated on May 26, June 2d and 4th and on Tuesday, June 7th. The theatre was then “closed because of preparations for the spectacle to be presented on the return of the Emperor.” After this the theatre closed again for two days and on the 21st was reopened with “Fidelio.” A letter to Treitschke was written about this time:

Dear and worthy Tr.! What you say about a quarter of the receipts is understood, of course! and for a moment only I must moreover remain yourdebtor, but I will notforget that I am—as regards a benefit performance for me I should like to have the day set on a week from yesterday, that is next Thursday.I called on Hrn. Palffy to-day but did not find him in. Do not let the opera rest too much! It is surelyinjurious.

I called on Hrn. Palffy to-day but did not find him in. Do not let the opera rest too much! It is surelyinjurious.

The day here proposed for the benefit was not granted. The “Wiener Zeitung” of July 1st contained a “Musical Notice” which may be quoted as a comment on the first topic of the above note:

The undersigned, at the request of the Herren Artaria and Co., herewith declares that he has given the score of his operaFidelioto the aforesaid art establishment for publication under his direction in a complete pianoforte score, quartets, or arrangements for military band. The present musical version is not to be confounded with an earlier one,since hardly a musical number has been left unchanged, and more than half of the opera was composed anew. Scores in the only authorized copy and also the book in manuscript may be had of the reviser of the book, Herrn F. Treitschke, R. I. Court Poet. Other unauthorized copies will be punished by law.Ludwig van Beethoven.Vienna, June 28, 1814.

Ludwig van Beethoven.

Vienna, June 28, 1814.

Moscheles’s Pianoforte Score

Moscheles, then just twenty years of age, wrote about this time in his diary: “The offer has been made to me to make the pianoforte score of the masterpiece ‘Fidelio.’ What could be more desirable?” “We now find entries,” says his widow, “of how he carried two, and again two numbers to Beethoven, who looked through them; and then, alternately, ‘he changed little’ or ‘he changed nothing,’ or sometimes ‘he simplified it’ or ‘he reinforced it.’ One note reads, ‘Coming early to Beethoven, he was still in bed; this day he was particularly merry, leaped up at once, and, as he was, went to the window, which opened on the Schottenbastei, to look through the arranged numbers. Naturally the street boys assembled under the window until he cried out: ‘Damn the youngsters, what do they want?’ I smilingly pointed to his garment. ‘Yes, yes, you are right,’ said he and hastily threw a dressing-gown over his shoulders.[127]When we reached the last great duet, ‘Namenlose Freude,’ where I had written down the text ‘Ret-terin des Gat-ten,’ he crossed it out and wrote ‘Rett-erin des Gatt-en’; for it was not possible to sing on ‘t.’ Under the last number I had written ‘finewith God’s help.’ Hewas not at home when I carried it to him; and when he sent it back under mine were the words: ‘O man, help yourself.’”

Before bidding Moscheles farewell for the next half a dozen years, let us look at a few sentences from the preface to the English translation of Schindler’s book, partly for the information they impart and partly to prevent a mistake or two from passing into history on his authority. He thus writes:

Back to Index Next