Chapter XIII

Orchestras of the Great Nobles

Musicians are the only ones (artists) concerning whom the nobility exhibit taste. Many houses maintain private bands for their own delectation, and all the public concerts prove that this field of art stands in high respect. It is possible to enlist four or five large orchestras here, all of them incomparable. The number of real virtuosos is small, but as regards the orchestral musicians scarcely anything more beautiful is to be heard in the world.

Titled Music-Lovers in Vienna

How many such orchestras were still kept up in 1792-’93 it is, probably, now impossible to determine. Those of Princes Lobkowitz, Schwarzenberg and Auersperg may safely be named. Count Heinrich von Haugwitz and doubtless Count Batthyany brought their musicians with them when they came to the capital for “the season.” The Esterhazy band, dismissed after the death of Haydn’s old master, seems not yet to have been renewed. Prince Grassalkowitz (or Kracsalkowitz) had reduced his to a band of eight wind-instruments—oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns—a kind of organization then much in vogue. Baron Braun had one to play at dinner as at the supper in “Don Giovanni”—an accessory to the scene which Mozart introduced out of his own frequent experience. Prince Karl Lichnowsky and others retained their own players of string quartets.

The grandees of the Bohemian and Moravian capitals—Kinsky, Clamm, Nostiz, Thun, Buquoi, Hartig, Salm-Pachta, Sporck, Fünfkirchen, etc.—emulated the Austrian and Hungarian nobles. As many of them had palaces also in Vienna, and most, if not all, spent part of the year there, bringing with them a few of the more skilful members of their orchestras to execute chamber music and for the nucleus of a band when symphonies, concertos and grand vocal works were to be executed, they also added their contingent to the musical as well as to the political andfashionable life of the metropolis. The astonishingly fruitful last eight years of Mozart’s life falling within the period now under contemplation, contributed to musical literature compositions wonderfully manifold in character and setting an example that forced other composers to leave the beaten track. Haydn had just returned from his first stay in London, enriched with the pregnant experience acquired during that visit. Van Swieten had gained during his residence in Berlin appreciation of and love for the works of Handel, Bach and their schools, and since his return to Vienna, about 1778, had exerted, and was still exerting, a very powerful and marked influence upon Vienna’s musical taste.

Thus all the conditions precedent for the elevation of the art were just at this time fulfilled at Vienna, and in one department—that of instrumental music—they existed in a degree unknown in any other city. The extraordinary results as to the quantity produced in those years may be judged from the sale-catalogue (1779) of a single music-dealer, Johann Traeg, which gives of symphonies, symphonies-concertantes and overtures (the last being in a small minority) the extraordinary number of 512. The music produced at private concerts given by the nobility ranged from the grand oratorios, operas, symphonies, down to variations for the pianoforte and to simple songs. Leading musicians and composers, whose circumstances admitted of it, also gave private concerts at which they made themselves and their works known, and to which their colleagues were invited. Prince Lobkowitz, at the time Beethoven reached Vienna, was a young man of twenty years. He was born on December 7, 1772, and had just married, on August 2, a daughter of Prince Schwarzenberg. He was a violinist of considerable powers and so devoted a lover of music and the drama, so profuse a squanderer of his income upon them, as in twenty years to reduce himself to bankruptcy. Precisely Beethoven’s supposed age, the aristocrat of wealth and power and the aristocrat of talent and genius became exceedingly intimate, occasionally quarrelling and making up their differences as if belonging by birth to the same sphere.

The reigning Prince Esterhazy was that Paul Anton who, after the death of his father on February 25, 1790, broke up the musical establishment at Esterhaz and gave Haydn relief from his thirty years of service. He died on January 22, 1794, and was succeeded by his son Nicholas, a young man just five years older than Beethoven. Prince Nicholas inherited his grandfather’s taste for music, reëngaged an orchestra, and soon became known as one of the most zealous promoters of Roman Catholic church-music. The best composers of Vienna, including Beethoven, wrote masses for the chapel at Esterhaz, where they were performed with great splendor.

Count Johann Nepomuk Esterhazy, “of the middle line zu Frakno,” was a man of forty-five years, a good performer upon the oboe, and (which is much to his credit) had been a firm friend and patron of Mozart.

Of Count Franz Esterhazy, a man of thirty-five years, Schönfeld, in his “Jahrbuch der Tonkunst,” thus speaks: “This great friend of music at certain times of the year gives large and splendid concerts at which, for the greater part, large and elevated compositions are performed—particularly the choruses of Handel, the ‘Sanctus’ of Emanuel Bach, the ‘Stabat Mater’ of Pergolese, and the like. At these concerts there are always a number of the best virtuosos.”

It was not the present Prince Joseph Kinsky (who died in 1798 in his forty-eighth year) who at a later period became a distinguished patron of Beethoven, but his son Ferdinand Johann Nepomuk, then a bright boy of eleven years, born on December 4, 1781, upon whose youthful taste the strength, beauty and novelty of that composer’s works made a deep impression. Prince Carl Lichnowsky, the pupil and friend of Mozart, had a quartet concert at his dwelling every Friday morning. The regularly engaged musicians were Ignaz Schuppanzigh, son of a professor in the Real-Schule, and a youth at this time of sixteen years (if the musical lexica are to be trusted), first violin; Louis Sina, pupil of Förster, also a very young man, second violin; Franz Weiss, who completed his fifteenth year on January 18, 1793, viola; and Anton Kraft, or his son Nicholas, a boy of fourteen years (born December 18, 1778), violoncello. It was, in fact, a quartet of boy virtuosos, of whom Beethoven, several years older, could make what he would.

The Prince’s wife was Marie Christine, twenty years of age, one of those “Three Graces,” as Georg Förster called them, daughters of that Countess Thun in whose house Mozart had found such warm friendship and appreciation, and whose noble qualities are so celebrated by Burney, Reichardt and Förster. The Princess, as well as her husband, belonged to the better class of amateur performers upon the pianoforte.

Court Councillor von Kees, Vice-President of the Court of Appeals of Lower Austria, was still living. He was, says Gyrowetz, speaking of a period a few years earlier, “recognized as the foremost music-lover and dilettante in Vienna; and twice a week hegave in his house society concerts at which were gathered together the foremost virtuosos of Vienna, and the first composers, such as Joseph Haydn, Mozart, Dittersdorf, Hoffmeister, Albrechtsberger, Giarnovichi and so on. Haydn’s symphonies were played there.” In Haydn’s letters to Madame Genzinger the name of von Kees often occurs—the last time in a note of August 4, 1792, which mentions that the writer is that day to dine with the Court Councillor. This distinguished man left on his death (January 5, 1795) a very extensive collection of music.

Gottfried, Freiherr van Swieten, son of Maria Theresia’s famous Dutch physician, says Schönfeld, is,

Van Swieten and His Influence

as it were, looked upon as a patriarch of music. He has taste only for the great and exalted. He himself many years ago composed twelve beautiful symphonies (“stiff as himself,” said Haydn). When he attends a concert our semi-connoisseurs never take their eyes off him, seeking to read in his features, not always intelligible to every one, what ought to be their opinion of the music. Every year he gives a few large and brilliant concerts at which only music by the old masters is performed. His preference is for the Handelian manner, and he generally has some of Handel’s great choruses performed. As late as last Christmas (1794) he gave such a concert at Prince von Paar’s, at which an oratorio by this master was performed.

Neukomm told Prof. Jahn that in concerts, “if it chanced that a whispered conversation began, His Excellency, who was in the habit of sitting in the first row of seats, would rise solemnly, draw himself up to his full height, turn to the culprits, fix a long and solemn gaze upon them, and slowly resume his chair. It was effective, always.” He had some peculiar notions of composition; he was, for instance, fond of imitations of natural sounds in music and forced upon Haydn the imitation of frogs in “The Seasons.” Haydn himself says:

This entire passage in imitation of a frog did not flow from my pen. I was constrained to write down the French croak. At an orchestral performance this wretched conceit soon disappears, but it cannot be justified in a pianoforte score. Let the critics be not too severe on me. I am an old man and cannot revise all this again.

But to van Swieten, surely, is due the credit of having founded in Vienna a taste for Handel’s oratorios and Bach’s organ and pianoforte music, thus adding a new element to the music there. The costs of the oratorio performances were not, however, defrayed by him, as Schönfeld seems to intimate. They were met by the association called by him into being, and of which he was perpetual secretary, whose members were the Princes Liechtenstein,Esterhazy, Schwarzenberg, Auersperg, Kinsky, Trautmannsdorf, Sinsendorf, and the Counts Czernin, Harrach, Erdödy and Fries; at whose palaces as well as in van Swieten’s house and sometimes in the great hall of the Imperial Royal Library the performances were given at midday to an audience of invited guests. Fräulein Martinez, who holds so distinguished a place in Burney’s account of his visit to Vienna—that pupil of Porpora at whose music-lessons the young Joseph Haydn forty years before had been employed as accompanist—still flourished in the Michael’s House and gave a musical party every Saturday evening during the season.

Court Councillor and Chamber Paymaster von Meyer (says Schönfeld) is so excellent a lover of music that his entire personnel in the chancellary is musical, among them being such artists as a Raphael and a Hauschka. It will readily be understood, therefore, that here in the city as well as at his country-seat there are many concerts. His Majesty the Emperor himself has attended some of these concerts.

These details are sufficient to illustrate and confirm the remarks made above upon Vienna as the central point of instrumental music. Of the great number of composers in that branch of the art whom Beethoven found there, a few of the more eminent must be named.

Famous Composers in Vienna

Of course, Haydn stood at the head. The next in rank—longo intervallo—was Mozart’s successor in the office of Imperial Chamber Composer, Leopold Kozeluch, a Bohemian, now just forty years of age. Though now forgotten and, according to Beethoven, “miserabilis,” he was renowned throughout Europe for his quartets and other chamber music. A man of less popular repute but of a solid genius and acquirements far beyond those of Kozeluch, whom Beethoven greatly respected and twenty-five years later called his “old master,” was Emanuel Aloys Förster, a Silesian, now forty-five years of age. His quintets, quartets and the like ranked very high, but at that time were known for the most part only in manuscript. Anton Eberl, five years the senior of Beethoven, a Viennese by birth, had composed two operettas in the sixteenth year of his age which were produced at the Kärnthnerthor-Theater, one of which gained the young author the favor of Gluck. He seems to have been a favorite of Mozart and caught so much of the spirit and style of that master as to produce compositions which were printed by dishonest publishers under Mozart’s name, and as his were sold throughout Europe. In 1776 he accompanied the Widow Mozart and her sister, Madame Lange, the vocalist, in the tour through Germany, gaining that reputation in other cities which he enjoyed at home, both as pianist andcomposer. His force was in instrumental composition, and we shall hereafter see him for a moment as a symphonist bearing away the palm from Beethoven!

Johann Vanhall, whose name was so well known in Paris and London that Burney, twenty years before, sought him out in his garret in a suburb of Vienna, was as indefatigable as ever in production. Gerber says in his first Lexicon (1792) that Breitkopf and Härtel had then fifty of his symphonies in manuscript. His fecundity was equal to that of Haydn; his genius such that all his works are now forgotten. It is needless to continue this list.

One other fact illustrating the musical tastes and accomplishments of the higher classes of the capital may be added. There were, during the winter 1792-93, ten private theatres with amateur companies in activity, of which the more important were in the residences of the nobles Stockhammer, Kinsky, Sinsendorf and Strassaldo, and of the bookseller Schrambl. Most of these companies produced operas and operettas.

Beethoven in Society—Concerts—Wegeler’s Recollections—Compositions—The First Trios—Sonatas Dedicated to Haydn—Variations—Dances for the Ridotto Rooms—Plays at Haydn’s Concert.

However quiet and “without observation” Beethoven’s advent in Vienna may have been at that time when men’s minds were occupied by movements of armies and ideas of revolution, he could hardly have gone thither under better auspices. He was Court Organist and Pianist to the Emperor’s uncle; his talents in that field were well known to the many Austrians of rank who had heard him in Bonn when visiting there or when paying their respects to the Elector in passing to and from the Austrian Netherlands; he was a pupil of Joseph Haydn—a circumstance in itself sufficient to secure him a hearing; and he was protected by Count Waldstein, whose family connections were such that he could introduce his favorite into the highest circles, the imperial house only excepted. Waldstein’s mother was a Liechtenstein; his grandmother a Trautmannsdorf; three of his sisters had married respectively into the families Dietrichstein, Crugenburg and Wallis; and by the marriages of uncles and aunts he was connected with the great houses Oettingen-Spielberg, Khevenhüller-Melisch, Kinsky, Palfy von Erdöd and Ulfeld—not to mention others less known. If the circle be extended by a degree or two it embraces the names Kaunitz, Lobkowitz, Kohary, Fünfkirchen, Keglevics and Colloredo-Mansfeld.

Dr. Burney, in closing his “Present State of Music in Germany,” notes the distinction in the styles of composition and performance in some of the principal cities of that country, “Vienna being most remarkable for fire and animation; Mannheim for neat and brilliant execution; Berlin for counterpoint and Brunswick for taste.” Since Burney’s tour (1772) Vienna had the highest example of all these qualities united in Mozart. But he had passed away, and no great pianist of the first rank remained;there were extraordinary dilettanti and professional pianists “of very neat and brilliant execution,” but none who possessed great “fire, animation and invention,” qualities still most valued in Vienna and in which the young Beethoven, with all the hardness and heaviness of manipulation caused by his devotion to the organ, was wholly unrivalled. With all the salons in the metropolis open to him, his success as a virtuoso was, therefore, certain. All the contemporary authorities, and all the traditions of those years, agree in the fact of that success, and that his playing of Bach’s preludes and fugues especially, his reading of the most difficult scores at sight and his extemporaneous performances excited ever new wonder and delight. Schindler records that van Swieten, after musical performances at his house, “detained Beethoven and persuaded him to add a few fugues by Sebastian Bach as an evening blessing,” and he preserves a note without date, though evidently belonging to Beethoven’s first years in Vienna, which proves how high a place the young man had then won in the old gentleman’s favor:

To Mr. Beethoven in Alstergasse, No. 45, with the Prince Lichnowsky: If there is nothing to hinder next Wednesday I should be glad to see you at my home at half past 8 with your nightcap in your bag. Give me an immediate answer.Swieten.

Swieten.

There is also an entry in the oft-cited memorandum book belonging in date to October or November, 1793, which may be given in this connection: “Supped in the evening at Swieten’s, 17 pourboire. To the janitor 4 x for opening the door.”

The Three Trios, Op. 1

But the instant and striking success of Beethoven as virtuoso by no means filled up the measure of his ambition. He aspired to the higher position of composer, and to obtain this more was needed than the performance of variations, however excellent. To this end he selected the three Trios afterwards published as Op. 1, and brought them to performance at the house of Prince Lichnowsky. Happily for us, Beethoven related some particulars concerning this first performance of these compositions in Vienna to his pupil Ries, who gives the substance of the story thus:

It was planned to introduce the first three Trios of Beethoven, which were about to be published as Op. 1, to the artistic world at a soirée at prince Lichnowsky’s. Most of the artists and music-lovers were invited, especially Haydn, for whose opinion all were eager. The Trios were played and at once commanded extraordinary attention. Haydn also said many pretty things about them, but advised Beethoven not to publish the third, in C minor. This astonished Beethoven, inasmuch ashe considered the third the best of the Trios, as it is still the one which gives the greatest pleasure and makes the greatest effect. Consequently, Haydn’s remark left a bad impression on Beethoven and led him to think that Haydn was envious, jealous and ill-disposed toward him. I confess that when Beethoven told me of this I gave it little credence. I therefore took occasion to ask Haydn himself about it. His answer, however, confirmed Beethoven’s statement; he said he had not believed that this Trio would so quickly and easily be understood and so favorably received by the public.

The Fischoff manuscript says:

The three Trios for pianoforte, violin and violoncello, Op. 1 (the pearls of all sonatas), which are in fact his sixth work, justly excited admiration, though they were performed in only a few circles. Wherever this was done, however, connoisseurs and music-lovers bestowed upon them undivided applause, which grew with the succeeding works as the hearers not only accustomed themselves to the striking and original qualities of the master but grasped his spirit and strove for the high privilege of understanding him.

More than two years passed by, however, before the composer thought fit to send these Trios to the press; perhaps restrained by a feeling of modesty, since he was still a student, perhaps by a doubt as to the success of compositions so new in style, or by prudence, choosing to delay their publication until they had been so often performed from the manuscript as to secure their comprehension and appreciation, and thus an adequate number of subscribers. In the meantime he prepared the way for them by publishing a few sets of variations. “Beethoven had composed variations on themes from Mozart’s ‘Zauberflöte,’ which he had already sketched in Bonn, and Zmeskall took it upon himself to submit them to a publisher; but they had only a small sale.” (The Fischoff MS.) This refers doubtless to the Variations “Se vuol ballare” from “Le Nozze di Figaro,” which, having been revised and improved by a new coda, came out in July, 1793, with a dedication to Eleonore von Breuning. It was not until the next year that the thirteen variations upon the theme “Es war einmal ein alter Mann,” from Dittersdorf’s “Rothkäppchen,” appeared, and these were followed by those for four hands on the Waldstein theme, first advertised in January, 1795.

In fact, Beethoven evidently was in no haste to publish his compositions. It will presently be seen that he sent the “Se vuol ballare” variations to press partly at the request of others and partly to entrap the rival pianists of Vienna. A few years later we shall find him dashing off and immediately publishing variations on popular theatrical melodies; but works of greater scope,and especially his pianoforte concertos, were for the most part long retained in his exclusive possession. Thus the Pianoforte Concerto in B-flat major, Op. 18, though supposed by Tomaschek to have been composed at Prague in 1798, certainly (if Beethoven’s own words in a letter to Breitkopf and Härtel are to be believed) preceded in composition that in C major, Op. 15, and must, therefore, have been finished at the latest in March, 1795, and was doubtless often played by him at private concerts during the period now before us. It was not published until 1801.

Let the reader now recall to mind some of the points previously dwelt upon: the Fischenich letter of January and Neefe’s letter of October, 1793, which record the favorable reports sent to Bonn of Beethoven’s musical progress; his studies with Haydn and Schenk; the cares and perplexities caused him temporarily by the death of his father, and the unpleasant circumstances attending that event; his steady success as a virtuoso; his visit in the summer to Prince Esterhazy; and it is obvious with what industry and energy he engaged in his new career, with what zeal and unfaltering activity he labored to make the most of his opportunities. In one year after leaving Bonn he felt his success secure, and no longer feared Hamlet’s “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” This is indicated in a passage (“O, how we shall then rejoice together,” etc.) of the earliest of his Vienna letters which has been preserved—that letter in which, as Wegeler remarks, “he asked pardon for much more error than he had committed,” and which, though often reprinted from the “Notizen,” is too important and characteristic to be here omitted.

Beethoven Sues for Pardon

Vienna, November 2, 93.Most estimable Leonore!My most precious friend!Not until I have lived almost a year in the capital do you receive a letter from me, and yet you were most assuredly perpetually in my liveliest memory. Often in thought I have conversed with you and your dear family, though not with that peace of mind which I could have desired. It was then that the wretched misunderstanding hovered before me and my conduct presented itself as most despicable. But it was too late. O, what would I not give could I obliterate from my life those actions so degrading to myself and so contrary to my character. True, there were many circumstances which tended to estrange us, and I suspect that tales whispered in our ears of remarks made one about the other were chiefly that which prevented us from coming to an understanding. We both believed that we were speaking from conviction; whereas it was only in anger, and we were both deceived. Your good and noble character, my dear friend, is sufficient assurance to me that you forgave me long ago. But we are told that the sincerest contritionconsists in acknowledgment of our faults; and to do this has been my desire. And now let us drop the curtain on the affair, only drawing from it this lesson—that when friends quarrel it is much better to have it out face to face than to turn to a go-between.With this you will receive a dedication from me to you concerning which I only wish that the work were a larger one and more worthy of you. I was plagued here to publish the little work, and I took advantage of the opportunity, my estimable E., to show my respect and friendship for you and my enduring memory of your family. Take this trifle and remember that it comes from a friend who respects you greatly. Oh, if it but gives you pleasure, my wishes will be completely fulfilled. Let it be a reminder of the time when I spent so many and such blessed hours at your home. Perhaps it will keep me in your recollection until I eventually return to you, which, it is true, is not likely to be soon. But how we shall rejoice then, my dear friend—you will then find in your friend a happier man, from whose visage time and a kindlier fate shall have smoothed out all the furrows of a hateful past.If you should chance to see B. Koch, please say to her that it is not nice of her never once to have written to me. I wrote to her twice and three times to Malchus, but no answer. Say to her that if she doesn’t want to write she might at least urge Malchus to do so. In conclusion I venture a request; it is this: I should like once again to be so happy as to own a waistcoat knit of hare’s wool by your hands, my dear friend. Pardon the immodest request, my dear friend, but it proceeds from a great predilection for everything that comes from your hands. Privately I may also acknowledge that a little vanity is also involved in the request; I want to be able to say that I have something that was given me by the best and most estimable girl in Bonn. I still have the waistcoat which you were good enough to give me in Bonn, but it has grown so out of fashion that I can only treasure it in my wardrobe as something very precious because it came from you. You would give me much pleasure if you were soon to rejoice me with a dear letter from yourself. If my letters should in any way please you I promise in this to be at your command so far as lies in my power, as everything is welcome to me which enables me to show how truly I amYour admiring,true friendL. v. Beethoven.P.S. The V. [variations] you will find a little difficult to play, especially the trills in thecoda; but don’t let that alarm you. It is so contrived that you need play only the trill, leaving out the other notes because they are also in the violin part. I never would have composed a thing of the kind had I not often observed that here and there in Vienna there was somebody who, after I had improvised of an evening, noted down many of my peculiarities, and made parade of them next day as his own. Foreseeing that some of these things would soon appear in print, I resolved to anticipate them. Another reason that I had was to embarrass the local pianoforte masters. Many of them are my deadly enemies and I wanted to revenge myself on them, knowing that once in a while somebody would ask them to play the variations and they would make a sorry show with them.

Vienna, November 2, 93.

Most estimable Leonore!My most precious friend!

Not until I have lived almost a year in the capital do you receive a letter from me, and yet you were most assuredly perpetually in my liveliest memory. Often in thought I have conversed with you and your dear family, though not with that peace of mind which I could have desired. It was then that the wretched misunderstanding hovered before me and my conduct presented itself as most despicable. But it was too late. O, what would I not give could I obliterate from my life those actions so degrading to myself and so contrary to my character. True, there were many circumstances which tended to estrange us, and I suspect that tales whispered in our ears of remarks made one about the other were chiefly that which prevented us from coming to an understanding. We both believed that we were speaking from conviction; whereas it was only in anger, and we were both deceived. Your good and noble character, my dear friend, is sufficient assurance to me that you forgave me long ago. But we are told that the sincerest contritionconsists in acknowledgment of our faults; and to do this has been my desire. And now let us drop the curtain on the affair, only drawing from it this lesson—that when friends quarrel it is much better to have it out face to face than to turn to a go-between.

With this you will receive a dedication from me to you concerning which I only wish that the work were a larger one and more worthy of you. I was plagued here to publish the little work, and I took advantage of the opportunity, my estimable E., to show my respect and friendship for you and my enduring memory of your family. Take this trifle and remember that it comes from a friend who respects you greatly. Oh, if it but gives you pleasure, my wishes will be completely fulfilled. Let it be a reminder of the time when I spent so many and such blessed hours at your home. Perhaps it will keep me in your recollection until I eventually return to you, which, it is true, is not likely to be soon. But how we shall rejoice then, my dear friend—you will then find in your friend a happier man, from whose visage time and a kindlier fate shall have smoothed out all the furrows of a hateful past.

If you should chance to see B. Koch, please say to her that it is not nice of her never once to have written to me. I wrote to her twice and three times to Malchus, but no answer. Say to her that if she doesn’t want to write she might at least urge Malchus to do so. In conclusion I venture a request; it is this: I should like once again to be so happy as to own a waistcoat knit of hare’s wool by your hands, my dear friend. Pardon the immodest request, my dear friend, but it proceeds from a great predilection for everything that comes from your hands. Privately I may also acknowledge that a little vanity is also involved in the request; I want to be able to say that I have something that was given me by the best and most estimable girl in Bonn. I still have the waistcoat which you were good enough to give me in Bonn, but it has grown so out of fashion that I can only treasure it in my wardrobe as something very precious because it came from you. You would give me much pleasure if you were soon to rejoice me with a dear letter from yourself. If my letters should in any way please you I promise in this to be at your command so far as lies in my power, as everything is welcome to me which enables me to show how truly I am

Your admiring,true friendL. v. Beethoven.

P.S. The V. [variations] you will find a little difficult to play, especially the trills in thecoda; but don’t let that alarm you. It is so contrived that you need play only the trill, leaving out the other notes because they are also in the violin part. I never would have composed a thing of the kind had I not often observed that here and there in Vienna there was somebody who, after I had improvised of an evening, noted down many of my peculiarities, and made parade of them next day as his own. Foreseeing that some of these things would soon appear in print, I resolved to anticipate them. Another reason that I had was to embarrass the local pianoforte masters. Many of them are my deadly enemies and I wanted to revenge myself on them, knowing that once in a while somebody would ask them to play the variations and they would make a sorry show with them.

Except Beethoven’s memorandum, “Schuppanzigh 3 times each W.; Albrechtsberger 3 times each W.”, which indicates his change of instructors, there is nothing to be recorded until, probably in May or June (1794), we come to the fragment of another letter to Eleonore von Breuning also contained in Wegeler’s “Notizen” (p. 60), which has particular interest both as showing how bitterly his conscience reproached him for acts inconsistent with the forbearance and command of temper due to friendship, but in which he ever remained too apt to indulge, and as adding some implied confirmation of the argument previously made in relation to the compositions of the Bonn period. In this letter he acknowledges receipt of a cravat embroidered by Eleonore and protests that thoughts of her generosity and his unworthiness had brought him to tears. He continues: “Do pray believe me that little as I have deserved it,my friend(let me always call you such), I have suffered much and still suffer from the loss of your friendship.... As a slight return for your kind recollection of me I take the liberty of sending these Variations and the Rondo with violin (accompaniment). I have a great deal to do or I should have transcribed the Sonata I promised you long ago. It is a mere sketch in manuscript, and to copy it would be a difficult, etc.” The letter is signed: “The friend who still reveres you, Beethowen” (sic).[70]

In January, 1794, Elector Max had paid a short visit to Vienna, where, perhaps, it was determined that Beethoven should remain “without salary until recalled.” After the declaration of war by the Empire against France, the electorate, as a German state, could no longer remain neutral; and thus it came to pass that in October the victorious French army marched into Bonn. The Elector fled to Frankfort-on-the-Main, November 6th, thence to Münster, while his court and all such as were obnoxious to the republican authorities dispersed in all directions for safety.

One of these fugitives, a young man of twenty-nine years but already the Rector of the University, to “save his head” hastened away to Vienna—Dr. Wegeler. He reached that capitalin October and found Beethoven not in the “room on the ground floor” where “it was not necessary to pay the housekeeper more than 7 florins,” but living as a guest in the family of Prince Karl Lichnowsky; and this explains sufficiently the cessation of those records of monthly payments before noticed.

Dr. Wegeler’s Reminiscences

The reminiscences of Wegeler for the period of his stay in Vienna, excepting those which may be better introduced chronologically in other connections, may well find place here. They are interesting and characteristic in themselves and indicate, also, the great change for the better in Beethoven’s pecuniary condition; for a man who keeps a servant and a horse cannot, if honest, be a sufferer from poverty:

Carl, Prince of Lichnowsky, Count Werdenberg, Dynast Granson, was a very great patron, yes, a friend of Beethoven’s, who took him into his house as a guest, where he remained at least a few years. I found him there toward the end of the year 1794, and left him there in the middle of 1796. Meanwhile, however, Beethoven had almost always a home in the country.The Prince was a great lover and connoisseur of music. He played the pianoforte, and by studying Beethoven’s pieces and playing them more or less well, sought to convince him that there was no need of changing anything in his style of composition, though the composer’s attention was often called to the difficulties of his works. There were performances at his house every Friday morning, participated in by four hired musicians—Schuppanzigh, Weiss, Kraft and another (Link?), besides our friend; generally also an amateur, Zmeskall. Beethoven always listened with pleasure to the observations of these gentlemen. Thus, to cite a single instance, the famous violoncellist Kraft in my presence called his attention to a passage in the finale of the Trio, Op. 1, No. 3, to the fact that it ought to be marked “sulla corda G,” and the indication 4-4 time which Beethoven had marked in the finale of the second Trio, changed to 2-4. Here the new compositions of Beethoven, so far as was feasible, were first performed. Here there were generally present several great musicians and music-lovers. I, too, as long as I lived in Vienna, was present, if not every time, at least most of the time.Here a Hungarian count once placed a difficult composition by Bach in manuscript before him which he playeda vistaexactly as Bach would have played it, according to the testimony of the owner. Here the Viennese author Förster once brought him a quartet of which he had made a clean copy only that morning. In the second portion of the first movement the violoncello got out. Beethoven stood up, and still playing his own part sang the bass accompaniment. When I spoke about it to him as a proof of extraordinary acquirements, he replied with a smile: “The bass parthadto be so, else the author would have known nothing about composition.” To the remark that he had played aprestowhich he had never seen before so rapidly that it must have been impossible to see the individual notes, he answered: “Nor is that necessary; if you read rapidly there may be a multitude of typographicalerrors, but you neither see nor give heed to them, so long as the language is a familiar one.”After the concert the musicians generally stayed to dine. Here there gathered, in addition, artists and savants without regard to social position. The Princess Christiane was the highly cultivated daughter of Count Franz Joseph von Thun, who, a very philanthropic and respectable gentleman, was disposed to extravagant enthusiasm by his intercourse with Lavater, and believed himself capable of healing diseases through the power of his right hand.

The Prince was a great lover and connoisseur of music. He played the pianoforte, and by studying Beethoven’s pieces and playing them more or less well, sought to convince him that there was no need of changing anything in his style of composition, though the composer’s attention was often called to the difficulties of his works. There were performances at his house every Friday morning, participated in by four hired musicians—Schuppanzigh, Weiss, Kraft and another (Link?), besides our friend; generally also an amateur, Zmeskall. Beethoven always listened with pleasure to the observations of these gentlemen. Thus, to cite a single instance, the famous violoncellist Kraft in my presence called his attention to a passage in the finale of the Trio, Op. 1, No. 3, to the fact that it ought to be marked “sulla corda G,” and the indication 4-4 time which Beethoven had marked in the finale of the second Trio, changed to 2-4. Here the new compositions of Beethoven, so far as was feasible, were first performed. Here there were generally present several great musicians and music-lovers. I, too, as long as I lived in Vienna, was present, if not every time, at least most of the time.

Here a Hungarian count once placed a difficult composition by Bach in manuscript before him which he playeda vistaexactly as Bach would have played it, according to the testimony of the owner. Here the Viennese author Förster once brought him a quartet of which he had made a clean copy only that morning. In the second portion of the first movement the violoncello got out. Beethoven stood up, and still playing his own part sang the bass accompaniment. When I spoke about it to him as a proof of extraordinary acquirements, he replied with a smile: “The bass parthadto be so, else the author would have known nothing about composition.” To the remark that he had played aprestowhich he had never seen before so rapidly that it must have been impossible to see the individual notes, he answered: “Nor is that necessary; if you read rapidly there may be a multitude of typographicalerrors, but you neither see nor give heed to them, so long as the language is a familiar one.”

After the concert the musicians generally stayed to dine. Here there gathered, in addition, artists and savants without regard to social position. The Princess Christiane was the highly cultivated daughter of Count Franz Joseph von Thun, who, a very philanthropic and respectable gentleman, was disposed to extravagant enthusiasm by his intercourse with Lavater, and believed himself capable of healing diseases through the power of his right hand.

The following undated letter also belongs to the years of Beethoven’s intimate association with Wegeler in Vienna (1794-96). It is significant of Beethoven’s character. Though easily offended and prone to anger, no sooner was the first ebullition of temper past than he was so reconciliatory and open to explanation that usually his contrition was out of all proportion to his fault. For this reason, and because it presents the friend in a light which provoked a protest from his modesty, Wegeler was unwilling to make public the entire letter.[71]

Confession, Contrition, Petition

Dearest! Best! In what an odious light you have exhibited me to myself! I acknowledge it, I do not deserve your friendship. You are so noble, so considerate, and the first time that I ranged myself alongside of you I fell so far below you! Ah, for weeks I have displeased my best and noblest friend! You think that I have lost some of my goodness of heart, but, thank Heaven! it was no intentional or deliberate malice which induced me to act as I did towards you; it was my inexcusable thoughtlessness which did not permit me to see the matter in its true light. O, how ashamed I am, not only for your sake but also my own. I can scarcely trust myself to ask for your friendship again. Oh, Wegeler, my only comfort lies in this, that you have known me almost from my childhood, and yet, O let me say for myself, I was always good, and always strove to be upright and true in my actions—otherwise how could you have loved me? Could I have changed so fearfully for the worse in such a short time? Impossible; these feelings of goodness and love of righteousness cannot have died forever in me in a moment. No, Wegeler, dearest, best, O, venture again to throw yourself entirely into the arms of your B.; trust in the good qualities you used to find in him; I will guarantee that the pure temple of sacred friendship which you erect shall remain firm forever; no accident, no storm shall ever shake its foundations—firm—forever—our friendship—pardon—oblivion—a new upflaming of the dying, sinking friendship—O, Wegeler, do not reject this hand of reconciliation. Place yours in mine—O, God!—but no more; I am coming to throw myself in your arms, to entreat you to restore to me my lost friend. And you will give yourself to me, your penitent, loving, never-forgettingBeethoven again.It was only now that I received your letter, because I have just returned home.

Beethoven again.

It was only now that I received your letter, because I have just returned home.

In this connection Wegeler comes to speak of the outward conditions of Beethoven: “Beethoven,” he says on page 33,

brought up under extremely restricted circumstances, and as it were, under guardianship, though that of his friends, did not know the value of money and was anything but economical. Thus, to cite a single instance, the Prince’s dinner hour was fixed at 4 o’clock. “Now,” said Beethoven, “it is desired that every day I shall be at home at half-past 3, put on better clothes, care for my beard, etc.—I can’t stand that!” So it happened that he frequently went to the taverns, since, as has been said, in this as in all other matters of economy, he knew nothing about the value of things or of money. The Prince, Wegeler continues, who had a loud, metallic voice, once directed his serving-man that if ever he and Beethoven should ring at the same time the latter was to be first served. Beethoven heard this, and the same day engaged a servant for himself. In the same manner, once when he took a whim to learn to ride, which speedily left him, the stable of the Prince being offered him, he bought a horse.

Concerning his friend’s affairs of the heart, Wegeler had opportunity to make observations in Vienna. He relates on page 43 that while he was in the capital Beethoven “was always in love and made many conquests which would have been difficult if not impossible for many an Adonis.” Beethoven’s antipathy to teaching before he left Bonn has already been noticed. In Vienna he developed a still stronger repugnance to playing in society when requested to do so. He often complained to Wegeler how grievously this put him out of sorts, whereupon the latter sought to entertain him and quiet him by conversation. “When this purpose was reached,” he continues,

I dropped the conversation, seated myself at the writing table, and Beethoven, if he wanted to continue the discourse, had to sit down on the chair before the pianoforte. Soon, still turned away from the instrument, he aimlessly struck a few chords out of which gradually grew the most beautiful melodies. Oh, why did I not understand more of music! Several times I put ruled paper upon the desk as if without intention, in order to get a manuscript of his; he wrote upon it but then folded it up and put it in his pocket! Concerning his playing I was permitted to say but little, and that only in passing. He would then go away entirely changed in mood and always come back again gladly. The antipathy remained, however, and was frequently the cause of differences between Beethoven and his friends and well-wishers.

Old Bonn Friends Remembered

There is still one other reminiscence of Wegeler in the appendix to the “Notizen” (page 9) worthy of citation. “At one time private lectures were given in Vienna on Kant, which had been arranged by Adam Schmidt, Wilhelm Schmidt, Hunczovsky, Göpfert and others. In spite of my urgings Beethoven refused toattend a single one of them.” There is no reference in Wegeler’s “Notizen” to instruction received by Beethoven from Albrechtsberger. With his old colleague in the Court Orchestra in Bonn, Nicolaus Simrock, though he was a much older man, Beethoven remained in touch after his removal to Vienna. Simrock, who was highly esteemed both as man and musician, had embarked in business as a music publisher in Bonn. The Variations on a theme from Dittersdorf’s “Rothkäppchen,” were published by him (at the latest in the early part of 1794), as well as those for pianoforte four hands on a theme by Count Waldstein (some time in the same year). It is to the latter composition that the following letter refers:

Vienna, August 2, 1794.Dear Simrock:I deserve a little scolding from you for holding back your Variations so long, but, indeed, I do not lie when I say that I was hindered from correcting them sooner by an overwhelming amount of business. You will note the shortcomings for yourself, but I must wish you joy on the appearance of your engraving, which is beautiful, clear and legible. Verily, if you keep on thus you will become chief among cutters, that is, note cutters[72]. In my former letter I promised to send you something of mine and you interpreted the remark as being in the language of the cavaliers. How have I deserved such a title? Faugh! who would indulge in such language in these democratic days of ours? To free myself from the imputation as soon as I have finished the grand revision of my compositions, which will be soon, you shall have something which you will surely engrave. I have also been looking about me for a commissioner and have found a right capable young fellow for the place. His name is Traeg. You have naught to do but to write to him or me about the conditions which you want to make. He asks of you one-thirdrabate. The devil take all such bargaining! It is very hot here. The Viennese fear that they will soon be unable to eat ice-cream, there having been little cold last winter and ice being scarce. Many persons of importance have come here and it was said that a revolution was imminent; but it is my belief that so long as the Austrian has his dark beer and sausage he will not revolt. It is said that the suburban gates are to be closed at ten o’clock at night. The soldiers’ guns are loaded with bullets. No one dares speak aloud for fear of arrest by the police. Are your daughters grown? Bring one up to be my wife, for if I am to remain single in Bonn I shall not stay long, of a surety. You also must be living in fear. How is good Ries? I shall write to him soon for he can have only an unfavorable opinion of me—but this damned writing! I cannot get over my antipathy towards it. Have you performed my piece yet? Write to me occasionally.Please send also a few copies of the first Variations.YourBeethoven.

Vienna, August 2, 1794.

Dear Simrock:

I deserve a little scolding from you for holding back your Variations so long, but, indeed, I do not lie when I say that I was hindered from correcting them sooner by an overwhelming amount of business. You will note the shortcomings for yourself, but I must wish you joy on the appearance of your engraving, which is beautiful, clear and legible. Verily, if you keep on thus you will become chief among cutters, that is, note cutters[72]. In my former letter I promised to send you something of mine and you interpreted the remark as being in the language of the cavaliers. How have I deserved such a title? Faugh! who would indulge in such language in these democratic days of ours? To free myself from the imputation as soon as I have finished the grand revision of my compositions, which will be soon, you shall have something which you will surely engrave. I have also been looking about me for a commissioner and have found a right capable young fellow for the place. His name is Traeg. You have naught to do but to write to him or me about the conditions which you want to make. He asks of you one-thirdrabate. The devil take all such bargaining! It is very hot here. The Viennese fear that they will soon be unable to eat ice-cream, there having been little cold last winter and ice being scarce. Many persons of importance have come here and it was said that a revolution was imminent; but it is my belief that so long as the Austrian has his dark beer and sausage he will not revolt. It is said that the suburban gates are to be closed at ten o’clock at night. The soldiers’ guns are loaded with bullets. No one dares speak aloud for fear of arrest by the police. Are your daughters grown? Bring one up to be my wife, for if I am to remain single in Bonn I shall not stay long, of a surety. You also must be living in fear. How is good Ries? I shall write to him soon for he can have only an unfavorable opinion of me—but this damned writing! I cannot get over my antipathy towards it. Have you performed my piece yet? Write to me occasionally.

Please send also a few copies of the first Variations.

YourBeethoven.

These “first Variations” obviously are those on the theme from “Rothkäppchen”; those referred to in the early part of the letter the ones on Count Waldstein’s theme. The “piece” whose performance he inquires about is the Octet, and the allusion to it justifies the belief that it was composed for the wind-instrument players of Bonn who found no opportunity to play it while Beethoven was still in his native city. The letter, like that written to Eleonore von Breuning, shows that Beethoven was still thinking of the possibility or probability of a return to Bonn. Its cheerful tone discloses a comfortable, satisfied frame of mind—the mood from which the first Trios proceeded.

First Concert Appearances in Vienna

We return to the chronological record of events. The first of these in the year 1795, was Beethoven’s first appearance in public as virtuoso and composer. The annual concerts in the Burgtheater established by Gassmann for the benefit of the widows of theTonkünstlergesellschaftwere announced for the evenings of March 29 and 30. The vocal work selected for performance was an oratorio in two parts, “Gioas, Re di Giuda,” by Antonio Cartellieri; the instrumental, a Concerto for Pianoforte and Orchestra, composed and played by Ludwig van Beethoven. Cartellieri was a young man of twenty-three years (born in Danzig, September 27, 1772) who, a year or two since, had come from Berlin to study operatic composition with the then greatest living composer in that field, Salieri. As the direction of these Widow and Orphan concerts was almost exclusively in the hands of Salieri, one is almost tempted to think that he may on this occasion have indulged a pardonable vanity in bringing forward two of his pupils, if we did not know how strong an attraction the name of Beethoven must have been for the public which, as yet, had had no opportunity to learn his great powers except by report. The day of the performance drew near but the Concerto was not yet written out. “Not until the afternoon of the second day before the concert did he write the rondo, and then while suffering from a pretty severe colic which frequently afflicted him. I [Wegeler] relieved him with simple remedies so far as I could. In the anteroom sat four copyists to whom he handed sheet after sheet as soon as it was finished.... At the first rehearsal, which took place the next day in Beethoven’s room, the pianoforte was found to be half a tone lower than the wind-instruments. Without a moment’s delay Beethoven had the wind-instruments and the others tune to B-flat instead of A and played his part in C-sharp.” Thus Wegeler in his “Notizen” (pg. 36). But he has confounded two compositions. The concerto which Beethoven played on March29, 1795, was not that in C (Op. 15) which was not yet finished, but, in all probability, that in B-flat (Op. 19). For the fact that the Concerto in B-flat was composed before that in C we have the testimony of Beethoven himself, who wrote to Breitkopf and Härtel on April 22, 1801: “I simply want to call your attention to the fact that one of my first Concertos will be published by Hoffmeister, which is not among my best works, and one also by Mollo which, though composed later, etc.” The Concerto in B-flat was published in 1801 by Hoffmeister and that in C in the same year by Mollo and Co. in Vienna, the latter a little in advance of the former, wherefore there need be no surprise at the earlieropusnumber.

Beethoven also took part in the second concert on March 30, the minutes of the Tonkünstlerschaft recording that he “improvised on the pianoforte”; and though busily engaged he also embraced an opportunity to testify to his devotion to the manes of Mozart. On March 31, 1795, Mozart’s widow arranged a performance of “La Clemenza di Tito” in the Burgtheater. “After the first part,” says the advertisement, “Mr. Ludwig van Beethoven will play a Concerto of Mozart’s composition on the Pianoforte.” We opine that this concerto was Mozart’s in D minor, which Beethoven loved especially and for which he wrote cadenzas.

The Trios, Op. 1, had now become so well known and appreciated in musical circles as to justify their publication, and accordingly, an advertisement inviting subscriptions for Ludwig van Beethoven’s “three Grand Trios” appeared in the “Wiener Zeitung” on May 16, 1795. Three days later a contract was signed by the author and Artaria and Company. The printed list of subscribers gives 123 names, mostly belonging to the higher circles, with subscriptions amounting to 241 copies. As Beethoven paid the publisher but one florin per copy, and the subscription price was one ducat, he made a handsome profit out of the transaction.[73]

Back to Index Next