Chapter XIV

First Pianoforte Trios and Sonatas

We must tarry a moment longer with these Trios. That the author is disposed to place their origin in the Bonn period has already appeared. Argument in favor of this view can be found in the fact of their early performance in Vienna, for there can be no reasonable question of the correctness of Ries’s story, for which Beethoven himself was authority, that they were played at the house of Prince Lichnowsky, in the presence of Haydn. This performance must have taken place before January 19, 1794, because on that day Haydn started again for England. Now, Beethoven’s sketches show that he was still working on at least the second andthird of the Trios after 1794, and that they were not ready for the printer before the end of that year. Further explanation is offered by the following little circumstances: since Haydn was present, the performance at Prince Lichnowsky’s must have been from manuscript. In the morning meeting which probably took place only a short time before the soirée, Beethoven’s attention was called to the desirability of changing in the last movement of the second Trio, the time-signature from 4-4 to 2-4. Beethoven made the change. From these facts it may be concluded that after a first there was a final revision of these Trios and that the former version disappeared or was destroyed after the latter was made. It has repeatedly been intimated that the author believes that the rewriting of compositions completed in Beethoven’s early period is farther-reaching than is generally assumed. The case therefore seems to present itself as follows: Haydn heard the Trios at Lichnowsky’s in their first state; Beethoven then took them up for revision and in the course of 1794 and the beginning of 1795 brought them to the state in which we know them. It is not possible to say positively whether or not the first form, particularly of the first Trio, dates back to the Bonn period.

An interesting anecdote connected with these Trios may well find place here; it is contributed by Madame Mary de Fouche, daughter of Tomkison, who, in the seventh decade of the nineteenth century, was one of the more famous pianoforte manufacturers of London: In the early days of the century, a little society of musicians—J. B. Cramer, the pianist; F. Cramer, violinist, half-brother of the preceding; J. P. Salomon, whose name has so often come up in previous chapters of this work; Bridgetower, a mulatto and celebrated violinist, whose name we shall meet again; Watts, tenor; Morant, also tenor, who married the great Dussek’s widow; Dahmen, Lindley and Crossdale, violoncellists—was in the habit of meeting regularly at Mr. Tomkison’s to try over and criticise such new music of the German school as came to the London dealers. At one of these meetings the new Trios of Beethoven, Op. 1, were played through, J. B. Cramer at the pianoforte. “This is the man,” he cried, “who is to console us for the loss of Mozart!” According to the recollection of Cipriani Potter, this was after Cramer had made the personal acquaintance of Beethoven in Vienna, and had heard him play there.

Some other incidents recorded by Wegeler belong to this year. Haydn reached Vienna upon his return from his second visit to England on August 20. Beethoven had now ready the three Sonatas, Op. 2, and at one of the Friday morning concerts atPrince Lichnowsky’s he played them to Haydn, to whom they were dedicated.

Here (says Wegeler on page 29 of the ‘Notizen’), Count Appony asked Beethoven to compose a quartet for him for a given compensation, Beethoven not yet having written a piece in this genre. The Count declared that contrary to custom he did not want to have exclusive possession of the quartet for half a year before publication, nor did he ask that it be dedicated to him, etc. In response to repeated urgings by me, Beethoven twice set about the task, but the first effort resulted in a grand violin Trio (Op. 3), the second in a violin Quintet (Op. 4).

How much mistaken Wegeler was in these concluding statements has already been indicated.

The three Pianoforte Sonatas dedicated to Haydn were, therefore, the second group of compositions which Beethoven considered illustrative of his artistic ideals and worthy of publication. Nothing can be said with positiveness touching the time of their origin. Schönfeld’s words in his “Jahrbuch der Tonkunst von Wien und Prag”: “We already have several of his Sonatas, among which his last are particularly noteworthy,” which were written at least eight months before the Sonatas appeared in print, lead to the conclusion that the Sonatas were known in Vienna in manuscript in the spring of 1795. Their appearance in print was announced in the “Wiener Zeitung” of March 9, 1796.

Still another anecdote recorded by Wegeler refers to another composition of this period: “Beethoven was seated in a box at the opera with a lady of whom he thought much at a performance of ‘La Molinara.’ When the familiarNel cor più non mi sentowas reached the lady remarked that she had possessed some variations on the theme but had lost them. In the same night Beethoven wrote the six variations on the melody and the next morning sent them to the lady with the inscription:Variazioni, etc., Perdute par la—ritrovate par Luigi van Beethoven. They are so easy that it is likely Beethoven wished that she should be able to play them at sight.” Paisiello’s “La Molinara,” composed in 1788 for Naples, was performed on March 8, 1794 in the Court Opera, and again on June 24 and 27, 1795, in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater in Vienna. Considering the time of the publication of these unpretentious but genial little variations, their composition may be set down after the latter performances. At the same period Beethoven wrote variations on another theme (Quant’ è più bello) from the same opera, which were published before the former and dedicated to Prince Carl Lichnowsky. It is likely that a few more sets of variations, a form of composition for which Beethoven had astrong predilection at the time, had their origin in these early years of Beethoven’s life in Vienna. The Variations in C on the “Menuet à la Vigano” from the ballet “Le Nozze disturbate,” may confidently be assigned to the year 1795. The ballet was performed for the first time on May 18, 1795, at Schikaneder’s theatre; the Variations are advertised as published on February 27, 1796.

TheGesellschaft der bildenden Künstlerhad, in the year 1792, established an annual ball in the Redoutensaal in the month of November; and Haydn, just then returned covered with glory from England, composed a set of twelve minuets and twelve German dances for the occasion. In 1793, the Royal Imperial Composer Kozeluch followed Haydn’s example. In 1794, Dittersdorf wrote the same number of like dances for the large hall, and Eybler for the small. In view of this array of great names, and considering that as yet the Trios, Op. 1, were the only works of a higher order than the Variations which Beethoven had sent to press, the advertisements for the annual ball to be given upon the 22nd of November, 1795, give a vivid proof of the high reputation which the young man had gained as a composer now at the end of his third year in Vienna. These advertisements conclude thus: “The music for the Minuets and German dances for this ball is an entirely new arrangement. For the larger room they were written by the Royal Imperial Chapelmaster Süssmayr; for the smaller room by the master hand of Mr. Ludwig van Beethoven out of love for the artistic fraternity.” These dances, arranged for pianoforte by Beethoven himself, came from the press of Artaria a few weeks later, as did also Süssmayr’s; Beethoven’s name in the advertisement being in large and conspicuous type.

As the year began with the first, so it closed with Beethoven’s second appearance in public as composer and virtuoso; and here is the advertisement of the performance from the “Wiener Zeitung” of December 16:

Beethoven Pays Tribute to Haydn

Next Friday, the 18th instant, Mr. the Chapelmaster Haydn will give a grand musical concert in the small Redoutensaal, at which Mad. Tomeoni and Mr. Mombelli will sing. Mr. van Beethoven will play a Concerto of his composing on the Pianoforte, and three grand symphonies, not yet heard here, which the Chapelmaster composed during his last sojourn in London, will be performed.

One would gladly know what concerto was played.[74]But there was little public criticism then outside of London and veryrarely any in Vienna. The mere fact of the appearance of Beethoven at his old master’s concert is, however, another proof that too much stress has been laid upon a hasty word spoken by him to Ries. Haydn wanted that Beethoven should put “Pupil of Haydn” on the title-page of his first works. Beethoven was unwilling to do so because, as he said, “though he had taken some lessons from Haydn he had never learned anything from him.” Nothing could be more natural than for Haydn, knowing nothing of the studies of his pupil with Schenk, to express such a wish in relation to the Sonatas dedicated to him, and equally natural that the author should refuse; but to add to the attractions of the concert was a very different matter—a graceful and delicate compliment which he could with pleasure make.

This chapter may appropriately close with the one important family event of this year. The father, the mother, two infant brothers and two infant sisters slept in the churchyard at Bonn; but Ludwig, Caspar and Johann were never more to look upon their graves. The three brothers were now reunited. Vienna had become their new home and not one of them beheld the rushing Rhine again.

The Years 1796 and 1797—Beethoven in Prague and Berlin—King Frederick William II and Prince Louis Ferdinand—Himmel, Fasch and Zelter—Compositions and Publications.

The narrative resumes its course with the year 1796, the twenty-sixth of Beethoven’s life and his fourth in Vienna. If not yet officially, he wasde factodischarged from his obligations to the Elector Maximilian and all his relations with Bonn and its people were broken off. Vienna had become his home, and there is no reason to suppose that he ever afterwards cherished any real and settled purpose to exchange it for another—not even in 1809 when, for the moment, he had some thought of accepting Jerome Bonaparte’s invitation to Cassel.

He had now entered his course of contrapuntal study with Albrechtsberger; he was first of the pianoforte players of the capital and his name added attraction even to the concert which Haydn, returning again from his London triumphs, had given to introduce some of his new works to the Viennese; his “master-hand” was already publicly recognized in the field of musical composition; he counted many nobles of the higher ranks in his list of personal friends and had been, perhaps even now was, a member of Prince Carl Lichnowsky’s family. The change in his pecuniary condition might have thrown a more equitable temperament than his off its balance. Three years ago he anxiously noted down the few kreutzers occasionally spent for coffee or chocolate “für Haidn und mich”; now he keeps his own servant and a horse. His brothers, if at all a burden, were no longer a heavy one. Carl Caspar, according to the best information now obtainable, soon gained moderate success in the musical profession and, with probably some occasional aid from Ludwig both pecuniary and in obtaining pupils, earned sufficient for his comfortable support; while Johann had secured a situation in that apothecary shop “Zum Heiligen Geist” which, in 1860, was still to be seen in the Kärnthnerstrassenear the former site of the gate of that name.[75]His wages were, of course, small and we shall soon see that Ludwig offers him assistance if needed, though not to Karl; but Johann’s position gradually improved and he was able in a few years to save enough to enable him, unaided by his brother, to purchase and establish himself in a business of his own.[76]

“Fate had become propitious to Beethoven”; and a final citation from the memorandum book will show in what spirit he was determined to merit the continuance of Fortune’s favor. If we make allowance for the old error as to his real age, this citation may belong to a period a year or two later; but may it not be one of those extracts from books and periodical publications which all his life long he was so fond of making? This seems to be the more probable supposition. The words are these: “Courage! In spite of all bodily weaknesses my spirit shall rule. You have lived 25 years. This year must determine the complete man. Nothing must remain undone.”

And now let the chronological narrative of events be resumed. As the year 1795 had ended with a public appearance of Beethoven as pianoforte player and composer, so also began the year 1796; and, as on a former occasion in a concert by Haydn, so this time he played at a concert given by a singer, Signora Bolla, who afterward became famous, in the Redoutensaal. Again he played a pianoforte concerto.

Meeting of Friends in Nuremberg

“In 1796,” says Wegeler (“Nachträge,” p. 18), “the two older Breuning brothers, Christoph and Stephan, find him (Beethoven) at Nuremberg on a return journey to Vienna. Which journey is not specified. None of the three having a passport from Vienna they were all detained at Linz, but soon liberated through my intervention at Vienna.” And from a letter written by Stephan von Breuning to his mother, dated January, 1796, Wegeler quotes: “From Nuremberg, Beethoven travelled all the way in company with us. The three Bonnians thus attracted the attention of the police, who thought they had made a wonderful discovery. I do not believe that there could be a less dangerous man than Beethoven.” Wegeler’s suggestion that Beethoven was returning “perhaps from Berlin” is of course out of the question. But between the date of Haydn’s concert (December 18th) and Stephan von Breuning’s letter, if written towards the end of January, there was ample time, even in those days of post-coaches, for a journey to Prague andthence across the country to Mergentheim or Ellingen, at that time the temporary residences of Elector Maximilian. The necessity of Beethoven’s knowing precisely in what relation he was to stand with the Elector in the future, accounts sufficiently for his being in Nuremberg at that time, especially if he had had occasion to visit Prague during the Christmas holidays, which is not improbable. Dlabacz, in his “Künstler-Lexikon,” has a paragraph of which this is a part: “v. Beethoven, a Concertmaster on the pianoforte. In the year 1795, he gave an academy in Prague at which he played with universal approval.” It is true that Dlabacz may here record a concert given during Beethoven’s stay in the Bohemian capital some weeks later; but, on the one hand, no other notice of such a concert has been discovered; and, on the other, the “universal approval” on this occasion may have been an inducement for him to return thither so soon.

At all events, his delay in Vienna after coming from Nuremberg was short and was doubtless occupied with the last corrections of the Sonatas, Op. 2, dedicated to Haydn, the six Menuets (second part), the Variations on the theme from “Le Nozze disturbate” and those on “Nel cor più non mi sento,” all of which works are advertised in the “Wiener Zeitung” in the course of the next two months, while their author was again in Prague or cities farther North. For the following letter we are indebted to Madame van Beethoven, widow of the composer’s nephew, Carl:

To my brother Nicholaus Beethovento be delivered at the apothecary shop at the Kärnthner Thor Mr. von Z.[77]will please hand this letter to the wig-maker who will care for its delivery.Prague, February 19th (1796).Dear Brother!So that you may at least know where I am and what I am doing I must needs write you. In the first place I am getting on well—very well. My art wins for me friends and respect; what more do I want? This time, too, I shall earn considerable money. I shall remain here a few weeks more and then go to Dresden, Leipsic and Berlin. It will probably be six weeks before I shall return. I hope that you will be more and more pleased with your sojourn in Vienna; but beware of the whole guild of wicked women. Have you yet called on Cousin Elss? You might write to me at this place if you have inclination and time.F. Linowsky will probably soon return to Vienna; he has already gone from here. If you need money you may go to him boldly, for he still owes me some.For the rest I hope that your life will grow continually in happiness and to that end I hope to contribute something. Farewell, dear brother, and think occasionally ofYour true, faithful brotherL. Beethoven.Greetings to Brother Caspar.My address is The Golden Unicornon the Kleinseite.

To my brother Nicholaus Beethoven

to be delivered at the apothecary shop at the Kärnthner Thor Mr. von Z.[77]will please hand this letter to the wig-maker who will care for its delivery.

Prague, February 19th (1796).

Dear Brother!

So that you may at least know where I am and what I am doing I must needs write you. In the first place I am getting on well—very well. My art wins for me friends and respect; what more do I want? This time, too, I shall earn considerable money. I shall remain here a few weeks more and then go to Dresden, Leipsic and Berlin. It will probably be six weeks before I shall return. I hope that you will be more and more pleased with your sojourn in Vienna; but beware of the whole guild of wicked women. Have you yet called on Cousin Elss? You might write to me at this place if you have inclination and time.

F. Linowsky will probably soon return to Vienna; he has already gone from here. If you need money you may go to him boldly, for he still owes me some.

For the rest I hope that your life will grow continually in happiness and to that end I hope to contribute something. Farewell, dear brother, and think occasionally of

Your true, faithful brotherL. Beethoven.

Greetings to Brother Caspar.My address is The Golden Unicornon the Kleinseite.

A debt of gratitude is certainly due Johann van Beethoven for having carefully preserved this letter for full half a century and leaving it to his heirs, notwithstanding all the troubles which afterwards arose between the brothers, since it is hardly more valuable and interesting for the facts which it states directly than for what it indicates and suggests more or less clearly.

A Sojourn in Prague and its Fruits

It, with other considerations, render it well nigh certain that Beethoven had now come to Prague with Prince Lichnowsky as Mozart had done, seven years before, and that upon leaving Vienna he had had no intention of pursuing his journey farther; but encouraged by the success thus reported to his brother, he suddenly determined to seek instruction and experience, pleasure, profit and fame in an extended tour. Had he projected this journey already in Vienna, how could all recollection of it have been lost by Wegeler? How could von Breuning in the letter cited above have omitted all mention of it? Nor is it possible to think that Beethoven, still so young and still so unknown outside the Austrian and Bohemian capitals, having so many powerful and influential friends there, and there only, could at this time have gone forth to seek elsewhere some permanent position with a fixed salary. The remarks which have been preserved, made by him in writing or conversation, expressing a desire for such an appointment, all belong to a later period, and cannot by any torture of language be made to refer to this, when he was looking into the future with well-grounded hopes and serene confidence of advancement in his new home. Vienna seemed to offer him all his ambition could crave; why should he seek his fortune beyond her walls?

It is pleasant to note his care for the welfare of his brother Johann, which care, doubtless, the other brother did not need. But how could Prince Lichnowsky have been indebted to Ludwig?

The musical public of Prague was the same that had so recently honored itself by its instant and noble appreciation of Mozart, and had given so glorious a welcome to “Figaro,” “DonGiovanni” and “Titus.” There being no royal or imperial court there, and the public amusements being less numerous than in Vienna, the nobility were thrown more on their own resources for recreation; and hence, besides the traditional taste of the Bohemians for instrumental music, their capital was, perhaps, a better field for the virtuoso than Vienna. No notice of any public concert given by Beethoven on this visit has been discovered, either in the newspapers of the time or in the reminiscences of Thomaschek and others; and “the considerable money” earned “this time” must have been the presents of the nobility for his performances in their salons, and, perhaps, for compositions.

The conception of the aria “Ah, perfido! spergiuro” is generally associated with Beethoven’s sojourn in Prague. The belief rests upon the fact that upon the cover of a copy which he revised Beethoven wrote the words “Une grande Scène mise en musique par L. v. Beethoven à Prague, 1796.” On the first page is written:Recitativo e Aria composta e dedicata alla Signora Contessa di Clari da L. v. Beethoven. The opus number, 46, in this title is in the handwriting of Al. Fuchs, who owned a copy. Now, on November 21st, 1796, Madame Duschek, the well known friend of Mozart, at a concert in Leipsic sang “An Italian Scena composed for Madame Duschek by Beethoven,” and it was easy to conclude that the aria was really written by Beethoven for Madame Duschek. On a page of sketches preserved in Berlin among others there are sketches belonging to “Ah, perfido!” which do not agree with the printed page. On the lower margin of the first page is the remark:pour Mademoiselle la Comtesse de Clari. Nottebohm is led by these things to surmise that the aria was written in Vienna in 1795, before the visit to Prague. In any case, we are permitted to associate the date 1796 only with the completion of the work in Prague; and the purpose may well have been to have it sung by Madame Duschek, who is thus proved to have belonged to the circle of Beethoven’s friends in Prague. Nevertheless, the aria was originally intended for the Countess Josephine Clari, a well known amateur singer who married Count Christian Clam-Gallas in 1797. The scena first appeared in print in the fall of 1805, when it was published in a collection made by Hoffmeister and Kühnel. Beethoven placed it upon the programme of his concert in 1808.

Another family in which Beethoven was received on the footing of a friend was that of Appellate Councillor Kanka. Both father and son were dilettante composers and instrumental players—the father on the violoncello, the son on the pianoforte.Gerber gives them a place in his Lexicon. “Miss Jeanette” (the daughter), says the eulogistic Schönfeld, “played the pianoforte with great expression and skill.” The son adopted his father’s profession, became a distinguished writer on Bohemian law, and in later years did Beethoven good service as legal adviser.

There is in the Artaria collection, a thick fascicle of sketches and musical fragments from Beethoven’s hand in which papers from the Bonn period down to the close of the century are stitched together in such disorder as to show that they were thus joined merely for preservation. One sheet of mere sketches bears, if correctly deciphered, this inscription: “Written and dedicated to Gr. C. G. as a souvenir of his stay in P.” On the fourth page of the sheet stands “these 4 Bagtalles by B.” with something more illegible. May not some yet unknown composition of Beethoven be still in the possession of the family Clam-Gallas? Count Christian and his two daughters are numbered by Schönfeld among the fine pianoforte players of Prague, and these few notices exhaust the information obtained upon this visit of Beethoven there. His next appearance is in Berlin. No record has been found of the proposed visit to either Dresden or Leipsic, although his journey, it would seem, must have taken him through the Saxon capital.

Incidents of a Visit to Berlin

In after years he was fond of talking about his sojourn in Berlin, and some particulars have thus been preserved. “He played,” says Ries,

several times at court (that of King Frederick William II), where he played the two grand sonatas withobbligatovioloncello, Op. 5, written for Duport, first violoncellist of the King, and himself. On his departure he received a gold snuff-box filled with Louis d’ors. Beethoven declared with pride that it was not an ordinary snuff-box, but such an one as it might have been customary to give to an ambassador.

This king shared his uncle Frederick II’s love for music, while his taste was better and more cultivated. His instrument was the violoncello, and he often took part in quartets and sometimes in the rehearsals of Italian operas. He exerted a powerful and enduring influence for good upon the musical taste of Berlin. It was he who caused the operas of Gluck and Mozart to be performed there and introduced oratorios of Handel into the court concerts. His appreciation of Mozart’s genius, and his wish to attach that great master to his court, are well known; and these facts render credible a statement with which Carl Czerny closes a description of Beethoven’s extemporaneous playing contributed to Cock’s “London Musical Miscellany” (August 2nd, 1852):

His improvisation was most brilliant and striking. In whatever company he might chance to be, he knew how to produce such an effect upon every hearer that frequently not an eye remained dry, while many would break out into loud sobs; for there was something wonderful in his expression in addition to the beauty and originality of his ideas and his spirited style of rendering them. After ending an improvisation of this kind he would burst into loud laughter and banter his hearers on the emotion he had caused in them. “You are fools!” he would say. Sometimes he would feel himself insulted by these indications of sympathy. “Who can live among such spoiled children?” he would cry, and only on that account (as he told me) he declined to accept an invitation which the King of Prussia gave him after one of the extemporary performances above described.

Chapelmaster Reichardt had withdrawn himself from Berlin two years before, having fallen into disfavor because of his sympathy with the French Revolution. Neither Himmel nor Righini, his successors, ever showed a genius for chamber music of a high order, and, indeed, there was no composer of reputation in this sphere then living in that quarter. The young Beethoven by his two sonatas had proved his powers and the King saw in him precisely the right man to fill the vacancy—no small proof of superior taste and judgment. What the German expression was which the translator of Czerny’s letter has rendered “accept an invitation which the King gave him” there is no means of knowing; but as it stands it can only mean an invitation to enter permanently into his service. The death of the King the next year, of course, prevented its being ever renewed.

Friedrich Heinrich Himmel, five years older than Beethoven, whom the King had withdrawn from the study of theology and caused to be thoroughly educated as a musician, first under Naumann in Dresden and afterwards in Italy, had returned the year before and had assumed his duties as Royal Pianist and Composer. As a virtuoso on his instrument his only rival in Berlin was Prince Louis Ferdinand, son of Prince August and nephew of Frederick II, two years younger than Beethoven and endowed by nature with talents and genius which would have made him conspicuous had fortune not given him royal descent. He and Beethoven became well known to each other and each felt and did full justice to the other’s musical genius and attainments. Now let Ries speak again:

Meetings with Himmel, Fasch and Zelter

In Berlin he (Beethoven) associated much with Himmel, of whom he said that he had a pretty talent, but no more; his pianoforte playing, he said, was elegant and pleasing, but he was not to be compared with Prince Louis Ferdinand. In his opinion he paid the latter a high compliment when once he said to him that his playing was not that of aking or prince but more like that of a thoroughly good pianoforte player. He fell out with Himmel in the following manner: One day when they were together Himmel begged Beethoven to improvise; which Beethoven did. Afterwards Beethoven insisted that Himmel do the same. The latter was weak enough to agree; but after he had played for quite a time Beethoven remarked: “Well, when are you going fairly to begin?” Himmel had flattered himself that he had already performed wonders; he jumped up and the men behaved ill towards each other. Beethoven said to me: “I thought that Himmel had been only preluding a bit.” Afterwards they were reconciled, indeed, but Himmel could never forgive or forget[78]. They also exchanged letters until Himmel played Beethoven a shabby trick. The latter always wanted to know the news from Berlin. This bored Himmel, who at last wrote that the greatest news from Berlin was that a lamp for the blind had been invented. Beethoven ran about with the news and all the world wanted to know how this was possible. Thereupon he wrote to Himmel that he had blundered in not giving more explicit information. The answer which he received, but which does not permit of communication, not only put an end to the correspondence but brought ridicule upon Beethoven, who was so inconsiderate as to show it then and there.

With Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch and Carl Friedrich Zelter he also made a friendly acquaintance, and twice at least attended meetings of theSingakademie, which then numbered about 90 voices. The first time, June 21st, says the “Geschichte der Singakademie”:

A chorale, the first three numbers of the mass and the first six of the 119th Psalm were sung for him. Hereupon he seated himself at the pianoforte and played an improvisation on the theme of the final fugue: “Meine Zunge rühmt im Wettgesang dein Lob.” The last numbers of “Davidiana” (a collection of versets by Fasch) formed the conclusion. No biographer has mentioned this visit or even his sojourn in Berlin. Nor does Fasch pay special attention to it; but the performance must have pleased, for it was repeated at the meeting on the 28th.

The performance of the Society must also have pleased Beethoven, and with good reason; for Fasch’s mass was in sixteen parts and the psalm and “Davidiana,” in part, in eight; and no such music was then to be heard elsewhere north of the Alps.

In 1810, Beethoven, speaking of his playing on that occasion, told Mme. von Arnim (then Elizabeth Brentano) that at the close his hearers did not applaud but came crowding around him weeping; and added, ironically, “that is not what we artists wish—we want applause!” Fasch’s simple record of Beethoven’s visit is this:

June 21, 1796. Mr. van Beethoven extemporized on the “Davidiana,” taking the fugue theme from Ps. 119, No. 16.... Mr. Beethoven,pianist from Vienna, was so accommodating as to permit us to hear an improvisation. . . . June 28, Mr. van Beethoven was again so obliging as to play an improvisation for us.

Early in July, the King left Berlin for the baths of Pyrmont, the nobility dispersed to their estates or to watering-places, and the city “was empty and silent.” Beethoven, therefore, could have had no inducement to prolong his stay; but the precise time of his departure is unknown. Schindler names Leipsic as one of the cities in which, during this tour, Beethoven “awakened interest and created a sensation by his pianoforte playing, and, particularly, by his brilliant improvisation”; but no allusion in any public journal of that or any subsequent period, not even the faintest tradition, has been discovered to confirm the evidently erroneous statements. Moreover, Rochlitz in his account of a visit to the composer in 1822 remarks, “I had not yet seen Beethoven”; and again, “It was only as a youth that he ... passed through (Leipsic).” So, until some new discovery be made, this must also find its place in the long list of Schindler’s mistakes.

Notwithstanding Wegeler’s statement (“Notizen,” 28) that he left Beethoven a member of the family of Prince Lichnowsky “in the middle of 1796,” it is as certain as circumstantial evidence can well make it that the Doctor and Christoph von Breuning had returned to Bonn before Beethoven reached Vienna again; but Stephan and Lenz were still there. The former obtained at this time an appointment in the Teutonic Order, which so many of his ancestors had served, and his name appears in the published “Calendars of the Order” from 1797 to 1803, both inclusive, as “Hofrathsassessor.” He then soon departed from Vienna to Mergentheim, whence he wrote (November 23rd) with other matters the following upon Beethoven to Wegeler and Christoph:

I do not know whether or not Lenz has written you anything about Beethoven; but take notice that I saw him in Vienna and that according to my mind, which Lenz has confirmed, he has become somewhat staider, or, perhaps I should say, has acquired more knowledge of humanity through travels (or was it because of the new ebullition of friendship on his arrival?) and a greater conviction of the scarceness and value of good friends. A hundred times, dear Wegeler, he wishes you here again, and regrets nothing so much as that he did not follow much of your advice. (“Notizen,” page 19.)

Except this notice of his bearing and demeanor, there is a complete hiatus in Beethoven’s history from his appearance in theSingakademieuntil the following November. The so-called Fischoff Manuscript has, it is true, a story of a “dangerous illness”which was caused by his own imprudence this summer; but as it is in date utterly irreconcilable with other known facts, it will receive its due consideration hereafter. The most plausible suggestion is that coming back, flushed with victory, with the success of his tour and delighted with the novelty of travelling at his ease, he made that excursion to Pressburg and Pesth of which afterwards Ries was informed and made record (“Notizen,” page 109), but of which no other account is known.

Attempts at Patriotic Music

And thus we come to November. This was the year of that astounding series of victories ending at Arcole, gained by the young French general Napoleon Bonaparte. The Austrian government and people alike saw and feared the danger of invasion, a general uprising took place and volunteer corps were formed in all quarters. For the Vienna corps, Friedelberg wrote his “Abschiedsgesang an Wiens Bürger beim Auszug der Fahnen-Division der Wiener Freiwilliger,” and Beethoven set it to music. The original printed edition bears date “November 15, 1795.” It does not appear to have gained any great popularity, and a drinking-song (“Lasst das Herz uns froh erheben”) was afterwards substituted for Friedelberg’s text, and published by Schott in Mayence.

The rapid progress of the French army had caused the Germans in Italy to become distrustful of the future and to hasten homeward. Among them were Beethoven’s old companions in the Bonn orchestra, the cousins Andreas and Bernhard Romberg, who in the spring of this year (May 26th), had kissed the hand of the Queen of Naples, daughter of the Empress Maria Theresia, and then departed to Rome to join another friend of the Bonn period, Karl Kügelgen. The three coming north arrived at Vienna in the autumn; the Rombergs remained there for a space with Beethoven, while Kügelgen proceeded to Berlin. Baron von Braun—not to be mistaken for Beethoven’s “first Mæcenas” the Russian Count Browne—had heard the cousins the year before in Munich and invited them “to give Vienna an opportunity to hear them.” There is no notice of their concert in the Vienna newspapers of the period, and the date is unknown. From Lenz von Breuning is gleaned an additional fact which alone gives interest to the concert for us. He writes to Wegeler in January, 1797—not 1796, as erroneously printed in the appendix to the “Notizen,” page 20—and after the meeting with the von Breunings at Nuremberg:

Beethoven is here again;[79]he played in the Romberg concert. He is the same as of old and I am glad that he and the Rombergs still get along with each other. Once he was near a break with them; I intercededand achieved my end to a fair extent. Moreover, he thinks a great deal of me just now.

It it clear that the Rombergs, under the circumstances, must have largely owed their limited success to Beethoven’s name and influence. In February, 1797, they were again in their old positions in Schroeder’s orchestra in Hamburg.

Beethoven during this winter must be imagined busily engaged with pupils and private concerts, perhaps also with his operatic studies with Salieri, certainly with composition and with preparation for and the oversight of various works then passing through the press; for in February and April, Artaria advertises the two Violoncello Sonatas, Op. 5, the Pianoforte Sonata for four hands, Op. 6, the Trio, Op. 3, the Quintet, Op. 4, and the Twelve Variations on a Danse Russe; these last are the variations which he dedicated to the Countess Browne and which gave occasion for the anecdote related by Ries illustrating Beethoven’s forgetfulness; for this dedication he had

received a handsome riding-horse from Count Browne as a gift. He rode the animal a few times, soon after forgot all about it and, worse than that, its food also. His servant, who soon noticed this, began to hire out the horse for his own benefit and, in order not to attract the attention of Beethoven to the fact, for a long time withheld from him all bills for fodder. At length, however, to Beethoven’s great amazement he handed in a very large one, which recalled to him at once his horse and his neglectfulness. (“Notizen,” page 120.)

On Thursday, April 6, 1797, Schuppanzigh gave a concert, on the programme of which Beethoven’s name figured twice. Number 2 was an “Aria by Mr. van Beethoven, sung by Madame Tribolet (-Willmann);” No. 3 was “a Quintet for Pianoforte and 4 wind-instruments, played and composed by Mr. L. v. Beethoven.” This was the beautiful Quintet, Op. 16, the time of whose origin is thus more definitely indicated than in the “Chronologisches Verzeichniss,” a fact for which we are indebted to Nottebohm.

But the war was renewed and the thoughts of the Viennese were occupied with matters more serious than the indulgence of their musical taste. On the 16th of March, Bonaparte forced the passage of the Tagliamento and Isonzo. During the two weeks following he had conquered the greater part of Carniola, Carinthia and the Tyrol, and was now rapidly approaching Vienna. On the 11th of February, Lorenz Leopold Hauschka’s “Gott erhalte unsern Kaiser” with Haydn’s music had been sung for the first time in the theatre and now, when, on April 7th, the Landsturm was called out, Friedelberg produced his war-song “Ein grosses, deutsches Volksind wir,” to which Beethoven also gave music. The printed copy bears date April 14th, suggesting the probability that it was sung on the occasion of the grand consecration of the banners which took place on the Glacis on the 17th. Beethoven’s music was, however, far from being so fortunate as Haydn’s, and seems to have gained as little popularity as his previous attempt; but as the preliminaries to a treaty of peace were signed at Leoben on the 18th, and the armies, so hastily improvised, were dismissed three weeks afterwards, the taste for war-songs vanished.

A Quiet and Uneventful Period

The little that is known of Beethoven’s position as a teacher at this period is very vague and unsatisfactory; enough, however, to render it sufficiently certain that he had plenty of pupils, many of them young ladies of high rank who paid him generously. In the triple capacity of teacher, composer and pianist his gains were large and he was able to write in May to Wegeler that he was doing well and steadily better.

It is very possible that the illness mentioned by the Fischoff Manuscript may have occurred during this summer. There can be little doubt that the original authority for the statement is Zmeskall, and therefore the fact of such an attack may be accepted as certain, but the date—being, as there given, clearly wrong, as well as the inference that in it lay the original cause of the composer’s subsequent loss of hearing—must be left mainly to conjecture. From May to November, 1797, Beethoven’s history is still a blank and nothing but the utter silence of Lenz von Breuning in his correspondence with his family at Bonn on a topic so likely to engage his sympathies as the dangerous illness of his friend, appears to prevent the filling of this blank in part by throwing him upon a bed of sickness. True, Lenz may have written and the letter have been lost or destroyed; or he may have neglected to write because of his approaching departure from Vienna, which took place in the autumn. His album, still preserved, has among its contributors Ludwig and Johann van Beethoven and Zmeskall. Ludwig wrote as follows:

Truth exists for the wise,Beauty for a feeling heart:They belong to each other.Dear, good Breuning;Never shall I forget the time which I spent with you in Bonn as well as here. Hold fast your friendship for me; you will always find me the same.Your true friendL. v. Beethoven.Vienna 1797the 1st of October.

Truth exists for the wise,Beauty for a feeling heart:They belong to each other.

Dear, good Breuning;

Never shall I forget the time which I spent with you in Bonn as well as here. Hold fast your friendship for me; you will always find me the same.

Your true friendL. v. Beethoven.

Vienna 1797the 1st of October.

They never met again. Lenz died on April 10th of the following year. In November, Beethoven enjoyed a singular compliment paid him by the association of theBildende Künstler—a repetition of his minuets and trios composed two years before for the artists’ ball; and on the 23rd of December, he again contributed to the attractions of the Widows’ and Orphans’ Concert by producing the Variations for two Oboes and English Horn on “Là ci darem la mano,” played by Czerwenka, Reuter and Teimer. His publications in 1797, besides those mentioned at the beginning of the year, were the Twelve Variations for Pianoforte and Violoncello on the theme from Handel’s “Judas Maccabæus,” precise date unknown; the Pianoforte Sonata, Op. 7; and the Serenade, Op. 8, both advertised by Artaria and Co., October 7th. Finally, the Rondo in C, Op. 51, No. 1, published by Artaria with the catalogue number 711.

We come to a consideration of the facts touching the compositions of the years 1796 and 1797.

The Composition of “Adelaide”

Among the most widely known of these is “Adelaide.” The composition of this song must have been begun in the first half of 1795, if not earlier, for sketches of it are found among the exercises in double counterpoint written for Albrechtsberger. Other sheets containing sketches for “Adelaide” and the setting of Bürger’s “Seufzer eines Ungeliebten” are preserved in the library of theGesellschaft der Musikfreundein Vienna and the British Museum in London. The song was published by Artaria in 1797, under the title “Adelaide von Matthisson. Eine Kantate für eine Singstimme mit Begleitung des Klaviers. In Musik gesetzt und dem Verfasser gewidmet von Ludwig van Beethoven.” The opus number 46 was given to it later. In 1800 Beethoven sent a copy of the song to the poet and accompanied it with the following letter:

Most honored Sir!You are herewith receiving from me a composition which has been in print for several years, but concerning which you probably, to my shame, know nothing. Perhaps I can excuse myself and explain how it came about that I dedicated something to you which came so warmly from my heart yet did not inform you of the fact, by saying that at first I was unaware of your place of residence, and partly also I was diffident, not knowing but that I had been over-hasty in dedicating a work to you without knowing whether or not it met with your approval.Even now I send you “Adelaide” with some timidity. You know what changes are wrought by a few years in an artist who is continually going forward; the greater the progress one makes in art the lessone is satisfied with one’s older works. My most ardent wish will be fulfilled if my musical setting of your heavenly “Adelaide” does not wholly displease you, and if it should move you soon to write another poem of its kind, and you, not finding my request too immodest, should send it to me at once, I will put forth all my powers to do your beautiful poetry justice. Look upon the dedication as partly a token of the delight which the composition of your A. gave me, partly as an evidence of my gratitude and respect for the blessed pleasure which your poetry has always given,and always willgive me.When playing “Adelaide” sometimes recallyour sincere admirerBeethoven.Vienna, August 4th, 1800.

Most honored Sir!

You are herewith receiving from me a composition which has been in print for several years, but concerning which you probably, to my shame, know nothing. Perhaps I can excuse myself and explain how it came about that I dedicated something to you which came so warmly from my heart yet did not inform you of the fact, by saying that at first I was unaware of your place of residence, and partly also I was diffident, not knowing but that I had been over-hasty in dedicating a work to you without knowing whether or not it met with your approval.

Even now I send you “Adelaide” with some timidity. You know what changes are wrought by a few years in an artist who is continually going forward; the greater the progress one makes in art the lessone is satisfied with one’s older works. My most ardent wish will be fulfilled if my musical setting of your heavenly “Adelaide” does not wholly displease you, and if it should move you soon to write another poem of its kind, and you, not finding my request too immodest, should send it to me at once, I will put forth all my powers to do your beautiful poetry justice. Look upon the dedication as partly a token of the delight which the composition of your A. gave me, partly as an evidence of my gratitude and respect for the blessed pleasure which your poetry has always given,and always willgive me.

When playing “Adelaide” sometimes recallyour sincere admirerBeethoven.

Vienna, August 4th, 1800.

Whether or not Matthisson answered this letter is not known; but when he republished “Adelaide” in the first volume of his collected poems in 1815, he appended to it a note to this effect: “Several composers have vitalized this little lyric fantasy with music; but according to my strong conviction none of them so threw the text into the shade with his melody as the highly gifted Ludwig van Beethoven in Vienna.” The “Opferlied,” the words of which were also written by Matthisson, is one of the poems to which Beethoven repeatedly recurred. “It seems always to have presented itself to him as a prayer,” says Nottebohm. Its last words, “The beautiful to the good,” were written in autograph albums even in his later years. The origin of the composition is to be ascribed to 1795, as Nottebohm enters it in his catalogue. It was thus possible for Wegeler to know it in 1797, when he put a Masonic text under the music. It had not yet been published at that time, however, which fact accounts for the discovery of sketches for it in a sketchbook of 1798-1799 described by Nottebohm.

It was not published until later, probably in 1808, when it came with two other songs from the press of Simrock. Beethoven composed the poem a second time, utilizing the beginning of his first melody, for solo, chorus and orchestra (Op. 121b). To this setting we shall recur hereafter. There is still another song which must be brought into the story of this period. It is the “Seufzer eines Ungeliebten,” with its two parts based on two independent but related poems by Bürger. Particular interest attaches to the second part, “Gegenliebe,” from the fact that its melody was used afterward by Beethoven for the variations in the “Choral Fantasia,” Op. 80. Sketches for this melody are found associated with sketches for “Adelaide” on a sheet in the archives of theGesellschaft der Musikfreunde. Nottebohm fixes the year of thesong’s origin as 1795. It was first published as late as 1837 by Diabelli along with the song, “Turteltaube, du klagest,” which was composed much later. The Italian song, “O care selve, o cara felice libertà” (from Metastasio’s “Olimpiade”), entered under number 1264 in Thayer’s “Chronologisches Verzeichniss,” appears as a chorus for three voices at the end of the Albrechtsberger exercises, and hence may be placed in the year 1795, as is done by Nottebohm, who adds that it originated simultaneously with the setting of “Wer ist ein freier Mann?” Here mention must also be made of two arias which Beethoven wrote for introduction in Umlauf’s comic opera “Die schöne Schusterin.” These songs were assigned to the Bonn period in the first edition of this biography because the opera was performed in Bonn in the years 1789 and 1790. The two songs composed by Beethoven are an arietta, or rather strophic song, “O welch’ ein Leben,” for tenor, and an aria, “Soll ein Schuh nicht drücken?” for soprano. The words of the latter are in the original libretto. The words of the tenor song, though not part of the original text, were obviously written for the opera. The melody was afterward used by Beethoven as a setting for Goethe’s “Mailied,” published in 1805, as Op. 52. Both songs, as written for the opera, were published for the first time in the Complete Edition of Beethoven’s works from the copies preserved in the Berlin Library.

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