LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN

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THE town of Louvain, in Belgium, is now a dull place, with a HÔtel de Ville, Gothic church, detestable beer, and about 34,000 inhabitants. In the 14th century it was the capital of the Duchy of Brabant, the residence of the princes, the home of 2,000 manufactories. Near this city, whose ruin was wrought by turbulent weavers, are villages called Rotselaer, LeefdÆl, and Berthem; and in the 16th century people by the name of Van Beethoven were found in these same villages or hard by. If LÉon de Burbure's researches are not in vain, these Van Beethovens were simple Flemish peasants, who ate beans during the week, and on a Sunday welcomed the sight of bacon. Van is not in Dutch a sign of nobility. Nor was the spelling of the name invariable. It was Biethoven, Biethoffen, Bethof, Betthoven; and there were other variations.

About 1650 one of these farmers grew weary of the smell of fresh earth and the life with the beasts of the field, and he entered into Antwerp to make his fortune. There he married, begot a son, and named him Guillaume; and Guillaume was the great-great-grandfather of the composer of the Nine Symphonies. Guillaume, or Wilhelm, grew up, trafficked in wines, was apparently a man of parts, and was held in esteem. He married Catherine Grandjean. He named one of his eight children Henri-AdÉlard, and this Henri, the godson of the Baron de Rocquigny, became a prominent tailor, and wedded Catherine de Herdt, by whom he had a dozen children. The third, a son, was baptized Dec. 23, 1712, and his name was Louis. Louis was brought up in the Antwerp choirs, and there seems to be no doubt that he received a thorough musical education. His father, Henri, a year after the birth of Louis, fell into poverty, and it is probable that the boy, following the fortunes of some choir-master, lived for a time at Ghent. In 1731 he was a singer in Louvain. In 1733 he was named a musician of the court of the Elector of Cologne at Bonn. His salary was fixed at about $160, and he married, in September, 1733, Maria Josepha Poll, aged nineteen. Louis, or Ludwig, prospered. He rose from "Musicus" to "Herr Kapellmeister." Maria, his wife, with increasing good fortune and the addition of a wine shop to music lessons, took to drink, and died in 1775 in a convent at Cologne. Johann, their son, born towards the end of 1739 or in the beginning of 1740, inherited her thirst. He sang tenor and received his appointment as court singer March 27, 1756. For thirteen years he had served without pay as soprano, contralto, and tenor, and in 1764 he was granted one hundred thalers by Maximilian Friedrich, who had succeeded Clemens August as Elector. In 1767 he married Maria Magdalena Kewerich, the widow of Johann Laym, a valet. Maria was the daughter of a head cook, nineteen, comely, slender, soft-hearted. Old Ludwig objected to the match on account of the low social position of the woman. The young couple lived in the house No. 515 in the Bonngasse. Ludwig Maria was born in 1769 and lived six days. Ludwig, the great composer, was baptized the 17th of December, 1770, and he was probably born the day before the baptism. Of the five children born afterward, only Caspar Anton (1774-1815) and Nikolaus Johann (1776-1848) grew up. A brother, August, lived two years; a sister, Anna, four days, and Maria Margaretha about a year.

BEETHOVEN'S BIRTHPLACE IN BONN.

The seat of the electoral government of Cologne was transferred in 1257 from Cologne to Bonn. The ecclesiastical principality was a source of large revenue to the Elector, and his income was derived from rights of excise and navigation, church dues, benefits of games and lotteries, and secret sums paid the Elector by Austria and France for serving their interests. The Elector was also powerful in politics, and he had the privilege of putting Charlemagne's crown on the head of the emperor at Aix-la-Chapelle. The founder of the musical organization in Bonn was Joseph Clemens, ugly, humpbacked, witty, fond of practical jokes, music-mad. He was continually chasing after artists of merit. He introduced French and Flemish musicians. In 1722 the state of the electoral music-chapel was as follows: a director-in-chief of singing, and two concert-masters; six musicians who were sub-chiefs, organists, etc.; twelve singers, men and women, and to them must be added choir boys, and assistants chosen from the domestics of the court; seventeen players of stringed instruments; four trumpets, two horns and two drums; six players of oboes and bassoons. Joseph died in 1724. Clemens August succeeded him, and shared his musical taste. He in turn was followed in 1761 by Maximilian Friedrich, whose habits were sumptuous; but his prime minister cut down the expenses. He dismissed comedians, lessened the number of concerts, and so the Beethoven family suffered in pocket.

The death of the first grandchild healed the breach between old Ludwig and Johann. The old man died in 1773, but his grandson Ludwig remembered him and preserved his portrait painted by Radoux to the day of his own death. Dressed in court costume and wrapped in a red cloak, with great and sparkling eyes, he made an indelible impression on the three-year-old boy, as on his neighbors, who respected and admired him. It was his father who first taught Ludwig the rudiments of his art. It is said, and the reports are unanimous, that when the boy was hardly four years old, he was obliged to practise for hours on the pianoforte, and was often urged by blows. He was soon put under the instruction of Tobias Pfeiffer, the tenor of a strolling company. Pfeiffer was a good musician and a man of unquenchable thirst. Johann and he would spend hours in the tavern; and Pfeiffer, suddenly remembering that his pupil had received no lesson that day, would return home, drag him from his bed, and keep him at the instrument until daybreak. Or, locked in a room, young Ludwig practised the violin, and he was kept there until he had finished the daily allotted task. At the primary school he learned to read, write, and reckon. Before he was thirteen, his father declared that his scholastic education was finished. This limited education was a source of mortification to Beethoven throughout his life, and no doubt influenced strongly his character. He spelled atrociously, he was never sure of the proper expression, and the washerwoman disputed angrily his addition and subtraction.

After the death of the grandfather poverty entered the house. The second-hand buyer became the warm friend of the family, and the household furniture fed Johann's appetite. In response to a singular petition of the tenor, a pension of sixty thalers was granted to the poor woman in the convent at Cologne, who died a few months after it was given to her. Beethoven's patient mother was always sewing and mending, and the baker at least was paid. Meanwhile Johann meditated over his cups the possibility of fortune gained by his son. Pfeiffer left Bonn. The boy took a few lessons of Van den Eeden. They were gratuitous; the teacher was old and infirm; and Neefe, who succeeded Van den Eeden, took charge of Ludwig and gave him his first instruction in composition. Neefe was an excellent musician. The son of a tailor, he first studied law, and gained the title of "Doctor" by his thesis "A father has no right to disinherit his son because the latter has turned opera-singer." Now Neefe left on record a description of Ludwig at the age of eleven, which was published in Cramer's Music Magazine. According to him Beethoven played the pianoforte with "energetic skill." He played "fluently" Bach's "Well-tempered Clavichord." "To encourage him he had nine variations which the child wrote on a march theme engraved at Mannheim. This young genius deserves a subsidy that he may travel. If he goes on as he has begun, he will certainly be a second Mozart." Years after, Beethoven acknowledged gladly his many obligations to this master. In 1782 Neefe went to Munster for a visit, and Ludwig, then eleven years and a half old, took his place at the organ. In the following year he was promoted to the position of maestro al cembalo, i.e., he assisted at operatic rehearsals and played the pianoforte at the performances. During these years, operas by GrÉtry, Piccini, Cimarosa, Guglielmi, SÁcchini, Sarti, Monsigny, Gluck, and Mozart were given. According to the recollections of those who then knew him, he was sombre, melancholy. He did not enter into the sports of his age. Once a year he assisted in the celebration of the birthday of his mother. There was music, there was drinking, and there was eating; there was dancing in stockings, so that the neighbors might not be disturbed.

Beethoven's first authenticated likeness—a silhouette by Neesen, made between 1787 and 1789.

In 1783, Beethoven published the first three sonatas, dedicated to the Elector. A year after, he was named second-organist, through the intervention of Neefe and Count Salm, but "without appointments." Maximilian died in 1784, and Maximilian of Austria, the brother of Marie Antoinette, ruled in his stead. He at once began the work of reforming the court-music. In a record of the day, Johann is spoken of as a worn-out singer, "but he has been long in service and is very poor." Ludwig is referred to as a possible successor to Neefe, and they could secure him for about $60 a year. "He is poor, very young, and the son of a court musician." In July, 1784, Ludwig was awarded a salary of $60, although Neefe was not removed; and at the installation of the new Elector in 1785, the boy, in court dress with sword at side, was permitted to kiss the hands of his august master.

At that time Bonn was a sleepy town of about 10,000 inhabitants, who were chiefly priests and people of the court. There were no factories; there was no garrison, and the only soldiers were the body guard of the elector. The theatre was in a wing of the palace. Strolling companies tarried there for a season. Concerts, or "academies," as they were called, were given in a handsome hall. The musicians lived bunched together in a quarter of the town. Franz Ries, the violinist; the horn player, Simrock, the founder of the publishing house; the singing daughters of Salomon;—these worthy people were neighbors of the Beethovens. There were many skilled amateurs in society. The Elector himself was passionately fond of music; he played the viola and the pianoforte.

There is a story that in 1781, Ludwig made a concert tour in Holland, or at least played in Rotterdam, but, with this possible exception, he did not leave Bonn from his birth until the spring of 1787, and then he went to Vienna. The Elector probably paid the expenses, and he gave him a letter to Mozart. This great composer was apt to look askew at any infant phenomenon. He listened at first impatiently to the playing of Beethoven, but when the latter invented a fantasia on a given theme, Mozart said to the hearers, "Pay attention to this youngster; he will make a noise in the world, one of these days." He gave the boy a few lessons. There is a story that Beethoven also met the Emperor Joseph. His stay was cut short by lack of money and the news that his mother was dying. In July, Franz Ries paid her burial expenses. Johann kept on drinking, and his son, who was now the head of the house, rescued him occasionally from the hands of the police. In 1789 it was decreed that a portion of the father's salary should be paid to the son, and December 18, 1792, the unfortunate man died. The Elector, in a letter to Marshall Schall, pronounced this funeral oration: "Beethoven is dead; it is a serious loss to the duties on spirits."

Ludwig looked after the education of his brothers; Caspar learned music, and Johann was put under the Court Apothecary. And now he found devoted friends in Count Waldstein and the Breuning family. The widow von Breuning was a woman of society, accomplished and kind-hearted. She was one of the few people who had an influence over the actions of Beethoven, and her influence was no doubt strengthened by the sweetness of her daughter Eleonore. He gave Eleonore lessons, and she in turn acquainted him with the German poets, and Homer and Shakespeare. Was he in love with her? We know that he was of amorous temperament. Dr. Wegeler, Stephen von Breuning, Ries, Romberg, all bear witness that he was never without an object of passion in his heart. Mr. Thayer says that we have no proof that Beethoven loved her, but such affairs are not often matters for cross-examination and a jury. No doubt the susceptible young man was smitten deeply with every fair girl he met, and in the new-comer forgot the old flame. There was Miss Jeannette d'Honrath of Cologne; there was Miss Westerhold, whose eyes he remembered for forty years; nor must pretty Babette Koch be forgotten, the daughter of a tavern keeper, and afterward a Countess. And so he passed his days in music, conversation, and innocent pleasures. He went with the Elector to Mergentheim; at Aschaffenburg he played in friendly rivalry with the AbbÉ Sterkel. It was at Mergentheim that the modest and unassuming pianist touched hearts by his telling, suggestive, expressive improvisations; for so Chaplain Junker bore record. In 1792, Haydn passed through Bonn on his return from London to Vienna, and praised a cantata by Beethoven on the succession of Leopold II., and in November of the same year Ludwig left Bonn for ever. The Elector realized the extent of his genius, and gave him a small pension. The political condition of France affected the Rhenish town; there was panic, and in October there was a general exodus. His many friends bade Beethoven warm God-speed, and Count Waldstein in a letter prayed him to receive "through unbroken industry from the hands of Haydn the spirit of Mozart." Nearly twenty-two, he was known chiefly by the remarkable facility of his extempore playing, and the record of his compositions during the Bonn period is insignificant. At the age of twenty-three, Mozart was famous as a writer of operas, symphonies, cantatas, and masses, and his pieces were in number about three hundred.

BEETHOVEN.

Miniature portrait on ivory painted by C. Hernemann, in 1802.

On his arrival at Vienna he bought clothing and took dancing lessons, that he might be an acceptable guest in houses to which he was recommended by Count Waldstein. He never was able to dance, by the way, for he could not keep step to the music. The 12th of December, he recorded the fact that he had only about $35. The Elector, fearing hard times, did not fulfill his first promises. Beethoven took a garret,—and afterwards moved to a room on the ground-floor—in a printer's house in the Alservorstadt; there he began a student-life of three years. He took lessons of Haydn, and although they drank coffee and chocolate at Beethoven's expense, the lessons were unsatisfactory. Haydn looked on the pupil as a musical atheist, who had not the fear of Fux before his eyes, and the pupil thought that Haydn was not diligent and that he did not correct carefully his mistakes. "It is true he gave me lessons," he once said to Ries, "but he taught me nothing." Then he took secretly lessons of Schenk, and when Haydn went to London in 1794, he put himself under the rigid disciplinarian Albrechtsberger. He studied with Salieri the art of writing for the voice and the stage. He also took lessons on the viola, violin, violoncello, clarinet and horn. There were a few exceptions, but Beethoven was unpopular with his masters. They considered him obstinate and arrogant. Haydn spoke of him as "the great Mogul"; Albrechtsberger once said, "He has learned nothing, and will never do anything in decent style." Nor was Beethoven's continual "I say it is right" calculated to win the affection of his masters.

BEETHOVEN AND MOZART.

Reproduced from a photograph of a painting in which the two composers are not faithfully represented, as may be seen by referring to authenticated portraits.

Meanwhile Beethoven made influential friends. Vienna at that time numbered about 250,000 inhabitants. The life was gay, even frivolous. Reichardt considered the city a most agreeable dwelling place for musicians. "You find there a rich, educated, and hospitable aristocracy, devoted to music; the middle class is wealthy and intelligent; and the common people, jolly and good-natured, have always a song in the mouth." Princes hired orchestra and singers for their own theatres. Others had musicians in their employment, and even those in moderate circumstances retained an organist or pianist. These Viennese were the patrons of composers who wrote especially for them. In common with other South Germans they were pleased with music that appealed to the heart rather than to the brain, and the neighborhood of Italy influenced their melodies and taste. This influence was also marked in the sympathetic performance of the Vienna players, for the abandon and the swing were opposed to the rigidity of Northern orchestras. The amateurs were many and of the noblest families. There was Van Swieten who bowed the knee to Handel; Count Kinsky, whose son was in after years the devoted friend of Beethoven; Prince Lobkowitz, who played the violin and spent his fortune in the pursuit of musical pleasure; the Esterhazy family; Von Rees and Von Meyer; and princes and counts without number, in whose houses symphonies, oratorios, and chamber music were performed from manuscript. Public concerts were then rare. The court opera house was devoted to Italian opera; at the Theatre Marinelli German operettas were seen; at the theatre an der Wien, farces and operettas were given. The chief composers in Vienna were Haydn, Salieri, Weizl, Schenk, SÜssmayr, Wranitzky, Kozeluch, FÖrster, Eberl and Vanhall.

Two of the warmest friends of Beethoven were the Prince Lichnowsky and his wife, formerly the Countess of Thun. They mourned the death of Mozart, and saw in Haydn's pupil a possible successor. In 1794 they took Beethoven to their house and humored him and petted him. They were childless, and their affection was spent on the rude, hot-tempered, trying young man. The princess saw through the rugged exterior, and the stories of her tact and forbearance are many. "She would have put me in a glass case that no evil might come nigh me," said the composer in after years. In their palace Beethoven was free in action and in dress. He studied or gave lessons by day, and at night he was associated with the Schuppanzigh quartet—afterward the Rasoumoffsky quartet—the members of which met every Friday at Lichnowsky's house.

At this time he was chiefly known as a virtuoso, and his first appearance in public was March 29, 1795, in a concert at the Burgtheatre for the benefit of the widows of the Society of Musicians. An oratorio by Cartellieri was given, and Beethoven played his pianoforte concerto in C major, which was published six years after as Op. 15. At rehearsal there was a difference of half a tone between the pitch of the pianoforte and that of the orchestral instruments, and the composer played the concerto in C sharp major. In the same year he made a contract with Artaria for the publication of his first three pianoforte trios. Two hundred and forty-two copies were subscribed for, and the composer netted about $400, a respectable sum at that time, especially for the early works of a young man.

In 1796 Beethoven went to Nuremberg, where he met his Bonn friends, the Breuning brothers, and for some reason not clearly known, they were arrested at Linz by the police, but were quickly released. On his return to Vienna he busied himself in overseeing the publication of sonatas (Op. 2), minuets and variations. His brothers were in the city. Johann, "tall, black, handsome, a complete dandy," found a place in an apothecary shop. Caspar, "small, red-haired, ugly," gave music lessons. In February Beethoven was in Prague and in Berlin, the only occasion on which he visited "the Athens of the Spree." Frederick William II. was gracious to him, heard him play, and gave him a snuff-box filled with gold pieces; "not an ordinary box," as Beethoven proudly said when he showed it, "but such a one as they give to ambassadors." Beethoven also met Prince Louis Ferdinand and complimented him by saying, "you play like an artist, not like a prince." He jeered at Himmel's improvisation, and Himmel in turn persuaded him that a lantern had been invented for the benefit of the blind. He saw Fasch and Zelter. When he returned to Vienna the talk was of Napoleon conquering in Italy.

In 1797 Beethoven, through imprudent exposure when he was heated, contracted a dangerous illness, and Zmeskall relates that it "eventually settled in the organs of hearing." He worked at his trade. He entered into a contest with WÖlfl, a virtuoso of remarkable technique, and they vied with each other in friendly spirit; whereas in a similar and later trial of skill between Beethoven and Steibelt, the latter sulked at the power of his rival. In 1798 he met Prince Rasumowsky, Count Browne, Rudolphe Kreutzer (who introduced him to Bernadotte, the suggestor of the "Heroic" symphony and the French ambassador), and in the following year he saw Dragonetti, the great player of the double-bass, who without doubt influenced him in his treatment of that instrument, and Cramer the pianist. The few recorded events of the next years are chiefly connected with music. The septet and first symphony were produced in 1800, and April 2 of the same year Beethoven gave the first concert in Vienna for his own benefit. He had left the palace of Prince Lichnowsky and lodged at No. 241 "im tiefen Graben." In the fall he went into the country, the first instance of what was afterward his settled custom. We know of no publication of music by Beethoven in 1800. He finished the first symphony, the septet (which he disliked), the string quartets Op. 18, the C-minor concerto Op. 37, the sonata Op. 22, and other works of less importance, including the horn sonata for Punto. Czerny, ten years old, met him some time in this year, and he has left a curious description of him, although it was written years after the meeting. He mentions the "desert of a room—bare walls—paper and clothes scattered about—scarcely a chair except the rickety one before the pianoforte. Beethoven was dressed in a dark gray jacket and trousers of some long-haired material which reminded me of the description of Robinson Crusoe. The jet-black hair stood upright on his head. A beard, unshaven for several days, made still darker his naturally swarthy face. He had in both ears cotton wool which seemed to have been dipped in some yellow fluid. His hands were covered with hair, and the fingers were very broad, especially at the tips."

In 1801 he was feeling well and he worked hard. His ballet "Prometheus" was given March 28 with success. He changed his lodgings and dwelt in the Sailer-Staette, where he could look over the town-ramparts. When the days lengthened, he went to Hetzendorf, near the shaded gardens of SchÖnbrunn, modelled after Versailles. "I live only in my music," he wrote Wegeler, "and no sooner is one thing done than the next is begun; I often work at three and four things at once." "The Mount of Olives"; the violin sonatas in A minor and F; the string quintet in C; the pianoforte sonatas, Op. 26, 27, 28, were completed in this year, and other works were sketched. The so-called "Moonlight Sonata" brings before us Giuletta Guicciardi, to whom it was dedicated, and the romance connected with her.

BEETHOVEN LEADING THE PERFORMANCE OF ONE OF HIS QUARTETS.

Reproduced from a photograph of a painting in which the scene is idealized.

The noble women of Vienna were fond of Beethoven; to say they adored him would not be extravagant. They went to his lodgings or they received him at their palaces. Even his rudeness fascinated them; they forgave him if he roared angrily at a lesson, or tore the music in pieces; they were not offended if he used the snuffers as a tooth-pick. He, too, was constantly in love, but there is no reason to doubt that his attachments were honorable. "Oh God! let me at last find her who is destined to be mine, and who shall strengthen me in virtue," was his prayer. Yet Wegeler says, that he fancied himself a Lovelace and irresistible. He paraded his attachments in dedications. There was the beautiful Hungarian Countess, Babette de Keglevics; the Countess Therese of Brunswick; Baroness Ertmann, the Countess ErdÖdy; and there were many others. In lesser station was Christine Gherardi, and there was Madeleine Willman, the singer, who, it is said, refused Beethoven's hand because he was "ugly and half-mad." But his passion for the woman Giuletta Guicciardi was deep-rooted, and it deserves more than passing notice. Her family came originally from the Duchy of Modena, and in 1800 her father went to Vienna, an Imperial Counsellor. She was in her seventeenth year, with dark blue eyes, waving brown hair, classic features, and a stately carriage. She was then as good as betrothed to Count Gallenberg, an impressario and a composer of ballets, whom she married in 1803. After Beethoven's death letters of an incoherent and a fiery nature were found in a secret drawer, and it was supposed that they were addressed to the Guicciardi until the ruthless examination of them by Thayer. She herself made light of the dedication by telling Jahn in later years that Beethoven gave her the Rondo in G, but wishing to dedicate something to Princess Lichnowsky, he gave her the sonata instead. Beethoven, when he was very deaf, wrote in bad French to his friend Schindler (for his conversation was necessarily at the time in writing) that he was loved by her; that he raised money for her husband; and that when she returned to Vienna from Italy, she looked Beethoven up and wept; but he despised her. The reader who wishes to investigate the subject and read of her strange adventures with Prince Hermann PÜckler-Muskau, even though illusions be thereby dispelled, is referred to the chapter "Julia Guicciardi" in "Neue Musikalische Charakterbilder" by Otto Gumprecht (Leipsic, 1876).

And in this year, 1801, the deafness, which began with violent noise in his ears, grew on him. In a letter to Wegeler, in which he speaks of a pension of about $240, from Lichnowsky, he tells of his infirmities. He connected the deafness with abdominal troubles, with "frightful colic." He went from doctor to doctor. He tried oil of almonds and cold and warm baths. Pills and herbs and blisters were of little avail. He inquired into galvanic remedies. Zmeskall persuaded him to visit Father Weiss, monk and quack. Discouraged, he still had the bravery to write, "I will as far as possible defy my fate, though there must be moments when I shall be the most miserable of God's creatures... I will grapple with fate; it shall never drag me down." At the same time in telling his sorrow to Carl Amenda he swore him solemnly to secrecy.

Dr. Schmidt sent him in 1802 to Heiligenstadt, a lonely village, and there he wrote the famous letter known as "Beethoven's Will," addressed to his brothers, to be opened after his death (see page 331). It is possible that this letter full of gloom and distress was only the expression of momentary depression. The music of this same year is cheerful, if not absolutely joyous—the Symphony in D, for example—and on his return to Vienna he wrote letters of mad humor. He changed his lodgings to the Peters-Platz, in the heart of the city, where he was between the bells of two churches. He corrected publishers' proofs, and was "hoarse with stamping and swearing" on account of the errors, "swarming like fish in the sea." He quarreled with his brother Caspar, who interfered in his dealings with publishers and brought to light compositions of boyhood.

In April, 1803, a concert was given, the program of which included "The Mount of Olives," the Symphony in D, and the pianoforte concerto in C minor, with the composer as pianist. The so-called "Kreutzer Sonata" for violin and pianoforte, written for the half-breed Bridgetower, was heard this year; there was a quarrel, and the now famous work was dedicated to R. Kreutzer, who was in the train of Bernadotte. In the summer, Beethoven went to Baden near Vienna, and to OberdÖbling, but before he left the city he talked with Schikaneder about an opera for the theatre "An der Wien." He had also changed his lodgings again and moved to the said theatre with Caspar. The rest of the year, however, was chiefly given to the composition of the "Heroic" symphony, which was suggested to him in 1798 by Bernadotte. It is true that he went much in society, associating with painters and officials, and with the AbbÉ Vogler; he also began correspondence with Thomson, the music publisher of Edinburg, concerning sonatas on Scotch themes. At the beginning of 1804, he was obliged to seek new quarters, and he roomed with his old friend Stephen Breuning in the Rothe Haus. At first they had separate sets of rooms; they then thought it would be cheaper to live together. Beethoven neglected to notify the landlord, and he was liable for the two suites. Hence hot words and a rupture. The breach was afterwards healed, but Breuning, who apparently behaved admirably, wrote in a letter to Wegeler of Beethoven's "excitable temperament, his habit of distrusting his best friends, and his frequent indecision. Rarely indeed, does his old true nature now allow itself to be seen." At DÖbling he worked at the Waldstein Sonata and the Op. 54. The "Bonaparte" Symphony was finished, and, according to Lichnowsky, the title-page bore simply the inscription "Buonaparte," and the name "Luigi van Beethoven." Beethoven had unbounded admiration for Napoleon as long as he was First Consul, and he compared him often with illustrious Romans, but when the Corsican made himself Emperor of the French, the composer burst into violent reproaches and tore in pieces the title page of the Symphony. When the work was published in 1806, the title announced the fact that it was written "to celebrate the memory of a great man"; and when Napoleon was at St. Helena, Beethoven once cried out, "Did I not foresee the catastrophe when I wrote the funeral march in the Symphony?" When he went back to Vienna for the winter, he lodged in a house of Baron Pasqualati on the MÖlker-Bastion; these rooms were kept for him, even when he occasionally moved for a season.

In 1805 Baron von Braun took Schikaneder as manager of the "An der Wien," and they made Beethoven an offer for an opera. The story of Leonora suited the composer, although Bouilly's text had been already set by Gaveaux and Paer; he worked diligently at his rooms in the theatre, and later in the fields of Hetzendorf. In the summer he went to Vienna to see Cherubini. In the fall the operatic rehearsal began. The singers and the orchestra rebelled at difficulties. The composer was vexed and angry. For the first time he welcomed deafness. He did not wish to hear his music "bungled." "The whole business of the opera is the most distressing thing in the world." The first performance was November 20th, 1805. Anna Milder, to whom Haydn said, "You have a voice like a house," was the heroine. Louise MÜller was Marcelline; Demmer, Florestan; Meyer, Pizarro; Weinkopf, Don Fernando; CachÉ, Jaquino; Rothe, Rocco. The opera was then in three acts, and the overture seems to have been "Leonora No. II." The time was unfavorable. The French entered Vienna the 13th of November; Napoleon was at SchÖnbrunn; nearly all of the wealthy and noble patrons of Beethoven had fled the town. The opera was played three nights and then withdrawn—a failure. It was revised, shortened, and with the overture "Leonora No. III.," it was again performed March 29, 1806, and the reception was warmer. It was played April 10th. Beethoven and Braun quarreled, and Vienna did not hear "Fidelio" for seven or eight years. Parts of the pianoforte concerto in G and of the C-minor symphony, as well as the two last of the Rasoumoffsky string quartets Op. 59 were composed at this time.

BEETHOVEN.

After a posthumous Medallion by Gatteux.

Some months in 1806 were passed in visits. Beethoven stopped at the country-seat of Count Brunswick—and some say that he was in love with Therese, the sister, to whom he dedicated his favorite sonata Op. 78, and that the posthumous love letters were addressed to her. He went to Silesia to see Prince Lichnowsky. There were French officers there who wished to hear him play, and when he refused, the Prince threatened in jest to lock him up. There was an angry scene, and Beethoven, rushing back to Vienna, dashed a bust of the Prince to pieces. The 4th symphony was played at a concert in March, 1807, for Beethoven's benefit. The subscriptions were as liberal as the program, which was made up of two and a half hours of orchestral music. Clementi of London paid him $1,000 down for copyrights. And so he had money and he was cheerful. He worked at the "Coriolan" overture, and, it is believed, the Pastoral and C-minor symphonies. In September the mass in C was brought out under the protection of Prince Esterhazy, who, accustomed to Haydn's music, said to Beethoven, "What, pray, have you been doing now?" Hummel, the Chapelmaster, laughed, and there was no intercourse between the composers for some time. In spite of the failure of "Fidelio," Beethoven looked toward the theatre and offered to supply one grand opera and one operetta yearly at a salary of about $960 with benefit performances, an offer that was rejected. 1807 saw the publication of the "Appassionata" sonata and the thirty-two variations. The pianoforte concerto in G and the Choral Fantasia were performed in 1808.

BEETHOVEN.

From a pencil drawing by Letronne, made in 1814. It has been engraved by several artists. The above is reproduced from the frontispiece of the original full score of "Fidelio," published in Bonn.

The pension from the Elector had been stopped. Prince Lichnowsky made Beethoven a small allowance, and with this exception, the latter was dependent on his own exertions. Some time in 1808 Jerome Bonaparte, King of Westphalia, offered Beethoven the position of MaÎtre de Chapelle at Cassel, with an annual salary, beside travelling expenses, of about $1,500. This led the Archduke Rudolph, Prince Lobkowitz, and Prince Kinsky to give a joint undertaking in March 1809 to secure Beethoven 4,000 florins, payable half-yearly, a sum nominally worth about $2,000, and really about $1,000; this was lessened by the depreciation of the Austrian paper and the bankruptcy and the death of Prince Kinsky. It was in this year that Beethoven met young Moscheles, began relations with Breitkopf and HÄrtel, negotiated with Thomson about the harmonization of Scottish melodies, a contract which in the course of years netted him about $1,000. The French were again in Vienna. Wagram was fought. Beethoven, during the bombardment of his town, was in a cellar, and dreading the effect of the explosions on his hearing, called in the aid of cushions. Haydn died in May, and there is no hint of the fact in the letters or journals of his quondam pupil. It was the year of the beginning of the "Les Adieux" sonata, to commemorate the departure of the Archduke.

May, 1810, was the date of the first performance of the music to "Egmont," probably in a private house, and in this month Beethoven first saw Bettine Brentano, "Goethe's child, who seemed the incarnation or the original of Mignon." With her he fell in love, although she was betrothed to Count Arnim. The authenticity of the three letters which she published in after years as his has been a subject of warm dispute. It was in this same year that he contemplated marriage, and wrote for his baptismal certificate. But the name of the possible wife is unknown. Some have called her Therese von Brunswick; others Therese Malfatti.

There was a rumor in Vienna in 1811 that Beethoven thought of moving to Naples in response to advantageous offers. His income was lowered by the depreciation in the value of the Austrian paper money. He suffered from headaches, his feet were swollen, and he hoped that the climate of Italy would bring relief. His physician did not favor the plan. In 1812 the Brentanos lent Beethoven about $920, and he tried the baths at Carlsbad, Franzensbrunn, and TÖplitz. At the latter place he fell in love with Amalie Sebald, a soprano from Berlin, about thirty years of age, handsome and intellectual. The affection was deep and mutual; why the intimate relations did not lead to marriage, is an insoluble problem. And here Beethoven met Goethe, whom he reverenced; but the poet saw in him "an utterly untamed character." The acquaintance did not ripen into friendship, although Goethe recognized the "marvellous talent" of the composer; Mendelssohn declared, however, in a letter to Zelter, that the antipathy of the poet to Beethoven's music was poorly disguised. Nor on the other hand did the composer relish the self-effacement of Goethe when he was in the presence of royalty. In October he visited his brother Johann at Linz and found him entangled with a woman; he forced him to marry her by threats of arresting her and sending her to Vienna. 1812 was the year of the composition of the Seventh and Eight symphonies. Beethoven returned to Vienna in gloomy spirits; he was sick in body; he squabbled with his servants; Amalie Sebald was ever in his mind.

The defeat of the French at Vittoria in 1813 provoked the vulgar program-music, "Wellington's Victory," which was suggested also by Maelzel, the famous mechanician; it enjoyed great popularity, although Beethoven himself regarded it as "a stupid affair." Spohr was in Vienna when Beethoven conducted an orchestral concert, the program of which included the 7th symphony in MS. and this Battle Symphony. He and Mayseder, Salieri, Hummel, Moscheles, Romberg and Meyerbeer were in the orchestra. According to Spohr, Beethoven at this time had only one pair of boots, and when they were repaired he was obliged to stay at home. In 1816 the composer recorded in a note-book that he had seven pairs.

In 1814 Anton Schindler first met Beethoven. They grew intimate, and five years later he lived with him as a secretary. They quarreled, but they were reconciled shortly before the death of the composer. "Fidelio" was revived the same year. The new overture (in E) was included in the performance. Prince Lichnowsky died before the opera, which had undergone alteration, was thus produced. Then came a quarrel between Beethoven and Maelzel, which worried sorely the composer. September saw his triumph, when six thousand people waxed enthusiastic at a concert given by him in the Redouten-Saal. There were royal and celebrated visitors, drawn to Vienna by the Congress. Beethoven wrote a cantata for the event. "Der glorreiche Augenblick" ("The Glorious Moment"), a work unworthy of his reputation. He was made an honorary member of the Academies of London, Paris, Stockholm and Amsterdam. Vienna gave him the freedom of the city. He was courted in the drawing-rooms of the great. The Empress Elizabeth of Russia made him a present of about $4,600. He bought shares of the Bank of Austria.

BEETHOVEN.

From an engraving by Eichens after an oil painting by Schimon, painted in 1819.

Caspar Carl Beethoven died in November, 1815, and thus gave final and posthumous anxiety to his brother Ludwig; for he left to him the care of his son Carl. The mother of the eight-year-old boy was not a fit person to rear him, and Caspar had written his last wishes with an affectionate reference to Ludwig, who in fact had ministered generously to his wants and his caprices, and had thus spent at least $4,000. A codicil, however, restrained the uncle from taking his nephew away from the maternal house. The widow did not restrain her passions even in her grief, and Beethoven appealed to the law to give him control of the boy. There were annoyances, changes of jurisdiction, and the decree was not given in his favor until 1820. It was before the Landrechts court that Beethoven pointed to his head and his heart, saying, "My nobility is here and here"; for the cause was in this court on the assumption that the van in his name was an indication of nobility. Owing to these law-suits he composed but little; still it was the period of the great pianoforte sonatas Op. 106, Op. 109, Op. 110. He was in straitened circumstances. In 1816 his pension was diminished to about $550. He had quarreled again with Stephen Breuning. He found pleasure in the thought that he was a father. He was influenced mightily by the death of his brother and the painful incidents that followed, not only in his daily life but in his work. At first there was a time of comparative unproductiveness, and the cantata "Calm Sea and Happy Voyage" and the song-cyclus "To the Absent Loved-one," with the pianoforte sonata Op. 101, are the most important compositions between 1815 and 1818. Texts for oratorios and operas were offered him, but he did not put them to music. In 1818 he received a grand pianoforte from the Broadwoods, and there was vain talk of his going to England.

His friend and pupil, the Archduke Rudolph, was appointed Archbishop of OlmÜtz in 1818, and Beethoven began in the autumn a grand Mass for the Installation. The ceremony was in March, 1820; the Mass was not finished until 1822; it was published in 1827, and there were seven subscribers at about $115 a copy; among them were the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia, and the King of France. The summer and autumn of 1818 and '19 were spent at MÖdling in the composition of the Mass, relieved only by anxious thoughts about his nephew. Sketches for the 9th symphony date back to 1817, and the theme of the scherzo is found in 1815. This colossal work was in his mind together with a tenth, which should be choral in the adagio and the finale, even when he wrote the overture in C for the opening of the Josephstadt Theatre in Vienna and watched with fiery eyes Wilhelmine SchrÖder-Devrient, the Leonora of the revival in 1822. In this same year Rossini, sweeping all before him, visited Vienna, and tried to call on Beethoven. According to Azevedo the interview was painful between the young man flushed with success and the deaf and "almost blind" composer of the Heroic Symphony. But Schindler affirms that Beethoven succeeded in escaping the visits. The operatic triumphs of Rossini and the thought of the SchrÖder-Devrient again led him to meditate opera. There were discussions concerning music to Goethe's "Faust," not in set operatic form, but incidental airs, choruses, symphonic pieces and melodrama. In June, 1823, he was hard at work on the Ninth Symphony. He passed whole days in the open air at Hetzendorf, but his host, a baron, was too obsequiously civil, and he moved to Baden, where in the fall he received a visit from Weber. The Philharmonic Society of London in 1822 passed a resolution offering Beethoven £50 for a MS. symphony; the money was advanced, and the work was to be delivered in the March following. Ries was in London in the fall of 1823, and in September he heard from Beethoven that the manuscript was finished, nevertheless there was additional work on it after the return to Vienna; and according to Wilder, who quotes Schindler, the finale was not written until Beethoven was in his new lodgings in town, and the use of the voices in Schiller's Ode was then first definitely determined, although the intention was of earlier date.

The Italians still tickled the ears of the Viennese, who apparently cared not for German music, vocal or instrumental. Beethoven looked toward Berlin as the city where his solemn Mass and Ninth Symphony (in spite of his arrangement with the Philharmonic society of London) should be produced, and he negotiated with Count BrÜhl. This drove finally the noble friends of Beethoven in Vienna to send him an address praying him to allow the first production of these new works to be in the city in which he lived. Beethoven was moved deeply; he found the address "noble and great." There were the unfortunate misunderstandings that accompany so often such an occasion. Beethoven was suspicious, the manager of the KÄrnthnerthor theatre where the concert was given was greedy, and the music perplexed the singers and the players. Sontag and Ungher, who sang the female solo parts, begged him to change certain passages, but he would not listen to them. The 7th of May, 1824, the theatre was crowded, with the exception of the Imperial box; no one of the Imperial family was present, no one sent a ducat to the composer. The program was as follows: Overture in C (Op. 124); the Kyrie, Credo, Agnus and Dona Nobis of the mass in D arranged in the form of three hymns and sung in German, on account of the interference of the Censure, as the word "mass" could not appear on a theatre program; the Ninth Symphony. The public enthusiasm was extraordinary. As Beethoven could not hear the plaudits Caroline Ungher took him by the shoulders and turned him about that he might see the waving of hats and the beating together of hands. He bowed, and then the storm of applause was redoubled. After the expenses of the concert there were about 400 florins for Beethoven—about $200. The concert was repeated and the manager guaranteed 500 florins. The hall was half-empty. The composer was angry; he at first refused to accept the guarantee; and he accused his friends whom he had invited to eat with him of conspiring to cheat him.

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN.

From a lithographic reproduction of a painting made by Stieler, in April, 1820.


BEETHOVEN'S STUDIO

In the Schwarz-Spanier house. From an engraving by G. Leybold of a drawing made three days after his death.

Meanwhile his nephew, for whom he was willing to make any sacrifice and for whose benefit he labored incessantly and sold his manuscripts, neglected his studies and became an expert at the game of billiards. On the return of Beethoven from Baden to Vienna in 1824, the nephew entered the University as a student of philology; he failed in a subsequent examination; he thought of trade; he failed in an examination for admission into the Polytechnic school; and although in despair he pulled the triggers of two pistols which he had applied to his head, he failed to kill himself. He then fell into the hands of the police, was ordered out of Vienna, and joined the Austrian army. After he was obliged to quit Vienna, the uncle and the nephew in 1826 lived with Johann at Gneixendorf. The surroundings were dreary; the stingy sister-in-law of Beethoven refused him a fire; the brother found that he must charge him for board and lodging; and the nephew was insolent. He left the house in an open chaise and caught a cold which settled in his abdomen. The result of the journey was a sharp attack of inflammation of the lungs and dropsy. For the sake of his nephew Beethoven offered his manuscripts to publishers. Schott bought the Mass in D for 1,000 florins and the Ninth Symphony for 600 florins. A young man named Holtz helped the composer in his business calculations and gained a strange influence over him; he even induced him to abandon occasionally his customary sobriety. And yet these days of business and anxiety saw the composition of the last Quartets. Prince Nicholas de Galitzin of Saint Petersburg begged three string-quartets with dedications from him; he wrote to him in flattering terms; he named his bankers. Beethoven fixed the price at $115 a quartet. The Prince acknowledged the receipt of two (E-flat Op. 127 and A minor Op. 132) and regretted his delay in answering; "I now live in the depths of Russia and in a few days I shall go to Persia to fight." He promised again to send the money. Beethoven never received it, and the quartets were sold to publishers. The third, B-flat Op. 130, originally ended with a long fugue which was afterward published separately, and the new finale was written at the dreary house of his brother, where he also finished the quartet in F.

THE "SCHWARZ-SPANIER" HOUSE, IN VIENNA, IN WHICH BEETHOVEN DIED.

From a photograph.

When he arrived at Vienna in December, 1826, he went immediately to bed in his lodgings in the Schwarzspanierhaus. He had dismissed rudely two eminent physicians who had treated him for a former illness, and they would not now attend him. His nephew, who was charged with the errand of finding a doctor, played billiards and forgot the condition of his uncle, so that two days went by without medical assistance. Finally Dr. Andreas Wawruch was told by a billiard-marker of the suffering of the sick man. He went to him and dosed him with decoctions. In a few days the patient was worse, in spite of the great array of empty bottles of medicine. Dropsy declared itself. He was tapped by Dr. Seibert, and during one of the operations he said, "I would rather see the water flow from my belly than from my pen." Schindler and Breuning came to his bedside, and with them young Gerhard Breuning, the son of Stephen. This lad now dwelled in the house with Beethoven as his constant companion. Dr. Malfatti was persuaded to forget his quarrels with the composer, and he consented to act in consultation with Dr. Wawruch. Beethoven saw his old friend gladly; but he would turn his back to Wawruch with the remark, "Oh, the ass!" Malfatti administered iced punch; for a short time the patient seemed stronger, and he talked of the 10th symphony. But in February, 1827, he was tapped for the fourth time; his aristocratic friends were forgetful of him, and even the Archduke Rudolph did not interest himself by cheap inquiry. In this same month Beethoven wrote to Moscheles and Sir George Smart telling them of his strait, and begging them to arrange for a concert for his benefit. All this time he had the seven bank shares of one thousand florins each that were found with the two mysterious love letters in a secret drawer of his writing desk, the day after his death; these shares he held for his scape-grace nephew, whom he made his sole heir, although by a codicil the capital was placed beyond his nephew's control. The Philharmonic Society promptly sent through Moscheles £100 on account of the future concert, and promised more if it were necessary. Unable to compose, Beethoven tried to read Sir Walter Scott's "Kenilworth," but he threw it aside and said, "The man writes only for money." He saw "the divine fire" in some of Schubert's songs. He wrote many letters, he arranged certain dedications of his works, and he found pleasure in a lithograph of Haydn's birthplace, and in a set of Handel's compositions in forty volumes, which had been given him. The Rhine wine that he had asked of Schott came too late. Hummel called on him in March and introduced his pupil Ferdinand Hiller. On the 19th of this month Beethoven felt the end, and he said to Breuning and Schindler, "Plaudite, amici, comoedia finita est." On the 23d he made with his own hand the codicil above mentioned. Several people called, among them Schubert, who saw him but could not speak with him. The last Sacraments of the Roman Catholic church were administered to the dying man the 24th. Then Beethoven wrestled with death until a quarter to six on the evening of the 26th, when he gave up the ghost. His sufferings were atrocious; the final agony was terrible. Just as he was delivered from his earthly ills a tempest, a great storm of hail and snow, burst over the roofs of Vienna. There was a dazzling flash of lightning; and the roaring thunder roused Beethoven. He pulled himself up in his bed, shook his fist at the sky, and fell back dead. Anselm HÜttenbrenner and the wife of Johann Beethoven were by his side.

The post mortem examination was made by Doctors Wagner and Rokitansky. Wagner cut and preserved the temporal muscles and the organs of hearing. The body was dressed and exposed in the room of the death. The lower jaw was not sustained, and the face with its long hair and its beard of three months' growth was savage.

The funeral was the 29th at three o'clock in the afternoon. It was attended by an immense crowd. Dr. Breuning estimated the number of persons on the glacis and in the neighboring streets at 20,000. The coffin was placed on the shoulders of eight members of the Imperial Opera. Eybler, Hummel, Kreutzer, Weigl, Gyrowetz, Seyfried, GÄnsbacher and WÜrfel held the streamers of the canopy. There were thirty-two torch bearers, whose left arms were wrapped in crape ornamented by lilies and white roses. Among these torch bearers were Czerny, Schubert and the giant Lablache. At the head, after the crucifix, four trombone players marched, and played alternately with the singing of a choir of sixteen men the two Equali of the dead composer. The crowd that followed was so enormous that soldiers were summoned to force a way. The ceremonies were held at the Church of the Minorites, and the body was then put in a hearse which was drawn by four horses to the WÄhringer cemetery. The gate was reached at the falling of night, and the play-actor AnschÜtz delivered an address written by Grillparzer. Other poems were read and distributed. Flowers and laurel wreaths were heaped on the coffin when it was lowered to its resting place.

The 3d of April the furniture, clothes and the Graf and Broadwood pianofortes were sold at auction. The same day Mozart's Requiem was sung in the Hofpfarrkirche of the Augustines, and Lablache not only sang the solo bass but paid about $80 for the cost of the singers. In November the musical effects were sold at auction, and they brought about 1200 florins. The total amount of money then was about $5,000.

In 1863 the Gesellschaft der Musik-Freunde opened the tombs of Beethoven and Schubert and reburied their bodies in leaden coffins. The 21st of June, 1888, the body of Beethoven was removed from the WÄhringer cemetery and transferred to the central cemetery of Vienna at Simmering. A monument was raised in Bonn in 1845, chiefly through the generosity and enthusiasm of Liszt. It is by HÖhnel, and it represents Beethoven standing, draped in a mantle. A colossal statue by Zurnbusch stands in one of the public places in Vienna, in front of the Academic Gymnasium.

BEETHOVEN'S TOMB IN VIENNA CEMETERY.

From a photograph.

When the body of Beethoven was exhumed in 1863 an impression and a photograph of his skull were taken. The head was remarkable. The box of bone was unusually thick; the dimensions of the forehead were extraordinary; in height the forehead came next to that of Napoleon, and in breadth it surpassed it. His face was strong and sombre, and while it was not without ugliness, it was expressive. The head was built stoutly throughout. The complexion was red and highly accented; though Schindler tells us that it grew yellow in summer. The hair was thick and rebellious; it was originally black, and in later years turned white. He shaved cheeks, chin and upper lip, and he was as awkward as Lord Macaulay with a razor. The eyes were black, not large, and they shot forth a piercing flame when he was excited. The nose was thick; the jaw was broad; the mouth was firm, and with protruding lips; the teeth were white, well-shaped, and sound, and when he laughed he showed them freely; the square chin rested on a white cravat. The greater number of pictures of Beethoven are idealized. The most faithful likenesses are the miniature by Hornemann, taken in 1802, and sent by Beethoven to Breuning in token of reconciliation; the drawing by Letronne, a French artist who was in Vienna in 1814; and the portrait by Schimon in 1819. Two plaster masks were made; one by Klein in 1812; the other, a death-mask, by the sculptor Dannhauser, from which Fortuny made an etching.

Beethoven was below the middle height, not more than five feet five inches; he was broad-shouldered, sturdy, with legs like columns. He had hairy hands, short fingers, with square ends as though they had been chopped. His movements were without grace but they were marked by their quickness. He was awkward in holding playing cards; he dropped everything that he took in his hands. When he first went about in Vienna he dressed in the fashion, with silken stockings, a peruke, long boots and a sword. In later years he wore a blue or dark green coat with copper buttons, a white waistcoat and a white cravat; and he carried an eyeglass. His felt hat was on the back of his head so that it touched his coat collar, as in the sketch of him by Lyser. His hat was often shabby and it excited the attention of loungers as he amused himself by strolling aimlessly in the streets, and by peering into the shop windows. The skirts of the coat were heavy laden; there would be within them an ear-trumpet, a carpenter's pencil, a stitched-book for use in his written conversation, a thick blank-book in quarto form, in which he jotted down vagrant thoughts and musical ideas. A pocket handkerchief would hang down to the calves of his legs, and the pockets bulged until they showed the lining. He would walk in deep meditation; talk with himself; at times make extravagant gestures.

He was simple in certain ways, easily gulled; so absent-minded that he once forgot he was the owner of a horse. He could appreciate wit, although he preferred rough jokes and horse play. He enjoyed pranks at the expense of others. He threw eggs at his cook and poured the contents of dishes over the heads of waiters. He was often brutal and rude in his speech to unoffending friends and strangers. The reproach of his being absurdly suspicious may be laid perhaps to his deafness. The son of a drunkard, he was on the whole abstemious; at the tavern he would sit apart with a glass of beer and a long pipe, and there he would brood. Of restless nature, he shifted constantly his lodgings, often with a whimsical excuse. He was fond of washing himself. He ate greedily badly cooked food whenever it occurred to him that he was hungry; and his digestion suffered thereby. He was fond of a panada with fresh eggs, macaroni sprinkled thickly with cheese of Parma, and fish. His favorite drinks were cool and pure water, and coffee which he prepared in a glass machine with extreme care, with sixty beans in a cup. It is said that in later years his table manners were beyond endurance. When he tried housekeeping for the sake of his nephew he was in continual trouble with his servants. He had little or no sense of order.

LIFE MASK OF BEETHOVEN

Taken in 1812 by Franz Klein, Beethoven being then in his forty-second year. This mask and the bust made after it by the same artist (see page 341) are of the first importance in forming a correct judgment of the value of all portraits of Beethoven.

But the life of Beethoven, the man, was not merely a chronicle of small-beer, a record of shifting of lodgings, quarrels, rude sayings and personal discomforts. His character was a strange compound of greatness and triviality. The influence of heredity, the early unfortunate surroundings, the physical infirmity that was probably due to the sins of his fathers, the natural impatience of a man whose head was in the clouds with the petty cares of daily life:—all these unfitted him for social intercourse with the gallant world in which he was, however, a welcomed guest. He was afraid of elegance or he disdained it. Frankness, that was often another name for brutality, was dear to him, and he saw no wrong in calling men and women who talked when he played "hogs." He was proud, and his pride was offended easily. He was sure of his own work, he would therefore brook no contradiction; irritable, he was inclined to quarrel. He preferred nature to man, and was never so happy as when walking and composing in the open. In fields and woods he meditated his great compositions. Winter and summer he rose at the breaking of day and began to write, but in heat or cold, rain or sunshine, he would rush out suddenly for air. Yet dear as light and air were to him, the twilight was his favorite hour for improvising.

DEATH MASK OF BEETHOVEN

Taken by Dannhauser, March 28, 1827, two days after Beethoven's death.

He used to read the Augsburg newspaper, and he was fond of talking of politics. It was a time of political unrest. Beethoven revered the heroes of Plutarch; the leaders in the American revolution; Napoleon Bonaparte as long as he was First Consul. A bronze statue of Brutus was on his work-table. It is not necessary, then, to add that he was a republican by sentiment. He dreamed of a future when all men should be brothers, and the finale of the Ninth Symphony is the musical expression of the dream and the wish. We have seen his fondness for women. There is no proof however that he was ever under the spell of an unworthy passion. A wife was to him a sacred being; and in an age when unlimited gallantry was regarded as an indispensable characteristic of a polished gentleman, Beethoven was pure in speech and in life. He was even prudish in his desire to find an untainted libretto for his music, and he could not understand how Mozart was willing to accept the text of "Don Giovanni." He was born in the Roman Catholic faith, and just before his death he took the Sacrament; but in his life he was rather a speculative deist. His prayer book was "Thoughts on the works of God in Nature," by Sturm. It was difficult for him to separate God from Nature. Many passages in his letters show his sense of religious duty to man and God, and his trust and his humility. He copied out and kept constantly on his work-table these lines found by Champollion Figeac on an Egyptian temple:

I am that which is,
I am all that is, that has been, and that shall be; no mortal hand has lifted my veil.
He is by himself and it is to him that everything owes existence.

Although his education had been neglected sadly in his youth, he was not without literary culture. He could not write a legible hand;—indeed, he himself described his chirography as "this cursed writing that I cannot alter"; his letters are often awkwardly expressed and incorrect; but they also abound in blunt directness, in personal revelation, and in a rude and overpowering eloquence. In his reading he was first enthusiastic over Klopstock; he soon wearied of the constant longing of that poet for death and abandoned him for Goethe. He was familiar with Schiller and the German poets that were his own contemporaries. His literary idols were Homer, Plutarch, and Shakespeare. He read the latter in the translation by Eschenburg, which he preferred to that by Schlegel; this translation was in his library, and it was thumbed by incessant reading. Schindler says that Plato's "Republic" was "transfused into his flesh and blood." He was an insatiable reader of histories. At the house of Mrs. Von Breuning in Bonn he was guided in a measure by the brother of his hostess. He knew Milton, Swift and other English writers in the translations, and he was kindly disposed thereby toward England and Englishmen. It is not so easy to discover his opinions concerning music from the few works found in his library, nor would it be wise to argue from the chance collection. There was a volume of pieces taken from the compositions of Palestrina, Vittoria, Nanini and other Italians. He had but little of Sebastian Bach, who was then known chiefly as the author of "The Well-tempered Clavichord." He owned a portion of the score of "Don Giovanni" and a few of Mozart's pianoforte sonatas; he preferred, however, the sonatas of Clementi, which he praised extravagantly. He was not ashamed to call himself the pupil of Salieri. He held Gyrowetz and Weigl in sincere esteem. Prejudiced at first against Weber, who had written violent critical articles against him, he changed his opinion after a more careful examination of "Der FreischÜtz," in which he found "the claw of the devil" side by side with "singular things." "I see what he intends, but in reading certain pages, such as the infernal chase, I cannot help smiling. After all, the effect may be right; it is necessary to hear it; but alas, I can no longer hear!" He was undoubtedly jealous of Rossini; "Fortune gave him a pretty talent and the gift of inventing agreeable melodies"; but he thought him no better than a scene-painter and accused him of a want of learning. Of all composers he appears to have most admired Handel dead and Cherubini, his contemporary. In a letter that was written by him to that great Italian-French composer, who is too much neglected in these restless days, Beethoven assured him that he put his operas above all other works for the stage; that he took a more lively interest in one of his new compositions than in his own; that he honored and loved him; that if it were not for his deafness, he would go to Paris that he might see him; and he begged him to consider him as worthy of ranking in the number of true artists. Of Handel he said, and shortly before his death, "This is the incomparable master, the master of masters. Go to him, and learn how to produce, with few means, effects that are like a thunder-clap."

PEN AND INK SKETCH OF BEETHOVEN

As he appeared on the streets of Vienna; drawn by J.P. Lyser, probably about 1820-25.


An ancient Egyptian inscription found in a temple at SaÏs, dedicated to the Goddess Neith, which impressed Beethoven so much that he copied it, as above, and kept it framed under glass on his desk.

But no collection of Beethoviana, no affidavits to the truth of anecdotes and conversations, no photographic, no phonographic record of his daily life can give a just idea of the character of this extraordinary man. Its grandeur, titanic in its aspirations, is best seen or felt in the music that was to him the true organ of speech. To comprehend, to appreciate Beethoven, the full knowledge of his compositions is necessary; and to the temperament of the composer must be added the corresponding temperament of a fit hearer. The Beethoven that has voiced the longings, the joys and the sorrows of humanity was not merely the man who walked in the streets of Vienna, not even the being to whom each tree sang the trisagion. The petty failings and the personal virtues of the individual assume in his music gigantic, supernatural proportions. In his life passion, tenderness, pride, arrogance, despair, tumultuous joy, fancy that was at times grotesque, gayety that often was clowning were strangely mingled; just as in "King Lear" the broken-hearted old man and the faithful fool defy together the raging of the elements. To the easy-going, amour-hunting citizen of Vienna Beethoven no doubt appeared, as to Rochlitz, "a very able man, reared on a desert island and suddenly brought fresh into the world," But to the faithful student of his life and works he seems one of the great high-priests of humanity. To the Beethoven of later years, shut off from the world, lonely and full of sorrow, the conceiver of unearthly music such as was never heard before, the sonorous hymn of the Opium Eater over the mystery known among men as Shakespeare might well be chanted:

"O mighty poet! Thy works are not as those of other men, simply and merely great works of art, but are also like the phenomena of nature, like the sun and the sea, the stars and the flowers, like frost and snow, rain and dew, hailstorm and thunder, which are to be studied with entire submission of our own faculties, and in the perfect faith that in them there can be no too much or too little, nothing useless or inert, but that, the farther we press in our discoveries, the more we shall see proofs of design and self-supporting arrangement where the careless eye had seen nothing but accident!"

Philip Hale

BEETHOVEN'S WILL.

"TO MY BROTHERS CARL AND ——. To be read and acted upon after my death."

"TO MY BROTHERS CARL AND —— BEETHOVEN:

"O ye who think or say that I am rancorous, obstinate or misanthropical, what an injustice you do me! You little know the hidden cause of my appearing so. From childhood my heart and mind have been devoted to benevolent feelings, and to thoughts of great deeds to be achieved in the future. But only remember that for six years I have been the victim of a terrible calamity aggravated by incompetent doctors; led on from year to year by hopes of cure, and at last brought face to face with the prospect of a lingering malady, the cure of which may last for years, or may be altogether impossible. Born with an ardent, lively temperament, fond of social pleasures, I was early compelled to withdraw myself, and lead a life of isolation from all men. At times when I made an effort to overcome the difficulty, oh how cruelly was I frustrated by the doubly painful experience of my defective hearing! And yet it was impossible for me to say to people, 'Speak louder; shout, for I am deaf.' Ah, how was it possible I could acknowledge weakness in the very sense which ought to be more acute in my case than in that of others—a sense which at one time I possessed in a perfection to which few others in my profession have attained, or are likely to attain. Oh, this I can never do! Forgive me, then, if you see me turn away when I would gladly mix with you. Doubly painful is my misfortune, seeing that it is the cause of my being misunderstood. For me there can be no recreation in human intercourse, no conversation, no exchange of thoughts with my fellow-men. In solitary exile I am compelled to live. Whenever I approach strangers I am overcome by a feverish dread of betraying my condition. Thus has it been with me throughout the past six months I have just passed in the country. The injunction of my intelligent physician, that I should spare my sense of hearing as much as possible, well accorded with my actual state of mind; although my longing for society has often tempted me into it. But how humbled have I felt when some one near me has heard the distant sounds of a flute, and I have heard nothing; when some one has heard a shepherd singing, and again I have heard nothing! Such occurrences brought me to the border of despair, and I came very near to putting an end to my own life. Art alone restrained me! Ah! it seemed impossible for me to quit this world forever before I had done all I felt I was destined to accomplish. And so I clave to this distressful life; a life so truly miserable that any sudden change is capable of throwing me out of the happiest condition of mind into the worst. Patience! I must now choose her for my guide! This I have done. I hope to remain firm in my resolve, until it shall please the relentless Fates to cut the thread of life. Perhaps I shall get better; perhaps not. I am prepared. To have to turn philosopher in my twenty-eighth year! It is no easy task—harder for the artist than for any one else. O God, Thou lookest down upon my inward soul; Thou knowest, Thou seest that love for my fellow-men, and all kindly feelings have their abode there!

"O ye who may one day read this, remember that you did me an injustice; and let the unhappy take heart when he finds one like himself who, in spite of all natural impediments, has done all that was in his power to secure for himself a place in the ranks of worthy artists and men. My brothers, Carl and ——, as soon as I am dead request Dr. Schmidt in my name, if he be still alive, to describe my disease, and to add to these pages the history of my ailments, in order that the world, so far at least as is possible, may be reconciled to me after my death.

"Hereby I declare you both to be heirs of my little fortune (if it may so be called). Divide it honestly; bear with and help one another. The injuries you have done me I have, as you know, long since forgiven. You, brother Carl, I thank specially for the attachment you have shown towards me in these latter days. My wish is that your life may be more free from care than mine has been. Recommend Virtue to your children. She alone, not money, can give happiness. I speak from experience. It was she alone who raised me in the time of trouble; and I thank her, as well as my art, that I did not seek to end my life by suicide. Farewell, and love one another. I thank all friends, especially Prince Lichnowsky and Professor Schmidt. The instruments from Prince L—— I should like to be kept by one of you; but let there be no quarreling between you in regard to this. As soon as you can turn them to more useful purpose, sell them. How happy shall I be if even when in my grave I can be useful to you!

"And thus it has happened. Joyfully I hasten to meet death. Should he come before I have had the opportunity of developing the whole of my artistic capacity, he will have come too soon in spite of my hard fate, and I shall wish he had come a little later. But even in that case I shall be content. Will he not release me from a state of endless misery? Come when thou will'st! I go to meet thee with a brave heart. Farewell, and do not quite forget me even in death! I have deserved this, since during my lifetime I have often thought of you, and tried to make you happy. So be it.
LUDVIG VAN BEETHOVEN.
"Heiligenstadt, 6th October, 1802."

"Heiligenstadt, 10th October, 1802.—So I take leave of thee sorrowfully enough. Even the cherished hope, which I brought here with me of being cured, at least to a certain extent, has now utterly forsaken me. It has faded like the fallen leaves of autumn. Almost as I came here so do I depart. Even the lofty hope that upheld me during the beautiful summer days has vanished. O Providence! let one more day of pure joy be vouchsafed to me. The echo of true happiness has so long been a stranger to my heart!—When, when, O God! shall I again be able to feel it in the temple of nature and of man? Never?—no!—O that were too hard!"

FIGURE OF BEETHOVEN ON VIENNA MONUMENT.

Executed by Zumbusch. From a photograph. (See page 339.)


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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