Beethoven must again, for the present, be made his own biographer. The selections from his correspondence taken for this purpose will all gain in interest and perspicuity by first giving the notes to Zmeskall and the Archduke so as to afford a sort of background for the more important ones, and by introducing here the explanations which numerous allusions demand in a short series of observations. Schindler writes in 1840:

An error of some kind must be here involved. This seems so obvious and palpable, as to render it hardly credible that, in all the long years since 1840, it has not caught the attention of some one writer on Beethoven and induced him to cast his eye for a moment upon the Patent itself. The depreciation of a national paper currency to null and its subsequent repudiation by the Government that emitted it is, in effect, a domestic forced loan equal in amount to the sum issued; and the more gradual its depreciation, so much the more likely is the public burden to be general and in some degree equalized. Such a forced loan was the “Continental Currency” issued by the American Congress to sustain the war against England in 1775-83; and such were the French “Assignats” a few years later; and such, to the amount of 80 per centum of all the paper in circulation, was the substitution of notes of redemption for the bank-notes at the rate of one for five, by the Austrian Finanz-Patent, promulgated February 20th, and put in force March 15th, 1811. But if Schindler be correct, the Imperial Royal Government went farther and committed the folly and injustice—with little or no advantage to itself—of issuing and enforcing a decree which, in its effect, simply confiscated 80 per centum of all domestic indebtedness—where the payment in specie or its equivalent was not stipulated—to the gain of the debtor and the loss of the creditor! According to more modern ideas of national economy, those ordinances of the Finanz-Patent of February 20, which relate to “continuing, periodically recurring payments of interest, incomes, farm-rents, pensions, maintenance moneys, annuities, etc.,” were certainly unwise and uncalled-for; but they involved no such blunder as that. The Government assumed that every contract of pecuniary obligation between Austrian subjects, wherein special payment or its equivalent was not stipulated, was payable in bank-notes; and that the real indebtedness under any such contract was in justice and equity to be determined and measured by the value in silver of the bank-notes at the date of the instrument. This second proposition is fallacious and deceptive, because such contracts rested upon the necessary presumptions that the faith and honor of the supreme authority were pledged to the future redemption of its paper at par and that the pledge would be redeemed. But this was not seen or was not regarded. Consequently, there was annexed to the Finanz-Patent a table showing decimally the average equivalent of the silver florin in the bank-notes, month by month, from January, 1799 to March, 1811. This table was made a “Scala Über den Cours der Bancozettel nach welchem die Zahlungen zufolge des Paragraphs 13 und 14 des Patents vom 20 Hornung, 1811, zu leisten sind.” (“Scale of the rate of exchange according to which payments are to be made in accordance with paragraphs 13 and 14 of the Patent of February 20, 1811.”) We copy two of the months as examples:

Beethoven’s annuity contract bore date March 1, 1809, when one florin in silver was equal to two and forty-eight hundredths in bank-notes. Hence his 4000 did not shrink to 800 but to 1612-9/10[89] in paper money; but this paper money then was intended to be, and for some time was, equal to silver. More than this he could not legally demand; but the original reasons for the contract, the intentions of the donors and the mutual understanding of the parties gave him a perfect claim in equity for the full amount of 4000 florins in notes of redemption. Nor did the princes hesitate to admit its justice. They were men of honor and this was a debt of honor. Archduke Rudolph immediately gave the necessary order and instructions in writing; and Beethoven’s anxiety because the others had not yet given him the same security was justified by the event, although he might have expressed it rather more delicately.[90]

The opening of the new theatre in Pesth not having taken place in October as proposed, was deferred to Sunday, February 9th, that it might bear the character of a festivity in honor of the Emperor’s birthday (October 12th). The performances were repeated on the 10th and 11th to crowded audiences which received Beethoven’s music to “King Stephen” and “The Ruins of Athens” (reported to be “very original, excellent and worthy of its master”) with clamorous applause. Beethoven had been so favorably impressed with Kotzebue’s texts that in January, 1812, he applied to him for an opera text:

As the date of this letter plainly shows, it was sent to Breitkopf and HÄrtel together with one to Goethe, with the request that the two be forwarded to their destinations.

Among the sufferers by the Finanz-Patent were the Ursuline nuns at Graz, whose institution, since 1802, had at no time less than 50 wards and always more than 350 pupils. At this juncture they were excessively poor and in debt. In the hope of gaining them some substantial aid Beethoven’s new friend, Varena, now wrote to him offering to pay him properly for the use of some of his compositions in a concert for their benefit to be given on Easter Sunday, March 29. Beethoven at once presented two of his new compositions to the Art Society of Graz for gratuitous use at charity concerts. At the concert on Easter Sunday there were eight numbers, Beethoven being represented by the overture to “King Stephen,” the march with chorus from “The Ruins of Athens,” the overture to “Egmont,” and the Septet. The nuns gained on the occasion the handsome sum of 1836 fl. 24k. Vienna Standard.

Walter Scott somewhere remarks: “It is seldom that the same circle of personages, who have surrounded an individual at his first outset in life, continue to have an interest in his career till his fate comes to a crisis. On the contrary, and more especially if the events of his life be of a varied character and worth communicating to others, or to the world, the hero’s later connections are usually totally separated from those with whom he began the voyage, but whom the individual has outsailed, or who have drifted astray, or foundered on the passage.”

A few years more and this will begin to be very true of Beethoven. The old familiar names will rapidly disappear and new ones take their places; some half a dozen perhaps will remain to the end. But this is not yet. The old friends, Lichnowsky, Rasoumowsky, ErdÖdy and that class, Streicher, Zizius, Breuning and their class, are his friends still. We see less of them, because Beethoven is no longer the great pianist performing in the saloons of the nobles, or playing his new compositions in the lodgings of his untitled admirers. His astonishing playing in the concert of December, 1808—which completed full thirty years since his appearance in Cologne as a prodigy—proved to be, as it happened, the splendid close of his career as a virtuoso. He had surely earned the right to retire and leave that field to his pupils, of whom Baroness Ertmann and Carl Czerny were preËminent as performers of his music. In the more private concerts he had already long given place to the Baroness; and now Czerny began to take it before the public, even to the extent of introducing his last new composition for pianoforte and orchestra. Theodor KÖrner, lately arrived in Vienna, writes home under date February 15:

Castelli’s “Thalia” gives the reason, why this noble work on this, its first public performance in Vienna, was so coldly received:

That was precisely the truth. The work was out of place. The warblings of FrÄulein Sessi and Herr Siboni, and Mayseder’s variations on the march in “Aline,” were suited to the occasion and the audience. Instead of Beethoven’s majestic work, Chapelmaster Himmel, who had recently been in Vienna, should have been engaged to remain and exhibit his brilliant finger gymnastics.

The new symphony, to which there are allusions in this correspondence, was the Seventh, which he took up and completed this spring (May 13), with the hope of producing it in a concert about the time of Pentecost—but the project fell through.[92]

Explanatory of the Zmeskall correspondence, it is to be noted, that with the approach of the inclement season, Beethoven ceased to cross the wind-swept Glacis to dine with Breuning; that the “greatest thanks” of one of the notes is merely for keeping his pens in order; and that Zmeskall had been making experiments to determine whether the oscillations of a simple weight and string (without lever) might not answer as a practicable and convenient metrometer.

The works of Beethoven publicly performed in Vienna during this half year, so far as has been learned, were the Pianoforte Concerto as above stated; on March 22nd, march with chorus from “The Ruins of Athens,” in Clement’s concert; on April 16th, the “Coriolan” Overture in Streicher’s Pianoforte Warerooms, conducted by Schuppanzigh—the first piece in the concert, which opened the way for the great performance of Handel’s “Timotheus” in November, which in turn led to the foundation of the Society of the Friends of Music; on April 24th, the “Egmont” Overture in the Concert for the Theatrical Poor Fund; and on May 5th, the overture to “Prometheus,” and the C minor Symphony in Schuppanzigh’s first Augarten Morning Concert of the season. His (Schuppanzigh’s) quartet productions were on Thursdays, at noon; “As it is nearly 12 o’clock and I am going to Schuppanzigh’s,” says Beethoven in a note to Zmeskall, on Thursday, February 20—unfortunately only as an auditor. No record of the programmes during the season has been discovered.

And now turn we to the selection from the Zmeskall correspondence:

The correspondence with the Archduke, of course including the notes to his “spiritual adviser,” Baumeister, and his “chamberlain,” Schweiger, in the very profuseness of its expressions of devotion, awakens some mistrust of its writer’s sincerity. There is too much of profession. True zeal in and a hearty performance of one’s duty need few verbal attestations.

In a note to the Archduke he excuses his absence the two previous days because he was “unexpectedly” ill, “at just the time when he was about to go” to him. In another he has “oftener than usual” waited upon him “in the evening hour, but no one was to be found.” In another “certain unexpected circumstances prevent” his attendance “to-day, but,” he says, “I shall make use of the gracious privilege of waiting upon you to-morrow evening.” In still another:

The last of these selections affords another illustration of the usefulness of the Archduke’s library to the composer. Its date has also some importance in the discussion of the famous love-letter; and it is the final notice of Beethoven before his departure from Vienna for the summer.

A very interesting series of letters to Varena, and one very creditable to Beethoven, began at the end of January this year and ended, so far as is known, in 1815. Could the space be spared they would all be printed here; but they may be read in the published collections of Beethoven’s letters.

The arrangements of the Irish and Scottish songs for Thomson were continued in this year. A French letter to Thomson under date February 29, 1812, chiefly devoted to business matters, yet contains some expressions which are characteristic of Beethoven’s views and predilections.

He repeats his request that the texts be sent with the Scottish songs, asks if violin and violoncello are to be treated obbligato or if the pianoforte might compose an ensemble in itself, and closes, after having again demanded 9 ducats in gold, with: “we need the gold here, for our country is at present only a paper fountain, and I in particular, for I shall probably leave this country and go to England and then to Edinburgh in Scotland, and rejoice in the prospect of there making your personal acquaintance.”

The letter to Brunswick which follows, has been printed with the date 1809; but in that year Beethoven was not in the Pasqualati house; he was then on the most cordial terms with Oliva (barring the disagreement at Teplitz in 1811); and his satisfaction with the “honorable decree”—the annuity contract—which retained him in Vienna, was at the flood. The date, 1812, renders every point in the letter, except who is meant by “R,” perfectly intelligible.[94] “T” is the manuscript Trio, Op. 97; “S,” the printed sonata, “Les Adieux, etc.,” Op. 81a; “the quartet” is Op. 95, also in manuscript; “nothing decisive” refers to the non-receipt of the desired written instructions from Kinsky and Lobkowitz to their cashiers respecting the notes of redemption, and the “unhappy war” was that movement by Napoleon which proved to be the fatal invasion of Russia.

The letter reads:

The cause of the estrangement between Beethoven and Oliva is hinted at in two letters from Oliva to Varnhagen. On March 25, Oliva writes: “I should like to write you a great deal about the things that sadden me, about Stoll, and Beethoven still more, but I must postpone it—I was ill lately and it moves me greatly to write about things which are so painful”; and in a letter of June 3, after asking Varnhagen in behalf of Beethoven to deliver a letter to Prince Kinsky and seek to persuade the Prince to come to a decision in the matter of paying the annuity contract in notes of redemption, he adds: “Concerning my unfortunate affairs I can only say that Of.” [Offenheimer, the Vienna banker, Oliva’s employer, is meant] “has treated me very shabbily and I am compelled to seek another engagement, perhaps I shall accept Beethoven’s renewed offer and go with him to England. Stoll cheated me in a very miserable manner and even sought to bring about a rupture with Beethoven, in which he was almost successful; I am completely separated from him.” Beethoven’s wrath, to which he gave expression in his letter to Brunswick, seems to have been assuaged and their friendship continued as before until the departure of Oliva for Russia in 1820.

There is a little Trio in one movement, which bears the superscription in Beethoven’s hand: “Vienna, June 2, 1812. For my little friend Max. Brentano to encourage her in pianoforte playing.” On one of his visits to the Brentanos, soon after, “the little maiden, whom he occasionally teased, in a fit of childish petulance unexpectedly poured a bottle of ice-cold water over his head when he was overheated.”[96]

This was the year in which Beethoven allowed a mask to be taken, at the desire of Streicher, who wished to add his bust to those which already adorned his pianoforte warerooms. The bust was executed by Professor Klein, a pupil of the famous sculptor Fischer, and still adorns the hall for which it was designed. The effigy is the one which has been so often copied and is generally attributed to Dannhauser. That artist was born in 1805, and must have been indeed remarkably precocious, if Beethoven consented to have him, at the age of seven years, plaster his face with gypsum! In May, the son of the Corsican advocate Bonaparte held court at Dresden and received his father-in-law, Emperor Franz, Frederick William of Prussia, the princes of the Rheinbund, etc., etc. Before the end of June, he had crossed the Niemen with his half million of men on his fatal march to Moscow. As if from a presentiment and in the hope of the disastrous failure of the foolhardy invasion of Russia, Teplitz (that neutral ground, but central point of plot and agitation against the parvenu Emperor) became the scene of a virtual congress of imperial personages, or their representatives, accompanied by families, ministers and retinues. Ostensibly they met for health, recreation, social diversion; but views and opinions were exchanged and arrangements made for such concerted action as the result in Russia might render politic. Herr Aug. Rob. Hiekel, Magisterial Adjunct in Teplitz, has kindly communicated copious excerpts from the lists of arrivals that summer, from which these are selected, through the friendly mediation of Dr. Schebek of Prague, which is gratefully acknowledged:

Passing from the royal and diplomatic circles, we note:

No hint anywhere appears that Beethoven renewed his intercourse with Tiedge and Countess von der Recke—they had, no doubt, departed before his arrival—nor that a meeting took place between him and any one of those persons who arrived on and between the 1st of August and the 19th of the same month. With Varnhagen,[98] too, the meetings during the sojourn at Teplitz this year seem to have been few and fleeting. On June 9, Varnhagen had reported to Oliva in Vienna concerning the success of his visit to Prince Kinsky. On July 5 Beethoven arrived in Prague in company with Oliva’s friend Willisen. Varnhagen writes to Rahel on July 2: “I am writing after the arrival of Beethoven and Willisen.” As appears from a letter from Beethoven to Princess Kinsky dated December 20, 1812, Beethoven called upon the Prince and received 60 ducats on account. Unfortunately he delayed the definitive settlement of the annuity matter; had he attended to it at once he would have been spared the negotiations which followed the sudden death of the Prince.

On July 14th, Beethoven wrote a letter to Varnhagen from Teplitz in which he said: “There is not much to be said about Teplitz, few people and among the few nothing extraordinary, wherefore I live alone! alone! alone!” Three days later Beethoven wrote to Breitkopf and HÄrtel, promising some corrections in the Mass in C with the words: “We say to you only that we have been here since the 5th of July, how are we?—on that point much cannot yet be said, on the whole there are not such interesting people here as were last year and are few—the multitude seems fewer than few.”

On July 19, Goethe enters Beethoven’s name for the first time among his “visits”—no doubt those made by him. On the same day he writes to his wife, who had gone on to Karlsbad for a cure:

Already on the next day Beethoven made a pleasure trip with Goethe to Bilin, and on the 21st and 23rd Goethe spent the evening with Beethoven. Hence the note on the 21st, “He played delightfully.” As Arnim and Bettina are mentioned in the list of arrivals, it is easily possible that this was the evening concerning which Bettina reported to PÜckler-Muskau. On the 27th of July, Beethoven went to Karlsbad on the advice of his physician, Dr. Staudenheimer, and he did not return to Teplitz till after September 8th, Goethe having already journeyed to Karlsbad on August 11th. That there was no estrangement between them is proved by the letter of Goethe to Christiane advising him to give Beethoven a letter addressed to him; he therefore expected Beethoven to return, which he did not do, because Staudenheimer sent him further on to Franzensbrunn. Goethe’s letter says: “Herr van Beethoven went from here to Karlsbad a few days ago; if you can find him, he would bring me a letter in the shortest time.” On August 2nd, Beethoven is still looked upon as the possible courier: “If I receive the consignment through Beethoven I will write again, then nothing more will be necessary” (because Goethe himself went to Karlsbad). In Karlsbad Goethe and Beethoven may have met each other only between September 8 and 11. On September 12, Goethe departed; but on the 8th he had written in his journal: “Beethoven’s arrival.”

In view of these things, Beethoven’s report to Archduke Rudolph from Franzensbrunn on August 12th, which will appear presently, will be read with greater interest, and the only known utterance of Goethe touching Beethoven in the letter to Zelter be viewed with different eyes:

Many things which have been reported and had so much of a legendary sound as to cause them to be received with doubt, may, under the circumstances, serve to complete the story of the relations between Goethe and Beethoven; such, for instance, as the familiar anecdote according to which, when Goethe expressed his vexation at the incessant greetings from passers-by, Beethoven is said to have replied: “Do not let that trouble your Excellency, perhaps the greetings are intended for me.” This is variously related to have occurred in a carriage at Karlsbad and in the Prater, and during a walk together on the old walls at Vienna; while the late Joseph TÜrk, the Vienna jeweler, who was in Teplitz in the summer of 1812, makes that place the scene of the story. It may, therefore, possibly have some foundation in truth.

Rochlitz, in 1822, reporting a conversation with Beethoven, has him say: “In Karlsbad I got acquainted with him (Goethe)”; but he makes him also say: “at that time, while I was veritably burning with enthusiasm (so recht im Feuer sass), I also conceived my music for his Egmont.” But this music was composed two years before. Beethoven’s allusion here to the “Egmont” music certainly, and to meeting with Goethe in Karlsbad probably, if correctly reported, prove nothing but the truth of Schindler’s observation: “Beethoven’s memory of the past always proved to be very weak.” Dr. Eduard Knoll, of Karlsbad, in a detailed investigation of the dates of the visit of Goethe and Beethoven to Teplitz and Karlsbad—which also fixes August 6th as the date of the Beethoven-Polledro concert—comes to the same conclusion as the present writer, namely: “In all probability Beethoven came in contact with Goethe only in Teplitz, for during Beethoven’s presence in Karlsbad, it can be proved Goethe was not there. But even in Teplitz the period of their mutual presence was a rather limited one.”

On July 26th, a large portion of the town of Baden, near Vienna, including the palace of Archduke Anton, the cloister of the Augustines, the theatre and casino, the parochial church and the palace of Count Esterhazy, was destroyed by a conflagration which broke out between noon and 1 o’clock. In all, 117 houses were burned. “From Karlsbad under date of August 7, it is reported,” writes the “Wiener Zeitung” of August 29th, that “scarcely had the misfortune which recently befel the inhabitants of Baden become known here before the well-known musicians Herr van Beethoven and Herr Polledro[99] formed the benevolent purpose to give a concert for the benefit of the sufferers. As many of the guests of high station were already prepared to depart and it became necessary to seize the favorable moment, and in the conviction that he who helps quickly helps twofold, this purpose was carried out within twelve hours.... Universal and rousing applause and receipts amounting to 954 florins, Vienna Standard, rewarded the philanthropic efforts” of the concert-givers. Beethoven himself gives a very different aspect to this concert in a letter to Archduke Rudolph:

Three days before, Beethoven had written in a letter to Breitkopf and HÄrtel:

Beethoven arrived in Franzensbrunn on August 8, and on September 7 returned to Karlsbad, where he remained only a few days; after the 16th of September, he was again in Teplitz.[101] His arrival in Franzensbrunn was simultaneous with that of the family Brentano from Vienna.

Madame von Arnim in her letter to PÜckler-Muskau gives some account of the intercourse between Goethe and Beethoven:

In these passages we have the substance of a large portion of the famous third of the Beethoven-Bettina letters. Are they an abstract of that letter or is the letter an expansion of them? In other words, the question is forced upon us: Is that letter authentic? The last paragraph of the PÜckler letter affords a decisive answer: “Afterward Beethoven came running to us and told us everything, and was as happy as a child at having teased Goethe so greatly, etc., etc.” Who were they to whom Beethoven came running? They are named in Herr Hiekel’s list of visitors: Ludwig (Achim) von Arnim, his young wife Bettina Brentano and Frau von Savigny, her sister! In the pseudo-letter we read: “Yesterday we met the entire imperial family.” Therefore, if the letter to PÜckler be true—and it bears all the marks of being so—and if the other be authentic, Beethoven is made to relate the story one day and write a long letter containing it to the same person the next! It follows: when such a letter in Beethoven’s well-known handwriting shall be seen and accepted as authentic by competent judges, its genuineness may be conceded but, henceforth, until then, never.[103]

Beethoven returned to Teplitz with no amelioration, but rather an increase of his maladies, and was compelled to remain until near or perhaps quite the end of September. To his great satisfaction, he found there the young lady who had so powerfully attracted him the previous summer. The character of their renewed acquaintance is sufficiently obvious from the series of notes following, which are given in the order which appears to correspond best with their contents.

I am already better. If you think it proper to come to me alone you can give me a great pleasure, but if you think it improper you know how I honor the liberty of all people, and no matter how you act in this and all other cases, according to your principles or caprice, you will always find me kind and

Your friend
Beethoven.