Life of Beethoven Part 21

If candour be the type of n.o.bleness of mind, that virtue was fully possessed by Beethoven. He gave expression to his feelings without any reserve; and the propriety of repressing offensive remarks was a thing that never entered his thoughts. On the other hand, it was no easy matter to get him to p.r.o.nounce an opinion or judgment on music and musicians; and it was only after an attentive observation of his expressions, sometimes for the s.p.a.ce of several days, that anything decided or consistent could be gained from him. With the witty, satirical, and sarcastic remarks which were always ready at his tongue's end, he endeavoured to evade questions to which he did not wish to give direct answers; and he usually succeeded in discouraging inquirers, who got something like a reply, but nothing to the purpose.[143] It was seldom, either at meal-time or during his walks, that he was, to use his own expression, "quite unb.u.t.toned." When he was, he wielded the rod of satire without mercy; and Emperor, King, and Artist, were all alike subject to his critical lash. Beethoven had to pay an annual impost, called a cla.s.s-tax, amounting to twenty-one florins. These twenty-one florins furnished him yearly with a subject for twenty-one thousand sarcasms, of which, in return, his diversified talent never failed to make a repart.i.tion and re-a.s.sessment, which produced, as usual, a result in the highest degree humorous.

Beethoven has too frequently been accused of a discourteous bluntness of manner towards his brother artists, which had a discouraging effect on the efforts of young beginners. Even M. Ries, in his _Notizen_, plainly shows that he thought this charge against Beethoven not without foundation. In allusion to this subject, a friend of Beethoven's has thus expressed himself:--"These people cannot separate the man oppressed by fate from the caprice and irritability which are caused by that fate; they cannot see the n.o.ble side of his disposition. Nevertheless, it is a melancholy fact that, to his unhappy state of existence, we are in a great measure indebted for his wonderful musical fancy and susceptibility."

M. Moscheles will remember the amiable reception he experienced when he presented to Beethoven the Sonata in E, which he had dedicated to him.

He will likewise recollect the patient attention with which Beethoven corrected his pianoforte arrangement of Fidelio, published by D.

Artaria; and how kindly he encouraged his labours, until they were brought to a satisfactory conclusion. He even persuaded Moscheles to introduce an arrangement of one piece from the opera, which Hummel had prepared for Artaria, and which Beethoven had condemned, or, to speak the truth, contemptuously torn up, not knowing at the time that it was the work of Hummel. At the end of every piece he arranged from the opera, Moscheles, probably under the apprehension of being treated with as little ceremony as Hummel, wrote the words, "_Fine, with G.o.d's help_," and Beethoven wrote underneath, "O man, help thyself!"

Beethoven's kindness will, no doubt, be borne in mind by that esteemed composer, M. Anton Halm, when he arranged the grand Fugue for the pianoforte. This Fugue had previously formed the fourth movement of the Quartett in B (No. 13), which Beethoven, at the request of the publisher (Math. Artaria), converted into a distinct work (Op. 133). He then composed a new fourth movement for the Quartett; and it is worthy of remark, that this movement was positively Beethoven's last work. He completed it in November, 1826. Czerny had arranged the Fugue above alluded to, before Halm; but his production met with no more approval than Hummel's movement from Fidelio.[144]

The above facts show that if Beethoven was a rigid, he was likewise a just critic: that he was rigid in exactions upon himself more than upon others, is obvious from the scores of all his works. His critical judgment on musical compositions was frequently accompanied by violent ebullitions of temper. A remarkable instance of this occurred after he had examined Ries's Concerto, ent.i.tled "Farewell to London." Beethoven was so singularly displeased with this work, that he addressed a fulminating letter to the Editor of the Leipzig _Musikalische Zeitung_, wherein he enjoins Ries no longer to call himself his pupil. Kanne and Schuppanzigh, whom I acquainted with this affair, joined me in persuading the enraged master to refrain from any further demonstration of displeasure. But, in the mean time Ries had received his reprimand, and that for several years afterwards he smarted under the heavy rebuke of his old master is, I think, evident from a pa.s.sage in his _Notizen_.

Why did not Ries insert Beethoven's letter in that publication? It would have been in many respects interesting, and, at the same time, a real example of the great master's peculiarities.[145]

Franz Lachner, T. Horzalka, and Leopoldine Blahetka, all experienced from Beethoven a kind reception, and an acknowledgment of their eminent talents. It was in consequence of the encouragement, and indeed the a.s.sistance of Beethoven, in her education, that Mademoiselle Blahetka was destined by her father to the musical profession.

How greatly did Beethoven admire the genius of Franz Schubert! But it was not until he was on his death-bed that he had a complete perception of that talent, which the representations of certain persons had previously caused him to underrate. When I made him acquainted with Schubert's _Ossians Gesange_, _die Burgschaft_, _die junge Nonne_, _Grenzen der Menschheit_, and some other productions of the same composer, he exclaimed, with deep emotion:--"Truly Schubert is animated by a spark of heavenly fire!"

I could quote the names of many other artists, who will cherish, as long as they live, a gratifying remembrance of the kindness shown to them by Beethoven. That our great master was not disposed to treat with undue courtesy artistical presumption, which sometimes, in his latter years, boldly raised its head before him, may naturally be supposed. _Exempla sunt odiosa._ But on such aberrations Beethoven's high mind looked down with compa.s.sion.

I will close this chapter with the following remarks:--

Beethoven possessed too much genuine religious feeling to believe that Nature had created him to be a model for future ages, as many of his wors.h.i.+ppers, not unfrequently actuated by interested motives, would fain have persuaded him. A stranger to the business of this world, and living, as it were, in another, Beethoven was like a child, to whom every external influence gives a new impulse; and who in like manner does not turn an unwilling ear to flattery, because incapable of estimating the purpose for which the adulation is bestowed. This ignorance of the world--this lofty or puerile feeling, whichever it may be termed, was in Beethoven only transitory, and he soon recovered his manly tone of mind. Beethoven well knew and always respected the motto--_Palmam qui meruit ferat!_ His upright, impartial mind led him to bestow, unsolicited, the most unequivocal approbation on foreign talent; often as he found that approbation lessened, or discovered that it had been altogether cast away upon certain "backsliding men," as he termed them. Beethoven always bore in mind that a Mozart had preceded him, and that another might follow him. He ever cherished high expectations of the future, for he fervently believed in the omnipotence of the Creator, and the inexhaustibility of Nature. Oh! how great was Beethoven as a man! Who ever learned to know him on that side, and was capable of comprehending and judging not only of his mighty genius but also of his n.o.ble heart, will not fail to place the moral man, if not above the great composer, at least on the same level with him.

Beethoven was very fond, especially in the dusk of the evening, of seating himself at the piano to improvise, or he would frequently take up the violin or viola, for which purpose these two instruments were always left lying on the piano. In the latter years of his life, his playing at such times was more painful than agreeable to those who heard it. The inward mind alone was active; but the outward sense no longer co-operated with it: consequently the outpourings of his fancy became scarcely intelligible. Sometimes he would lay his left hand flat upon the key-board, and thus drown, in discordant noise, the music to which his right was feelingly giving utterance. It is well known that Beethoven, in his early years, did not perform his own compositions purely; for no other reason, however, than his want of time to keep the mechanical power of his fingers in practice; but his improvisations, when he was free from the restraint of reading notes, were the finest effusions of the kind imaginable. The imperial court piano-forte-maker, Conrad Graf, made for Beethoven a sound-conductor, which, being placed on the piano-forte, helped to convey the tone more distinctly to his ear; but though this contrivance was ingenious, it afforded no a.s.sistance in Beethoven's case of extreme deafness. The most painful thing of all was to hear him improvise on stringed instruments, owing to his incapability of tuning them. The music which he thus produced was frightful, though in his mind it was pure and harmonious.

In winter as well as in summer it was Beethoven's practice to rise at day-break, and immediately to sit down to his writing-table. There he would labour till two or three o'clock, his usual dinner-time. Meanwhile he would go out once or twice in the open air, where, to use M. Saphir's phrase, he would work and walk. Then, after the lapse of half an hour or an hour, he would return home to note down the ideas which he had collected. As the bee gathers honey from the flowers of the meadows, so Beethoven often collected his most sublime ideas while roaming about in the open fields. The habit of going abroad suddenly and as unexpectedly returning, just as the whim happened to strike him, was practised by Beethoven alike at all seasons of the year: cold or heat, rain or sun-s.h.i.+ne, were all alike to him. In the autumn he used to return to town as sun-burnt as though he had been sharing the daily toil of the reapers and gleaners. Winter restored his somewhat yellow complexion. In No. 2 of the Appendix will be found a fac-simile of some of his first ideas, noted down with pencil, immediately as they were conceived amidst the inspiring scenery of nature.

The use of the bath was as much a necessity to Beethoven as to a Turk; and he was in the habit of submitting himself to frequent ablutions.

When it happened that he did not walk out of doors to collect his ideas, he would not unfrequently, in a fit of the most complete abstraction, go to his wash-hand basin, and pour several jugs of water upon his hands, all the while humming and roaring, for sing he could not. After dabbling in the water till his clothes were wet through, he would pace up and down the room, with a vacant expression of countenance, and his eyes frightfully distended; the singularity of his aspect being often increased by an unshaven beard. Then he would seat himself at his table and write; and afterwards get up again to the wash-hand basin, and dabble and hum as before. Ludicrous as were these scenes, no one dared venture to notice them, or to disturb him while engaged in his inspiring ablutions, for these were his moments, or I should rather say his hours, of profoundest meditation. It will be readily believed, that the people in whose houses he lodged were not very well pleased when they found the water trickling through the floor to the ceiling below, as sometimes happened; and Beethoven's change of lodgings was often the consequence of these occurrences. On such occasions comical scenes sometimes ensued.

At every quarterly payment of his pension Beethoven was required, before he could receive the money, to procure from the curate of the district in which he resided, a certificate to prove that he was actually living.

When he happened to be in the country, he used to get me or some other friend to draw up this certificate, and whenever he wrote to make this request it was always in some humorous or jesting manner. On one of these occasions he addressed to me a note containing merely the following words, unaccompanied by any explanation; he of course knew very well that I should understand their import:--

"Certificate.

"The fish is alive.

"Vidi,

"Pastor ROMUALDUS."

It has been so much the custom to compare Beethoven with Jean Paul Richter, that the correctness of the comparison seems to be taken for granted; nevertheless, it appears to me to be very unjust. Jean Paul was not his favourite author. If Beethoven ever looked into his works, he cannot be said to have read them; they were too aphoristic and enigmatical for his taste. To imagine that there exists any general resemblance between our great composer and Jean Paul Richter is a great mistake; that writer, it is true, occasionally makes excursions into the region of dreamy and sentimental life; but as a painter of feelings he is not to be placed on a level with Beethoven. A comparison with Shakspeare or Michael Angelo might be more correct. Shakspeare was Beethoven's favourite poet.

Though Beethoven was throughout his whole life a prey to misfortune and disappointment, yet there were moments in which he did not scruple to inflict pain and disappointment on others. Nevertheless, it must be observed that in most cases of this kind he acted under some other influence than that of his own feelings. The following circ.u.mstance occurred in the latter years of his life.

The wife of M. H----m, an esteemed piano-forte player and composer, residing in Vienna, was a great admirer of Beethoven, and she earnestly wished to possess a lock of his hair. Her husband, anxious to gratify her, applied to a gentleman who was very intimate with Beethoven, and who had rendered him some service. At the instigation of this person, Beethoven was induced to send the lady a lock of hair cut from a goat's beard; and Beethoven's own hair being very gray and harsh, there was no reason to fear that the hoax would be very readily detected. The lady was overjoyed at possessing this supposed memorial of her saint, proudly showing it to all her acquaintance; but when her happiness was at its height, some one, who happened to know the secret, made her acquainted with the deception that had been practised on her. In a letter addressed to Beethoven, her husband warmly expressed his feelings on the subject of the discovery that had been made. Convinced of the mortification which the trick must have inflicted on the lady, Beethoven determined to make atonement for it. He immediately cut off a lock of his hair, and enclosed it in a note, in which he requested the lady's forgiveness of what had occurred. The respect which Beethoven previously entertained for the instigator of this unfeeling trick was now converted into hatred, and he would never afterwards receive a visit from him.

This is not the only instance that could be mentioned, in which our great master was influenced by vulgar-minded persons to do things unworthy of himself.

Questions have frequently been addressed to me respecting the motive of the last movement of the Quartett in F, op. 135; to which Beethoven affixed as a superscription the words--_Der schwer-gefa.s.ste Entschluss.

Un effort d'inspiration. "Muss es sein?" "Es muss sein!"_[146] Between Beethoven and the people in whose houses he at different times lodged, the most ludicrous scenes arose whenever the period arrived for demanding payment of the rent. The keeper of the house was obliged to go to him, almanack in hand, to prove that the week was expired, and that the money must be paid. Even in his last illness he sang with the most comical seriousness to his landlady the interrogatory motivo of the quartett above mentioned. The woman understood his meaning, and, entering into his jocose humour, she stamped her foot, and emphatically answered, "_Es muss sein!_" There is another version of the story relative to this motivo. It refers to a publisher of music, and does not differ very much from the anecdote I have just related. Both turn upon the article money, and are merely jokes. But what a poetic palace has Beethoven built on this very prosaic foundation!

Great men as well as their inferiors, are subject to certain natural wants, such as eating and drinking. Some of Beethoven's peculiarities in these matters, which will not be uninteresting to many of his admirers, deserve at the same time to be ranked among the curiosities of housekeeping.

For his breakfast he usually took coffee, which he frequently prepared himself; for in this beverage he had an oriental fastidiousness of taste. He allowed sixty beans for each cup, and lest his measure should mislead him to the amount of a bean or two, he made it a rule to count over the sixty for each cup, especially when he had visitors. He performed this task with as much care as others of greater importance.

At dinner his favourite dish was macaroni with Parmesan cheese, which must have been very bad before he p.r.o.nounced it to be so; but that it was not always very good may be inferred from the uncertainty of the time he occupied in writing, and consequently of the hour for his meals.

He was likewise very fond of every kind of fish; and consequently fast days imposed no sacrifice on him. To certain guests he only gave invitations on Fridays, for then his table was always adorned with a fine _Schill_[147] and potatoes. Supper was not a meal which he cared much about. A plate of soup, or something left from dinner, was all he partook of, and he was in bed by ten o'clock. He never wrote in the afternoon, and but very seldom in the evening. He disliked to correct what he had written. This he always felt an irksome task. He preferred making a fresh copy of his notes.

Beethoven's favourite beverage was fresh spring water, of which he often drank copiously from morning to night. He preferred the wine of the heights around Buda to every other; but, as he was no judge of wine, he could not distinguish the adulterated from the pure; and, by drinking the former, he frequently caused great derangement to his weak stomach; but no warning of this kind had any effect upon him. Among his enjoyments may also be numbered a gla.s.s of good beer and a pipe of tobacco in the evening. To these may be added the perusal of the political journals, especially the Augsburg _Allgemeine Zeitung_. This sort of reading engrossed a great deal of his time.

He frequently visited taverns and coffee-houses, even in the latter years of his life; but he usually had some favourite one, which was provided with a back door, at which he could go in and out. Strangers who wished to get a sight of Beethoven used to go to the coffee-house he was in the habit of frequenting; for thither he would repair to a certainty once or twice a week, not for the purpose of conversing, but of reading the journals. When he had glanced over the last paper, he would hurry away, making his exit by the back door.

M. Ignaz von Seyfried, in his account of Beethoven,[148] states that he was a perfect master of the Latin, French, and Italian languages. In as far as relates to the first-mentioned language, Dr. Wegeler mentions in his work (p. 9) that Beethoven "learned something of Latin at Bonn."

But, in proof of his very slight acquaintance with that language, I need only mention the fact that, on the first occasion of his composing a Ma.s.s, he was obliged not only to get the words translated, but also the quant.i.ties of the different syllables explained to him. How far he was conversant with the French language may be seen from the style of his letter to Cherubini (in the Third Period); and other examples of the same kind might be quoted. That he was better acquainted with it in his earlier days, before his deafness rendered him incapable of joining in conversation, may be readily presumed. As to Italian, he could only read it. Beethoven greatly admired the cla.s.sic writers of antiquity, and perused their works in the best translations, of all of which he possessed copies. This industrious reading, combined with his vast musical labours, left him little time for the study of languages. He had, however, as intimate a knowledge of the translated works of some of the Greek authors as he had of his own scores. With Shakspeare, also, he was equally well acquainted. In his friends he required the same extent of reading; otherwise their society became wearisome to him.

I feel bound to notice some observations made by M. von Seyfried on the subject of Beethoven's housekeeping. At page 16 of his publication he states that "Beethoven used to go himself to market, and after bargaining and buying, not at the best price, he would return home and cook, with his own hands, the articles he had purchased," &c. Oh! M.

Seyfried! "Quousque tandem?"--Is it not usual for persons in the most respectable conditions of life to purchase rare vegetables or fruit for the table? Beethoven did so, but when he wished to furnish his table with some rarities for his guests his housekeeper accompanied him, and carried home what he purchased; and he always purchased the best. His old housekeeper, on the contrary, was not so nice in her selection. Had M. von Seyfried ever been Beethoven's guest, he might have persuaded himself that his table was not ill provided. But that Beethoven should have been so far the victim of suspicion as to be induced, by an absurd distrust of others, to cook his own food, is a circ.u.mstance which I never heard of; and other friends of the great composer, to whom I have applied for information, disclaim in like manner all knowledge of the fact. However, as Beethoven was very fond of a joke, it is not impossible that he may have got up this cookery farce for the sake of mystifying some of his guests. Nevertheless, thus much is certain, that in his latter days he carried his suspicious feeling to such an extreme that he would trust n.o.body to pay the most trifling bills for him, and would often doubt the authenticity of a receipt. This suspicion extended even to his trustworthy old housekeeper. M. von Seyfried must pardon this comment on his statements. The exaggeration was doubtless on his part unintentional; he wrote from hearsay, a medium through which facts are frequently altered and perverted. In the year 1805 he was, as he mentions, on a footing of intimate intercourse with Beethoven, but that intimacy did not extend either to a previous or a subsequent period.

However, the suspension of personal communication had not the effect of diminis.h.i.+ng the respect entertained for Beethoven by M. von Seyfried; that able artist did not regard our great composer with the jaundiced eye with which he was regarded by certain _hommes de metier_. M. von Seyfried is one of the few who understood and appreciated Beethoven's inward worth, without being misled by outward appearances. (See p. 27 of his work.)

The doubts respecting the genuineness of many ma.n.u.scripts attributed to Beethoven, which have come to light since his death, are worthy of consideration.[149] A great deal of imposition has already been practised, and will probably be carried still further; consequently, only Beethoven's handwriting, or his attestation to the authenticity of the ma.n.u.scripts, can remove doubts on the subject.

I will mention one instance out of many, to show how far unblus.h.i.+ng effrontery has already been carried on this point. In the year 1827, a few months after Beethoven's death, a certain M. E---- offered for sale to the Messrs. Schott, in Mainz, an Opera alleged to be composed by Beethoven. Those publishers having consulted me on the business, I advised them to demand a sight of the work in Beethoven's hand-writing, adding, that there existed no authentic ma.n.u.script Opera by Beethoven.

The particulars of this not unimportant affair were published in 1828, in the 7th volume of the Caecilia.

It is a positive fact, that Beethoven never wrote any scientific work, either on music or any other subject. Whatever works, therefore, may have been published under his name, cannot be authenticated upon autographic evidence.

I will wind up these biographical particulars with a description of the great master's personal appearance, together with a few remarks on the best portraits of him with which I am acquainted.

Beethoven's height scarcely exceeded five feet four inches, Vienna measure. His figure was compact, strong, and muscular. His head, which was unusually large, was covered with long bushy grey hair, which, being always in a state of disorder, gave a certain wildness to his appearance. This wildness was not a little heightened when he suffered his beard to grow to a great length, as he frequently did. His forehead was high and expanded; and he had small brown eyes, which, when he laughed, seemed to be nearly sunk in his head; but, on the other hand, they were suddenly distended to an unusually large size when one of his musical ideas took possession of his mind. On such occasions he would look upwards, his eyes rolling and flas.h.i.+ng brightly, or straight forward with his eyeb.a.l.l.s fixed and motionless. His whole personal appearance then underwent a sudden and striking change. There was an air of inspiration and dignity in his aspect; and his diminutive figure seemed to tower to the gigantic proportions of his mind. These fits of sudden inspiration frequently came upon Beethoven when he was in company, and even when he was in the street, where he naturally excited the marked attention of every pa.s.ser by. Every thought that arose in his mind was expressed in his animated countenance. He never gesticulated either with his head or his hands, except when he was standing before the orchestra. His mouth was well formed; his under lip (at least in his younger years) protruded a little, and his nose was rather broad. His smile diffused an exceedingly amiable and animated expression over his countenance, which, when he was in conversation with strangers, had a peculiarly pleasing and encouraging effect. But though his smile was agreeable, his laugh was otherwise. It was too loud, and distorted his intelligent and strongly marked features. When he laughed, his large head seemed to grow larger, his face became broader, and he might not inaptly have been likened to a grinning ape; but fortunately his fits of laughter were of very transient duration. His chin was marked in the middle and on each side with a long furrow, which imparted a striking peculiarity to that part of his countenance. His complexion was of a yellowish tint, which, however, went off in the summer season, when he was accustomed to be much out in the open air. His plump cheeks were then suffused with fresh hues of red and brown.

Under this latter aspect, full of health and vigour, and during one of his intervals of inspiration, the painter, H. Schimon, (now in Munich,) took his likeness. The picture is a bust size, in oil. At the time it was painted, Beethoven was forty-nine years old. The engraving prefixed to this work is taken from it. Some years after this picture was painted, another was executed by Stieler, the portrait painter to the court of Munich. This is a half length, and the composer is represented with a pen in his hand, writing on a piece of music paper the words "Missa Solennis." This picture is excellent, and the likeness faithful; but it has not the air of vigour and animation portrayed in that of Schimon, the absence of which may be easily accounted for, Beethoven having suffered a fit of illness of two years' duration. But he remained as Stieler's portrait represents him until his death, which took place five years after the picture was painted. Beethoven's family possess a portrait of him, which was painted at an earlier period than either of those I have described. It is a half length, and represents him in a sitting posture.

These three pictures are the only ones which can be relied on, as likenesses of the great composer, and as worthy of the attention of his admirers. The few others which are here and there to be seen are valueless, having been painted merely from the imagination of the artists.

The same remark is applicable to most of the copperplate and lithographic portraits of Beethoven. Excepting the copperplate engraving by Letronne, and the lithographic drawing after Stieler's picture, (however only those published by Trentschensky, late Artaria, in Vienna,) I know of no print which conveys an accurate idea of the countenance of my beloved friend and master--that countenance which I fancy I still behold, living, and before me.

[The author of this Biography adds here an Appendix, which I have omitted, as having too little relation with the object of this work, and by his own authorisation to the publisher. It suffices to mention that it treats of the state of music at Munster and Aix-la-Chapelle. In the first town M. Schindler lived three years as director of a musical inst.i.tute, and since 1835 he has been music-director at Aix-la-Chapelle. In both these towns he has endeavoured, more or less successfully, to exalt the taste for cla.s.sical music. He bears testimony also against the eccentricity and degeneracy of the modern style of pianoforte-playing, particularly in reference to the manner of performing Beethoven's music, and draws the attention of the musical world to a most promising talent, a Mdlle. Hansemann, in Aix-la-Chapelle, his pupil. This lady, according to his expectations, will develop in her style of playing the true spirit of Beethoven.--ED.]