Life of Beethoven Part 2

Schenk, composer of the music to the _Dorfbarbier_, a man of mild, amiable disposition, and profoundly versed in musical science. M. Schenk one day met Beethoven, when he was coming with his roll of music under his arm from Haydn. Schenk threw his eye over it, and perceived here and there various inaccuracies. He pointed them out to Beethoven, who a.s.sured him that Haydn had just corrected that piece. Schenk turned over the leaves, and found the grossest blunders left untouched in the preceding pieces. Beethoven now conceived a suspicion of Haydn, and would have given up taking instructions from him, but was dissuaded from that resolution, till Haydn's second visit to England afforded a fitting occasion for carrying it into effect. From this moment a coolness took place between Haydn and Beethoven. Ries heard Beethoven say that he had indeed taken lessons of Haydn, but never learned anything of him. (See his _Notizen_, p. 86.)[13] The conduct of Haydn in this case was variously construed, as he was known to be in other respects a conscientious man: but no certain motive can be alleged for it. M.

Schenk continued to be from that time the confidential corrector of Beethoven's compositions, even after Albrechtsberger had undertaken to give him instructions in counterpoint. Here I must record a remarkable fact which serves to characterise both these old friends.

Owing to Beethoven's unsettled life, it was too frequently the case that for years he knew nothing about intimate friends and acquaintance, though they, like himself, resided within the walls of the great capital; and if they did not occasionally give him a call, to him they were as good as dead. Thus it happened, that one day--it was in the beginning of the spring of 1824--I was walking with him over the Graben, when we met M. Schenk, then far advanced between sixty and seventy.

Beethoven, transported with joy to see his old friend still among the living, seized his hand, hastened with him into a neighbouring tavern called the Bugle Horn, and conducted us into a back room, where, as in a catacomb, it was necessary to burn a light even at noon-day. There we shut ourselves in, and Beethoven began to open all the recesses of his heart to his respected corrector. More talkative than he often was, a mult.i.tude of stories and anecdotes of long by-gone times presented themselves to his recollection, and among the rest the affair with Haydn; and Beethoven, who had now raised himself to the sovereignty in the realm of music, loaded the modest composer of the _Dorfbarbier_, who was living in narrow circ.u.mstances, with professions of his warmest thanks for the kindness which he had formerly shown him. Their parting, after that memorable hour, as if for life, was deeply affecting; and, in fact, from that day, they never beheld one another again.

As, in that cla.s.sic period of musical activity, Beethoven was the sun which all strove to approach, and rejoiced if they could but catch a glance of his brilliant eye; it was natural that he should converse much with ladies, several of whom were always contending for his affections at once, as it is well known, and he more than once found himself, like Hercules, in a dilemma. Dr. Wegeler says in his publication (page 42) that "Beethoven was never without an attachment, and that mostly he was very deeply smitten." This is quite true. How could any rational person who is acquainted with Beethoven solely from his works, maintain the contrary?[14] Whoever is capable of feeling how powerfully the pure flame of love operates upon the imagination, more especially of the sensitive and highly-endowed artist, and how in all his productions it goes before him like a light sent down from Heaven to guide him, will take it for granted, without any evidence, that Beethoven was susceptible of the purest love, and that he was conducted by it. What genius could have composed the Fantasia in C without such a pa.s.sion![15]

And here be it observed, merely by the way, it was love for the Giulietta to whom that imaginative composition is dedicated, which inspired him while engaged upon it. Beethoven seems to have retained his affection for that lady as long as he lived. Of this I think I can produce striking evidence, but it belongs to the second period.

Wegeler's remark (p. 44) is perfectly true, that the objects of Beethoven's attachment were always of the higher rank. No prejudice on the part of Beethoven had anything to do with this, which arose solely from the circ.u.mstance of his having at that time most intercourse with persons in high life,--an intercourse promoted moreover by his connexion with the princely house of Lichnowsky. Beethoven frequently declared that at this time he was best appreciated and best comprehended as an artist by n.o.ble and other high personages. High, however, as the converse with such personages was calculated to raise him intellectually, still, in regard to love, and a permanent happiness arising out of it, that circ.u.mstance was not advantageous to him. I shall take occasion to treat by and by more explicitly of this interesting topic, and shall merely observe here that, though exposed to such manifold seductions, Beethoven had, like the demi-G.o.d of old, the firmness to preserve his virtue unscathed; that his refined sense of right and wrong could not endure anything impure, and in a moral respect equivocal, about it; and that, considered on this score, he pa.s.sed through life, conscious of no fault, with truly virgin modesty and unblemished character. The higher Muse, who had selected him for such important service, gave his views an upward direction, and preserved him, even in professional matters, from the slightest collision with the vulgar, which, in life as in art, was his abomination. Would that she had done as much for him in regard to the civil relations of life, as they are called, to which every inhabitant of earth is subject! How infinitely higher would Beethoven's genius have soared, if, in the ordinary intercourse of life, he had not been brought into conflict with so many base and contemptible minds!

Among the compositions of such various kinds that belong to this period were, besides the three Sonatas dedicated to Haydn, the first three Trios, several Quartetts for stringed instruments, two Concertos for the piano-forte, the Septett, the First and Second Symphony, more than twenty Sonatas, and the music to Vigano's ballet "Die Geschopfe des Prometheus" (The Creations of Prometheus), which was performed in 1799, at the Imperial Operahouse; but the most important of these were not printed till a later period. It may not be amiss here to remark that the numbers affixed to Beethoven's works do not indicate the order in which they were composed by the master, but that in which they were published. Many works he kept back, frequently for several years, for the purpose of severe correction, while later compositions were sent into the world without delay.[16] This mode of proceeding, it is true, produced a confusion in the continuous numbering of his works, which he himself knew not how to remedy. At first, he purposed to number the works in the order in which they were composed, though some that were earlier written might not be published till after later ones were already printed. From the chasms which it was on this account found necessary to leave open, arose disorder; and hence we meet with many a number twice and even thrice over in the catalogues, and others not at all. Thus, for example, in the catalogue annexed to the "_Beethoven Studien_," Op. 29 is prefixed first to three Sonatas, then to the Preludes, and once more to the Quintett in C. In M. Artaria's catalogue, No. 29 is even attached to four, No. 3 to six, and No. 75 to three works. The latter catalogue specifies in the whole one hundred and fifty-two different works of Beethoven's, with numbers and opus-figures, while catalogues containing merely opus-numbers exhibit only one hundred and thirty-eight.

That Beethoven had already at this time many more commissions for works than he could execute, we learn from his letter of the 29th of June, 1800, to Dr. Wegeler,[17] where he likewise mentions that he is paid what he charges for them; and it is interesting to remark how small are the sums then paid for the copyright of his works by publishers in comparison with those which he received twenty years later, as we shall see in the third period. In his letter of the 15th of January, 1801, to the music publisher, Hofmeister, in Leipzig,[18] there is a statement of the prices charged for some works, which may serve as a kind of standard for others. He asks, for instance, for the Septett twenty ducats (ten louis-d'ors), for the First Symphony twenty ducats, for the First Concerto ten ducats, and for the grand B major Sonata (Op. 22) twenty ducats.

During a period of at least ten or twelve years it was at Prince Lichnowsky's musical parties that almost all Beethoven's works were first tried, and the refined taste of the prince, as well as his solid musical acquirements, commanded such respect from Beethoven, that he readily followed his advice in regard to the alteration or improvement of this or that in his compositions--a point on which he was extremely self-willed. Thus, too, at a later period, he would rather hear censures than praise from those to whom he gave credit for comprehending him; and but very few performers could boast of being so fortunate as to be allowed to teach him the peculiarities and the treatment of their respective instruments. M. Kraft, the elder, and subsequently M. Linke, taught him the mechanism of the violoncello, M. Punto that of the horn, and M. Friedlowsky the elder that of the clarinet: and it was these artists whom Beethoven chiefly consulted respecting his compositions, and to whose arguments he listened, even when it went ever so much against the grain to alter this or that pa.s.sage.[19]

The Quartett which so early as that time had attained high distinction, consisting of Schuppanzigh, first violin, Sina second violin, Weiss, Bratsche (viola) Kraft, the elder, alternating with Linke, violoncello; which at a later period acquired universal and well-deserved celebrity by the appellation of "the Rasumowsky Quartett"--this Quartett enraptured the musical circle of Prince Lichnowsky, and into the souls of these four superior artists did Beethoven in time breathe his own sublime spirit. Him only who can boast of such good fortune I call the scholar, the disciple, of a great master, who can and must further diffuse his precepts in all their purity. How to place the fingers on the instrument, how to perform difficult pa.s.sages upon it, can be taught by thousands without possessing a single spark of genius. Not the skilful management of technicalities, the spirit alone is the truth of every art. And this spirit, which in Beethoven himself attained its full vigour only with the lapse of time, gradually grew up in this a.s.sociation composing that Quartett till it arrived at its full development, and thus it continued till Beethoven's death, though Messrs. Sina and Weiss had left Vienna, and their places had been supplied by two worthy successors, Messrs. Holz and Kaufmann.[20] The reunion of these four artists, over the musical purity of whose manners Beethoven never ceased to watch with anxiety, was justly regarded as the only genuine school for acquiring a knowledge of Beethoven's quartett-music, that new world full of sublime conceptions and revelations. A letter addressed by the great master to this Quartett--when, in 1825, one of his last difficult Quartetts was to be performed for the first time before a select audience, I must not here omit, on account of its humorous tenor, particularly as it proves at the same time Beethoven's anxiety in their behalf which has been alluded to above. It is verbatim as follows:--

"My dear Friends,

"Herewith each of you will receive what belongs to him, and is hereby engaged, upon condition that each binds himself upon his honour to do his best to distinguish himself and to surpa.s.s the rest.

"This paper must be signed by each of those who have to co-operate in the affair in question.

"BEETHOVEN."

(Here follow the four signatures.)

If I further mention that, towards the end of this first period of his life, Beethoven made a professional tour, of but short duration, it is true, to Leipzig and Berlin; that he excited a great sensation in both these cities; and that his merits were duly appreciated, I think I may fairly conclude the first part of the life of that gigantic genius, who had thus far already marked out for himself the course which he meant to pursue, and from which he was not to be diverted, even by the storms that soon afterwards burst over the musical world. I shall therefore pause only to cast a rapid glance at the state of the art, and at the prevailing taste of that period.

In all Germany, and particularly in Vienna, music was much cultivated, and that chiefly good music (because then there was not so much bad produced as succeeding years have brought forth); for the lower cla.s.ses, among whom there had previously been many attentive auditors, began to pay more and more attention to the divine art, but at the same time rarely possessed high mental cultivation, or had a just conception of the nature of music and its sublimest object, and upon the whole was still full of prejudices against every art;--when the number of composers was not yet swollen to legion, and was confined to those who were really qualified by Nature, though not always endowed with the lofty powers of genius. But all these persons meant honestly by art, which, now-a-days, is too rarely the case; and, to mean honestly by a matter to which one dedicates one's abilities, tends greatly to promote its success. The magicians of those days, Herder, Wieland, Lessing, Gothe, and many more; together with Gluck, Sebastian Bach and his sons, Mozart, Haydn, Salieri, and the aspiring Beethoven, had exercised such a beneficial influence on the n.o.bler, the intellectual cultivation, especially of the superior cla.s.ses, that art and science were reckoned by very many among the highest, the chief requisites of intellectual existence. In the German Opera, which, through Gluck and Mozart, had attained its acme, and arrived at the same degree of perfection and estimation as the Italian, truth of expression, dignity, and sublimity in every point, were far more highly prized than the mere fluency of throat, hollow pathos, and excitements of sense, studied in that of the present day. These two inst.i.tutions operated powerfully on all who were susceptible of what is truly beautiful and n.o.ble. Haydn's "Creation,"

and Handel's Oratorios, attracted unprecedented auditories, and afforded the highest gratification, with bands of one hundred and fifty, or at most two hundred performers; whereas, in our over-refined times, from six to eight hundred, nay, even upwards of a thousand, are required by people in order to enjoy the din which this legion produces, while little or no attention is paid to the main point.[21] In short, at that time people thankfully accepted great things offered with small means, sought mind and soul in music as the highest gratification, and had no conception of that materialism which now-a-days presides over musical matters, any more than they had of the tendency of the gradual improvements in the mechanism of musical instruments and their abuse to lower taste. The dillettantism of that period remained modestly in its place, and did not offer itself for hire, as at the present day, in every province and in every country, paid sincere respect to art and artists, and arrogated to itself no position which the accomplished professional man alone should have occupied--a mal-practice now so common in many places. In a word, people really loved music without ostentation; they allowed it to operate upon them with its magic charms, no matter whether it was executed by four performers or by four hundred, and employed it in general as the surest medium for improving heart and mind, and thus giving a n.o.ble direction to the feelings. The German nation could still derive the inspiration of simple greatness, genuine sensibility, and humane feelings from its music; it still thoroughly understood the art of drawing down from the magic sphere of harmony the inexpressible and the spiritually sublime, and securing them for itself.

In and with those times, and among their n.o.blest and best, lived Beethoven, in cheerful Vienna, where his genius found thousand-fold encouragement to exert its power, free and unfettered, and exposed to no other misrepresentations and enmity than those of envy alone.

This was a splendid era of art, such an era as may perhaps never recur; and, with special reference to Beethoven, the golden age. Under such circ.u.mstances, surrounded and beloved by persons of such delicate sentiments, he ought to have been completely happy; and he certainly would have been so but for a hardness of hearing, which, even then,--that is to say, in the latter years of this first period of his life,--began to afflict him, and was sometimes of long continuance. This complaint, which affected his temper, was subsequently aggravated into a dreadful disease, which rendered him inexpressibly miserable.

SECOND PERIOD.

FROM 1800 TO OCTOBER, 1813.

General View of the Second Period of Beethoven's Life--Composition of his "Christ on the Mount of Olives" and "Fidelio"--His brothers, Carl and Johann; their mischievous influence--His severe Illness--Remarkable Will addressed to them--His "Sinfonia Eroica,"

in honour of Napoleon--Count Moritz von Lichnowsky--Opera of "Fidelio"--Beethoven's Neglect of Vocal Performers--Their Intrigues and Cabals--His Pa.s.sion for Julia--Letters to her--Disappointed Love--Countess Marie Erdody--Beethoven as Director of the Orchestra--Animadversions on Statements of Ferdinand Ries--Beethoven forms a friendship with Count Franz von Brunswick and Baron Gleichenstein--Prices paid for his Compositions during the Second Period--Misconduct of his Brothers--Defence of his Character against the charge of Cowardice--Annuity settled upon him, to keep him in Austria--His dislike of, and reconciliation with, Hummel--Foreign Visitors--Bettina Brentano--Gothe--Beethoven's frequent change of Residence--His Domestic Circ.u.mstances.

This second period is, from beginning to end, a complete labyrinth, in which the great composer was lost, and where the biographer, too, might lose his way along with him, if he were not to hold all the threads of this drama firmly and tightly in his hands, and if he were not intimately acquainted with the characters of all the actors in it. The "evil principle," in the shape of his two brothers, Carl and Johann, incessantly besets him, and pursues him wherever he goes. Fate deprives him of hearing, and thus bars the access to word or tone. A host of friends and admirers of all cla.s.ses throng around him for the purpose of delivering him from both these evils; they pour their counsels into the ear of poor Beethoven, who listens only to those of the last friend, which, however, the "evil principle" is always at hand to counteract.

The entanglements multiply: envy, intrigue, and all sorts of pa.s.sions, strive to perform their parts to the best of their power, and close every avenue and outlet. With regret, the biographer is obliged here to inform the reader beforehand, that this drama unfortunately is not concluded in this second period: at the same time he admits with pleasure that, in the thousand conflicts and collisions, the sacred Muse conducted her high-priest with protecting hand, since she caused him to meet with several excellent friends, who found means to secure his confidence for a length of time, and a.s.sisted to bring him as unharmed as could be expected out of this labyrinth of human frailties and pa.s.sions to the third period of his life.[22]

The scene before us shows but too plainly how difficult a task is here imposed upon the biographer, to unravel this tangled web, and, with its threads, to continue to weave the history with a due regard to truth and justice. He shall therefore be obliged to treat very summarily of the greater part of those unhappy circ.u.mstances, together with their causes; and to throw them overboard, wherever it can be done, as superfluous ballast, entreating the reader to have recourse to his own imagination for filling up the details of many a scene.

In the year 1800 we find Beethoven engaged in the composition of his "Christ on the Mount of Olives," the first performance of which took place on the 5th of April, 1803. He wrote this work during his summer-residence at Hetzendorf, a pleasant village, closely contiguous to the gardens of the imperial palace of Schonbrunn, where he pa.s.sed several summers of his life in profound seclusion. There he again resided in 1805, and wrote his "Fidelio." A circ.u.mstance connected with both these great works, and of which Beethoven many years afterwards still retained a lively recollection, was, that he composed them in the thickest part of the wood in the park of Schonbrunn, seated between the two stems of an oak, which shot out from the main trunk at the height of about two feet from the ground. This remarkable tree, in that part of the park to the left of the Gloriett, I found with Beethoven in 1823, and the sight of it called forth interesting reminiscences of the former period. With respect to the above-mentioned Oratorio, I ought not to omit mentioning the circ.u.mstance, that Beethoven, in the last year of his life, found fault with himself for having treated the part of Christ too dramatically, and would have given a great deal to be able to correct that "fault." Towards the end of the autumn of 1800 his Second Symphony, and the Concerto in C minor, were performed for the first time.

It was during this period that his brother Carl (his real name was Caspar), who had some years previously followed him to Vienna, began to govern him, and to make Beethoven suspicious of his sincerest friends and adherents, from wrong notions, or, perhaps, even from jealousy. It was only the still undiminished authority of Prince Lichnowsky over Beethoven and his true interests, that intimidated the latter, and somewhat checked the perversity of his brother Carl, and thereby peace was still for a short time ensured to our Beethoven and those around him. At any rate, here already commences the history of Beethoven's sufferings, which terminated only with his death, and which originated not only in the conduct of his brother, but also in his own gradually increasing deafness, and the distrust which it engendered. This first brother was joined in time by a second, Johann, whose sentiments soon became identified with those of Carl; so that the ma.s.s of the counterpoise to the scale containing what was truly necessary and salutary for Beethoven became too compact, and defied all who were acquainted with his n.o.ble disposition and his aspiring genius, and who had striven to elevate the latter by means of the former. And how did Beethoven behave amidst the innumerable contradictions and contrasts that already everywhere pursued him? Like a boy, who, having dropped from an ideal world upon the earth, utterly dest.i.tute of experience, is tossed like a ball from hand to hand, consequently is entirely under the influence of others; and such was Beethoven's case throughout his whole life.

Let this serve the reader for a key to many an enigma that will hereafter present itself to him in regard to Beethoven's conduct. We perceive from this explanation how complicated those circ.u.mstances are already becoming, which must necessarily operate upon his mental and intellectual exertions, and ultimately on his whole physical existence.

But, at the same time, we see how much depends on those about such a man, who continues in a sort of childhood, but whose mind attains a greatness that cannot harmonise with anything about him; whose will in everything becomes absolute law, even for the purpose of trying and condemning himself. Such was Beethoven throughout his whole life. Hence his never-ceasing opposition to every existing political inst.i.tution; for, in his ideal world, everything was different--everything better; and whoever coincided in these notions, to him he attached himself, and frequently with the warmest affection. Such impressions, however, were but transient, owing, in many cases, to a too ready accordance with his notions, when this appeared to be the result not of conviction, but of personal respect for himself. This he termed _flattery_, and to him it was at all times particularly offensive.

In the first months of 1802, Beethoven was attacked by a severe illness, in which he was attended by Dr. Schmidt, the celebrated physician, whom he numbered among his esteemed friends, and to whom, in token of grat.i.tude, he dedicated the Septett arranged by himself as a Trio. On his recovery he removed to Heiligenstadt, a village about seven miles distant from Vienna, where he pa.s.sed the whole of the summer. There he wrote that remarkable will, which I sent after his death to the editor of the _Wiener Theater Zeitung_, and to M. Rochlitz, at Leipzig, for the _Musikalische Zeitung_, of that city. That doc.u.ment, which must not be omitted here, is to this effect:[23]--

"_For my Brothers, Carl and ... Beethoven._

"O ye, who consider or declare me to be hostile, obstinate, or misanthropic, what injustice ye do me!--ye know not the secret causes of that which to you wears such an appearance. My heart and my mind were from childhood p.r.o.ne to the tender feelings of affection. Nay, I was always disposed even to perform great actions. But only consider that, for the last six years, I have been attacked by an incurable complaint, aggravated by the unskilful treatment of medical men, disappointed from year to year in the hope of relief, and at last obliged to submit to the endurance of an evil, the cure of which may last perhaps for years, if it is practicable at all. Born with a lively, ardent disposition, susceptible to the diversions of society, I was forced at an early age to renounce them, and to pa.s.s my life in seclusion.

If I strove at any time to set myself above all this, O how cruelly was I driven back by the doubly painful experience of my defective hearing! and yet it was not possible for me to say to people--'Speak louder--bawl--for I am deaf!' Ah! how could I proclaim the defect of a sense, that I once possessed in the highest perfection, in a perfection in which few of my colleagues possess or ever did possess it! Indeed, I cannot! Forgive me, then, if ye see me draw back when I would gladly mingle among you. Doubly mortifying is my misfortune to me, as it must tend to cause me to be misconceived. From recreation in the society of my fellow-creatures, from the pleasures of conversation, from the effusions of friendship, I am cut off. Almost alone in the world, I dare not venture into society more than absolute necessity requires. I am obliged to live as in exile. If I go into company, a painful anxiety comes over me, since I am apprehensive of being exposed to the danger of betraying my situation. Such has been my state, too, during this half year that I have spent in the country.

Enjoined by my intelligent physician to spare my hearing as much as possible, I have been almost encouraged by him in my present natural disposition; though, hurried away by my fondness for society, I sometimes suffered myself to be enticed into it. But what a humiliation, when any one standing beside me could hear at a distance a flute that I could not hear, or any one heard the shepherd singing and I could not distinguish a sound! Such circ.u.mstances brought me to the brink of despair, and had well nigh made me put an end to my life: nothing but my art held my hand. Ah!

it seemed to me impossible to quit the world before I had produced all that I felt myself called to accomplish. And so I endured this wretched life--so truly wretched, that a somewhat speedy change is capable of transporting me from the best into the worst condition.

Patience--so I am told--I must choose for my guide. I have done so.

Stedfast, I hope, will be my resolution to persevere, till it shall please the inexorable Fates to cut the thread. Perhaps there may be amendment--perhaps not; I am prepared for the worst--I, who so early as my twenty-eighth year, was forced to become a philosopher--it is not easy--for the artist, more difficult than for any other. O! G.o.d, thou lookest down upon my misery; thou knowest that it is accompanied with love of my fellow-creatures and a disposition to do good! O, men! when ye shall read this, think that ye have wronged me: and let the child of affliction take comfort on finding one like himself, who, in spite of all the impediments of nature, yet did all that lay in his power to obtain admittance into the rank of worthy artists and men. You, my brothers, Carl and ..., as soon as I am dead, if Professor Schmidt be yet living, request him, in my name, to write a description of my disease, and to that description annex this paper, that after my death the world may, at least, be as much as possible reconciled with me. At the same time, I declare both of you the heirs of the little property (if it can be so called) belonging to me. Divide it fairly; agree together, and help one another. What you have done to grieve me, that, you know, has long been forgiven. Thee, brother Carl, I thank in particular, for the affection thou hast shown me of late. My wish is that you may live more happily, more exempt from care, than I have done. Recommend virtue to your children; that alone--not wealth--can give happiness; I speak from experience. It was this that upheld me even in affliction; it is owing to this and to my art that I did not terminate my life by suicide. Farewell, and love one another. I thank all friends, especially Prince Lichnowsky and Professor Schmidt. I wish that Prince L.'s instruments may remain in the possession of one of you; but let no quarrel arise between you on account of them. In case, however, they can be more serviceable to you in another way, dispose of them. How glad I am to think that I may be of use to you even in my grave! So let it be done! I go to meet death with joy.

If he comes before I have had occasion to develop all my professional abilities, he will come too soon for me, in spite of my hard fate, and I should wish that he had delayed his arrival.

But even then I am content, for he will release me from a state of endless suffering. Come when thou wilt, I shall meet thee with firmness. Farewell, and do not quite forget me after I am dead; I have deserved that you should think of me, for in my lifetime I have often thought of you to make you happy. May you ever be so!

"LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN, m. p. (L.S.)

"_Heiligenstadt, October 6th, 1802._"

On the outside was the following:--

"For my brothers, Carl and ..., to read and to execute after my demise.

"_Heiligenstadt, October 10th, 1802._

"Thus, then, I take my leave of thee, and that with sorrow. Yes, the fond hope that I brought hither with me of cure, at least to a certain point, will now entirely forsake me. As the leaves of autumn fall withered to the ground, so is that hope become withered for me. Nearly as I came hither do I go away; even that lofty courage, which frequently animated me in the fine days of summer, has abandoned me. O, Providence! grant that a day of pure joy may once break for me! How long have I been a stranger to the delightful sound of real joy! When, O, G.o.d! when can I again feel it in the temple of Nature and of men?--never? Nay that would be too hard!"[24]

It was not till the autumn of 1802 that his state of mind had so far improved as to permit him to resume a plan which he had formed of doing homage to Napoleon, the hero of the day, in a grand instrumental work, and to set about its execution. But it was not till the following year that he applied himself in good earnest to that gigantic composition, known by the t.i.tle of "_Sinfonia Eroica_," which, however, in consequence of various interruptions, was not finished till 1804. In the mean time Beethoven wrote several Sonatas and Quartetts, which were bespoken by various n.o.ble personages and publishers. The original idea of that Symphony is said to have been suggested by General Bernadotte, who was then French amba.s.sador at Vienna, and had a high esteem for our Beethoven. So I was informed by several of his friends. Count Moritz Lichnowsky, (brother of Prince Lichnowsky), who was frequently with Beethoven in Bernadotte's company, and who is my authority for many circ.u.mstances belonging to this second period, gave me the same account.

He was always about Beethoven, and was not less attached to him than his brother.[25] The particulars relative to this subject, communicated to me by Beethoven himself, I shall reserve for the third period, where I shall have occasion to make mention of a letter addressed, in 1823, to the King of Sweden, formerly General Bernadotte.

In his political sentiments Beethoven was a republican; the spirit of independence natural to a genuine artist gave him a decided bias that way. Plato's "Republic" was transfused into his flesh and blood, and upon the principles of that philosopher he reviewed all the const.i.tutions in the world. He wished all inst.i.tutions to be modelled upon the plan prescribed by Plato. He lived in the firm belief that Napoleon entertained no other design than to republicanise France upon similar principles, and thus, as he conceived, a beginning would be made for the general happiness of the world. Hence his respect and enthusiasm for Napoleon.

A fair copy of the musical work for the first consul of the French republic, the conqueror of Marengo, with the dedication to him, was on the point of being despatched through the French emba.s.sy to Paris, when news arrived in Vienna that Napoleon Bonaparte had caused himself to be proclaimed Emperor of the French. The first thing Beethoven did on receiving this intelligence was to tear off the t.i.tle-leaf of this Symphony, and to fling the work itself, with a torrent of execrations against the new French Emperor, against the "new tyrant," upon the floor, from which he would not allow it to be lifted.[26] It was a long time before Beethoven recovered from the shock, and permitted this work to be given to the world with the t.i.tle of "Sinfonia Eroica," and underneath it this motto: "Per festegiare il sovvenire d'un gran uomo."[27] I shall only add that it was not till the tragic end of the great Emperor at St. Helena, that Beethoven was reconciled with him, and sarcastically remarked, that, seventeen years before, he had composed appropriate music to this catastrophe, in which it was exactly predicted, musically, but unwittingly--alluding to the Dead March in that Symphony.

In the years 1804 and 1805, Beethoven was almost exclusively engaged in the composition of his Opera "Fidelio," in three acts, which was performed, for the first time, by the t.i.tle of "Leonore," at the Theater an der Wien, in the autumn of 1805.[28] The fortunes which befel this extraordinary work and its author, till it was rounded into the form in which we now enjoy it, were more singular than perhaps any production of this kind before or since ever experienced; and I fear that I shall be too prolix, even if I relate only the more important circ.u.mstances and their consequences to the author.

It was the Overture in the first place that put our master in a painful situation. It was finished, but the composer himself was not thoroughly satisfied with it, and therefore agreed that it should be first tried by a small orchestra, at Prince Lichnowsky's. There it was unanimously p.r.o.nounced by a knot of connoisseurs to be too light, and not sufficiently expressive of the nature of the work; consequently it was laid aside and never made its appearance again in Beethoven's lifetime.[29] M. Tob. Haslinger, of Vienna, to whom this Overture was transferred, among other things, by his predecessor, published it a few years since, numbered, Op. 138.

The second Overture (in C major, like the first) with which the Opera was first performed upon the stage, is indisputably the cleverest of the four Overtures that Beethoven wrote to Fidelio, and the one which best characterises the subject. But it was too difficult in the part of the wind-instruments, which always executed their task to the great vexation of the composer; it was therefore obliged to give way to a third (that published by Breitkopf and Hartel), which has the same motivo in the introduction as also in the allegro-movement, with small variations; but upon the whole is totally different from the second, which has not yet been published.