Life of Beethoven Part 22

SUPPLEMENT

TO VOLUME II.

No. I.

BEETHOVEN'S LETTERS TO MLLE. VON BREUNING, WEGELER, AND RIES.

1.

_To Mlle. von Breuning._

Vienna, November 2nd, 1793.

Charming Eleonora--my dearest friend,

A year has elapsed since my stay in this capital, and this is the first letter you receive from me; yet rest a.s.sured you have ever lived in my recollection. I have often conversed with you and yours, although not with that peace of mind which I could have desired, for the late wretched altercation was hovering before me, showing me my own despicable conduct. But so it was; and what would I not give, could I obliterate from the page of my life this past action, so degrading to my character, and so unlike my usual proceedings.[150] It is true, there were many circ.u.mstances widening the breach between us, and I presume that in those whisperings, conveying to us our mutual expressions, lay the chief source of the growing evil. We both imagined that we spoke from conviction, and yet it was but in anger, and we were both of us deceived. Your good and n.o.ble mind has, I know, long forgiven me, but they say that self-accusation is the surest sign of contrition, and it is thus I wanted to stand before you. Now let us draw a veil over the whole affair, taking a warning by it, that, should a difference arise between friends, they should not have recourse to a mediator, but explain face to face. You receive herewith a dedication from me to you, and I only wish the work were greater and more worthy of you. They wanted me here to publish this little work, and I avail myself of the opportunity, to give you, my charming Eleonora, a token of my friendship and esteem, as well as a proof that you and all yours are ever present to my memory. Accept this trifle as coming from a warm admirer. Oh! if it could but give you pleasure, my wishes would be fulfilled.[151] Let it be a revival of the many blessed hours which I spent at your house; perhaps it may tend to recall me to your mind until I return, which however will not be so soon. How we _will_ rejoice then, my dear friend; you will find me a more cheerful creature, whose days of trouble have pa.s.sed away, their furrows smoothed by the lot of better days! Should you see B. Koch,[152] I beg you will tell her it is not fair that she has not once written to me, whilst I sent her two epistles, to Malchus[153] _three_, and no answer. Tell her that if _she_ chooses not to write she should at least make Malchus do so. I venture to conclude with a request that I might be so happy as once more to be put in possession of an Angola waistcoat, knitted by your hand.[154] Do excuse the troublesome request of your friend: it originates in a great predilection for all that comes from your hands, and, let me acknowledge the secret, in the gratification of my vanity, at being able to say that I possess something from one of the best and most charming young ladies of Bonn. I have still got the one which you were so kind as to give me at Bonn, but the present fashion has made it look so antiquated, that I can only keep it in my wardrobe as your gift, and as such it will ever be dear to me. You would give me sincere pleasure were you to favour me soon with a letter. Should you like to have any of mine, I promise you I shall await the opportunity to show you in this, as in all other instances, how truly I am

Your friend and admirer,

L. V. BEETHOVEN.

P.S. The Variations will be somewhat difficult to play, particularly the shake in the Coda.[155] But let not that alarm you; it is so managed that you need only do the shake, leaving out the other notes which occur in the violin part also. I should never have written such a thing, but that I had noticed an individual about Vienna who, after having heard me extemporize the preceding evening, put down many of my peculiarities the next day, showing them off as his own.[156] Taking it for granted that such things would shortly appear, I thought it wiser to be the first to publish them. Another reason was to put the piano-forte masters of this place to confusion, for many of them are my deadly enemies, and I thus take my revenge upon them, knowing how they will be asked every now and then to play these Variations, and to how little advantage my gentlemen will appear in them.

BEETHOVEN.

2.

SECOND LETTER TO MLLE. V. BREUNING.

I was most agreeably surprised by the beautiful cravat, the work of your hands. It created sensations of sorrow, much as I was pleased by the thing itself. This sorrow was called up by a recollection of former times, and by the shame I felt at your generous conduct. Truly, I did not think you had deemed me worthy of your remembrance. Oh! could you have witnessed my feelings at yesterday's occurrence, you would not deem me guilty of extravagance when I a.s.sure you that your remembrance saddened me and called forth many tears. Do pray believe me, little as I may have deserved it, believe me, _my friend_ (let me ever call you such), I have suffered much, and still suffer, from the loss of your friendship. Never shall I forget you and your dear mother. You were so kind to me that your loss cannot and will not so soon be made up to me.

I know what I had, what I lost, and what you were to me; but I must return to scenes equally painful for you to hear, as for me to relate, were I to fill up this blank.

As a slight return for your kind recollection of me, I take the liberty of sending the Variations and the Rondo with violin accompaniments. I am very busy just now, or I would have copied the long-promised Sonata for you. It is but a sketch in my ma.n.u.script, and even Paraquin, clever as he is, would have had much difficulty in transcribing it. You may have the Rondo copied, and return the score; that which I now send is the only thing amongst my works which could be of use to you, and as you are about going to Kerpen, I thought these trifles might afford you some pleasure.

Farewell, my friend, I cannot possibly give you any other name; indifferent as I may be to you, I hope you will believe in the a.s.surance of my regard for yourself and your mother. Pray let me know if I have it in my power in any way to contribute to your pleasure; it is the only remaining means of showing you my grat.i.tude for past kindness. A happy journey to you, and may your dearest mother return home perfectly recovered! Do not forget

Your still admiring friend,

BEETHOVEN.

3.

BEETHOVEN TO WEGELER.

Vienna, June 29, 1800.[157]

My dear and beloved Wegeler,

A thousand thanks to you for your recollection of me; I have not deserved it; I have not even _tried_ to deserve it; and yet my most unpardonable carelessness cannot check your friendship, which remains pure and unshaken. Do not for a moment think that I could forget you or any of those once so dear to me; there are times when I long for you, when I sincerely wish to stay with you for a while. My country and the charming place which gave me birth are ever before my eyes; their beauty undimmed as when I left them--in short, I shall consider that time the happiest, which leads me back to you all, once more greeting the Rhine in its patriarchal beauty. I cannot tell you _when_ this may be, but thus much I must say to you all, that you shall not see me until I am much greater--not greater only in my art, but better and more perfect as a man; and then, if our country should be more flourishing, I will employ my art for the benefit of the poor only.[158] O blessed moment!

how happy do I deem myself that I can call thee forth, that I can myself create thee! * * * You wish me to say something of my circ.u.mstances; why, they are by no means bad. Lichnowsky, who, improbable as it may seem to you, from the little altercations we have had, but which tended only in confirming our friendship[159]--Lichnowsky, who has always been my warmest patron, has settled upon me the sum of six hundred florins, which I may draw until I find a convenient appointment; my compositions are well paid, and I may say I have more orders than I can well execute; six or seven publishers, and more, being ready to take any of my works: I need no longer submit to being bargained with--I ask my terms, and am paid. You see this is an excellent thing; as, for instance, I see a friend in want, and my purse does not at the moment permit me to a.s.sist him; I have but to sit down and write, and my friend is no longer in need. I am grown much more economical too; should I remain here, I think I may rely upon having a day for a concert once a-year. I have already had several. But an evil spirit in the shape of my bad health plays me false; my hearing has become weaker and weaker for the last three years, and my const.i.tution has been much weakened by a stomach complaint, fearfully increased during my stay here, which is said to be the cause of this evil. Frank wanted to restore my health by tonics, and my hearing by oil of almonds; but, alack a-day, this was not to be! My hearing remained impaired, my digestion in its former condition; this continued till last autumn, when I was many a time in despair. A medical pract.i.tioner of the genus _a.s.s_ advised the cold bath for me; a more rational one ordered me that of the Danube, which is tepid: this did wonders; my general health improved, my hearing continued bad, or became worse. Last winter I was in a wretched state--every ailment returning with renewed force, until about a month ago I went to Vering, judging that my case might require surgical, as well as medical a.s.sistance, and having much confidence in his skill. He succeeded in alleviating my sufferings by the use of the tepid bath, into which was poured a strengthening mixture; he gave me no medicine, only four days ago I had some pills, besides a _tea_ for my ears, and I may say I feel stronger and better--but my ears! they are ringing and singing night and day. I do think I spend a wretched life; for the last two years shunning all society, because I cannot bring myself to walk up to people and say, "_I am deaf_." In any other profession this might pa.s.s; but in the one I have chosen, it is a wretched plight to be in; besides, my enemies, who are not few in number, what would they say? To give you a notion of this extraordinary deafness, I must tell you that I am forced in a theatre to lean up close to the orchestra in order that I may understand the actor.

I do not hear the high notes of instruments or singers at a certain distance, and it is astonishing that there are individuals who never noticed it while conversing with me; from my having been subject to frequent reveries, they attribute my silence to these. I sometimes hear those who speak in a low voice--that is to say, the sounds, but not the words, and yet if any one begins to bawl out, it annoys me excessively.

Heaven knows what it may end in! Vering says I shall certainly be much better, although I may not entirely recover. I have often cursed my existence; Plutarch has won me back to resignation. I will, if possible, defy my fate, although there will be moments when I shall be the most miserable of G.o.d's creatures. I beg of you not to mention my affliction to any one--no, not even to Laura. I confide this secret to you only, and should be glad if you would, some day, enter into correspondence upon it with Vering. Should it continue, I shall come to you next spring. You will take a cottage for me in some beautiful spot in the country, and there I shall ruralize for six months; perhaps _that_ may work a change. Resignation! what a miserable resource, and yet it is the only one left me. Do excuse my troubling you with my griefs, when you are already in sorrow yourself.

Stephen Breuning is here, and I see him daily, enjoying those recollections which his presence calls back to my mind. He is indeed grown an excellent fellow, as kind and true-hearted as I trust we all are. I have beautiful rooms just now, leading on to the Bastei (ramparts), and of infinite value to me, on account of my health. I believe I shall be able to prevail upon Breuning to come to me. You shall have your Antiochus, and plenty of my music, if you do not think they will put you to too much expense. Honestly speaking, I am truly pleased with your love of the art. Let me but know _how_, and I will send you all my works, which are now become pretty numerous, and daily increasing. I send you in exchange for my grand-father's picture, which I beg you will forward to me by coach, that of his grandson, your ever faithful Beethoven; it has appeared at Artaria's, who, together with many other publishers, solicited me to let them have it. I intend shortly to write to Stephen, for the purpose of lecturing him upon his obstinate mood. I will make his ears ring with our old friendship, and entreat him not to add vexation to your sufficiently saddened circ.u.mstances. I shall also write to the amiable Laura. I have never forgotten one of you, dear, kind friends, even when I was most silent; for, as to writing, why, that you know never was my forte--the dearest friends have not had letters from me for years. I live entirely in my music, and no sooner is one thing finished than I begin another--indeed, I now sometimes write three or four things at the same time. Pray let me hear from you oftener, and I will take care to find time for replying to your letters. Kind regards to all, including my dear Mme. v. Breuning; tell her I am still subject to the "raptus." As to K., I am not surprised at the change in her. Fortune's wheel is round, and does not always halt before the best and n.o.blest.

A word about Ries, to whom give my kind regards, and say that I shall further write to you respecting his son, although I believe Paris would be a better place than Vienna to make his fortune in. Vienna is so overstocked, that even those who have great merit stand a bad chance of succeeding. By the autumn or winter I shall be able to judge what I can do for him, as everybody then hastens back to town. Farewell, my faithful Wegeler. Be ever a.s.sured of the love and friendship of

Yours,

BEETHOVEN.

4.

BEETHOVEN TO WEGELER.

Vienna, Nov. 16, 1801.

My dearest Wegeler,

I am truly obliged for the new marks of your interest in my welfare, the more so as I feel myself unworthy of them. You wish to know how I am, what I am taking; and, much as I dislike conversing upon the subject at all, I would rather do so with you, than with any one else. Vering, for the last few months, has applied blisters to both my arms, consisting of a certain bark, known to you, as I suppose.[160] This is a most disagreeable remedy, as it deprives me of the free use of my arms for two or three days at a time, until the bark has drawn sufficiently, which occasions a good deal of pain. It is true, the ringing in my ears is somewhat less than it was, especially in my left ear, in which the disease began, but my hearing is by no means improved; indeed I am not sure but that the evil is increased. My health is improved, and the tepid bath always sets me up for eight or ten days. I take but little medicine, and have begun to use the herb-poultice as you prescribed.

Vering opposes the shower-bath. I am upon the whole much dissatisfied with him; he cares too little about his patients; were I not to call upon him sometimes, which indeed is but seldom, I should never see him.

What do you think of Schmidt?[161] I am not fond of changing, but I think Vering is too much of the pract.i.tioner to allow of his gathering fresh thoughts from books. Schmidt seems to differ widely from him in this respect, and might not be so careless. They tell me wonders of galvanism; what is your opinion of it? A medical man told me he had seen a deaf and dumb child recover its hearing (at Berlin), as well as a man who had been deaf for seven years. I hear that your friend Schmidt[162]

makes experiments of this nature.

I have begun to mix in society again, and thus to enjoy my existence rather more than I did; you cannot conceive how deserted and miserable a life I have led these two years, my deafness pursuing me like a spectre and scaring me from mankind: I must have appeared a perfect misanthrope, whilst I am so far from it. A dear and charming girl has wrought this beneficial change in me; she loves me as I do her, and this has brought back some happy moments, the first I have enjoyed these two years; it is the first time I feel that marriage could render me happy.[163] She is not, unfortunately, of my station in life, and at present I certainly _could_ not marry, for I must be tossed about the world first. Were it not for my hearing, I should have travelled over half the globe--that is what I long for. My greatest enjoyment is to pursue my art and produce in it. Do not think I should be happy with you all about me. In how far could that ameliorate my condition? Your very anxiety for me would be painfully visible in your looks, and would add to my misery. And that beautiful country of mine, what was my lot in it?--the hope of a happy futurity. This might now be realised if I were freed from my affliction.

Oh, freed from that, I should compa.s.s the world! I feel it, my youth is but beginning--have I not hitherto been a sickly creature? My physical powers have for some time been materially increasing, those of my mind likewise; I feel myself nearer and nearer the mark--I feel, but cannot describe it. This alone is the vital principle of your Beethoven. No rest for me, I know of none but sleep, and I grieve at having to sacrifice to it more time than I have hitherto deemed necessary. Take but one half of my disease from me, and I will return to you a matured and accomplished man, renewing the ties of our friendship, for you shall see me as happy as I _may_ be in this sublunary world--not as a sufferer, no, that would be more than I could bear. I will blunt the sword of fate, it shall not utterly destroy me. How beautiful it is to live a thousand lives in one--no, I am not made for a retired life, I feel it. You will write as soon as possible, will you? Take care Stephen make up his mind to take an appointment somewhere in the Teutonic Order.

His health will not endure the fatiguing life which he leads here; he is, moreover, so deserted that I do not see how he is to stand it. You know how we get on here; indeed I will not a.s.sert that society would diminish his exhaustion of nerve, and he is not to be prevailed upon to go anywhere. I had some music at my rooms some time since; friend Stephen did not appear. Do recommend him more coolness and self-possession; I have not succeeded in enforcing it; without them he cannot recover his health and happiness. Let me know in your next letter whether you don't mind my sending you a great quant.i.ty of my music; you can sell that which you do not want, and thus pay your postage having my likeness into the bargain. My kindest remembrances to Laura, to mamma, also to Christopher. You love me a little, eh? Be a.s.sured that I do love you, and remain ever your faithful friend,

BEETHOVEN.

5.

BEETHOVEN TO RIES.

Baden, July 24, 1804.

* * * * You will have been surprised at the affair with Breuning;[164]

believe me, my friend, that I had been wrought into this burst of pa.s.sion by many an unpleasant circ.u.mstance of an earlier date. I have the gift of concealing and restraining my irritability on many subjects; but if I happen to be touched at a time when I am more than usually susceptible of anger, I burst forth more violently than any one else.

Breuning has doubtless most excellent qualities, but he thinks himself utterly without faults, and yet is most open to those, for which he blames others. He has a littleness of mind, which I have held in contempt since my infancy. My powers of judgment had almost prophesied to me the course which matters would take with Breuning, for we differ too materially in our manner of thinking, acting, and feeling. I fancied late difficulties might have been overcome--experience has taught me otherwise, and now, no more friendship for me. I have met with two friends only in this world with whom I never had any altercation; but what men were they!--the one is dead, the other still alive. Although we have not heard from each other these six years, yet I know that I hold the first place in his heart, as he does in mine. The basis of friendship should be the greatest similarity in the minds and feelings of men. I only wish you would read my letter to Breuning and his to me.

No, he will never regain the place in my heart which he once held in it.

Whoever can attribute so mean a proceeding to his friend, and can himself act so basely towards him, is not worthy of my friendship. Do not forget the matter of my lodgings. Farewell. Do not tailor[165] too much; make my respects to the fairest of the fair, and send me a dozen needles. I should never have thought I could be as idle as I am here.

Should a fit of industry succeed I may accomplish something grand. Vale.