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Beethoven’s Introduction to Mozart

But enough of conjecture. The oft-repeated anecdote of Beethoven’s introduction to Mozart is stripped by Prof. Jahn of Seyfried’s superlatives and related in these terms:

Beethoven, who as a youth of great promise came to Vienna in 1786 (?)[35], but was obliged to return to Bonn after a brief sojourn, was taken to Mozart and at that musician’s request played something for him which he, taking it for granted that it was a show-piece prepared for the occasion, praised in a rather cool manner. Beethoven observing this, begged Mozart to give him a theme for improvization. He always played admirably when excited and now he was inspired, too, by the presence of the master whom he reverenced greatly; he played in such a style that Mozart, whose attention and interest grew more and more, finally went silently to some friends who were sitting in an adjoining room, and said, vivaciously, “Keep your eyes on him; some day he will give the world something to talk about.”

Ries (“Notizen,” p. 86) merely says: “During his visit to Vienna he received some instruction from Mozart, but the latter, as Beethoven lamented, never played for him.” Contrary to the conjecture above mentioned as to Johann van Beethoven’s object in sending his son to Vienna, it seems, from the connection in which Ries introduces this remark, that the instruction given by Mozart to the youth was confined to composition. The lessons given were few—a fact which accounts for the circumstance that no member of Mozart’s family in after years, when Beethoven had become world-renowned, has spoken of them.

If it be considered that poor Mozart lost his beloved father on May 28, 1787, and that his mind was then fully occupied with his new operatic subject, “Don Giovanni,” it will not be thought strange that he did not exhibit his powers as a pianist to a youth just beginning with him a course of study in composition, especially as the pupil, in his eyes, was a little, undersized boy of 14—as there is every reason to believe. That pupil’s power of handling a theme, since Mozart probably knew nothing of his five years’ practice at the organ and in the theatre, may well have surprised him; but in execution as a pianist he probably stood far, far below the master when at the same age, below the little Hummel (at that very time an inmate of Mozart’s family), and certainly below Cesarius Scheidl (forgotten name!) aged ten, who had played a pianoforte concerto between the parts of an oratorio no longer ago than the preceding 22nd of December in the grand concert of the “Society of Musicians.” Had not Beethoven’s visit been so abruptly, unexpectedly and sorrowfully brought to an end, he would, doubtless, have had nothing to regret on the score of his master’s playing.

In some written talks to Beethoven in the years of his deafness, still preserved, are found two allusions at least made by his nephew to this personal acquaintance with Mozart. In the first case the words are these: “You knew Mozart; where did you see him?” In the other, two or three years later: “Was Mozart a good pianoforte player? It was then still in its infancy.” Of course Beethoven’s replies are wanting; and herewith is exhausted all that, during the researches for this work, has been found relating to his first visit in Vienna. The Vienna newspapers of the time contained notices of the “wonder-children” Hummel and Scheidl, but none whatever of Beethoven.

Acquaintances in Augsburg

That the youth in passing through Augsburg must have become acquainted with the pianoforte-maker Stein and his family is self-evident. There is something in a conversation-book which seems to prove this, and also to add evidence to the falsification of his age. It is this: in the spring of 1824 Andreas Streicher and his wife—the same Stein’s “Mädl”—whose appearance at the pianoforte when a child of eight and a half years is so piquantly described by Mozart, called upon Beethoven on their way from Vienna into the country. A few sentences of the conversation, written in the hand of the composer’s nephew, are preserved. The topic for a time is the packing of movables and Beethoven’s removal into country lodgings for the summer; and at length they come upon the instruments manufactured by Streicher; after which Carl writes: “Frau von Streicher says that she is delighted that at 14 years of age you saw the instruments made by her father and now see those of her son.” True, it may be said that this refers to Beethoven’s knowledge of the Stein “Hammerclaviere” then in Bonn; but to any one thoroughly conversant with the subject these words are, like Iago’s “trifles light as air,” confirmation strong of the other view. His introduction to the family of the advocate Dr. Schaden in Augsburg, is certain. Reichardt was in that city in 1790 and wrote of Frau Nanette von Schaden as being of all the women he knew, those of Paris not excepted, far and away the greatest pianoforte player, not excelled perhaps, by any virtuoso in skill and certainty; also a singer with much expression and excellent declamation—“in every respect an amiable and interesting woman.” The earliest discovered letter of Beethoven to Schaden, and dated Bonn, September 15, 1787, proves the friendship of the Schadens for him and fully explains the causes of his sudden departure from Vienna and the abrupt termination of his studies with Mozart.

I can easily imagine what you must think of me, and I can not deny that you have good grounds for an unfavorable opinion. I shall not, however, attempt to justify myself, until I have explained to you the reasons why I hope my apologies will be accepted. I must tell you that from the time I left Augsburg my cheerfulness as well as my health began to decline; the nearer I came to my native city the more frequent were the letters from my father urging me to travel with all possible speed, as my mother was not in a favorable state of health. I therefore hurried forward as fast as I could, although myself far from well. My longing once more to see my dying mother overcame every obstacle and assisted me in surmounting the greatest difficulties. I found my mother still alive but in the most deplorable state; her disease was consumption, and about seven weeks ago, after much pain and suffering, she died. She was such a kind, loving mother to me, and my best friend. Ah, who was happier than I when I could still utter the sweet name, mother, and it was heard? And to whom can I now speak it? Only to the silent image resembling her evoked by the power of the imagination. I have passed very few pleasant hours since my arrival here, having during the whole time been suffering from asthma, which may, I fear, eventually develop into consumption; to this is added melancholy—almost as great an evil as my malady itself. Imagine yourself in my place, and then I shall hope to receive your forgiveness for my long silence. You showed me extreme kindness and friendship by lending me three Carolins in Augsburg, but I must entreat your indulgence for a time. My journey cost me a great deal, and I have not the smallest hopes of earning anything here. Fate is not propitious to me in Bonn.

Pardon my detaining you so long with my chatter; it was necessary for my justification.

I do entreat you not to deprive me of your valuable friendship; nothing do I wish so much as in some degree to become worthy of your regard.

I am, with the highest respect

Your most obedient servant and friend,

L. v. Beethoven,

Court Organist to the Elector of Cologne.[36]

Death of Beethoven’s Mother

The Bonn “Intelligenzblatt” supplies a pendant to this sad letter:—“1787, July 17. Died, Maria Magdalena Koverich (sic), named van Beethoven, aged 49 years.”[37] When Ferdinand Ries, some thirteen years later, presented his father’s letter of introduction to Beethoven in Vienna, the latter “read the letter through” and said: “I cannot answer your father just now; but do you write to him that I have not forgotten how my mother died. He will be satisfied with that.” “Later,” adds Ries, “I learned that, the family being greatly in need, my father had been helpful to him on this occasion in every way.”

A petition of Johann van Beethoven, offered before the death of his wife, describing his pitiable condition and asking aid from the Elector, has not been discovered; but the substance of it is found in a volume of “Geheime Staats-Protocolle” for 1787 in form following:

Your Elec. Highness has taken possession of this petition.

July 24, 1787

Court Musician makes obedient representation that he has got into a very unfortunate state because of the long-continued sickness of his wife and has already been compelled to sell a portion of his effects and pawn others and that he no longer knows what to do for his sick wife and many children. He prays for the benefaction of an advance of 100 rthlr. on his salary.

No record is found in the Düsseldorf archives of any grant of aid to the distressed family; hence, so far as now appears, the only successful appeal for assistance was made to Franz Ries, then a young man of 32 years, who generously aided in “every way” his unfortunate colleague. Where then was the Breuning family? Where Graf Waldstein? To these questions the reply is that Beethoven was still unknown to them—a reply which involves the utter rejection of the chronology adopted by Dr. Wegeler, in his “Notizen,” of that part of the composer’s life. This mistake, if indeed it prove to be such, is one which has been adopted without hesitation by all who have written upon the subject. The reader here, for the first time, finds Wegeler’s account of Beethoven’s higher intellectual development and his introduction into a more refined social circle placed after, instead of before, the visit to Vienna; and his introduction to the Breunings and Waldstein dated at the time when the youth was developing into the man, and not at a point upon the confines of childhood and youth.

This demands some explanation.

Dr. Wegeler’s Chronology Corrected

The history of Beethoven’s Bonn life would be so sadly imperfect without the “Notizen” of Dr. Wegeler, which bear in every line such an impress of perfect candor and honesty, that they can be read only with feelings of gratefullest remembrance of their author and with fullest confidence in their authenticity. But no more in his case than in others can the reminiscences of an aged man be taken as conclusive evidence in regard to facts and occurrences of years long since past, when opposed to contemporary records, or involving confusion of dates. Some slight lapse of memory, misapprehension, or unlucky adoption of another’s mistake, may lead astray and be the abundant source of error. Still, it is only with great diffidence and extreme caution that one can undertake to correct an original authority so trustworthy as Dr. Wegeler. Such corrections must be made, however; for only by this can many a difficulty be removed. An error in the Doctor’s chronology might easily be occasioned by the long accepted false date of Beethoven’s birth, insensibly influencing his recollections; and certainly when Dr. Wegeler, Madame von Breuning and Franz Ries, all alike venerable in years as in character, sit together discussing in 1837–8 occurrences of 1785–8, with nothing to aid their memories or control their reminiscences but an old Court Calendar or two, they may well to some extent have confounded times and seasons in the vague and misty distance of so many years; the more easily because the error is one of but two or three years at most. Bearing upon the point in question is the fact that Frau Karth—who distinctly remembers the death of Madame van Beethoven—has no recollections of the young Breunings and Waldstein until after that event.

Some words of Dr. Wegeler in an unprinted letter to Beethoven (1825): “inasmuch as the house of my mother-in-law was more your domicile than your own, especially after you lost your noble mother,” seem to favor the usually accepted chronology: but if Beethoven was thus almost a member of the Breuning family as early as 1785 or 1786, how can the tone of the letter to Dr. Schaden be explained? Or how account for the fact, that, when he reached Bonn again and found his mother dying, and his father “in a very unfortunate state” and “compelled to sell a portion of his effects and pawn others and knew not what to do,” it was to Franz Ries he turned for aid? The good Doctor is certainly mistaken as to the time when Beethoven found Mæcenases in the Elector and Waldstein; why not equally so in relation to the Breuning family?

If, now, his own account of his intimacy with the young musician—given in the preface to the “Notizen”—be examined, it will be found to strengthen what has just been said: “Born in Bonn in 1765, I became acquainted in 1782 with the twelve years old lad, who, however, was already known as an author, and lived in most intimate association with him uninterruptedly until September, 1787” (and still he could forget that friend’s absence in Vienna only a few months before), “when, to finish my medical studies, I visited the Vienna schools and institutions. After my return in October, 1789, we continued to live together in an equally cordial association until Beethoven’s later departure for Vienna towards the close of 1792, whither I also emigrated in October, 1794.”

For more than two years, then, and just at this period, Dr. Wegeler was not in Bonn. Let still another circumstance be noted: Nothing has been discovered, either in the “Notizen” or elsewhere, which necessarily implies that Wegeler himself intimately knew the Breunings until after his return from Vienna in 1789; moreover, in those days, when the distinctions of rank were so strongly marked, it is, to say the least, exceedingly improbable, that the son of an immigrant Alsatian shoemaker should have obtained entrée upon the supposed terms of intimacy in a household in which the oldest child was some six years younger than himself, and which belonged to the highest social, if not titled rank, until he by the force of his talents, culture, and high character, had risen to its level. That, after so rising, the obscurity of his birth was forgotten and the only daughter became his wife, is alike honorable to both parties. It is unnecessary to pursue the point farther; the reader, having his attention drawn to it, will observe for himself the many less prominent, but strongly corroborating circumstances of the narrative, which confirm the chronology adopted in it. At all events it must stand until new and decisive facts against it be found.[38]

A Year of Sadness and Gloom

“My journey cost me a great deal, and I have not the smallest hope of earning anything here. Fate is not propitious to me in Bonn.” In poverty, ill, melancholy, despondent, motherless, ashamed of and depressed by his father’s ever increasing moral infirmity, the boy, prematurely old from the circumstances in which he had been placed since his eleventh year, had yet to bear another “sling and arrow of outrageous fortune.” The little sister, now a year and a half old—but here is the notice from the “Intelligenzblatt”:—“Died, November 25, Margareth, daughter of the Court Musician Johann van Beethoven, aged one year.” And so faded the last hope that the passionate tenderness of Beethoven’s nature might find scope in the purest of all relations between the sexes—that of brother and sister.

Thus, in sadness and gloom, Beethoven’s seventeenth year ended.