Beethoven by George Alexander Fischer (reading in the dark .TXT) 📕

always had a warm welcome for the one who had administered the iced punch, remembering no doubt its immediately alleviating and beneficial results, but Dr. Wawruch fared poorly at his hands, especially when he was in a bad humor. On more than one occasion when the latter appeared the patient turned his face to the wall with the remark, "Ach der Esel."

Everything possible was now done to add to his comfort. Two servants were engaged to attend him. His friends cheered him by their visits. Hümmel called, bringing his young pupil Ferdinand Hiller. Some of Schubert's songs were brought him, probably by Hüttenbrenner. They consisted of Die Junge Nonne, Der Taucher, the Ossian songs, Die Bürgschaft. Schindler states they awakened the master's surprise and delight, eliciting from him the remark, "Truly, Schubert has the divine fire."

Beethoven was so eager for work that he attempted composition again in the intervals of his illness, but his strength was not sufficient to enable him to go on with it. Hitherto his one resource in every difficulty had been his work. The injunction of Saint-Simon, to lead during the whole of the vigorous portion of manhood the most original and active life possible, had been perforce carried out by him. Now that his one resource, work, failed him, he was bereft. He sought to pass the time by reading, and began with Kenilworth in a German translation, but soon threw it down saying: "The man writes only for money."

The volatile Holz did not fail him in his need, but manifested his friendship by many kind acts. His former publishers the Haslingers, Tobias and Karl, as well as Diabelli, called occasionally. The Archduke at Olmütz could hardly have been expected to come, especially as a fatal termination was not for some time considered probable. We hear nothing of Czerny, of Schuppanzich, of Linke, or of Zmeskall, which to say the least, is singular. Schindler's omission of these names, however, has no particular significance; he wrote many years after the event, and forgot or omitted the mention of circumstances of greater importance than this. It is not like what we know of the character of Czerny, or Zmeskall, to neglect Beethoven in his extremity. The master's old friend, Stumpf, of London, sent him a splendid edition of Händel's works in forty volumes, with which he occupied himself a good deal. They afforded him much enjoyment.

Anxiety on account of money, so prevalent all through these latter years, was increased by his enforced abstinence from work. What he chiefly desired now was sufficient ready money to carry him through, so that he would not have to break into the little hoard put by for Karl many years before. At this juncture the Philharmonic Society of London sent him one hundred pounds, being an advance payment on account of a concert they intended giving for his benefit. The initiative in this matter was taken by Beethoven himself, and it is safe to say that nothing that was done for him during this period was so appreciated, or gave him so much pleasure, as this act of kindness from the Society. The money reached him about ten days after an operation had been performed on him for the relief of the dropsical accumulations incidental to his liver trouble. Four such operations had been found necessary during this illness. They were at best only palliative. His joy on receiving the letter and money from London was such that the wound, not yet healed, opened, and a great discharge followed. A letter of thanks was sent to the Society, dictated by the master, but he was too weak even to sign it.

Schindler relates that Beethoven on nearing middle-age, was wont to indulge himself in day-dreams of a prosperous future, in which he could have sufficient means to enable him to live in comfort, keep his carriage like brother Johann, and have leisure for the refinements of life. This illusion, maintained by most workers, no doubt brightened his prosaic, solitary life. Pity that he could not have realized it in some measure: after the heat and burden of the day, in which he had so well acquitted himself, it would seem fitting, had he had an evening of life such as was vouchsafed Wagner, with opportunity for completing his life-work in peace and contentment.

One result achieved by the master as a consequence of his visit to Gneixendorf would have afforded him great satisfaction could he have known it. The matter of making suitable provision for Karl in event of his own death had lain on his conscience for some time before this visit, as already stated. While there, he begged his brother Johann to make a will in Karl's favor, which eventually came to pass.

The army appointment, of which mention has been made, became an established fact early in December, and the young man soon after left Vienna to join his regiment. Beethoven never saw him again. He by this time concurred with his friends in the opinion that the discipline of military life might be beneficial to him, and was resigned to the separation.

The great C sharp minor Quartet is indelibly associated with Karl, through its dedication to Baron von Stutterheim, through whom the appointment came. The decision to dedicate this work to the Baron, was arrived at only two weeks before the master's death. The work had been for some time in the hands of the publishers, Messrs. Schott of Mayence. Beethoven, finally becoming aware that no more works could be produced by him, and wishing to reward the Baron in the only way possible, dictated an urgent letter to Messrs. Schott on the subject. "The Quartet," he said, "must be dedicated to Field-marshal von Stutterheim, to whom I am under great obligations. Should the first dedication by any possibility be already engraved, I beg of you, on every account, to make this alteration. I will gladly pay any extra expense connected with it."

The last Quartet, opus 135, is dedicated to Johann Wolfmayer, a merchant of Vienna with whom he had much friendly intercourse. Wolfmayer showed his interest in the master's work in many ways. It may be mentioned that he offered him a sum equal to several hundreds of dollars to carry out his project of writing a Requiem Mass. "Write to Stumpf and Smart," he said to Schindler a few days before his death, when already too weak to speak above a whisper. His consideration for others was paramount even in the face of approaching death.

Notwithstanding the hopeful tone which characterized the letters written during his last illness, there were times when he knew that he was making a losing fight. Already on January 3, a month after his return from Gneixendorf, he wrote a letter to his attorney, Dr. Bach, in the form of a will, in which as may be supposed, his nephew is his sole heir. No conditions were imposed on the young man, who, had the will remained in this form, might have squandered the entire amount. (The estate netted $5000). This was pointed out to Beethoven by his counsellor, Dr. Bach, and also Von Breuning, who urged on him the necessity of adding a codicil to the will, in which the principal would be tied up for life, leaving only the income available. This he resisted to within a few days before the end, but finally gave in, and, not without great difficulty, wrote with his own hand a codicil, consisting of but three lines, in which the income only was to be enjoyed by the nephew, the principal to revert to his natural or testamentary heirs, after Karl's death. Breuning, true to his sense of duty, not satisfied with having gained his point, endeavored, at the risk of antagonizing the master, to change the words "natural or testamentary heirs," to "legitimate heirs." Beethoven was obdurate on the point, however, saying, "the one term is as good as the other." Von Breuning, good faithful friend that he was, survived Beethoven but one year.

Schindler dwells on the perfect tranquillity of Beethoven in the face of approaching death. "Plaudite amici, comœdia finita est," he said on the day when the codicil was written. On the following day at noon, he received the last rites of the church. The event was no doubt a solemn one. Soon after, the death-struggle began, and continued without interruption for two days. Hüttenbrenner was a faithful attendant during these last days. His friend Schubert also called, at least once, and, it is said, was recognized by Beethoven, although he was unable to speak to him.

The nervous strain on his friends in witnessing this struggle between life and death, in which but the one issue was possible, must have been great. It was, no doubt, a relief to Schindler and Von Breuning to leave the master in Hüttenbrenner's charge on the afternoon of the 26th of March, and go to Wahring in order to secure a burial-place. While on this necessary errand, a terrific storm arose, which prevented their return until night. Meanwhile, Hüttenbrenner, left alone with the master, endeavored to ease his position by sustaining his head, holding it up with his right arm. His breathing had been growing perceptibly weaker, carrying the conviction that the end was near. The storm was of unusual severity, covering the glacis with snow and sleet. The situation of the building was such that it was exposed to the full fury of the tempest. No sign was given by the master that he was conscious of this commotion of the elements. With the subsidence of the storm at dusk, the watcher was startled by a flash of lightning, which illumined everything. This was succeeded by a terrific peal of thunder which penetrated even Beethoven's ears. Startled into consciousness by the unusual event, the dying man suddenly raised his head from Hüttenbrenner's embrace, threw out his right arm with the fist doubled, remained in this position a moment as if in defiance, and fell back dead.

The two friends returned some hours after all was over. The master died at a quarter before six o'clock on the evening of March 26, 1826. He was in his fifty-seventh year.

The funeral took place on March 29 at 3 P.M. from the church of the Minorites and was attended by many of the most prominent people of the city. Eight musicians bore the coffin from the house to the church, while thirty-two torch-bearers followed it, among the number being Czerny and Schubert. This was followed by a choir of sixteen male singers, and four trombones, which alternated in singing and playing. The music consisted of two equali composed by Beethoven many years before, arranged for this occasion by Seyfried, to the words of the Miserere and Amplius.

Notwithstanding the immense concourse of people assembled at the obsequies, estimated at twenty thousand, there was but one relative to occupy the position of mourner, and that was Johann.

On April 3, Mozart's Requiem was sung at the church of the Augustines, and shortly thereafter, Cherubini's Requiem was sung for him at the Karlskirche.

The magnificence of his funeral, when compared with his simple mode of life, calls to mind the great contrasts which he was always producing in his music. Equally great contrasts had always come up in his life. Living in the proudest most exclusive and bigoted monarchy in Europe, at a time when feudal authority had not yet been entirely abolished, he held himself to be as good or better than Emperor or Cardinal. On receiving a request one morning from the Empress of Austria to call on her, he sent back word that he would be busy all that day, but would endeavor to call on the following day. There is no record of his having gone at all. His unjustifiable conduct toward the Imperial family, while at Töplitz with Goethe, has been touched on in a previous chapter. Frimmel states that something similar occurred