The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume I

by Alexander Wheelock Thayer

In Berlin he (Beethoven) associated much with Himmel, of whom he said that he had a pretty talent, but no more; his pianoforte playing, he said, was elegant and pleasing, but he was not to be compared with Prince Louis Ferdinand. In his opinion he paid the latter a high compliment when once he said to him that his playing was not that of a king or prince but more like that of a thoroughly good pianoforte player. He fell out with Himmel in the following manner: One day when they were together Himmel begged Beethoven to improvise; which Beethoven did. Afterwards Beethoven insisted that Himmel do the same. The latter was weak enough to agree; but after he had played for quite a time Beethoven remarked: “Well, when are you going fairly to begin?” Himmel had flattered himself that he had already performed wonders; he jumped up and the men behaved ill towards each other. Beethoven said to me: “I thought that Himmel had been only preluding a bit.” Afterwards they were reconciled, indeed, but Himmel could never forgive or forget[78]. They also exchanged letters until Himmel played Beethoven a shabby trick. The latter always wanted to know the news from Berlin. This bored Himmel, who at last wrote that the greatest news from Berlin was that a lamp for the blind had been invented. Beethoven ran about with the news and all the world wanted to know how this was possible. Thereupon he wrote to Himmel that he had blundered in not giving more explicit information. The answer which he received, but which does not permit of communication, not only put an end to the correspondence but brought ridicule upon Beethoven, who was so inconsiderate as to show it then and there.

With Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch and Carl Friedrich Zelter he also made a friendly acquaintance, and twice at least attended meetings of the Singakademie, which then numbered about 90 voices. The first time, June 21st, says the “Geschichte der Singakademie”:

A chorale, the first three numbers of the mass and the first six of the 119th Psalm were sung for him. Hereupon he seated himself at the pianoforte and played an improvisation on the theme of the final fugue: “Meine Zunge rühmt im Wettgesang dein Lob.” The last numbers of “Davidiana” (a collection of versets by Fasch) formed the conclusion. No biographer has mentioned this visit or even his sojourn in Berlin. Nor does Fasch pay special attention to it; but the performance must have pleased, for it was repeated at the meeting on the 28th.

The performance of the Society must also have pleased Beethoven, and with good reason; for Fasch’s mass was in sixteen parts and the psalm and “Davidiana,” in part, in eight; and no such music was then to be heard elsewhere north of the Alps.

In 1810, Beethoven, speaking of his playing on that occasion, told Mme. von Arnim (then Elizabeth Brentano) that at the close his hearers did not applaud but came crowding around him weeping; and added, ironically, “that is not what we artists wish—we want applause!” Fasch’s simple record of Beethoven’s visit is this:

June 21, 1796. Mr. van Beethoven extemporized on the “Davidiana,” taking the fugue theme from Ps. 119, No. 16.... Mr. Beethoven, pianist from Vienna, was so accommodating as to permit us to hear an improvisation. . . . June 28, Mr. van Beethoven was again so obliging as to play an improvisation for us.

Early in July, the King left Berlin for the baths of Pyrmont, the nobility dispersed to their estates or to watering-places, and the city “was empty and silent.” Beethoven, therefore, could have had no inducement to prolong his stay; but the precise time of his departure is unknown. Schindler names Leipsic as one of the cities in which, during this tour, Beethoven “awakened interest and created a sensation by his pianoforte playing, and, particularly, by his brilliant improvisation”; but no allusion in any public journal of that or any subsequent period, not even the faintest tradition, has been discovered to confirm the evidently erroneous statements. Moreover, Rochlitz in his account of a visit to the composer in 1822 remarks, “I had not yet seen Beethoven”; and again, “It was only as a youth that he ... passed through (Leipsic).” So, until some new discovery be made, this must also find its place in the long list of Schindler’s mistakes.

Notwithstanding Wegeler’s statement (“Notizen,” 28) that he left Beethoven a member of the family of Prince Lichnowsky “in the middle of 1796,” it is as certain as circumstantial evidence can well make it that the Doctor and Christoph von Breuning had returned to Bonn before Beethoven reached Vienna again; but Stephan and Lenz were still there. The former obtained at this time an appointment in the Teutonic Order, which so many of his ancestors had served, and his name appears in the published “Calendars of the Order” from 1797 to 1803, both inclusive, as “Hofrathsassessor.” He then soon departed from Vienna to Mergentheim, whence he wrote (November 23rd) with other matters the following upon Beethoven to Wegeler and Christoph:

I do not know whether or not Lenz has written you anything about Beethoven; but take notice that I saw him in Vienna and that according to my mind, which Lenz has confirmed, he has become somewhat staider, or, perhaps I should say, has acquired more knowledge of humanity through travels (or was it because of the new ebullition of friendship on his arrival?) and a greater conviction of the scarceness and value of good friends. A hundred times, dear Wegeler, he wishes you here again, and regrets nothing so much as that he did not follow much of your advice. (“Notizen,” page 19.)

Except this notice of his bearing and demeanor, there is a complete hiatus in Beethoven’s history from his appearance in the Singakademie until the following November. The so-called Fischoff Manuscript has, it is true, a story of a “dangerous illness” which was caused by his own imprudence this summer; but as it is in date utterly irreconcilable with other known facts, it will receive its due consideration hereafter. The most plausible suggestion is that coming back, flushed with victory, with the success of his tour and delighted with the novelty of travelling at his ease, he made that excursion to Pressburg and Pesth of which afterwards Ries was informed and made record (“Notizen,” page 109), but of which no other account is known.