Conception of the Mass in D
Schindler also places this letter in 1818, and is doubtless correct in so doing, for its tone and contents show that it was not designed as an official communication to the Society, whose minutes show that such a communication was not received until June 15, 1819. In the interim, no doubt, some negotiations were in progress between Beethoven and Hauschka, for the former had refrained from mentioning the matter of remuneration. Some understanding on this point must have been reached, however, for, if Pohl is correct, Beethoven was paid an advance sum of 400 florins on August 18, 1819. Nothing came of the matter, as we shall see later. In this year, however, there came to Beethoven an incitation of a different nature and one productive of lasting and magnificent results. About the middle of 1818, as Schindler relates, it became known as a settled fact that Archduke Rudolph had been appointed Archbishop of Olmütz. March 20th, 1820, was fixed as the day of his installation. Without bidding, invitation or summons of any kind Beethoven “resolved to compose a mass for the solemnity, thus turning again after the lapse of many years to that branch of his art, toward which, after the symphonic—as he himself often said—he felt himself most drawn. This resolution shows that his outburst against the Archduke[188] was merely a passing cloud, even if we did not know that the master never missed an opportunity to disclose his affection for his august pupil. I saw the score begun late in the Autumn of 1818, after the gigantic Sonata in B-flat major, Op. 106, had just been finished.” Though there is no reason for questioning the rest of Schindler’s statement, the concluding observation is probably incorrect. It may be accepted, inasmuch as the Credo of the mass was already far advanced in 1819, that the Kyrie, at least, perhaps the Gloria, as well, was begun in 1818. The two great works which now filled the mind of Beethoven, which he wrote, indeed, with his heart’s blood, were not only dedicated to the Archduke, but were designed for him from the beginning—facts which may be cited as proof that despite his petulant outbursts against his pupil and patron he was after all sincerely devoted to him in his innermost soul.
The same summer saw the beginning of the most widely distributed portrait of Beethoven. At the instance of his uncle, Baron von Skrbensky, a young painter named August von Klöber (born at Breslau in 1793), who was continuing his artistic studies in Vienna, undertook to paint a portrait of the composer. His own account of his acquaintance with Beethoven and the incidents connected with the painting of the portrait (or rather with the original sketch) were published in the “Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung,” of 1864 (p. 324). From it we learn that the artist was introduced to Beethoven by a letter written by Dont.[189] He visited Beethoven at Mödling, after receiving permission to make a drawing of him and found him giving a lesson to his nephew on the Broadwood pianoforte. This fact fixes the date of the picture. Though the artist found it impossible to make himself understood unless he wrote his words or spoke them into an ear-trumpet, Beethoven corrected the errors in the lad’s playing, compelled him to repeat passages apparently without difficulty. He grew uneasy after Klöber had worked about three-quarters of an hour and the latter, heeding the advice given by Dont, suspended his work and asked permission to come again on the morrow, since he was living in Mödling. “Then we can meet often,” said Beethoven, “because I do not like to sit long. You must take a good look at Mödling, for it is very beautiful here, and, as an artist, you must be a lover of nature.” Klöber met him often in his promenades and saw him suspend his work at intervals, stand as if listening and make notes on music paper which he carried about with him. When Beethoven saw the picture he was pleased with the treatment of the hair; the artists had hitherto always made him look too well groomed. Klöber’s description of the composer as he saw him was this:
Beethoven’s residence in Mödling was extremely simple as, indeed, was his whole nature; his garments consisted of a light-blue frockcoat with yellow buttons, white waistcoat and necktie, as was the fashion at the time, but everything negligée. His complexion was healthy, the skin somewhat pockmarked, his hair was of the color of slightly bluish steel as it was already turning from black to gray. His eyes were bluish-gray and very animated—when his hair was tossed by the wind there was something Ossianic-demoniac about him. In friendly converse, however, his expression became good-natured and gentle, particularly when the conversation pleased him. Every mood of his soul found powerful expression instantly in his features.
Klöber’s original painting has disappeared. It was a full-length portrait with a bit of Mödling landscape as a background. The nephew Karl was included, reposing under a tree. The composer was depicted with note-book and pencil. The head only was reproduced in a lithograph in Klöber’s atelier, and has been widely copied.
A Mother’s Struggle for Her Child
We now reach an incident in the story of Beethoven’s life concerning which much has been written from the biased and frequently erroneous, because uninformed or ill-informed, point of view adopted by Schindler and which it becomes a duty to rectify not only so that the picture of Beethoven as he was may be kept true, but that the better motives and impulses which prompted the woman whom he so cordially and no doubt justly detested be placed in their proper light also. There is nothing in the narrative which brings reproach upon Beethoven so far as his high sense of duty and disinterested affection for his nephew is concerned—an affection which was as little weakened by the self-sacrifice which it entailed as it was balked by the conduct of his ward and the frequently unwarranted means employed by his mother to acquire possession of the lad and the right to superintend his physical, mental and moral training; but the rights of a woman and the honor which a world has always accorded to the strongest, noblest, divinest instinct of woman—maternal love—were also at stake. The mother of Karl, though she had been convicted and punished for adultery at an earlier period, and though she might not have proved a safe mentor for her son, was yet a mother, his mother. That fact Beethoven was willing, in the long letter to Madame Streicher in which he set forth the wicked acts of his servants, to recognize as palliating the conduct of the boy; but he could not bring himself to recognize that it might also palliate if it did not justify the steps which his harshness compelled a mother to take to gratify the need implanted in her by nature. Johanna van Beethoven is at least entitled to the same hearing at the bar of posterity that she received in the tribunals of her day, and it is the duty of Beethoven’s biographer to strip the story of the quarrel between her and her brother-in-law of the romantic excrescences which many writers have fastened upon it. In this narrative the truth will be told, perhaps for the first time, as it is disclosed by the documents, the evidence and the judicial decrees in the case. To set forth these documents in full in the body of the text would call for the sacrifice of much space and sadly interrupt the story; what is essential in them will be given literally, or in outline, whenever it becomes necessary.[190]
After his dismissal from the class of the parish priest at Mödling, Karl van Beethoven was placed in the hands of a private tutor to be prepared for admission to one of the public schools of Vienna—no doubt that known as the Academic Gymnasium. To enter this school the boy had to pass an examination, and for this purpose Beethoven brought him to Vienna about the middle of August. Madame van Beethoven was now determined to wrest from her brother-in-law the authority, which was his as sole guardian, to keep the boy in his care and to direct his training. She took to her aid Jacob Hotschevar, a Hofconcipist (clerk or scrivener in the government service), and petitioned the Landrecht of Lower Austria to take from Beethoven the authority to direct the future training of his ward. The Landrecht was a tribunal with jurisdiction in litigations and other matters affecting the nobility. Acting on the assumption that the Dutch “van,” like the German “von,” was a badge of noble birth, it had listened to Beethoven’s plea and appointed him sole guardian of his nephew, removing the widow from the joint guardianship directed in the will of the boy’s father on the score of her immorality, as we already know. The proceedings were begun in September and were dismissed, as the records show, on the 18th of that month. Three days later, that is, on September 21, she applied to the court again, this time for permission to place her son in the Royal Imperial Convict, where he would have board, lodging and instruction. She and Beethoven as “co-guardian” were commanded to appear in court on September 23, and the latter was directed to bring the report of the lad’s examination with him. There was a postponement of the hearing till September 30, and on October 3d the widow’s application was rejected. Thus far victory had gone to Beethoven.
The postponement of the hearing was had in great likelihood to enable Beethoven to change his residence from Mödling to the city. At any rate, Karl is a public school scholar on November 6th, as Fanny Giannatasio records in her diary on that day together with the fact that her father had met Beethoven, who had shortly before returned from the country. That the boy was in the third grammar class and remained there during the months of November and December, receiving also instruction in pianoforte playing, French and drawing from a private teacher, is known from the court proceedings which were held later. The lad made good progress in his studies, all seemed well and something of the old cordial relations seemed again to be established between Beethoven and the Giannatasios. They provided him with a housekeeper and on one day in November he spent three hours with the family. Fanny writes:
One cannot be in his company without being impressed with his admirable character, his deep sense of what is good and noble. If Karl would but recompense him for the many sacrifices which he makes for his sake! My hopes are intermingled with anxious doubts. He will probably make a journey to London this Spring. It might be advantageous to him financially in many ways.