It is also certain that Schindler was not as well informed as he ought to have been in the premises and that his memory often left him in the lurch, as we have frequently seen already and shall see again. Not exact knowledge but an amiable bias in favor of his hero speaks out of his recital. It is scarcely conceivable that Beethoven should have cherished the thought that possibly he was of noble birth or that he seriously encouraged such a belief among his exalted friends.

The nephew’s stay at Giannatasio’s was not of long duration and the signs of an imminent disruption of a beautiful and profitable friendship soon showed themselves, though for the nonce amiable relations between Beethoven and the Giannatasio family were continued. Yet Fanny saw her lovely illusions melting away. It had been agreed that Karl should not associate with the other pupils at the institute. Willing, perhaps desirous at first, that such an arrangement should be made, it seems that Beethoven felt his amour propre hurt by it as soon as the first fit of resentment against the lad gave way before one of his tender moods; now there ensued one of the old fits of moroseness, dissatisfaction and suspicion. He wrote to Giannatasio that Karl’s room should be better heated—that he had never had frostbitten hands and feet when living with him;[192] moreover, too much importance was being attached to his act, and the consequences to the delinquent were being carried too far. In her diary under date December 14, Fanny deplores that Beethoven’s moodiness, and weakness for the lad, had taken possession of him again and induced him to believe “the liar” rather than his tried friends; she concludes with the lamentation that it will never be possible to gain Beethoven’s entire confidence; she has grievous forebodings as to the outcome.

Work upon Three Masterpieces

Let the rest of the year’s history be devoted to Beethoven’s creative work. Considering the revival of interest and desire on the part of the composer, the net result, measured by finished products, was not as large as might have been expected. Two explanations for this circumstances may be offered: the first lies in his domestic miseries and the frame of mind in which they kept him for long stretches at a time—that is obvious; the second may be read in his compositions. He was growing more and more prone to reflection, to moody speculation; his mental processes, if not slower than before, were more protracted, and also more profound, and they were occupied with works of tremendous magnitude. The year produced sketches and partial developments of the Sonata in B-flat, the Symphony in D minor and the great Mass in D. The Sonata, so two sketchbooks carefully analyzed by Nottebohm show, was begun in 1817, and occupied much of the composer’s time during the summer of 1818, notes showing that he worked upon it in his walks about Mödling and in the Brühl valley. Notes of an announcement of a sale of carriages and of a house for rent, taken from a Vienna newspaper (probably in some inn), show that his thoughts were on the London visit and another of his frequent changes of residence. In April the Sonata was so far advanced that he could write to Archduke Rudolph that on his name-day (April 17) he had written out the first two movements in a fair copy, but this does not necessarily mean that the pieces had received their definitive shape. Among the sketches for the last movement there is an outline for a pianoforte piece in B-flat which, according to an inscription upon the autograph, was composed on the afternoon of August 14.[193] Plainly he was already at work on the finale before the end of 1818, and there is no reason for questioning Schindler’s correctness when he says that the Sonata was finished late in the fall when he took up the “Missa Solemnis.” Czerny played it in Beethoven’s presence in the spring of 1819, and it was in London ready for the engraver in April of that year.

Nottebohm, believing that the letter in which Beethoven informed the Archduke that he had written out the first two movements on his name-day could not refer to April 17, 1818, placed both incident and letter in the year following.[194] But, as has been said, it does not at all follow from Beethoven’s remark that the two movements were in a finished state;[195] the reference may have gone only to the first elaboration of the sketches. The “latest happening” to the Archduke was, probably, his elevation to the archbishopric of Olmütz, which occurred on June 4, 1819; but this was merely the formal execution of a purpose which had long been known in anticipation. Nottebohm’s contention for the name-day of 1819, is untenable for the reason that on April 17 of that year the Sonata had been so long in London that, as Ries says, it was already engraved when he received a note dated April 16, 1819, giving metronomic indications for all the movements and prefixing the Adagio with its present first measure.[196] This note must have been preceded by the one erroneously dated April 30; erroneously, because it promises the metronome marks; and this letter again by a still earlier one, mentioning the Sonata as ready for publication. This letter, which Ries does not even mention, is as follows:[197]

Dear Ries:

I am just recovering from a severe attack and am going into the country—I wish you would try to dispose of the following 2 works, a grand solo sonata for pianoforte and a pianoforte sonata which I have myself arranged for 2 violins, 2 violas, 1 violoncello, to a publisher in London. It ought to be easy for you to get 50 ducats in gold for the two works, the publisher would only have to announce at what time he intended to publish the two works and I could publish them here at the same time, which would yield me more than if I published them here only. I might also publish a new Trio for pianoforte, violin and violoncello, if you were to find a publisher for it.[198] I have never done anything unlawful and you can take up this matter in London without injury to your honor or mine. The publisher on receiving the works is to inform me when he intends to publish them and then they shall appear here. Pardon me if I am giving you trouble; my condition is such that I am obliged to turn everywhere to make a pitiful livelihood—Potter says that Chaphell in Bond Street is one of the best publishers; I leave everything to you only begging you to answer as soon as possible so that the works may not lie idle on my hands. I beg of Neate not to make known the many works of mine which he carried with him until I myself come to London which I hope surely to do next winter—I must unless I wish to become a beggar here. Say all things beautiful to the Phil. Society—I shall soon write you about various things and beg you again to answer soon. As ever your true friend

Beethoven.

Many lovely greetings to your lovely wife.