In the early days after Beethoven’s return to Vienna there is a continuation of the correspondence with Schott and Sons concerning the publication of the works which they had purchased, and before the end of December, probably in the third week, occurs the incident of the disappointing gift from the King of Prussia which makes its appearance in the record with something like a shout of “Good news!” from Schindler. Karl is busily occupied in preparations for his military career and upon him, until the arrival of Holz, appears to devolve the labor of writing and of carrying messages. The Conversation Book used by him on the 4th of December and the two following days bears a pathetic proof of Beethoven’s helplessness in the matter of figures. A page or so is filled with examples in simple multiplication—tables, without answers, of threes, fours, sevens, etc.—and the remark, “Then backwards.” Later Karl writes an explanation: “Multiplication is a simplified form of addition, wherefore examples are performed in the same manner. Each product is set under its proper place. If it consists of two digits, the left one is added to the product of the next. Here a small illustration: 2348 multiplied by 2.” It was thus that the great genius approaching his 56th birthday was employing his time while waiting in vain for the physicians who would not or could not answer his summons!
One joyful event brightened the solitary gloom of the sick-chamber in the middle of December. From Stumpff, of London, Beethoven received the 40 volumes of Dr. Arnold’s edition of the works of Handel which the donor had resolved to send Beethoven on his visit in 1824. Gerhard von Breuning pictures the joy of Beethoven at the reception of the gift, which he described as royal compared with that of the King of Prussia. One day the boy was asked to hand the big books from the pianoforte where they rested to the bed. “I have long wanted them,” said the composer to his faithful little friend, “for Handel is the greatest, the ablest composer that ever lived. I can still learn from him.” He leaned the books against the wall, turned over the pages, and ever and anon paused to break out into new expressions of praise. Von Breuning places these incidents in the middle of February, 1827, but his memory was plainly at fault. Schindler says the books arrived in December, and he is right, for Stumpff preserved the receipt for them, a letter and Reichardt’s “Taschenbuch für Reisende,” which is dated “December 14, 1826.” The gift was sent through the son of Stumpff’s friend Streicher.
Stephan von Breuning had called on Beethoven shortly after his arrival and the work of making a soldier of Karl was begun at once. It was expected that the preparations would occupy only a few days, but they dragged themselves through the month of December, owing partly, no doubt, to an illness which befell the Councillor. There were formal calls to be made upon the Lieut. Field Marshal and other officers, a physical examination to be undergone (it was most perfunctory), uniforms to be provided, the oath of service to be taken, and his monthly allowance to be fixed. All this was disposed of by the date of the first tapping, and it was expected that he would set out to join his regiment at Iglau before the Christmas holidays. There is no evidence of a change in the attitude towards each other of uncle and nephew. Some of Karl’s entries in the Conversation Books betray a testiness which is in marked contrast to Beethoven’s obvious solicitude for the young man’s position and comfort in his regiment; but the entries also indicate that illness had not sweetened the disposition of the sufferer. His outbursts of rage are the subject of warnings from physicians and friends. We have Schindler’s word for it that Beethoven became cheerful after the graceless youth’s departure for Iglau on January 2nd, and the testimony of the Conversation Book that the old year closed upon a quarrel between the two. Karl writes this greeting on New Year’s day: “I wish you a happy new year, and it grieves me that I should have been compelled already in the first night to give cause for displeasure. It might easily have been avoided, however, if you had but given the order to have my meal taken to my room.”
It is very possible that Beethoven’s spirits grew lighter after the departure of his nephew. The service which Karl gave his uncle seems frequently to have been given grudgingly and no doubt looked more ungracious than it may really have been, when accompanied by protests that he would not be found failing in duty and petulant requests that he be spared upbraidings and torments. To satisfy the singular mixture of affectionate solicitude and suspicion which filled Beethoven’s heart and mind would perhaps have taxed the philosophy of a wiser as well as gentler being than this young man, who, as Johann’s wife told the composer in Gneixendorf, had inherited the testy family temper. When open quarrels were no longer possible, it is likely that a greater contentment than had lodged there for a long time filled Beethoven’s soul. There is no record of the parting, and it is safe to assume that it passed off without emotional demonstration of any kind. But Beethoven’s thoughts went swiftly towards his self-assumed duty of providing for the young man’s future. The very next day he wrote the following letter to Dr. Bach:
Providing for the Nephew’s Future
Vienna, Wednesday January 3, 1827.
Before my death I declare my beloved nephew my sole and universal heir of all the property which I possess in which is included chiefly seven bank shares and whatever money may be on hand. If the laws prescribe a modification in this I beg of you as far as possible to turn it to his advantage. I appoint you his curator and beg his guardian, Court Councillor von Breuning, to take the place of a father to him. God preserve you. A thousand thanks for the love and friendship which you have shown me.
(L. S.) Ludwig van Beethoven
From Gerhard von Breuning’s account of the last days of Beethoven it would seem that this letter, though written on January 3rd, and then addressed to his legal adviser, was not signed until shortly before his death, and that at intervals in the interim it was the subject of consultations between the composer, Bach, Breuning, Schindler and Johann. Certain it is that before dispatching the letter to Bach, Beethoven submitted it to von Breuning for an opinion. Gerhard carried it to his father and brought back an answer which may have postponed its formal execution and delivery till two days before Beethoven died. Stephan von Breuning was not willing that Karl should enter upon unrestricted possession of the property immediately upon the death of his uncle. In his letter he pointed out that till now Karl had shown himself frivolous and that there was no knowing what turn his character might take as a result of the new life upon which he had entered. He therefore advised that for the young man’s own good and future safety he be prohibited from disposing of the capital of his inheritance, either during his lifetime or for a term of years after he had reached his majority, which under the Austrian law then prevailing was the age of 24 years. He argued that the income from the legacy would suffice for his maintenance for the time being and that to restrict him in the disposition of the capital would ensure him against the possible results of frivolous conduct before he should ripen into a man of solid parts. He recommended that Beethoven talk the matter over with Bach and wanted then to consult with both of them, as he feared that even a temporary restriction would not suffice to restrain Karl from making debts which in time would devour the inheritance when he should enter upon it. How Beethoven received this advice we shall learn later.
There is little that need be added to the story of the nephew. He was with his regiment at Iglau. Through Schindler, Beethoven wrote him a letter. It is lost, but apparently it contained an expression of dissatisfaction with Dr. Wawruch, for in the reply, which has been preserved, Karl says: “Concerning yourself I am rejoiced to know that you are in good hands. I, too, had felt some distrust of the treatment of your former (or, perhaps, present?) physician; I hope improvement will now follow.” He reports about his situation in the regiment, asks for money and the flute part of the Pianoforte Concerto in B-flat (Op. 19), which one of the officers of the regiment wished to play, and adds in a postscript: “Do not think that the little privations to which I am now subjected have made me dissatisfied with my lot. On the contrary, rest assured that I am living in contentment, and regret only that I am separated so far from you. In time, however, this will be different.” But communications from the young man are not many, and Schindler’s rebukes and complaints in the Conversation Books about his undutifulness are probably only a reflex of Beethoven’s moods and utterances. One cause of dissatisfaction was the fact that a letter to Smart had been sent to him for translation and was not promptly returned. But he acknowledges the receipt of money towards the end of February, and on March 4th he writes another letter, which has been preserved. He sends his thanks for a pair of boots, says the translation of the letter to Smart must have been received, and adds: