Suddenly, as if he intentionally wanted to call attention to something loftier, he asked if the Mozart monument at Vienna was finished? And Beethoven’s? We three Austrians looked rather embarrassed. “I remember Beethoven well,” continued Rossini after a pause, “although it is nearly half a century ago. On my visit to Vienna I hastened to look him up.”
“And he did not receive you, as Schindler and other biographers assure us.”
“On the contrary,” said Rossini, correcting me: “I had Carpani, the Italian poet with whom I had already called upon Salieri, introduce me, and he received me at once and very politely. True, the visit did not last very long, for conversation with Beethoven was nothing less than painful. His hearing was particularly bad on that day and in spite of my loudest shoutings he could not understand me; his little practice in Italian may have made conversation more difficult.”
This confirms what Rossini told Ferdinand Hiller in 1856:[65]
During my sojourn in Vienna I had myself introduced to him by old Calpani [sic]; but between his deafness and my ignorance of German, conversation was impossible. But I am glad that I saw him, at least.
Alleged Meeting of Beethoven and Schubert
Quite as inaccurate is a statement of Schindler’s touching a meeting between Schubert and Beethoven in this year. Schindler’s story is to the effect that Schubert, accompanied by Diabelli, went to Beethoven and handed him the variations for pianoforte, four hands, which he had dedicated to him; but that Schubert was so overwhelmed at the majestic appearance of Beethoven that his courage oozed away and he was scarcely able to write the answers to the questions which were put to him. At length, when Beethoven pointed out a trifling error in harmony, remarking that it was “not a mortal sin,” Schubert lost control of himself completely, regained his composure only after he had left the house, and never again had courage enough to appear in Beethoven’s presence. As opposed to this, Heinrich von Kreissle, Schubert’s biographer, adduces the testimony of Joseph Hüttenbrenner, a close friend of Schubert’s, who had it from the song composer himself that he had gone to Beethoven’s house with the variations, but the great man was not at home and the variations were left with the servant. He had neither seen Beethoven nor spoken with him, but learned with delight afterwards that Beethoven had been pleased with the variations and often played them with his nephew Karl. Now, had Schindler been an eyewitness of the scene which he describes, he would have mentioned the fact; but he was not yet living with Beethoven.
While in Baden, Beethoven began the work which was to call him back into public notice. This was the music for the opening of the Josephstadt Theatre, which the director of the theatre, Carl Friedrich Hensler, director also of the combined theatres of Pressburg and Baden, asked of him immediately after his arrival at the watering-place. Hensler (1761-1825) was a popular dramatist as well as manager and an old acquaintance of Beethoven’s, by whom he was greatly respected. He had bought the privilege of the Josephstadt Theatre in Vienna. Carl Meisl, who was a Commissioner of the Royal Imperial Navy, had written two festival pieces for the opening, which had been set down for October 3, 1822, the name-day of the Emperor. The first piece was a paraphrase of Kotzebue’s “Ruins of Athens,” written for the opening of the theatre in Pesth in 1812, for which Beethoven had composed the music. Meisl took Kotzebue’s text and made such alterations in it as were necessary to change “The Ruins of Athens” into “The Consecration of the House.” Nottebohm’s reprint in “Zweite Beethoveniana” (p. 385 et seq.) enables a comparison to be made with the piece as it left the hands of Meisl and the original. The new words did not always fit the music and caused Beethoven considerable concern. A choral dance: