Beethoven’s domestic affairs continued to plague him. While at Hetzendorf he had the services of a housekeeper whom he described as “the swift-sailing frigate” Frau Schnaps, in letters to Schindler. He has no end of trouble about his town lodging in the Kothgasse where Schindler was living, and must needs take time to write long letters to his factotum on the subject. Here is one sent from Hetzendorf on July 2:
The continued brutality of the landlord, from the beginning as long as I have been in the house, calls for the help of the R. I. Police. Go to them direct. As regards the storm-window, the housekeeper was ordered to look after it and particularly after the recent severe rain-storm to see if it was necessary to prevent rain from entering the room; but she found that it had neither rained in nor could rain in. Believing this, I put on the lock so that the brutal fellow could not open my room in my absence as he threatened to do. Tell them further how he behaved towards you and that he put up the bill without notice, which he has no right to do before St. James’s day.—He has also refused to give me a receipt from St. George’s to St. James’ as this paper shows because of the demand that I pay a charge for lighting of which I knew nothing. This abominable lodging without a stove-flue and with the most wretched sort of main chimney has cost me at least 259 florins W. W. for extra expenses above the rent in order to make it habitable while I was there in the winter. It was an intentional cheat, inasmuch as I never saw the lodgings in the first storey but only in the second, for which reason many objectionable things remained unknown to me. I can not comprehend how it is possible that so shameful a chimney, ruinous to human health, can be tolerated by the government. You remember how the walls of your room looked because of smoke, how much it cost to get rid of some but not all of the nuisance. The chief thing now is that he be commanded to take down the notice and to give me the receipt for the rent paid at any rate. I never had that wretched lighting, but had other large expenses in order to make life endurable in this lodging. My sore eyes can not yet stand the town air, otherwise I would myself go to the imperial police.
Schindler obeyed instructions; the police director, Ungermann, sent his compliments to Beethoven, told him that his wishes were all granted in advance but advised him to pay the 6 florins for lighting to prevent a scoundrelly landlord from having any kind of hold upon him—and Schindler got well scolded for his pains! How could he accept something-or-other from such a churl accompanied by a threat? Where was his judgment? Where he always kept it, of course! The bill came down, but Beethoven did not keep the lodging.
Beethoven’s nephew Karl pursued his studies at Blöchlinger’s Institute till in August and then spent his vacation with his uncle in Baden. He made himself useful as amanuensis and otherwise, and his words are occasionally found among the notes of conversation. His mother remains in the background for the time being, which is providential, for Beethoven has trouble enough with his other delectable sister-in-law, the wife of Johann, whose conduct reaches the extreme of reprehensibleness in the summer of 1823, during a spell of sickness which threw her husband on his back. The woman chose this time to receive her lover in her house and to make a shameless public parade of her moral laxness. The step-daughter was no less neglectful of her filial duties. Accounts of his sister-in-law’s misconduct reached Beethoven’s ears from various quarters and he was frank in his denunciation of her to his brother and only a little more plain-spoken than Schindler, who was asked by Beethoven to lay the matter before the police, but managed to postpone that step for the time being.[95]
Autographed Shutters in Demand
Meanwhile Beethoven was hard at work on the Ninth Symphony. It was so ever-present with him that there was neither paradox nor hyperbole in his words: “I am never alone when I am alone.” He had much to irritate him while sketches and drafts of the symphony were piling up before him in August, and finally, if Schindler is to be believed, he could no longer endure the obsequious bows with which his landlord, Baron Pronay, always greeted him, and resolved to abandon the pretty villa at Hetzendorf and go to Baden. He may have formed the plan earlier in the year—probably had—but the baron’s excessive politeness helped to turn his departure into something like a bolt. He went to Baden on a house-hunting expedition with Schindler, and returning, sent his “swift-sailing frigate” to Schindler with a billet commanding him to be up and off at 5 o’clock in the morning “presto prestissimo.” He knew only one lodging in Baden suited to his requirements—the one which he had occupied in 1822—but the owner refused to let him have it again. This owner was a locksmith. To him Schindler was sent. In the name of his master he made all manner of humble promises concerning more orderly conduct and consideration for the other tenants, but the plea was rejected. A second appeal was made and now the houseowner relented, but made it a condition that Beethoven replace the window-shutters which had been removed. Beethoven was the more willing to do this, since he thought it necessary for the sake of his eyes. The landlord had not divulged the reason for his demand. Beethoven was in the habit of scrawling all kinds of memoranda on his shutters in leadpencil—accounts, musical themes, etc. A family from North Germany had noticed this in the previous year and on Beethoven’s departure had bought one of the shutters as a curiosity. The thrifty locksmith had an eye for business and disposed of the remaining shutters to other summer visitors.
Beethoven had arrived in Baden on August 13 with the help of Schindler, towards whom he was filled with as much gratitude as can be read in the following remarks from two letters to his nephew dated August 16 and 23:
My ruined belly must be restored by medicine and diet, and this I owe to the faithful messenger! You can imagine how I am racing about, for only to-day did I really begin my service to the muses; I must, though that is not noticeable, for the baths invite me at least to the enjoyment of beautiful nature, but nous sommes trop pauvre et il faut écrire ou de n’avoir pas de quoi.
He (Schindler) was with me only a day here to take a lodging, as you know; slept in Hetzendorf, and as he said, went back to Josephstadt in the morning. Do not get to gossipping against him. It might work him injury, and is he not already sufficiently punished? Being what he is, it is necessary plainly to tell him the truth, for his evil character which is prone to trickery needs to be handled seriously.
Beethoven’s unamiable mood, which finds copious expression in abuse of Schindler at this juncture, has some explanation (also extenuation, if that is necessary) in the rage and humiliation with which contemplation of his brother’s domestic affairs filled him. Johann was convalescing and wrote a letter to the composer which occasioned the following outburst under date of August 13: