Incidents of the Performance

The overture was that to “The Consecration of the House.” Duport had a hand in the drafting of the announcement and wanted to include in it the statement that Beethoven would conduct with Umlauf. Schindler in reporting the fact to Beethoven added: “I did not know what to reply and so it was omitted this time. You could surely conduct the overture alone. It would put too severe a strain upon your ears and for that reason I would not advise you to conduct the whole.”

The theatre was crowded in every part except the imperial box; that was empty. Beethoven had gone in person, accompanied by Schindler, to invite the Imperial Family, and some of its members promised to attend; but the Emperor and Empress had left Vienna a few days before and Archduke Rudolph, who had naturally displayed interest in the affair, was in Olmütz. But we hear of several of Beethoven’s present and former friends seated in various parts of the house;—poor, bedridden Zmeskall was carried to his seat in a sedan chair. Some of the foremost musicians of Vienna were in the band—Mayseder, Böhm, Jansa, Linke, etc. The performance was far from perfect. There was lack of a homogeneous power, a paucity of nuance, a poor distribution of lights and shades. Nevertheless, strange as the music must have sounded to the audience, the impression which it made was profound and the applause which it elicited enthusiastic to a degree. At one point in the Scherzo, presumably at the startling entry of the tympani at the ritmo di tre battute, the listeners could scarcely restrain themselves, and it seemed as if a repetition then and there would be insisted upon. To this Beethoven, no doubt engrossed by the music which he was following in his mind, was oblivious. Either after the Scherzo or at the end of the Symphony,[114] while Beethoven was still gazing at his score, Fräulein Unger, whose happiness can be imagined, plucked him by the sleeve and directed his attention to the clapping hands and waving hats and handkerchiefs. Then he turned to the audience and bowed.

After the concert Beethoven’s friends, as was natural, came together to exchange comments and felicitate him. From Schindler Beethoven received a report which is preserved in the Conversation Book. It gives us a glimpse of his own joy and the composer’s happy pride in having been more enthusiastically greeted than the court:

Never in my life did I hear such frenetic and yet cordial applause. Once the second movement of the Symphony was completely interrupted by applause—and there was a demand for a repetition. The reception was more than imperial—for the people burst out in a storm 4 times. At the last there were cries of Vivat!—The wind-instruments did very bravely—not the slightest disturbance could be heard.—When the parterre broke out in applauding cries the 5th time the Police Commissioner yelled Silence!—The court only 3 successive times but Beethoven 5 times.—My triumph is now attained; for now I can speak from my heart. Yesterday I still feared secretly that the Mass would be prohibited because I heard that the Archbishop had protested against it. After all I was right in at first not saying anything to the Police Commissioner. By God, it would have happened!—He surely never has been in the Court Theatre. Well, Pax tecum!

Joseph Hüttenbrenner went with Schindler when he escorted the composer to his lodgings. At this point there appears to be something like a flight of the imagination in Schindler’s narrative. Arrived at home Schindler hands Beethoven the box-office report. He takes it, gives it a glance and falls in a swoon. The two friends raise him from the floor and carry him to a sofa, where he lies without uttering a word until far into the night. Then they observe that he has fallen asleep, and depart. Next morning Beethoven is found on the sofa, still in his concert-clothes. Schindler should have taken a glance at the Conversation Books before writing this dramatic story. There he would have found a record of his own words which shows that he came to Beethoven on the day after the concert and asked him to send his nephew to meet him in the afternoon at the box-office of the theatre where the accounts were to be settled. He did not know what the receipts were even then, for he remarks to Beethoven, “In Paris and London the concert would certainly have yielded from 12 to 15 thousand florins; here it may be as many hundreds.” And then he goes on: “After yesterday you must now too plainly see that you are trampling upon your own interests by remaining longer within these walls. In short, I have no words to express my feelings at the wrong which you are doing yourself.... Have you recovered from yesterday’s exertions?”

Friends Accused of Dishonesty

The financial results of the concert fell far short of Beethoven’s expectations. The gross receipts were 2200 florins in the depreciated Vienna money, of which only 420 florins remained after paying the cost of administration and copying; and against this pitiful sum some petty expenses were still chargeable. Beethoven was not only disappointed; he was chagrined and thrown into a fuming ill-humor. He invited Schindler, Umlauf and Schuppanzigh to dine with him at the restaurant “Zum wilden Mann” in the Prater. The composer came with his nephew; “his brow was clouded, his words were cold, peevish, captious,” says Schindler. He had ordered an “opulent” meal, but no sooner had the party sat down to the table than the “explosion which was imminent” came. In plainest terms he burst out with the charge that the management and Schindler had cheated him. Umlauf and Schuppanzigh tried to convince him that that was impossible, as every penny had passed through the hands of the two theatre cashiers, whose accounts tallied, and that though it was contrary to custom, his nephew had acted in behalf of his brother as comptroller. Beethoven persisted in his accusation, saying that he had his information from an entirely credible source. Thereupon Schindler and Umlauf abruptly left the room. Schuppanzigh remained behind just long enough to get a few stripes on his broad back and then joined his companions in misery. Together they finished their meal at a restaurant in the Leopoldstadt.[115] Schindler, after a disquisition on Beethoven’s habit of estranging his friends by insulting them and then winning them back by the frankness of his confessions and the sincerity of his contrition, says that after the composer’s return from Baden in November, he approached him in this winning mood, “and the entire occurrence was at once drowned in the waters of Lethe.” But Schindler was not only in error as to the time of the incident—he says it was after the second concert—he also seems to have forgotten that he received a letter which on its face shows that he had written to Beethoven defending himself against the charges made. Beethoven’s letter was as follows:

I did not accuse you of any wrongdoing in connection with the concert; but unwisdom and arbitrary actions spoiled much. Besides I have a certain fear lest some great misfortune shall some time happen to me through you. Clogged drains often open suddenly, and that day in the Prater I thought you were offensive in several things. Moreover there are many times when I would rather try to repay the services which you perform for me with a little gift than with a meal, for I admit that I am often too greatly disturbed. If you do not see a pleasant face you say at once: “Bad weather again to-day”; for being commonplace yourself how can you help misunderstanding that which is not commonplace?

In short I love my independence too much. There will be no lack of opportunities to invite you, but it is impossible to do so continually, inasmuch as thereby all my affairs are disarranged.