The Englishman brought me your letter yesterday and evening before last I received another one for you through Fries. Another commission was brought by the other Englishman, the friend of Smith. A Mr. Donaldson in Edinburgh wants to know if you will not write a Trio for 3 pianofortes and in the style of your Quintet in E-flat. He wants to announce it as his property—The remuneration which you demand is to be paid to you in any way you may select—All the parts of the Trio must be obbligato. If you do not, write to Donaldson in Edinburgh direct. These Englishmen speak of nothing else than their wish to have you come to England—they give assurance that if you come for a single winter to England, Scotland and Ireland, you will earn so much that you can live the rest of your life on the interest.
And again:
The gentleman is going to write to Donaldson—Edinburgh—to-day—the answer can be here in 4 weeks and the gentleman can be here that long. Tell him how much you want, when it might be finished and how you want the payment made. He is very desirous to have a composition from you and there is no possibility of its being left on your hands—Moreover it is a great work. If you get 40 ducats for the Sonata he can doubtless pay 100. By that time the answer may be here from Edinburgh.
Great Britain’s monetary reward, had Beethoven accepted all its invitations, would no doubt have been all that the friend of “Mr. Donaldson of Edinburgh” stated and in proportion would have been the appreciation which Beethoven would have found at the hands of the English professional musicians, amateurs and musical laity.
Pathetic and diverting are the incidents which Karl Friedrich Zelter relates in letters to Goethe of his attempts to form a closer acquaintance with Beethoven. Zelter came to Vienna in July. He says that he wanted to call upon Beethoven, but he was in the country—nobody knew where. This in his first letter which mentions the subject. On August 16 he writes:
It is said that he is intolerably maussade. Some say that he is a lunatic. It is easy to talk. God forgive us all our sins! The poor man is reported as being totally deaf. Now I know what it means to see all this digital manipulation around me while my fingers are becoming useless one after the other. Lately Beethoven went into an eating-house; he sat himself down to a table and lost himself in thought. After an hour he calls the waiter. “What do I owe?” “The gentleman has not eaten anything yet” “What shall I bring?” “Bring anything you please, but let me alone!”
Meeting between Beethoven and Zelter
Zelter stays in Vienna from July to September, but sees nothing of Beethoven. Then, on September 12, he sets out with Steiner to visit the master at Mödling. On the road they meet Beethoven, who is on his way to the city. Leaving their carriages they embrace each other, but conversation with a deaf man not being practicable on the highway they separate after agreeing to meet at Steiner’s at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Zelter was moved almost to tears. After a hurried meal he and Steiner hastened back to Vienna. Let him relate the rest:
After eating we drove back to Vienna at once. Full as a badger and tired as a dog I lie down and sleep away the time, sleep so soundly that not a thing enters my mind. Then I go to the theatre and when I see Beethoven there I feel as if I had been struck by lightning. The same thing happens to him at sight of me, and this is not the place for explanations with a deaf man. Now comes the point: In spite of the things of which Beethoven is accused justly or unjustly, he enjoys a popular respect such as is bestowed only upon the most excellent. Steiner had given it out that Beethoven would appear in his little office, which will hold only six or eight persons, for the first time in person at 4 o’clock, and invited guests so generously that in a room crowded to the street, half a hundred brilliant people waited in vain. I did not get an explanation till next day, when I received a letter from Beethoven in which he begged my pardon, for he, like me, had passed the time set for the meeting in blissful sleep.