"Ever yours,
"BEETHOVEN."
[31] It is said that, in the rehearsals of his "Christ on the Mount of Olives," quarrels took place from similar causes between Beethoven and the singers.
[32] Mozart experienced similar, nay still more painful mortifications, calumnies, and even depreciation of his abilities, on account of his Opera 'Die Entführung aus dem Serail,' from the singers and other envious creatures, at the head of whom was his professional colleague M. Salieri. We learn from the biography of that unrivalled composer, published by M. von Nissen and Mozart's widow, that those cabals and persecutions were carried much further on occasion of his succeeding opera 'Figaro's Hochzeit,' so that, on the conclusion of the second act, Mozart, filled with indignation, went to the Emperor Joseph in his box, and complained of the singers, who were brought back to their duty by a severe reprimand from the monarch. Such baseness and such malice, which incessantly persecuted the immortal Mozart, even after his death, and which found means to deprive his family, left in necessitous circumstances, of the promised support of the Emperor Leopold, are, and will perhaps for ever, remain unparalleled.
[33] It were sincerely to be wished that, in future editions of Beethoven's works, the dedications should never be omitted, as is so frequently the case. It was in some instances affection, in others gratitude, which gave our artist occasion to name those who were loved and esteemed by him; and with many of these dedications not unimportant circumstances are associated. Beethoven meant thereby to pay a real tribute of honour and respect to his friends and patrons, without harbouring the slightest expectation of being presented with rings, shirt-pins, gold snuff-boxes, and watches, for his public testimonies of esteem.
[34] At p. 83, M. Ries speaks of the performance of the Fantasia for the Piano-forte, Op. 80, in which the clarinet-player, by overlooking a repetition, occasioned an interruption. M. Ries proceeds thus with his narrative:—"Beethoven started up furiously, turned himself round, and abused the members of the orchestra in the grossest terms and in so loud a tone as to be heard by the whole audience. At length, he cried 'Begin again!' The theme was re-commenced; each performer fell in at the proper place, and the result was splendid. But when the concert was over, the performers, remembering too well the honourable epithet which Beethoven had publicly applied to them, fell into the most vehement rage, as though the affront had only just then been offered; and vowed never to play again if Beethoven was in the orchestra."
The assertion that Beethoven loudly desired that Fantasia to be repeated, on account of the blunder of the first clarinet, is true enough; but, as for any abuse of the members of the orchestra, who were not in fault, and that, too, "in the grossest terms," M. Fr. Clement, the able orchestra-director, with whom Beethoven brought out his Fidelio, the fourth, fifth, and sixth Symphonies, and that Fantasia, who still occupies his post at the Theater an der Wien, knows nothing about it.{**} Other members of the orchestra at that time, who are still living, know just as little of the matter, and protest against the statements of M. Ries. The latter was not present when Fidelio was brought out, for he was then on his way to Russia, and those Symphonies mentioned by him, p. 83, were not composed by Beethoven till several years afterwards, any more than the Fantasia in question.
At p. 84, M. Ries thus continues:—"A similar scene is said to have once occurred, but the orchestra resolved not to put up with the affront, and peremptorily insisted that he should not conduct. Accordingly, during the rehearsal, Beethoven was obliged to stay in an adjoining room, and it was a long time before this quarrel was made up."
Not a creature in Vienna has any recollection of such a scene, and, during my residence of twenty-three years in that city, I never heard a syllable on that subject.
{**} I remember having myself been present at the performance in question, seated in a corner of the gallery in the Theater an der Wien: during the last movement of the Fantasia I perceived that—like a carriage run away with down hill—an overturn was inevitable. Almost immediately after, it was, that I saw Beethoven give the signal for stopping. His voice was not heard; but he had probably given directions where to begin again—and after half a moment's respectful silence on the part of the audience—the orchestra re-commenced, and the performance proceeded without further mistake or stoppage.
To those who are acquainted with the work, it may be interesting to know the precise point at which the mistake occurred. It was in the passage where, for several pages, every three bars make up a triple rhythm, as shown on the following page. This peculiarly-constructed rhythm has, until the present time, like most of Beethoven's characteristics, remained his undisputed property.—ED.