“That is all right, of course,” said the Prince, quietly. “Excuse me, dear Beethoven; but you, Friedrich”—he turned and spoke decidedly to the servant—“must serve Herr van Beethoven first when he and I ring for you at the same time.”
The young artist’s anger was quickly changed to shame, and the result was that he procured a servant of his own that very day, to answer his bell.
The Prince, as usual, let him do as he pleased, without paying any attention to his extraordinary conduct. The good understanding between them was so little disturbed by it that he gave him an annuity of six hundred gulden, for the Elector of Cologne had died in the meantime, and by his death Beethoven’s salary as chamber musician was cut off.
The young artist’s obstinacy was not only displayed in his countenance, but in his behavior toward other people. One day he was invited by an old, wealthy Countess to a reception which she gave in honor of Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia.[28] Beethoven accepted the invitation, for he highly esteemed the Prince, with whom he was personally acquainted and of whom he once said: “He plays the piano not like a Prince, but like a correct, skilful musician.” There was music, and the Prince was friendly and unconstrained in his intercourse with Beethoven. When they were invited to supper Beethoven noticed that the haughty old Countess had arranged to serve the Prince and certain gentlemen of the higher nobility at a special table. He arose in a rage, uttered some coarse expressions about the “old fool,” put on his hat, turned his back upon the whole company, and rushed out like the thundering Jupiter.
All the greater was his delight when the Prince shortly afterwards compensated him in a most satisfactory manner. The Prince gave a dinner of state a few days later, to which, besides Beethoven, the “old fool” and the guests of the previous evening were invited. When they went to the table he seated Beethoven at his right hand and the old Countess at his left. Beethoven at last was contented, and chatted with the Prince during the dinner in the most agreeable manner.
Beethoven cordially despised what is called etiquette, and he neither could nor would submit to the etiquette of the royal court. The Archduke Rudolph[29] had prevailed upon Beethoven, though he was very unwilling to do it, to give him lessons on the piano and in composition. He highly esteemed the Prince, and on that account faithfully performed his “court service,” as he called his lessons to the Archduke, but submission to instructions from the court chamberlain, who tried to make him observe the formalities of etiquette, was far from his intentions. The chamberlain, however, did not relax his efforts to instruct him in the regulations, and made all sorts of signs to him, until at last Beethoven’s patience was completely worn out.
One day, when the chamberlain attempted to give him a stricter lesson than usual, Beethoven said in a violent tone: “Sir, follow me to the Archduke’s room. I am sick of your everlasting court chamberlaining and will make an end of it, once for all.”
The chamberlain’s face grew a yard long at Beethoven’s order to go to the Archduke, as well as at his furious tone. He indignantly refused to obey the sharp command, and Beethoven might perhaps have been still more vociferous had not the Archduke himself, who had heard the dispute, opened the door at that instant and come out of his room.
“What is going on here?” he asked, astonished at the wrathful expression on Beethoven’s face.
“Herr Archduke, I have the utmost possible respect for Your Royal Highness, but if I am expected to obey all the orders and instructions the court chamberlain is continually pestering me with, then I must give up coming here any more, for I don’t care about such trifles.”