Toward the end of October, and before the negotiations in regard to the army appointment were concluded, the young man was released from the hospital, and placed under the control of the master, with the injunction that he be removed from Vienna at once. At this juncture brother Johann placed his country house at Gneixendorf at the disposal of the master and nephew, and thither the two repaired, the elder, stricken, bowed with grief; the youth, sullen and indifferent. The master had never entered Johann's house since the summer of 1812, when he had tried so ineffectually, as noted in a previous chapter, to break up the relations existing between the pair while the lady was as yet only the housekeeper. It must have been with great reluctance that he considered visiting him at all. The sacrifice, if such there was, was made in the interest of Karl; where this young scapegrace was concerned, the master was generally willing to sink his own preferences. The situation must have been embarrassing for all concerned, less so in reality for the master than for the others. Absorbed in the composition of the new finale, and also in the finishing up of the great C sharp minor Quartet, he was for the most part oblivious to anything unusual in his surroundings. Johann's wife, with the policy of her class, bore no resentment, or at least showed none outwardly. A pleasant room on the ground floor was fitted up for him, but the welcome must have been a cold one at best.
No doubt the Gutsbesitzer took much pleasure in showing off his possessions to the brother whom he knew had little esteem for him at heart. He paraded his own importance in the neighborhood, taking the composer on business visits to prominent people. On these occasions he would not usually introduce his brother, treating him as a kind of appendage. The master, deep in the thought of creative work, was, no doubt, to a great extent unconscious of this sordidness. At all events he gave no sign. But he contributed very little to the social well-being of the family. Two aims only seem to have occupied his mind at this time: the welfare of his nephew, and the carrying to completion of a few great works already sketched or begun. These included a Tenth Symphony, (for the Philharmonic Society of London), the Oratorio, The Victory of the Cross, for the Vienna Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, music to Goethe's Faust, which latter he must have been in good mood for,—as well as an overture on Bach. "I hope yet," he writes from Johann's home, "to bring some great works into the world, and then like an old child, to close my earthly career somewhere among good people." He worked with feverish haste in the latter years of his life, whenever his health permitted, even abandoning his books in favor of his work. Failing health prevented him from forcing it ahead as in former years, but he worked up to the limit of his powers.
His habits while composing have been referred to in a previous chapter, namely, that he was in the habit of singing, stamping, gesticulating, while under the spell of his inspiration. This kind of thing was new to the maid who looked after his room, and she managed to extract amusement from it. Beethoven finally discovered her laughing at him, and forthwith bundled her out of the room, giving orders that no female would be admitted again. One of the men about the place, Michael Kren, was then engaged, who performed his duties faithfully, and helped materially to establish a more comfortable existence for the sick, helpless man. He has narrated circumstantially the master's mode of life while at Gneixendorf. He was up and at work at half-past five, beating time with hands and feet, singing, humming. This went on until breakfast time, half-past seven. This meal over he would hurry out of doors, (the weather was fine that particular autumn) spending the morning going about the fields, note-book in hand, his mind intent on his musical thoughts, occasionally singing or calling out, going now slowly, then very fast, at times stopping still to write out his ideas. This would go on until noon, when he would return to the house for dinner. This was served at half-past twelve, after which he would go to his room for about two hours, then again to the fields until sunset. He was never out in the evening as night air was considered bad for him. Supper was served at half-past seven. His evenings were spent in his room, and at ten o'clock he went to bed.
This simple, regular life, with the healthful country air, should have restored Beethoven's health in some measure could it have been continued longer. His letters from here indicate that he expected some improvement in this respect. Had not some untoward circumstances intervened, the master's life might have been spared long enough to enable him to carry to completion the list of works outlined above.
That Johann had an ulterior object in asking his brother to visit him is quite probable. The growing fame of the composer and the ever-increasing value of his copyrights was well known to him. He had made money in his dealings between composer and publisher in the past, and could have made still more had he possessed his brother's confidence in a greater degree. His cupidity however, prevented him from keeping up for long even the semblance of kindness or hospitality. Fuel was so scantily provided the sick guest that he suffered from cold, and he was told that a charge would be made for the room. Other circumstances may have contributed to bring about a climax. At all events the situation became so unpleasant that he suddenly decided to return to Vienna.
CHAPTER XVIII
IN THE SHADOWS
As a day well spent gives joyful sleep,