He had bestowed on this child all the care and devotion with which his heart overflowed. But he was repaid with cruel suffering. It seemed that a kind of special fate had taken care to renew ceaselessly and to accumulate his miseries in order that his genius should not lack for food. At first he had a dispute over Carl with his mother, who wanted to take him away. "O, my God," he cried, "my shield and my defence, my only refuge! Thou readest the depths of my soul and Thou knowest the griefs that I experience when I have to cause suffering to those who want to dispute my Carl, my treasure.[56] Hearken unto me, Great Being, that I know not how to name. Grant the fervent prayer of the most unhappy of Thy creatures!"
"O God, aid me! Thou wilt not leave me entirely in the hands of men; because I do not wish to make a covenant with injustice! Hear the prayer which I make to Thee, that at least for the future I may live with my Carl!... O cruel fate, implacable destiny! No, no, my unhappiness will never end!"
Then this nephew, so passionately loved, proved unworthy of the confidence of his uncle. The correspondence between Beethoven and him is sad and revolting, like that of Michael Angelo with his brothers, but more simple and touching.
"Am I to be repaid once again with the most abominable ingratitude? Ah, well, if the bond must be broken, so be it! All impartial people who hear of it will hate you. If the compact between us weighs too heavily, in the name of God, may it be according to His will! I abandon you to Providence; I have done all that I could; I am ready to appear before the Supreme Judge!
"Spoilt as you are, that should not make it difficult to teach you to be simple and true; my heart has suffered so much by your hypocritical conduct, and it is difficult for me to forget.... God is my witness, I only long to be a thousand miles from you and from that sorry brother and from this abominable family.... I shall never more have confidence in you." And he signed "Unhappily your father—or rather, not your father." But pardon came almost immediately.
"My dear son! No more of this! Come to my arms. You shall not hear one harsh word. I will receive you with the same love. We will talk over what is to be done for your future in a friendly manner. On my word of honour there will be no reproach. That would do no good. You have nothing to expect from me but sympathy and the most loving care. Come, come to the faithful heart of your father. Come immediately you receive this letter, come to the house." (And on the envelope in French, "If you do not come, you will surely kill me.")
"Do not deceive me," he begged, "be always my beloved son. What a horrible discord it would be if you were to be false to me, as many persons maintain that you already are.... Good-bye, he who has not given you life but who has certainly preserved it, and who has taken all possible care with your moral development, with an affection more than paternal, begs you from the bottom of his heart to follow the only true path of the good and the just.
Your faithful foster-father." [57]
After having cherished all kinds of dreams for the future of this nephew, who was not lacking in intelligence and whom he wished to take up a University career, Beethoven had to consent to make a merchant of him. But Carl frequented gambling dens and contracted debts. By a sad phenomenon, more frequent than one believes, the moral grandeur of his uncle, instead of doing him good, made him worse. It exasperated him, impelling him to revolt, as he said in those terrible words where his miserable soul appears so plainly, "I have become worse because my uncle wished me to do better." He reached such a state that in the summer of 1826 he shot himself in the head with a pistol. He did not die from it, but it was Beethoven who just missed dying. He never recovered from this terrible fright.[58] Carl recovered; he lived to the end to cause suffering to his uncle, whose death he hastened in no slight measure. Nor was he with him at the hour of his death. "God has never abandoned me," wrote Beethoven to his nephew, some years before. "He will find someone to close my eyes." This was not to be the one whom he called "his son."[59]