Chapter L: V. Beethoven

IV.

To Dr. F. WEGELER in Bonn.

_Vienna, June_ 29, 1800.

My good, dear Wegeler.

I am most grateful to you for thinking of me; I have so little deserved it, or sought to deserve it at your hands. And yet you are so very good, and are not kept back by anything, not even by my unpardonable negligence, but always remain a faithful, good, honest friend. That I could ever forget you, and especially all of you who were so kind and affectionate to me, no, do not believe it; there are moments in which I myself long for you--yes, and wish to spend some time with you. My native land, the beautiful country in which I first saw the light of the world, is ever as beautiful and distinct before mine eyes as when I left you. In short, I shall regard that time as one of the happiest of my life, when I see you again, and can greet our father Rhine. When that will be I cannot yet say. This much will I tell you, that you will only see me again when I am really great; not only greater as an artist, but as a man you shall find me better, more perfect; and if in our native land there are any signs of returning prosperity, I will only use my art for the benefit of the poor. O, happy moment, how fortunate I think myself in being able to get a fatherland created here!

You want to know something about my present state; well, at present, it is not so bad. Since last year, Lichnowsky, who, however incredible it may seem when I tell it you, was always my warmest friend, and has remained so (of course, there have been slight misunderstandings between us, but just these have strengthened our friendship), has settled a fixed sum of 600 florins on me, and I can draw it so long as I fail to find a suitable post. My compositions are bringing in a goodly sum, and I may add, it is scarcely possible for me to execute the orders given. Also, for every work I have six, seven publishers, and if I choose, even more. They do not bargain with me; I demand and they pay. You see how pleasant it is. For example, I see a friend in distress, and if my purse do not allow of my helping him, I have only to sit down and in a short time he is relieved. Also I am more economical than I was formerly. If I should settle here, I shall certainly contrive to get one day every year for concerts, of which I have given some.

Only my envious demon, my bad health, has thrown obstacles in my way. For instance, my hearing has become weaker during the last three years, and this infirmity was in the first instance caused by my general health, which, as you know, was already, in the past, in a wretched state. Frank wished to restore me to health by means of strengthening medicines, and to cure my deafness by means of oil of almonds, but, _prosit!_ nothing came of these remedies; my hearing became worse and worse, and my ill-health always remained in its first state. This continued until the autumn of last year, and ofttimes I was in despair. Then an Asinus of a doctor advised cold baths; a more skillful one, the usual tepid Danube baths. These worked wonders; the state of my health improved, my deafness remained, or became worse. This winter I was truly miserable. I had terrible attacks of colic, and I fell quite back into my former state. So I remained for about four weeks and then went to Vering, for I thought that this state required medical aid, and in addition I had always placed faith in him. He ordered tepid Danube baths, and whenever I took one I had to pour into it a little bottle full of strengthening stuff. He gave me no medicine until about four days ago, when he ordered an application of herbs for the ear. And through these I can say I feel stronger and better; only the humming in my ears continues day and night without ceasing. I may truly say that my life is a wretched one. For the last two years I have avoided all society, for it is impossible for me to say to people 'I am deaf.' Were my profession any other it would not so much matter, but in my profession it is a terrible thing; and my enemies, of whom they are not a few, what would they say to this? To give you an idea of this extraordinary deafness, I will tell you that when at the theatre, I am obliged to lean forward close to the orchestra, in order to understand what is being said on the stage. When somewhat at a distance I cannot hear the high tones of instruments, voices. In speaking it is not surprising that there are people who have never noticed it, for as a rule I am absent-minded, and they account for it in that way. Often I can scarcely hear anyone speaking to me; the tones, yes, but not the actual words; yet as soon as anyone shouts, it is unbearable. What will come of all this, heaven only knows! Vering says that there will _certainly be an improvement, though perhaps not a perfect cure_. I have, indeed, often ------------ cursed my existence; Plutarch taught me resignation. If nothing else is possible I will defy my fate, although there will be moments in my life when I shall be God's most wretched creature. I beg you not to tell anyone about this; don't say even a word to Lorchen. I only tell it you as a secret; I should be glad if you would open up correspondence with Vering on the subject. Should my present state continue, I would come next spring to you. You would take a house for me in some beautiful place in the country, and so I would rusticate for six months. By that means there might come a change. Resignation! what a miserable refuge, and yet it is the only way for me.

Pray forgive me for telling you of a friend's trouble, when you yourself are in sad circumstances. Stephen Breuning is now here, and we are together almost daily. It does me good to hark back to old times. He is really a good, noble young fellow, who knows a thing or two, and whose heart, as with all of us more or less, is sound. I have very fine rooms now, which look on to the bastion, and this for my health is of double value. I really think I can arrange for Breuning to come and live with me. You shall have your Antiochus, and a rare lot of my new compositions, unless you think it will cost you too much. Honestly speaking, your love for art gives me the highest pleasure. Only write to me how it is to be managed, and I will send you all my works, of which the number is now pretty large and it is daily increasing. In place of the portrait of my grandfather, which I beg you to send as soon as possible by stage coach, I send you that of his grandson, your ever good and affectionate Beethoven. It is coming out here at Artaria's, who, also other art firms, have often asked me for it. I will write shortly to Stoffel, and read him a bit of a lecture about his cross temper. He shall hear what I have to say about old friendship, he shall promise on his oath not to grieve you any more in your, apart from this, sad circumstances. I will also write to kind Lorchen. I have never forgot a single one of you, my dear good people, although you never get any news from me; but writing, as you well know, was never a strong point with me--years, even, have passed without my best friends ever receiving anything. I only live in my music, and I have scarcely begun one thing when I start another. As I am now working, I am often engaged on three or four things at the same time.

Write often to me now; I will see to it that I find time sometimes to write to you. Greetings to all, also to the good wife of the privy councillor, and tell her that I still, occasionally, have a "raptus." I am not surprised at the change in K; fortune is fickle, and does not always fall to the most worthy, the best. A word about Ries, to whom hearty greetings. As regards his son, about whom I will write shortly, although I am of opinion that to make his way in the world, Paris is better than Vienna. The latter city is overcrowded, and even persons of the highest merit find it hard to maintain themselves. By the autumn, or the winter, I will see what I can do for him, for then every one is returning.

Farewell, good, faithful Wegeler. Rest assured of the love and friendship of Your,

BEETHOVEN.

V.

To Dr. FRANZ WEGELER in Bonn.

_November_ 16 (1801?)

My good Wegeler.

I thank you for the fresh proof of your anxiety concerning myself, and all the more as I am so little deserving of it. You want to know how I am, what I am taking; and however unwillingly I may discuss the matter, I certainly like best to do it with you. For the last few months, Vering has ordered herb plasters to be constantly placed on both arms; and these, as you will know, are composed of a certain bark. This is a most unpleasant cure, as, until the bark has sufficiently drawn, I am deprived for a day or so of the free use of my arms, to say nothing of the pain. I cannot, it is true, deny that the humming with which my deafness actually began, has become somewhat weaker, especially in the left ear. My hearing, however, has not in the least improved; I really am not quite sure whether it has not become worse. My general health is better, and especially after I have taken luke warm baths a few times, I am fairly well for eight or ten days. I seldom take any tonic; I am now applying herb-plasters according to your advice. Vering won't hear of shower baths, but I am really very dissatisfied with him; he shows so little care and forbearance for such a malady; if I did not actually go to him, and that costs me a great effort, I should never see him. What is your opinion of Schmidt? I do not like making a change, yet it seems to me that Vering is too much a practitioner to be able to take in new ideas through books. Schmidt appears to me a very different kind of man, and perhaps would not be so remiss. I hear wonders of galvanism; what do you say about it? A doctor told me he had seen a deaf and dumb child in Berlin who had recovered his hearing, also a man who had been deaf for seven years. I have just heard that your Schmidt is making experiments with it.

My life is again somewhat pleasanter, for I mix in society. You can scarcely imagine what a dreary, sad life I have led during the past two years. My weak hearing always seemed to me like a ghost and I ran away from people, was forced to appear a misanthrope, though not at all in my character. This change has been brought about by an enchanting maiden, who loves me, and whom I love. Again during the past two years I have had some happy moments, and for the first time I feel that marriage can bring happiness. Unfortunately, she is not of my station in life, and now--for the moment I certainly could not marry--I must bravely bustle about. If it were not for my hearing, I should already long ago have travelled half over the world, and that I must do. For me there is no greater pleasure than that of practising and displaying my art. Do not believe that I should feel happy among you. What, indeed, could make me happier? Even your solicitude would pain me; at every moment I should read pity on your faces, and that would make me still more miserable. My beautiful native country, what was my lot when there? Nothing but hope of a better state, and, except for this evil, I should already have won it! O that I could be free from it, and encompass the world! My youth, yes I feel it, is only now beginning; have I not always been sickly? My strength, both of body and mind, for some time has been on the increase. Every day I approach nearer to the goal; this I feel, though I can scarcely describe it. Only through this, can your Beethoven live. Don't talk of rest! I know no other but sleep, and sorry enough am I, that I am compelled to give more time to it than formerly. If only half freed from my infirmity, then--as a thorough, ripe man--I will come to you and renew the old feelings of friendship. You will see me as happy as my lot can be here below, not unhappy. No, that I could not endure; I will seize fate by the throat; it shall certainly never wholly overcome me. Oh! life is so beautiful, would I could have a thousand lives! I feel I am no longer fit to lead a quiet life! Do write as soon as you can. See to it that Stephen makes up his mind to get an appointment in the Order of German Knights. For his health, life here is too fatiguing. And besides, he leads such a retired life, that I do not see how he can get on. You know how it is here; I do not mean to say that society would render him less languid; he can never be persuaded to go into it. Some time ago I had a musical party at my house; but our friend Stephen did not turn up. Do advise him to take more rest and to be more steady. I have done all I could; without he takes this advice, he can never become either happy or healthy. Now, tell me in your next letter, whether it matters if I send you a great deal of my music. What you really don't want you can sell, and so you will have your postage--also my portrait. Best remembrances to Lorchen--also Mamma--and Christoph. You do really love me a little, do you not? Be as well assured of this (of my love), as of the friendship of your

BEETHOVEN.

VI.

To CAPELLMEISTER HOFMEISTER in Leipzig.

_Vienna_, 15_th_ (or something like it), _January_, 1801.

With great pleasure, my dearly beloved brother and friend, have I read your letter. I thank you right heartily for the good opinion you have expressed concerning me and my works, and hope I may prove myself really worthy of it. Please also convey my dutiful thanks to Herr K. for his courtesy and friendly feelings towards me.

Your undertakings likewise make me glad, and I hope, if works of art can procure gain, that it will fall to the lot of genuine true artists, rather than to mere shopkeepers. That you wish to publish the works of _Sebastian_ Bach rejoices my heart, which beats in unison with the high art of this forefather of harmony, and I desire soon to see the scheme in full swing. I hope that here, so soon as golden peace has been proclaimed, I shall be able to be of great assistance in the matter, when you issue a subscription list. As regards our special business, since you wish it, I hope this may be to your liking: I now offer you the following: _Septet_ (concerning which I have already written to you; by _arranging_ it for pianoforte, it would become better known and be more profitable) 20 ducats, _Symphony_ 20 ducats, _Concerto_ 10 ducats, _Solo Sonata_ (_Allegro_, _Adagio_, _Minuetto_, _Rondo_) 20 ducats. This _Sonata_ is A1, dearest brother! Now for a word of explanation; you will perhaps be surprised that I here make no difference between _Sonata_, _Septet_, _Symphony_, because I find that there is not such a demand for a Septet or a _Symphony_ as for a Sonata; that is why I do so, although a _Symphony_ is undoubtedly of greater value (N.B.--the Septet consists of a short introductory _Adagio_, then _Allegro_, _Adagio_, _Minuetto_, _Andante_ with _Variations_, _Minuetto_, another short introductory _Adagio_, and then _Presto_). The _Concerto_ I only value at 10 ducats, because, as I have already written, I do not give it out as one of my best. All things considered, I do not think you will find this excessive; anyhow I have tried to name prices for you as moderate as I possibly could. Concerning the money order, since you leave me the choice, you could make it payable at Geimüller's or Schüller's. The full amount would therefore be 70 ducats for all four works. I do not understand any other money than Viennese ducats; how many thalers and gulden that makes, is no affair of mine, for I am a bad _business_ man and reckoner.

There is an end of the troublesome business. So I name it, because I only wish it could be otherwise in the world. There ought to be an artistic _depôt_ where the artist need only hand in his art-work in order to receive what he asks for. As things are, one must be half a business man, and how can one understand,--good heavens!--that's what I really call _troublesome_. As for the Leipzig O (?) let them just go on talking; _they_ will never by their chatter confer immortality on any one, neither can they take it away from any one for whom Apollo has destined it. Now, may heaven have _you and yours_ in its keeping. For some time I have not been well; and so it is now somewhat difficult for me to write notes, still more so alphabet letters. I hope that we shall often have opportunity to assure ourselves that you are a great friend to me, and that I am

Your devoted brother and friend,