Chapter XIV (3)

Of my own volition I had composed a Battle Symphony for Mälzel for his Panharmonica without pay. After he had had it for a while he brought me the score, the engraving of which he had already begun--[Beethoven probably meant that Mälzel had begun the preparation of the cylinder--H.E.K.] and wanted it arranged for full orchestra. I had previously formed the idea of a Battle (Music) which, however, was not applicable to his Panharmonica. We agreed to perform this work and others of mine in a concert for the benefit of the soldiers. Meanwhile I got into the most terrible financial embarrassment. Deserted by the whole world here in Vienna, in expectation of a bill of exchange, etc., Mälzel offered me 50 ducats in gold. I took them and told him that I would give them back to him here, or would let him take the work with him to London in case I did not go with him--in which latter case I would refer him to an English publisher who would pay him these 50 ducats. The Academies were now given. In the meantime Mälzel’s plan and character were developed. Without my consent he printed on the placards that it was his property. Incensed at this he had to have these torn down. Now he printed: “Out of friendship for his journey to London”; to this I consented, because I thought that I was still at liberty to fix the conditions on which I would let him have the work. I remember that I quarrelled violently with him while the notices were printing, but the too short time--I was still writing on the work. In the heat of my inspiration, immersed in my work, I scarcely thought of Mälzel. Immediately after the first Academy in the University Hall, I was told on all hands by trustworthy persons that Mälzel was spreading it broadcast that he had loaned me 400 ducats in gold. I thereupon had the following printed in the newspaper, but the newspaper writers did not print it as Mälzel is befriended with all of them. Immediately after the first Academy I gave back to Mälzel his 50 ducats, telling him that having learned his character here, I would never travel with him, righteously enraged because he had printed on the placards, without my consent, that all the arrangements for the Academy were badly made and his bad patriotic character showed itself in the following expressions--I [~unprintable~]--if only they will say in London that the public here paid 10 florins; not for the wounded but for this did I do this--and also that I would not let him have the work for London except on conditions concerning which I would let him know. He now asserted that it was a gift of friendship and had this expression printed in the newspaper without asking me about it in the least. Inasmuch as Mälzel is a coarse fellow, entirely without education, or culture, it may easily be imagined how he conducted himself toward me during this period and increased my anger more and more. And who would force a gift of friendship upon such a fellow? I was now offered an opportunity to send the work to the Prince Regent. It was now impossible to ~give him the work unconditionally~. He then came to you and made proposals. He was told on what day to come for his answer; but he did not come, went away and performed the work in Munich. How did he get it? ~Theft~ was impossible--Herr Mälzel had a few of the parts at home for a few days and from these he had the whole put together by some musical handicraftsman, and with this he is now trading around in the world. Herr Mälzel promised me hearing machines. To encourage him I composed the Victory Symphony for his Panharmonica. His machines were finally finished, but were useless for me. For this small trouble Herr Mälzel thinks that after I had set the ~Victory Symphony~ for grand orchestra and ~composed the Battle for it~, I ought to have him the ~sole owner~ of this work. Now, assuming that I really felt under some obligation for the hearing machines, it is cancelled by the fact that he made at least 500 florins convention coin, out of the Battle stolen from me or compiled in a mutilated manner. He has therefore paid himself. He had the audacity to say here that he had the Battle; indeed he showed it in writing to several persons--but I did not believe it, and I was right, inasmuch as the whole was ~not compiled by me~ but by ~another~. Moreover, the honor which he credits to himself alone might be a reward. ~I was not mentioned at all by the Court War Council~, and yet everything in the two academies was of my composition. If, as he said, Herr Mälzel delayed his journey to London because of the Battle, it was merely a hoax. Herr Mälzel remained until he had finished his patchwork (?), the first attempts not being successful.

Beethoven, m. p.

II.

EXPLANATION AND APPEAL TO THE MUSICIANS OF LONDON BY LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN

Herr Mälzel, who is at present in London, on his way thither performed ~my Victory Symphony and Wellington’s Battle at Vittoria~ in Munich, and, according to report, will also give concert performances of it in London as he was also willing to do in Frankfort. This leads me publicly to declare: that I never under any circumstances yielded or gave these works to Herr Mälzel, that nobody possesses a copy of them, and that the only one which I gave out was sent to his Royal Highness, the Prince Regent of England.

The performance of these works on the part of Herrn Mälzel, therefore, is a fraud on the public, inasmuch as according to this explanation he is not in possession of them, or if he is in possession of them an infringement on my rights, as he has obtained them in an illegal manner.

But even in the latter case the public will be deceived, for that which Herr Mälzel will give them to hear under the title: ~Wellington’s Battle at Vittoria and Victory Symphony~, must obviously be a spurious or mutilated work, since he never received anything of these works from me except a single part for a few days.

This suspicion becomes certainty when I add the assurance of musicians of this city whose names I am empowered to mention in case of necessity, that Herr Mälzel said to them on leaving Vienna that he was in possession of the work and showed them parts of it, which, however, as I have already proved, could be nothing else than mutilated and spurious parts.

Whether Herr Mälzel is capable of doing me such an injury?--is answered by the circumstance that he had himself announced as the ~sole undertaker~ of my two concerts given here in Vienna for the benefit of the soldiers wounded in the war, at which only works of mine were performed, in the public prints, without an allusion to my name.

I therefore call upon the musical artists of London not to suffer such an injury to me, their colleague, by a performance arranged by Herrn Mälzel of the Battle of Vittoria and the Victory Symphony, and to prevent such an imposition on the London public in the manner set forth.

Vienna, July 25, 1814.

III.

CERTIFICATE

We, the undersigned, certify in the interest of truth and can vouch under oath if necessary: that there were several conferences between Herrn Louis van Beethoven and the Court Mechanician, Herrn Mälzel of this city, at the house of the undersigned. Dr. Carl v. Adlersburg, the which had for their subject the musical composition called: “The Battle of Vittoria” and the visit to England; at these, Herr Mälzel made several propositions to Herrn van Beethoven to secure the work aforementioned, or at least the right of first performance for himself. But as Herr Mälzel did not appear at the last meeting arranged for, nothing came of the matter, the propositions made to the former not having been accepted by him.

Vienna, October 20, 1814.

Joh. Freiherr v. Pasqualati,
[L. S.]
~K. K. priv. Grosshändler~.

Carl Edler von Adlersburg,
~Hof-und Gerichts-Advocat~
[L. S.]
~K. K. Öffentlicher Notar~.

The so-called “Deposition” is, says Thayer, in truth, nothing more than an ex-parte statement prepared for the use of his lawyer by a very angry man, in whom a tendency to suspicion and jealousy had strengthened with advancing years and with the increase of an incurable infirmity. Mälzel’s contra-statement to his lawyer is lost. He had no young disciple planning with zeal to preserve it and give it, with his version of the story, to posterity.

[Sidenote: THE MERITS OF MÄLZEL’S CASE]

No one, who is ignorant of Schindler’s honestly meant, but partisan representations, or who, knowing them, can disabuse his mind of any prejudgment thence arising, can read Beethoven’s statement without misgivings; all the more, if the facts proved by Moscheles and Stein--tacitly admitted, though utterly suppressed, in the document--are known to him. Nor will he be convinced by all the force of the harsh language of denunciation, that Mälzel did not act honestly and in good faith, when he called the “Victory” his property.

There is nothing in the first part of the statement that requires comment; though in passing it may be observed, that the pathos of “deserted by the whole world here in Vienna” would be increased if one could forget the Archduke, the Brentanos, the Streichers, Breitkopf and Härtel, Zmeskall, and others. It must be borne in mind (in Beethoven’s favor) that the paper was written several months after the events of which it speaks; that it was drawn up at a time when its writer was excessively busy; that it bears all the marks of haste and want of reflection; that it was obviously intended for his lawyer’s eye alone; that there is evident confusion of memory as to times and events; and that--be it repeated--it is the ~ex-parte~ statement of an angry man. Take the “400 ducats in gold”; here Beethoven’s memory must have played him false, certainly as to the time, probably as to the substance of what he heard from the “trustworthy persons.” Mälzel could have had no possible motive to utter so glaring a falsehood; but every motive not to do so. A few weeks later, he might and very probably did assert, that the damages to him arising from the sacrifice of the “Victory” as a piece for his Panharmonicon, from the expense of his prolonged stay in Vienna, from the loss of the holiday season in Munich, from the time, study and labor spent in experiments on Beethoven’s ear-trumpets, and from his exclusion from all share in these profitable concerts, which he alone had made possible--that these damages were not less than 400 ducats. Nor does such an estimate appear to be a gross exaggeration. “I therefore had the following printed in the newspaper,” continues Beethoven. If the passage which follows be what he desired to have printed, the reasons why the editors refused are sufficiently obvious; if they had cherished no regard for Mälzel and had believed him in the wrong, they must have suppressed such a communication for Beethoven’s own sake.

The character of Mälzel--drawn in a few dark lines by his opponent--has no bearing on the real point at issue; it may, however, be observed as remarkable, that Beethoven alone made the discovery, and this not until--after some years of close intimacy and friendship--he had quarrelled with him. There are not many, who having so sagaciously planted and seen the harvest gathered in by another--who, smarting under the disappointment, and irritated by the loss of so much time, pains and labor--would sit down quietly, exhibit Job’s patience, and refrain from all expressions of feeling not suited to a lady’s boudoir; nor is it to be supposed that Mälzel acted this Christian part; but then Beethoven was hardly the man to cast the first stone at the sinner.

The sudden resolution to send the “Wellington’s Victory” to the Prince Regent of England, was obviously part and parcel of the proceedings against Mälzel, the object being to defeat there any production of the work by him. Beethoven himself was the only loser by it. The prince never said “thank you” for it.

In the argument against the correctness of Mälzel’s copy of the work, Beethoven is, to say the least, unfortunate. His opponent may have had, from ~him~, only single parts (in the second paper it stands “a single part”!); but the circumstances were such that Mälzel could have had no difficulty in obtaining temporary use of most if not all the parts, and there were plenty of “musical handicraftsmen” amply capable, after so many rehearsals and public performances, of producing a copy in the main correct.

It is painful to one who loves and reveres the memory of Beethoven, to peruse the closing passages of this document; it is, fortunately, not necessary to comment upon their character. It was not necessary for Beethoven to speak of Mälzel’s share in the composition of the work, in the first of these papers; the opposing lawyer would attend to that; but was it just and ingenuous to suppress it entirely in the appeal to the London musicians? Schindler asserts that this appeal prevented Mälzel from producing it. It ~could~ have had no such effect. The simple truth is, that in those days for a stranger like Mälzel to undertake orchestral concerts in London would have been madness. The new Philharmonic Society, composed of all the best resident musicians, had hardly achieved an assured existence.

The third paper is testimony to a single fact and is so impartially drawn, so skilfully worded, as not to afford a point for or against either of the parties. Schindler closes his history of the affair thus: “The legal proceedings in Vienna were without result, however, the defendant being far away and his representatives knowing how to protract the case unduly, whereby the plaintiff was subjected to considerable expense and ever new annoyances. For this reason our master refrained from prosecuting the case further, since meanwhile the facts had become widely known and had frightened the false friend from making new attempts. The court costs were divided evenly by the litigants. Mälzel never returned to Vienna, but at a later period appealed in a letter to the friend whom he had swindled when he thought that he needed his recommendation for the metronome. This letter, dated Paris, April 19, 1818, is here. In it he represents to Beethoven that he was at work for him upon a hearing machine for use in conducting; he even invites him to accompany him on a journey to England. The master expressed his satisfaction with the metronome to the mechanician; but he never heard more concerning the machines.”

Now Schindler’s own account of the first two occasions when he spoke with Beethoven, copied into the text, partly with a view to this, shows that he could have no personal knowledge of the Mälzel affair, except its issue; and an examination of his pages proves further, that his account of it is but a paraphrase of Beethoven’s statement. His own words, written in a Conversation Book, demonstrate that the greater portion of the above citation is nonsense; for those words inform us that Mälzel returned to Vienna in the autumn of 1817; that, then and there, peace was made between the parties, and the old friendship restored; and that thereupon they passed a jovial evening together in the “Kamehl,” where Schindler himself sang soprano in the “Ta, ta, ta,” canon to the bass of Mälzel! What is the historic value of a narrative so made up and ending with such an astounding lapse of memory?

Mälzel spent his last years mostly in Philadelphia and other American cities. A few men of advanced years are still living there, unless recently passed away--(Thayer is writing in the eighth decade of the nineteenth century)--who retain an affectionate and respectful memory of him as a gentleman and man of culture; they will rejoice in this, at the least, partial vindication of their old friend. Candor and justice compel the painful admission that Beethoven’s course with Mälzel is a blot--one of the few--upon his character, which no amount of misrepresentation of the facts can wholly efface; whoever can convince himself that the composer’s conduct was legally and technically just and right, must still feel that it was neither noble nor generous.

Mälzel died suddenly on July 21, 1838, on an American brig, while on a voyage between the United States and the West Indies.

[124] ~Eselshaut~--“Ass’s Skin.”--A fairy play of that name with music by Hummel was performed on March 10, 1814, in the Theater-an-der-Wien.

[125] Dr. Leopold Sonnleithner, in the “Recensionen” of Vienna (1861. p. 592), corrects a mistake in an obituary notice of Chapelmaster Gläser with the remark: “I can very well remember that the opera (‘Fidelio’) was rehearsed and conducted by Josef Weigl.” Dr. Sonnleithner’s authority is justly so decisive in all matters pertaining to the musical annals of Vienna, and even the slightest errors are so very rare in his writings, that if one occurs it must be corrected upon unimpeachable authority, to prevent its passing into history. Now, in the manuscript text-book above cited, is written below the list of properties: “Herr Umlauf, conducts”; and near the end of the manuscript overture to “Fidelio” stands in Beethoven’s hand: “Indicate to Umlauf where the trombones enter.” Treitschke is thus so fully confirmed as to leave no doubt that in this instance Dr. Sonnleithner’s memory played him false.

[126] Beethoven’s play on words cannot be reproduced in translation.

[127] He had forgotten, evidently, that he no longer lived in the fourth storey.

[128] It should be 1808.

[129] Probably on account of his deafness; for Moscheles adds: “I had seen Artaria speaking close to his ear.”

[130] Can there be any doubt now that Beethoven took Bettina to one of the rehearsals?

[131] In August Schmidt’s “Musikalisches Taschenbuch, Orpheus,” for 1841.

[132] Judging from the internal evidence this letter is of date, July 10. On Saturday, July 2, “Coriolan” was given, and Beethoven may well have been present. The note was written on a Sunday. July 10 was a Sunday.

[133] Seyfried had long been accustomed to write for four horns. Speaking of his own compositions in 1806, he says: “Moreover I wrote ... for my excellent horn-players several ~divertimenti~ for four ~obbligati~ French horns.”

[134] Dr. Riemann opines that the confusion of opinion concerning the air sprang from the erroneous statement of the reporter of the “Allg. Mus. Zeitung” that the new air of the benefit performance was accompanied by four horns; and that the error was pardonable, inasmuch as the three horns actually used are supplemented by a fourth ~obbligato~ part for the bassoon. Nottebohm (“Zweite Beethoveniana,” pp. 302-306), is of the opinion that Beethoven did not compose the scena anew for the benefit performance of 1814. But what shall we say to Beethoven’s announcement: “For this performance two new pieces have been added”?

[135] Another untranslatable play on words: “Diese ~Einnahme~ ist wohl mehr eine ~Ausnahme~,” etc.

[136] June 23rd, 1860, in Salzburg.

[137] Received July 4, 1859. The venerable man was then eighty-seven years of age.

[138] The letters written by Beethoven to Dr. Kanka, Archduke Rudolph and Baron Pasqualati, relative to this subject, are printed in full in the German editions of this biography: Appendix VIII to Vol. III in the first edition, Appendix III to Vol. III in the second. As they contribute nothing to the facts in the controversy with Prince Kinsky’s heirs, the English Editor felt himself justified in omitting them here with this direction to the curious student where they may be found.

[139] See the Laybach Circular of May, 1821.

[140] See Nottebohm’s “Beethoveniana,” Chap. XIV.

[141] Since this was written, Herr Nottebohm has kindly communicated a supplementary article on this overture containing portions of newly discovered sketches with the remark by Beethoven: “Overture for any occasion--or for concert use” and closing thus: “The last sketches were written about March, 1815.” “This seems a contradiction of the date given at the beginning of the autograph (October 1, 1814). This contradiction can be explained. Beethoven evidently noted the date when he began writing out the score, but interrupted the work (because the overture was not performed on the name-day of the Emperor?) and did not take it up again until several months had passed, when the sketches and hints for passages which occur later may have originated.” Certainly this is possible; but the different dates assigned to the Petter sketchbook (1809 in this work, 1812 in the “Beethoveniana”) necessarily lead to an irreconcilable divergence of opinion. A studious reconsideration of the subject ends in the conviction that the historic evidence, as it now stands, renders unnecessary any alterations in the text.

[142] Meyerbeer.

[143] That Beethoven transcribed the march in the Sonata, Op. 26, for orchestra is confirmed by the following letter of Chapelmaster Ad. Müller (~père~) written to the author in answer to a note of inquiry:

“Highly respected Sir!

“To your valued letter I have to make reply as follows: I certainly
have in my autograph collection the ~autograph of the orchestral
score~ of the funeral march contained in the great Sonata for
Pianoforte, Op. 26: The score consists of six sheets and twelve
pages--~written throughout in Beethoven’s hand~. On the 1st, 8th
and 12th pages there are marginal notes for the copyist.

“The piece is orchestrated for 2 flutes, 2 clarinets in C, 2 horns
in D, 2 horns in E, to which are added four staves for instruments
which are not named, probably for trumpets and trombones. [To judge
by the setting rather for the string quartet.]

“I received this score of the celebrated master from the art and
music dealer Tobias Haslinger in the year 1829-30 with the remark,
here faithfully reported, that he gave me the manuscript with
pleasure as a souvenir, inasmuch as he would by no means ~print~ or
~publish~ the composition in ~this form~. This score therefore is
~unique~! The piece is in B minor....

“Your ever ready

“Adolph Müller.”

Together with the other music to “Leonore Prohaska” the march is printed in the Complete Edition of Breitkopf and Härtel, Series 25, No. 272.

[144] The circumstances connected with the last postponement of this concert and the onerous conditions which Count Palffy sought to impose upon Beethoven are interestingly told by Dr. Frimmel in his “Beethoven-Studien, Vol. II,” p. 41 ~et seq.~