Chapter XXI

Beethoven’s Love-Affairs--The Letter to the “Immortal Beloved”--Giulietta Guicciardi--Therese Brunswick--Countess Erdödy--Therese Malfatti--Confused Chronologies--Many Contradictory Theories and Speculations.

In the letter dated November 16, Beethoven’s strong expressions of desire and intention to exhibit his powers as pianist and composer in other cities, are striking and worthy of the reader’s attention, yet need no comment; but a new topic there introduced must be treated at some length, not because it is of very great importance in itself, but as an episode in the master’s life which has employed so many pens and upon which biographer and novelist seem to have contended which could make the most of it and paint it in the highest romantic colors.[120]

The sentences referred to are: “I am living more pleasantly since. I live more amongst men.... This change has been wrought by a _dear fascinating_ girl, etc.” Notwithstanding all that has been written on this text there is little reason to think that Beethoven’s passion for this particularly fascinating girl was more engrossing or lasting than at other periods for others, although peculiar circumstances subsequently kept it more alive in his memory. The testimony of Wegeler, Breuning, Romberg, Ries, has been cited to the point that Beethoven “was never without a love, and generally deeply engrossed in it.”

In Vienna (says Wegeler) at least as long as I lived there, Beethoven always had a love-affair on his hands, and occasionally made conquests which, though not impossible, might have been difficult of achievement to many an Adonis.... I will add that, so far as I know, every one of his sweethearts belonged to the higher social stations.

So, also, friends of Beethoven with whom Jahn conversed in 1852. Thus according to Carl Czerny he was said to have been in love with a Countess Keglevics, who was not generally considered handsome. The Sonata in E-flat, Op. 7 (dedicated to her), was called “Die Verliebte” (“The Maiden, or Woman, in Love”). Dr. Bertolini, friend and physician of Beethoven from 1806 to 1816, said: “Beethoven generally had a flame; the Countess Guicciardi, Mme. von Frank, Bettina Brentano and others.” He was not insensible to ladies fair and frail. Doležalek, a music teacher who came to Vienna in 1800 and was the master’s admirer and friend to the last, adds the particular that “he never showed that he was in love.”

In short, Beethoven’s experience was precisely that of many an impulsive man of genius, who for one cause or another never married and therefore never knew the calm and quiet, but unchanging, affection of happy conjugal life. One all-absorbing but temporary passion, lasting until its object is married to a more favored lover, is forgotten in another destined to end in like manner, until, at length, all faith in the possibility (for them) of a permanent, constant attachment to one person is lost. Such men after reaching middle age may marry for a hundred various motives of convenience, but rarely for love.

Upon this particular passion of Beethoven, the present writer labors under the disadvantage of being compelled to subordinate his imagination to his reason and to sacrifice flights of fancy to the duty of ascertaining and imparting the modicum of truth that underlies all this branch of Beethoven literature, of extracting the few grains of wheat from the immense mass of chaff. With what success remains to be seen.

When Schindler, in perusing the “Notizen,” came to the passages above quoted, with his usual agility in jumping at conclusions he decided at once, that Beethoven here refers to the Countess Julia Guicciardi, and so states in his book; probably hitting the truth nearer than on the next page, where he makes Fräulein Marie Koschak the object of Beethoven’s “autumnal love,” some half a dozen years before the two had ever met. In this case, however, there is no reason to suppose him mistaken.

RELATIONS WITH THE COUNTESS GUICCIARDI

On the 16th of November, 1801--the date of Beethoven’s letter--the Countess Guicciardi was just one week less than seventeen years of age. She is traditionally described as having had a good share of personal attractions, and is known to have been a fine looking woman even in advanced years. She appears to have possessed a mind of fair powers, cultivated and accomplished to the degree then common to persons of her rank; but it is not known that she was in any way eminently distinguished, unless for musical taste and skill as a pianist, which may perhaps be indicated in the dedication to her of a sonata by Kleinheinz as well as by Beethoven.

Julia Guicciardi’s near relationship to the Brunswicks would naturally throw her into the society of Beethoven immediately upon the transfer of her father from Trieste to Vienna; their admiration of his talents, their warm affection for him as a man, would awaken her curiosity to see him and create a most natural prejudice in his favor. Coming to the capital from a small, distant provincial town when hardly of an age to enter society, and finding herself so soon distinguished by the particular attentions and evident admiration of a man of Beethoven’s social position and fame, might well dazzle the imagination of a girl of sixteen, and dispose her, especially if she possessed more than common musical taste and talents, to return in a certain degree the affection proffered to her by the distinguished author of the Symphony, the Quartet, the Septet, the “Prometheus” music, and so many wonderful sonatas, by the unrivalled pianist, the generous, impulsive, enthusiastic artist, although unprepossessing in person and unable to offer either wealth or a title. There was romance in the affair. Besides these considerations there are traditions and reminiscences of old friends of the composer all tending to confirm the opinion of Schindler, that the “fascinating girl” was indeed the young Countess Guicciardi. That writer, however, knew nothing of the matter until twenty years afterwards; but what he learned came from Beethoven himself.

It happened, when the topic came up between them, “that, being in a public place where he did not like to trust himself to speak,” says Schindler, Beethoven also wrote his share in the conversation, so far as it related to this subject; hence his words may still be read in a Conversation Book of February, 1823, preserved in the Royal Library at Berlin. His statements have certainly gained nothing in clearness from his whim of writing them in part in bad French.

It is proper to state, before introducing the citation from this book, that the young lady married Count Wenzel Robert Gallenberg, a prolific composer of ballet and occasional music, on the 3rd of November, 1803. The young pair soon left Vienna for Italy and were in Naples in the spring of 1806; for Gallenberg was one of the composers of the music for the fêtes, on the occasion of Joseph Bonaparte’s assumption of the crown of the Two Sicilies. When the Neapolitan Barbaja took charge of the R. I. Opera at Vienna, toward the close of 1821, he made the Count an associate in the administration, and thus it happened that Schindler had occasion to call upon him with a message from Beethoven.

The Conversation Books of those years show, that the question of selling the opera, “Fidelio,” to various theatres, was one often discussed by Beethoven and his friends, and, also, that the author had no complete copy of the score. It thus became necessary to borrow one for the purpose of copying the whole or parts; and at this point we turn to the Conversation Book. Schindler, in the midst of a long series of remarks upon heterogeneous topics, expresses surprise that the Dresden theatre has never purchased “Fidelio,” and adds his opinion, that Weber will do all in his power to further Beethoven’s interest, both in regard to the opera and to the Mass in D. Then follows political news--Spain, England, etc.--and the sale or hypothecation by Dr. Bach of certain bank shares on which Beethoven wishes to raise money; and then:

A CONVERSATION ABOUT THE COUNTESS

_Schindler_: Now as to “Fidelio”; what shall, what can I do to expedite that?

_Beethoven_: Steiner has the score.

_Schindler_: I shall go to Count Gallenberg, who will lend it to you for a time with pleasure. It would be best if you were to have it copied at your own expense. You may ask 40 ducats. (After a farther remark or two he promises to see Gallenberg “to-morrow morning”; some pages farther is the report):

_Schindler_: Gallenberg presents his compliments; he will send the score, provided they have two copies. If this is not the case he will have the score copied for you. I am to call on him again in two days. (The conversation then turns upon copying certain songs and upon lithographing the Mass in D; after which):

_Schindler_: He (Gallenberg) did not inspire me with much respect to-day.

_Beethoven_: I was his invisible benefactor through others.

_Schindler_: He ought to know that, so that he might have more respect for you than he seems to have. (Kitchen affairs follow here for a space; then Beethoven takes the pencil and writes):

_Beethoven_: So it seems you did not find G. favorably disposed toward me; I am little concerned in the matter, but I should like to know what he said.

_Schindler_: He replied to me that he thought that you must have the score yourself; but when I assured him that you did not have it he said that its loss was a consequence of your irregular habits and many changes of lodgings. What affair is that of the public? And, moreover, who will care what such persons think? What have you decided to do in the matter at Steiner’s? To keep quiet still longer? Dr. Bach recently asked me about it. I thought you wanted to keep the score because you had none. Do you want to give the five-part fugue also for nothing? My dearest friend and master, that is too much generosity towards such unworthy persons. You will only be laughed at. (Steiner had bought some compositions of B. and not published them.)

_Beethoven_: (having asked Schindler if he had seen Gallenberg’s wife, proceeds): _J’étois bien aimé d’elle et plus que jamais son époux. Il étoit pourtant plutôt son amant que moi, mais par elle j’apprenois de son misère et je trouvais un homme de bien, qui me donnait la somme de 500 fl. pour le soulager. Il étoit toujours mon ennemi, c’étoit justement la raison, que je fusse tout le bien que possible._

_Schindler_: It was for this reason that he added “He is an intolerable fellow.” Probably because of pure gratitude. But forgive them, Lord, they know not what they do. _Est-ce qu’il y a longtemps qu’elle est mariée avec Mons. de Gallenberg?--Mad. la Comtesse? Était-elle riche? Elle a une belle figure jusqu’ici!_

_Beethoven_: _Elle est née Guicciardi. Elle étoit l’épouse de lui avant son voyage en Italie--arrivé à Vienne elle cherchoit moi pleurant, mais je la méprisois._[121]

_Schindler_: Hercules at the crossways!

_Beethoven_: And if I had wished to give my vital powers with that life, what would have remained for the nobler, the better (things)?

Reverence for the composer, and admiration for his compositions, must have led many who will read this to the perusal of the constantly accumulating literature of which Beethoven and his works are the subject; and they must remember the prominence accorded to the Guicciardi affair. Will they believe that all the _established_ facts, which have ever been made public, are exhausted in these pages already? This is literally true. All else is but conjecture or mistake. There is nothing in the present state of knowledge on this subject to relieve the great mass of turgid eloquence expended upon it from being described in one word as--nonsense. The foundation for a tragedy is certainly small in a case where the lover writes: “It is the first time that I feel as if marriage _might_ make me happy”; and immediately adds “now, of course, I could not marry!” because the gratification of his ambition was more to him than domestic life with the beloved one.

In November, 1852, Jahn had an interview with the Countess Gallenberg. On so delicate a topic as Beethoven’s passion for her fifty years before, reticence was natural; but had the affair in truth been of the importance that others have given it, some hint must have confessed it. Yet there is nothing of the kind in his notes of the conversation. Here they are:

Beethoven was her teacher; he had his music sent to her and was extremely severe until the correct interpretation was reached down to the smallest detail; he laid stress upon a light manner of playing; he easily became angry, threw down his music and tore it; he would take no pay but linen, although he was very poor, under the pretence that the Countess had sewed it. He also taught Princess Odescalchi and Baroness Erdmann; sometimes he went to his pupils, sometimes they came to him. He did not like to play his own compositions, but would only improvise. At the slightest disturbance he would get up and go away. Count Brunswick, who played the violoncello, adored him as did (also) his sisters, Therese and Countess Deym. Beethoven had given her (the Countess Guicciardi) the Rondo in G, but begged its return when he had to dedicate something to the Countess Lichnowsky, and then dedicated the Sonata to her. B. was very ugly, but noble, refined in feeling and cultured.

In this simple record the lady’s memory evidently mistakes by overrating the poverty of Beethoven at the time she was his pupil and in making him then so negligent in dress. “In his earlier years Beethoven dressed carefully, even elegantly; only later did he grow negligent, which he carried to the verge of uncleanliness,” says Grillparzer; and Czerny: “About the year 1813-’14, when B. looked well and strong, he also cared for his outward appearance.” But what a blow to all the supposed romantic significance is the short, prosaic account of the dedication of the C-sharp minor Sonata to her--a composition which was not a favorite with the composer himself. “Everybody is always talking about the C-sharp minor Sonata! Surely I have written better things. There is the Sonata in F-sharp major--that is something very different,” he once said to Czerny.

A CONJECTURAL OFFER OF MARRIAGE

There is but one well-authenticated fact to be added, namely, that Beethoven kept up his intercourse with the family Guicciardi certainly as late as May or June, 1823, that is, to within six months of the young lady’s marriage. A careful survey and comparison both of the published data and of the private traditions and hints gleaned during a residence of several years at Vienna, result in the opinion (an opinion, note, not a statement resting on competent evidence) that Beethoven at length decided to offer Countess Julia his hand; that she was not indisposed to accept it; and that one of her parents consented to the match, but the other, probably the father, refused to entrust the happiness of his daughter to a man without rank, fortune or permanent engagement; a man, too, of character and temperament so peculiar, and afflicted with the incipient stages of an infirmity which, if not arrested and cured, must deprive him of all hope of obtaining any high and remunerative official appointment and at length compel him to abandon his career as the great pianoforte virtuoso. As the Guicciardis themselves were not wealthy, prudence forbade such a marriage. Be all this as it may, this much is certain: Beethoven did not marry the Countess Julia Guicciardi; Count Wenzel Robert Gallenberg