It is now desirable to disregard the strict chronological sequence of incident and dispose, so far as is possible, of the history of the great Mass in D prior to the adoption of a new plan by which Beethoven hoped to make it a source of extraordinary revenue. So far as it affects Beethoven’s character as a man not always scrupulous in his observance of business obligations, the story does not need to extend beyond the year 1822. Careful readers of this biography can easily recall a number of lapses from high ideals of candor and justice in his treatment of his friends and of a nice sense of honor and honesty in his dealings with his publishers; but at no time have these blemishes been so numerous or so patent as they are in his negotiations for the publication of the Missa Solemnis—a circumstance which is thrown into a particularly strong light by the frequency and vehemence of his protestations of moral rectitude in the letters which have risen like ghosts to accuse him, and by the strange paradox that the period is one in which his artistic thoughts and imagination dwelt in the highest regions to which they ever soared. He was never louder in his protestations of business morality than when he was promising the mass to four or more publishers practically at the same time, and giving it to none of them; never more apparently frank than when he was making ignoble use of a gentleman, whom he himself described as one of the best friends on earth, as an intermediary between himself and another friend to whom he was bound by business ties and childhood associations which challenged confidence; never more obsequious (for even this word must now be used in describing his attitude towards Franz Brentano) than after he had secured a loan from that friend in the nature of an advance on a contract which he never carried out; never more apparently sincere than when he told one publisher (after he had promised the mass to another) that he should be particularly sorry if he were unable to give the mass into his hands; never more forcefully and indignantly honest in appearance than when he informed still another publisher that the second had importuned him for the mass (“bombarded” was the word), but that he had never even deigned to answer his letters. But even this is far from compassing the indictment; the counts are not even complete when it is added that in a letter he states that the publisher whom he had told it would have been a source of sorrow not to favor had never even been contemplated amongst those who might receive the mass; that he permitted the friend to whom he first promised the score to tie up some of his capital for a year and more so that “good Beethoven” should not have to wait a day for his money; that after promising the mass to the third publisher he sought to create the impression that it was not the Missa Solemnis that had been bargained for, but one of two masses which he had in hand.

It is not only proper, but a duty, to give all possible weight to the circumstances which can be, ought to be, must indeed be pleaded in extenuation of his conduct; but the facts can not be obscured or ignored without distorting the picture of the man Beethoven as this biography has consistently striven from the beginning to present it. For English and American readers, moreover, the shock of surprise will be lessened by a recollection of Beethoven’s first transactions in London, which more than five years before had called out the advice of the English publishers to Neate for God’s sake not to buy anything of Beethoven! As for the rest it is right to remember that at this time many of the sources of Beethoven’s income had dried up. He was no longer able to offer his publishers symphonies in pairs, or sonatas and chamber compositions in groups. He produced laboriously and, in the case of compositions which were dear to his heart, with infinite and untiring care and insatiable desire for perfection. Engrossed in such works, he gave no thought to pecuniary reward; but, rudely disturbed by material demands, he sought the first means at hand to supply the need. Hence his resurrection of works composed and laid aside years before; his acceptance of commissions which he was never able to perform; his promise of speedy delivery of works scarcely begun; his acceptance of advances on contracts which he could not fulfil; his strange confidence (this we feel we are justified in assuming) in his ability to bring forth works of magnitude in time to keep his obligations even when the works which he had in mind had already been there for years; his ill-health which brought with it loss of creative vitality, of fecundity in ideas and facility in execution in inverse ratio to the growth of his artistic ideals; the obsession of his whole being by his idolatrous love for his nephew and the mental distress and monetary sacrifice which his self-assumed obligation entailed and which compelled him to become the debtor of his publishers lest he encroach upon the emoluments of the Vienna Congress which he had solemnly consecrated to his foster-son. Let all these things be remembered when the story of his shortcomings is told.[42]

And now let the story of the Mass be resumed from the point where it was dropped in the preceding chapter; with it will be found statements bearing on a few other more or less inconsequential compositions.

On May 13, 1822, Simrock reminds Beethoven that a year has passed since he promised to deliver the score into his hands by the end of April. Since October 25, 1820, he (Simrock) had kept 100 Louis d’ors on deposit in Frankfort so that there would be no delay in the payment of the remuneration. On March 19, Beethoven had written that he had been sick abed for six weeks and was not yet entirely well. He had told the publisher to rest easy in his mind, that being the sole purpose of the letter. The publisher had gone to the autumn fair of 1821 and to the Easter fair of 1822 and asked Brentano for the mass; but been told that it had not been received. He begs for a few words on the subject. It would seem as if Simrock had preserved his temper very well. The letter brings another evidence of his unchanged good will, He had resolved at an earlier period to publish the six symphonies which were in his catalogue in a new edition, but had not done so because it would not pay. Now, he said, he wanted to rear a monument to his worthy old friend and had brought out the scores in a style which he hoped the composer would deem worthy. What Beethoven said in reply to this letter is not known, his answer not having been given to the world; it can be surmised, however, from the recital given to Brentano in a letter from Beethoven dated May 19. He had been troubled by “gout in the chest” for four months, he says, and able to do but little work; nevertheless the Mass would be in Frankfort by the end of the next month, that is, by the end of June, 1822. There was another reason for the delay. Cardinal Rudolph, strongly disposed in favor of his music at all times, did not want the Mass published so early and had returned to the composer the score and parts only three days before. Here we have a very significant statement. What may be called the official copy of the Mass in D was formally presented to Archduke Rudolph on March 19, 1823; here, ten months earlier, he speaks of a score and parts which the Archduke had returned to him three days before. The Mass, therefore, must have had what, for the time being (Beethoven never considered it finished so long as it was in his hands), was looked upon as a definitive shape at the time when Beethoven promised to send it to Brentano for Simrock. The Archduke returned it, as Beethoven says, so that the publication might not be hindered. How long it had been in the hands of the Archduke no one can tell. Now, said Beethoven to Brentano, the score will be copied again, carefully examined, which would take some time owing to his ill health, but it would be in Frankfort at the end of June “at the latest,” by which time Simrock must be ready to make payment. He had received better offers from Vienna and elsewhere, but had rejected all of them because he had given his word to Simrock and would abide by the agreement even if he lost money, trusting to make his losses good by other sales to Simrock who, moreover, might be disposed to make a contract for the Complete Edition. Brentano communicated with Simrock at once and received a letter from the publisher on May 29 expressing regret that sickness had been partly responsible for the delay. He had been expecting the Mass every day for more than a year, during which time the money had lain with Heinrich Verhuven because he did not want Beethoven to wait a single day for it.

Thus on May 19, Beethoven tells Brentano that he will keep the faith with Simrock even at a sacrifice. On March 1, however, he had written to Schlesinger in Berlin:

Schlesinger, as we learn from a letter dated July 2, 1822, had received letters from Beethoven under date of April 9, May 29 and June (he mistakenly says May 1). He answers the three at once, excusing his delay on the ground that he had attended the fair in Leipsic, where he fell ill, and had remained under the weather for several weeks after his return to Berlin. Meanwhile business had accumulated. He accepts Beethoven’s terms for the mass and the two songs:

By a coincidence Schlesinger’s son, who had established himself in business in Paris, wrote to Beethoven on the same day and asked him if a third movement of the Pianoforte Sonata in C minor (Op. 111), which he was publishing, had not been forgotten at the copyists. He, like his father a little later, evidently suspected that they had not received as much music, measured in detached movements, as they had paid for; they missed a rondo finale! The incident may have amused, or (which is more likely) even angered Beethoven; but it can scarcely account for the fact that Beethoven resolved about this time to have nothing more to do with Schlesinger père. On July 26 he writes to Peters of Leipsic, with whom he has now entered into negotiations and to whom he has offered the Mass, “In no event will Schlesinger ever get anything more from me; he has played me a Jewish trick, but aside from that he is not among those who might have received the Mass.” When Beethoven was conducting the negotiations with Schott and Sons in Mayence which resulted in the firm’s getting the work, he recurred to the Schlesingers in a letter of January 22, 1824, and said: “Neither is Schlesinger to be trusted, for he takes where he can. Both père et fils bombarded me for the mass, but I did not deign to answer either of them, since after thinking them over I had cast them out long before.” Beethoven’s threats were frequently mere brutum fulmen; the Schlesingers, père et fils, remained his friends to the end and got two of the last Quartets.

Both Simrock and Schlesinger are now waiting for Beethoven to send them the Mass and the fee is waiting for the composer at Frankfort. Meanwhile negotiations have been taken up with a newcomer in the field, who, however, is but trying to renew an association which had begun more than 29 years earlier. Before entering upon this phase of the history of the Mass it seems well to dispose finally of the Simrock incident.[43] On August 22, 1822, Simrock wrote to Beethoven again. Beethoven’s answer followed on September 13 and, as it contains more than a mere implication why he refused to abide by his contract (a point that has been a matter more or less of speculation from the time when the negotiations ceased till now), it is given in full here:

This letter can scarcely be called ingenuous by the most zealous of Beethoven’s defenders. Aside from the fact that he had closed the contract, had received an advance on the sum deposited and told Brentano that he would keep his promise even at a sacrifice to himself, the 1000 florins which he now asks Simrock to pay was not the minimum sum which other publishers had offered but the maximum sum which he had asked and all of them had agreed to pay—which, indeed, B. Schott and Sons did pay a year and a half later. Under the circumstances it is scarcely to be wondered at if the appeal to Simrock’s generosity fell on stony soil; but we do not know that it did. The letter was evidently answered by Simrock, who, despairing of ever getting the Mass, may have suggested that he would accept other works in lieu of it, for on March 10, 1823, Beethoven writes again saying (as he had said to Peters in November, 1822) that he should surely receive a mass, for he had written two and was only undecided which one to send. He asked Simrock to be patient till Easter, when he would send one of them to Brentano. He intended also to write a mass for the Emperor. As to other works, he offered the overture to “The Consecration of the House,” the music to “The Ruins of Athens,” the overture to “King Stephen,” some songs and “Kleinigkeiten” for the pianoforte. Only for the new overture did he fix a price (50 ducats), but he added: “You will surely receive one of these two grand masses which are already composed; only be patient till after Easter, by which time I shall have decided which to send.” This is the last letter between Beethoven and Simrock which has been found. It leaves the composer promising a mass instead of delivering the Mass, and that promise unfulfilled;—of a necessity, for the work, though described as “already composed,” was never written.

In 1814 C. F. Peters had purchased the Bureau de Musique founded in 1798 by Hoffmeister and Kühnel, publishers of a number of Beethoven’s compositions, including the First Symphony, between 1800 and 1805. On May 18, 1822, Peters addressed a letter to Beethoven in which he said that he had long wished to publish some of his compositions but had refrained from applying to him because he did not wish to offend the Viennese publishers; seeing now, however, that he was going outside with his compositions and giving them “even to the Jew Schlesinger,” he would no longer give heed to such considerations. He had spoken to Steiner on the subject at the last fair, who had offered no objections, had, indeed, said that he would be glad if he (Peters) got the works instead of Schlesinger, and had offered his services as mediary between him and Beethoven, and asked for a list of compositions which he wanted. Thereupon he had given Steiner such a list: symphonies, pianoforte quartets and trios, pianoforte solos “among which there might be small pieces,” songs, etc.—anything, in short, which Beethoven should send him would be welcome, for he wanted honor, not profit, from the association. Beethoven replied on June 5:

He now opened his budget of wares: the largest work was a Mass—many had striven for it, “100 weighty Louis d’ors” had been offered for it, but he had demanded at least 1,000 florins Convention Coin, for which sum he would also prepare the pianoforte score; variations on a waltz (“there are many”) for pianoforte—30 ducats in gold; a comic air with orchestra on Goethe’s “Mit Mädeln sich vertragen,” and another air of the same genre, 16 ducats each;[44] several rather extended songs with pianoforte accompaniment, among them a little Italian cantata with recitative,[45] 12 ducats each; there were also recitatives to some of the German songs; 8 ducats each for songs; an elegy for four voices and string quartet accompaniment,[46] 24 ducats; a chorus of Dervishes with full orchestra, 20 ducats; a march for orchestra written for the tragedy “Tarpeia,” with arrangement for pianoforte, 12 ducats; Romance for violin solo and orchestra,[47] 15 ducats; Grand Trio for 2 oboi and 1 English horn,[48] which might be transcribed for other instruments, 30 ducats; four military marches with percussion (“Turkish music”) prices on application; bagatelles, or trifles for pianoforte, prices on application.

The copy of the letter as printed contains the words here: “All these works are ready,” but they are wanting in the original draft. Beethoven now goes on with a list of compositions which Peters “might have soon”; a sonata for pianoforte solo,[49] 40 ducats; a string quartet, 50 ducats. More than anything else, however, he was desirous to have a complete edition of his works, as he wished to look after the publication in his lifetime. He had received a number of applications, but could not, or would not, meet all the conditions. With some necessary help he thought such an edition of his works might be brought out in two years, possibly in one-and-a-half; a new work was to be added to each class, “to the Variations a new set of variations, to the Sonatas a new sonata,” etc., “and for all these together I ask 10,000 florins Convention Coin.” He deplores the fact that he is no business man; he wishes that matters were different than they are, but he is forced to act as he does by competition, and begs that secrecy be observed touching the negotiations, to guard against trouble with other publishers.

He was not kept waiting for an answer;—Peters’ reply is dated June 15. He regrets to hear of Steiner’s duplicity, but his conduct may have been harmless in intention and caused by his weakness. The works which he wanted and of which he had given a list to Steiner were a quartet for strings, a trio of the same kind, a concert overture for full orchestra, songs and some small solos for pianoforte “such as capriccios, divertissements,” etc. Then he takes up Beethoven’s detailed offer of compositions:

For the present, Peters adds, he does not want to publish larger vocal works by Beethoven nor the Mass singly but along with other works, to show the Viennese publishers that there is a contract between him and Beethoven which obliges the latter to send him compositions. To that end he asks for some songs, a few bagatelles for pianoforte solo, the four military marches; he would be glad to take also the new string quartet, but 50 ducats is beyond his means. Beethoven is at liberty to tell Steiner that he had applied to Beethoven with his knowledge and consent. Beethoven’s answer (incorrectly dated July instead of June 26) says:

Peters answers this letter on July 3. He is willing to pay 40 ducats for the songs and marches and to remit part of the honorarium in advance. Beethoven’s complaint about his financial affairs distresses him and he would like to help him. “It is wrong that a man like you is obliged to think about money matters. The great ones of the earth should long ago have placed you in a position free from care, so that you would no longer have to live on art but only for art.” Before this letter was received Beethoven had written a second and supplementary reply to the letter of June 13; it is dated July 6. He had reread his letter and discovered that Peters wanted some of the bagatelles and a quartet for strings. For the former, “among which are some of considerable length—they might be published separately under the title ‘Kleinigkeiten’ (Trifles) No. 1, 2, etc.”—he asked 8 ducats each. The quartet was not fully completed, work on it having been interrupted. Here it was difficult to lower the prices, as such works were the most highly paid for—he might almost say, to the shame of the general taste, which in art frequently falls below that of private taste. “I have written you everything concerning the Mass, and that is settled.” On July 12, Peters writes that he does not know how long the bagatelles are and so can not tell whether they are to be printed separately or together; but he asks that a number be sent to him together with word as to how many of such small pieces Beethoven has on hand, as he might take them all. As for songs he would prefer to have some in the style of “Adelaide” or “Schloss Markenstein.” The honorarium for the compositions which were to be sent now would amount to 200 or 300 florins in pieces of 20, but as he could not determine the exact amount he asked Beethoven to collect the amount from Meiss (Meisl) Brothers, bankers, on exhibition of receipt and bill of shipment. It was all the same to him whether he collected the money now or later; it was waiting and at Beethoven’s disposal. In this manner, so convenient for Beethoven, he would make all his payments for manuscripts purchased. On August 3 Beethoven writes:

Peters was prompt in his remittance of the money which was to be subject to Beethoven’s order; Beethoven, though less prompt in getting it, was yet ahead of his delivery of the manuscripts for which the money was to pay. Singularly enough, the incident which provides for us knowledge of the time when the money was received by Peters’s agent served as evidence in Beethoven’s excuse for drawing the money without keeping his part of the agreement. On July 25, about a fortnight after the date of Peters’s letter of advice, Piringer, associate conductor of the Concerts spirituels, who was on terms of intimacy with Beethoven, wrote him as follows:

This letter Beethoven sent to Peters from Baden on September 13 in evidence of his presumption that Piringer, who was a daily caller at the Steiner establishment, had gossipped about the relations between him and Peters. He was sorry that Peters had sent the money so early, but fearing talk he had collected the money. He would send all the little things soon. He had been pressed by the Cardinal, who had come to Baden on the 15th and on whom he had to attend several times a week; and work had been forced upon him by the opening of the Josephstadt Theatre; also he wanted to write new trios to some of the marches and revise other works, but illness and too much other employment had prevented. “You see from this at least that I am not an author for the sake of money.... You will recall that I begged you to keep everything away from Steiner. Why? That I will reveal to you in time. I hope that God will protect me against the wiles of this wicked man Steiner.” On November 22, Beethoven writes again: he had been expecting reproaches for his negligence but though he had delivered nothing he had received the honorarium. It looked wrong (“offensive” is his word), but he was sure that all would be set right could they but be together a few minutes. All the music intended for Peters had been laid aside except the songs, the selection of which had not yet been made; as a reward for waiting, Peters should receive one more than the stipulated number. He could deliver more than the four bagatelles agreed on, as he had nine or ten extra ones on hand.

Now there enters a new element into the story of the Mass; let Beethoven introduce it in his own words: “This is the state of affairs with regard to the Mass: I completed one long ago, but another is not yet finished. There will always be gossip about me, and you must have been misled about it. I do not know which of the two you will receive.” The gossip against which Beethoven warned Peters, it is safe to assume, related to the compositions which the latter had purchased but not received; in great likelihood rumors about the Mass had reached Leipsic. Peters was in communication with Steiner and others; and that he knew that the mass had been planned for the installation of Archduke Rudolph as Archbishop of Olmütz he had indicated when he expressed the belief that it was something “right excellent” because it had been composed for an occasion. The mass which Beethoven had agreed to deliver by the end of July could therefore have been none other than the Mass in D. It is deserving of mention, however, that there is evidence that Beethoven was thinking of more than one mass at the time—in fact, that he had thoughts of three. In a sketchbook of the period is found a memorandum: “The Kyrie in the second mass with wind-instruments and organ only”;[51] and in another place there are six measures of a theme for a Dona nobis with the superscription “Mass in C-sharp minor.” To this Dona there is still another reference or two of a later date; but that is all. It is likely that the second mass was intended for the Emperor, as we shall see later; Beethoven himself says that he had thoughts of a third.

Peters is getting importunate, and on December 20 Beethoven writes to him that nothing intended for him is entirely ready; there had been delays in copying and sending, but he had no time to explain. The songs and marches would be sent “next week” and there would be six bagatelles instead of four, and he asks that payment be made for the extra two on receipt. He had so many applications for his works that he could not attend to them all: “Were it not that my income brings in nothing[52] I should compose only grand symphonies, church music or at the outside quartets in addition.” Of smaller works Peters might have variations for two oboes and English horn on a theme from “Don Giovanni”—Da ci la mano wrote Beethoven, meaning Là ci darem la mano—and a Gratulatory Minuet;[53] he would like Peters’ opinion about the complete edition. In a letter with the double date February 15 and 18, 1823, Peters is informed that three songs,[54] six bagatelles, one march and a tattoo had been sent on the preceding Saturday—the tattoo in place of one of the promised marches:

“Some time” before March 10, 1823, Beethoven repaid the loan of 300 florins to Brentano, sending the money through Geimüller. In his letter of thanks on that date he encloses a letter to Simrock, unsealed evidently, and says to his friend, “You see from it the state of things concerning the Mass.” What that state was as it presented itself to the mind of Beethoven we have as yet no means of knowing; but we know that Peters was still kept in a state of expectation, for on March 20, 1823, Beethoven writes:

So far as Peters is concerned the matter must be dropped for a space; he published none of the works sent to him, did not receive the Mass, and, refusing to take a quartet in return for the 360 florins which Beethoven collected in advance, placing the blame on him, got the money back from Beethoven some time after November, 1825. Peters did not get the Mass; nor did Simrock; nor did Schlesinger; nor did Probst, another Leipsic publisher with whom Beethoven carried on negotiations for it and the Ninth Symphony, as will appear later; nor did Artaria, Beethoven’s old publisher who, in all likelihood, was one of the “two other men” of whom Beethoven wrote in the letter last quoted. On August 23, 1822, Artaria received a letter which, as it seems to stand alone so far as the Mass is concerned, may well be printed in full:

It must long ago have been observed by the studious reader of these pages that a great deal of illuminative material in the life-story of Beethoven is found in the correspondence between the composer and his publishers; but these letters in the later years of his life, and especially in the period with which we are now concerned, were but sorry guides to the state of forwardness in which compositions found themselves at any stated time. Frequently they offer for publication works which, so far as they had been fixed on paper at all, existed only in the form of detached sketches; also some which, so far as we know, existed only in the plans or purposes of the composer of which the letters themselves are the only surviving records. It seems also to be a fair deduction from them that Beethoven’s attitude towards his publishers with reference to them depended to a considerable extent on his temporary financial condition, and sometimes they are an index of that consecration to high artistic ideals of which he remains an unapproached exemplar. The Mass in D is almost always ready for delivery when he is in financial extremities; but when he has helped himself with loans or the collection of advances, or the sale of old manuscripts or potboilers, his insatiable desire to revise, amend and improve his great work takes possession of him, and the vast amount of rewriting and recopying thus entailed pushes its ultimate completion into the future and precipitates another period of distress. He borrowed money from Brentano on the strength of the deposit which Simrock had made in Frankfort; collected the honorarium which Peters had advanced on the purchase of long undelivered songs, bagatelles and marches; postponed the evil day of liquidation with Steiner; finally borrowed money from his brother Johann, and to secure the debt practically hypothecated to him all the manuscripts which lay finished and unfinished in his desk by placing their sale in his hands, subject to his instructions and advice. This circumstance brings Johann van Beethoven back significantly into this history and invites an inquiry into his character and his conduct with reference to his famous brother. That, contemptible as his character may have been, he has yet been maligned and his conduct towards Beethoven falsified by Schindler and the romance writers who have accepted Schindler’s misrepresentations and embellished them with the products of their own unscrupulous imaginations, is scarcely open to doubt.

Something of the earlier history of Johann van Beethoven has been told in the chapters of this biography which deal with the incidents of the years 1808 and 1812. The brother, whose association with a woman obnoxious to him because of her frivolousness and moral laxity Beethoven sought to prevent by police methods and thereby only precipitated a marriage, had grown rich enough in the interim to buy some farm property near Gneixendorf and to make his winter residence in Vienna. There we find him in the spring of 1822 living in the house of his brother-in-law, a baker named Obermayer, at the intersection of Koth- and Pfarrgassen. Thenceforward for a number of years, because of his relationship to his famous brother, his idiosyncrasies, habits and public behavior (and to a smaller number, the conduct of his wife), he became a conspicuous and rather comical figure in Vienna. Gerhard von Breuning described him thus:[55]

Breuning also says in his book “Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause,” that he was sometimes seen driving in the Prater with two or four horses in an old-fashioned phaeton, either handling the reins himself or lolling carelessly in the seat with two gallooned servants on the box. Beethoven’s friends used to ridicule his brother to his face. In a Conversation Book of 1822-23 Count Moritz Lichnowsky writes: “Everybody thinks him a fool; we call him only the Chevalier—all the world says of him that his only merit is that he bears your name.” No doubt there was something, even a good deal, of the parvenu in Johann’s character. He had neither the intellectual nor moral poise to fit him for the place which he thought he was entitled to fill by virtue of his wealth and his relationship to one of the most famous men of his age. Nor could he command respect from a social point of view. How far from above reproach his wife was, Beethoven showed by his unjustifiable conduct when he sought to have her ejected from Linz in order to separate her from his brother. That conduct Ludwig’s letters, soon to be quoted, show had been condoned by him, but a memorandum found among Schindler’s papers discloses that her conduct in Vienna was such that Beethoven again thought of invoking the police.[56]