Beethoven Page 2

  Where Ludwig senior was correct was that Maria Magdalena was already widowed. More than that, she had experienced more sadness than a teenage woman should have had to bear. At sixteen she married a certain Johann Leym, and bore him a son. The child died in infancy, and her husband died not long after. She was thus a widow who had lost a child before she was nineteen.

  Ludwig senior might have been influenced by the fact that Maria Magdalena’s father had died many years before, leaving her mother as the family breadwinner, working as a cook at the court. Her mother was clearly already in fragile mental health, because she suffered a psychological breakdown soon after the marriage. She had one other surviving child, a son (four other children having died in infancy), and there was patently no prospect of a substantial dowry coming with the intended bride.

  It seems an accumulation of unfortunate circumstances, combined with his own prejudices, turned Ludwig senior against the marriage, to such an extent that he refused to attend the ceremony ‘unless the thing were quickly over with’.

  The Keverich family was apparently no more enthusiastic about the union; this, if nothing else, cemented the absence of any dowry. The evidence for this is that the wedding took place in Bonn, rather than the bride’s home town, which would have been normal, and there is no evidence that any member of Maria Magdalena’s family attended. One can imagine that any pride they might have had that she was marrying into the family of the Kapellmeister was undone by Johann’s documented lack of charm (admittedly more evident in later years), and his clear obsession with money.

  This latter attribute is evidenced by the fact that four months after the marriage a petition was sent to the Elector of Trier on Johann’s mother-in-law’s behalf, reporting that ‘through an ill-turned marriage of her only daughter up to 300 Thalers disappeared’. This is a barely concealed accusation that Johann relieved his mother-in-law of the bulk of her savings, although it is likely the petition was deliberately written in an exaggerated way to increase Frau Keverich’s plight. It is quite possible that this transfer of money, however it took place, occurred before the marriage, or at least that the process started then, which would be another reason for the Keverich family to be against the union.2

  Exactly what took Johann van Beethoven up the Rhine to the fortress town of Ehrenbreitstein in the first place is not known, but one can imagine his father’s frustration at the frequent absences as he pursued a young woman with an unenviable history before she was out of her teens from another town a good thirty-five miles away. With both families set against the marriage, we can assume that the wedding of the couple who were to be the parents of Ludwig van Beethoven was a small and one-sided affair, attended reluctantly by Ludwig senior, whose tears at his own memories might have hardened his heart still further.

  The marriage took place in Bonn on 12 November 1767, and it would not be long before more heartache ensued, first for Maria Magdalena and then for both her and her husband. After the marriage Johann moved out of the large well-appointed apartment he had shared with his father, and rented a small apartment at the back of a building in the Bonngasse for himself and his wife. At the same time his mother-in-law’s already precarious mental health went into sharp decline. The same petition that cited the loss of her savings stated that she had begun to live a life of such penitence that she stopped eating and could not be expected to live long. Sometimes, it reported, she lay outside the church all night in the bitterest cold, wind, and rain. She died less than a year after her daughter’s marriage, and it must be the case that Maria Magdalena felt considerable guilt that her choice of husband, not to mention her departure from her home town, had caused her mother so much distress.

  In the weeks before her mother’s death, Maria Magdalena would have realised that she was pregnant. One can only imagine what the knowledge that her mother would never see her grandchild would have done to Maria Magdalena’s already damaged emotions.

  Johann and Maria Magdalena van Beethoven’s first child was baptised Ludwig Maria on 2 April 1769. One can envision Kapellmeister Beethoven’s joy at the arrival of his first grandchild, augmented by the couple’s decision to choose him as godfather, meaning that the child carried his name. For the couple, too, the arrival of a son after almost a year and a half of marriage must have been a cause of enormous family celebration, and one can imagine the stern grandfather melting towards the daughter-in-law he had not wanted to see become a member of the Beethoven family.

  The infant Ludwig Maria van Beethoven died within a week of baptism. Even in an era when infant death was common, the loss of a child who carried so much hope for reconciliation must have been a catastrophe for the family. For Maria Magdalena it meant that she had been widowed and had lost two infants before she was twenty-three years of age.

  Approximately a year later she fell pregnant again. As the months passed she must have been overwhelmed with trepidation about the child’s survival. As on the previous two occasions she safely gave birth, and on 17 December 1770 the infant was baptised Ludwig after his grandfather, who was once again godfather. Like his grandfather, he was given the sole Christian name of Ludwig.

  There were now two Ludwig van Beethovens in the family, and as each day passed the child grew stronger. Correspondingly there occurred a remarkable change in the demeanour of the elder Ludwig. He began to be drawn towards his daughter-in-law and soon the two had established a close and loving relationship. Unfortunately this was due at least partly to a shared disappointment in Johann.

  As a boy Johann van Beethoven had shown considerable musical talent, to the extent that his father removed him from school and undertook his musical training himself (a pattern that was to be repeated when Johann, in turn, removed his son Ludwig from school to concentrate on music). He sang in the court chapel both as boy treble and after his voice had broken, and at the age of twenty-four, being proficient in singing as well as on the clavier and violin, he obtained salaried employment.

  Three years later Johann was married, and things started to go downhill almost immediately. It is evident that he developed a taste for alcohol. He had no shortage of drinking companions. The fish dealer Klein lived across the street, and the two men would lounge in the window making faces at each other, prior to a night’s drinking. The Fischers reported that Johann van Beethoven would spend many an evening in the tavern, often not arriving home until the middle of the night.

  It cannot have helped that soon after Johann moved into his first marital home his father followed, taking an apartment just a few doors away in the same street. Ludwig van Beethoven senior was clearly a dominant, even domineering, figure, and was intolerant of his son’s behaviour. He mocked him continuously. ‘Johann der Läufer,’ he called him. ‘Johann the sprinter. Keep running, keep running. You will some day run to your final destination.’

  It can’t have been easy living up to his father’s expectations, but whether his own inadequacies preceded his father’s intolerance, or the other way around, it’s impossible to say. Similarly, whether his penchant for alcohol was a cause of his father’s disappointment in him, or a form of escapism from it, must also remain a matter for conjecture.

  What is beyond doubt is that an event that shook the Beethoven family to its foundations offered Johann the opportunity to turn his life round. On Christmas Eve 1773 Kapellmeister Beethoven, who had suffered a stroke earlier in the year, died at the age of sixty-one. Johann saw himself as the natural successor and the next holder of the highest musical position in Bonn.

  Unfortunately for him, he was unsuited for it in every respect. His dissolute habits were well known and unfitting to such a high office at court. There had also been a noticeable deterioration in his vocal skills, no doubt caused by alcohol, tobacco, and late nights. His skills on clavier and violin were not exceptional, and he had no compositions to his name, unlike other candidates for the office.

  It is dangerous to apply modern-day sensibilities to events of more than two centuries ago, but
certainly a reading of Johann’s petition for the job as Kapellmeister suggests a confused, even negative, attitude:

  Will your Electoral Grace be pleased to hear that my father has passed away from this world, to whom it was granted to serve His Electoral Grace(s) for 42 years, as Kapellmeister with great honour, whose position I have been found capable of filling, but nevertheless I would not venture to offer my capacity to Your Electoral Grace, but since the death of my father has left me in needy circumstances, my salary not sufficing, I am compelled to draw on the savings of my father ... Your Electoral Grace is therefore humbly implored to make an allowance from the 400 rth now saved for an increase of my salary ... [my italics]

  It hardly reads like an appropriate job application, seeming on the one hand to take it for granted that the job is his, and on the other pleading for a salary increase. In any event he did not get the job. There was only one Kapellmeister Beethoven.

  OF CRUCIAL IMPORTANCE to the future development of his son is that these traumatic events were witnessed by the infant Ludwig van Beethoven. How much comprehension a child of three can have is impossible to determine, particularly at such a distance in time. But, with the proviso that this is largely conjecture, we might assume the infant would at least pick up signs of distress in his mother, and probably too be aware that it is his father’s behaviour that is causing it.

  Ludwig was one week past his third birthday when his grandfather died, and of this at least we can be sure beyond any doubt: the loss rocked him profoundly, and it is something he never truly came to terms with. He idolised – and idealised – his grandfather and spoke highly of him for the rest of his life. Certainly when his own musical talents began to emerge, he would quickly have become aware of his grandfather’s considerable achievements, at the same time no doubt witnessing the decline in his father’s.

  Johann drove his son hard in the quest to develop his musical talent

  Exactly how early Ludwig’s musical talents began to emerge is not known, but by the age of four he was being taught clavier and violin by his father, and so some special talent in the child must by then have been evident. There is considerable anecdotal evidence that Johann drove Ludwig hard, and more than one witness reports seeing the small boy standing on a footstool in front of the clavier in tears. Others reported seeing the father using physical violence, even shutting the child up in the cellar. These accounts were given many years after the event, by which time Beethoven had become famous throughout Europe, so it is possible some exaggeration had crept in. We can, though, be relatively sure that at the very least Johann van Beethoven drove his son hard in the quest to develop his musical talent.

  By 1776 Johann van Beethoven had moved his family back into the Fischer house on the Rheingasse, where he had lived with his father before marriage, this time into a spacious apartment on the second floor. There were to be later moves, but this was the house in which Ludwig van Beethoven spent the greater part of his youth, and where he felt most at home.

  On 26 March 1778 there occurred a remarkable event in the early life of Ludwig van Beethoven, one that has given rise to much myth and speculation surrounding the actions of his father.

  Johann staged a public concert featuring one of his singing pupils, and his son Ludwig. Here is the advertisement he put in the newspaper:

  Today, 26 March 1778, in the musical concert room in the Sternengasse, the Electoral Court Tenorist, Beethoven, will have the honour to produce ... his little son of six years, [who will perform] various clavier concertos and trios ... Tickets may be had at the Akademiesaal ...

  Do you spot the mistake, and, more importantly, is it deliberate? In March 1778 Ludwig van Beethoven was seven years and three months old. So why might Johann van Beethoven, on an important occasion such as this, have stated his son’s age incorrectly?

  There are two possible explanations, which I shall call the ‘conspiracy theory’ and the ‘kind theory’. The conspiracy theory runs like this. Johann van Beethoven deliberately falsified his son’s age because he wanted to make him appear younger than he was. This would make his musical skills all the more impressive, leading – Johann hoped – to favourable comparisons with the boy Mozart. It was well known that Mozart’s father had taken him on tour as a child, to wide acclaim and the amassing of substantial payments. The fact that Ludwig’s birth certificate had disappeared was no doubt because Johann had deliberately destroyed the evidence.

  The kind theory absolves Johann from deliberate falsification. It points out that there was a general laxity in keeping family records at that time, that on no other known occasion did Johann make an error in his son’s age, and that his own birth certificate had vanished, as well as his son’s, pointing to his general carelessness with paperwork. On this occasion he simply made a mistake.

  Knowing what we know of Johann van Beethoven, it is hard to be charitable, particularly in the light of the deliberate dishonesty that was to come a few years later. It is clear that he recognised his son’s remarkable talent very early, and the fact that he put him in front of a paying audience at such a tender age is evidence of his intention to earn money through him. We know that the Beethoven family was short of funds from Johann’s impassioned plea to the Elector for an increase in salary. Even if he exaggerated the poverty, which is likely, it is still beyond doubt that they were not flush, and that this situation was compounded by Johann’s profligate lifestyle.

  I subscribe to the conspiracy theory. Is it really likely that a father would not know how old his oldest son was? If he was in doubt, wouldn’t he have checked with his wife? Or if he didn’t want to do that, he could have left the age out of the advertisement altogether. I think it is beyond reasonable doubt that Johann van Beethoven deliberately falsified Ludwig’s age to impress the audience all the more with his talent.

  Future events lend weight to this. Beethoven appeared confused about his age for much of his life. His second published work (of which more later) contains the words on the title page, ‘composed by Ludwig van Beethoven, aged eleven years’. It was 1783, and he was in fact twelve. Well into adulthood the confusion remained. In his twenties there is evidence that he believed he was two years older than he actually was. In his mid-thirties he clearly believed he was two years younger than he was. Living in Vienna, he asked friends back in Bonn to send him copies of his baptismal certificate, since he was considering marriage. When the first copy arrived, he refused to accept the date, claiming his friend had mistaken him for his elder brother Ludwig, who had died at a week old. The second copy also failed to convince him – he wrote ‘1772’ on the back of it. This in spite of the fact that he must surely have surmised that if he really had been born in 1772, just one year before his beloved grandfather died, he would have had no memories of him at all.

  Was he confused, delusional, or just not interested in the facts? Or did his father’s falsification so affect him that he could never quite be confident of his age? We do not know the answer.

  Rather more importantly for musical history, we have no idea of how that performance in the Sternengasse concert room went. We do not know what music the young Ludwig played, nor do we have any idea of whether it was successful or not, because no one wrote it up.

  There is no evidence that Johann put on any more public performances, which suggests maybe that the receipts did not justify the effort. Soon after that recital, Johann did the best thing he could possibly do for his son: he put him into school. But it was not long before he then did the worst thing possible: he took him out of school to concentrate solely on music. This was in 1780 or 1781, when Ludwig was around ten years of age. For the rest of his life he suffered from an inadequate education. His handwriting was close to illegible, his punctuation and spelling poor, and he was useless with figures – there is evidence later on that he could not add up his household bills. In later life his signatures were often so erratic that future musicologists had trouble deciding whether some were authentic.

  Unt
il Johann took his young son out of school, Ludwig led what amounted to a normal childhood. There was a sandpit on the bank of the Rhine, and he and his two younger brothers often played in it. His childhood friend Gottfried Fischer reported that Ludwig and his brothers would steal eggs from the hen-house behind the Fischer house. Once, Frau Fischer caught Ludwig crawling through the fence into the henhouse.

  ‘A shy and taciturn boy ... observing more and pondering more than he spoke’

  ‘Hah,’ she said, ‘and what are you doing there, Ludwig?’

  ‘My brother Caspar threw my handkerchief in here and I came to get it.’

  ‘Yes, that may well account for the fact that I am getting so few eggs.’

  ‘But Frau Fischer, the hens often hide their eggs, and there are foxes, they steal eggs too.’

  ‘Yes, and I think you are one of those sly foxes, Ludwig.’

  ‘Yes, I am a musical-note fox.’

  ‘And an egg fox too!’

  Fischer adds that the two brothers ran off laughing like rogues, Frau Fischer laughing with them, unable to find it in her heart to chastise them for their monkey tricks.

  On another occasion, recounts Fischer, the Beethoven brothers spotted a cockerel that had flown out of the yard and onto the top of a barn in the Fischers’ backyard. They dared each other to catch him. Together they coaxed him with bread, caught him, squeezed his throat so he could not crow. Then they ran back upstairs to the attic and laughed at their prank.

  Fischer also recounts how Ludwig and his brother Caspar Carl would put a target on the garden wall of the house and shoot arrows at it. A bull’s-eye would earn the marksman the promise of a small coin.

  These events, with the dialogue, were recorded around sixty years after the event,3 by which time Gottfried Fischer was aware of the fame attained by the child who had lived in his house, so there might be inaccuracies in them and the dialogue polished. But I believe that, whatever may have passed between Ludwig and Frau Fischer, or between the brothers and the cockerel, it is very unlikely that Fischer would have invented the entire scenarios.