His habits while composing have been referred to in a previous chapter, namely, that he was in the habit of singing, stamping, gesticulating, while under the spell of his inspiration.  This kind of thing was new to the maid who looked after his room, and she managed to extract amusement from it.  Beethoven finally discovered her laughing at him, and forthwith bundled her out of the room, giving orders that no female would be admitted again.  One of the men about the place, Michael Kren, was then engaged, who performed his duties faithfully, and helped materially to establish a more comfortable existence for the sick, helpless man.  He has narrated circumstantially the master’s mode of life while at Gneixendorf.  He was up and at work at half-past five, beating time with hands and feet, singing, humming.  This went on until breakfast time, half-past seven.  This meal over he would hurry out of doors, (the weather was fine that particular autumn) spending the morning going about the fields, note-book in hand, his mind intent on his musical thoughts, occasionally singing or calling out, going now slowly, then very fast, at times stopping still to write out his ideas.  This would go on until noon, when he would return to the house for dinner.  This was served at half-past twelve, after which he would go to his room for about two hours, then again to the fields until sunset.  He was never out in the evening as night air was considered bad for him.  Supper was served at half-past seven.  His evenings were spent in his room, and at ten o’clock he went to bed.

This simple, regular life, with the healthful country air, should have restored Beethoven’s health in some measure could it have been continued longer.  His letters from here indicate that he expected some improvement in this respect.  Had not some untoward circumstances intervened, the master’s life might have been spared long enough to enable him to carry to completion the list of works outlined above.

That Johann had an ulterior object in asking his brother to visit him is quite probable.  The growing fame of the composer and the ever-increasing value of his copyrights was well known to him.  He had made money in his dealings between composer and publisher in the past, and could have made still more had he possessed his brother’s confidence in a greater degree.  His cupidity however, prevented him from keeping up for long even the semblance of kindness or hospitality.  Fuel was so scantily provided the sick guest that he suffered from cold, and he was told that a charge would be made for the room.  Other circumstances may have contributed to bring about a climax.  At all events the situation became so unpleasant that he suddenly decided to return to Vienna.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN THE SHADOWS

As a day well spent gives joyful sleep,
So does a life well spent give joyful death. 
—­LEONARDO DA VINCI.