Carl Holz told Jahn: “He (Beethoven) lived at first in a little attic-room in the house of the book-binder Strauss in the Alservorstadt, where he had a miserable time.” This is one of the facts which an inquisitive young man like Holz would naturally learn of the master during the short period when he was his factotum. This attic-room must have been soon changed for the room “on the ground-floor” mentioned in a previous chapter. An undated note of van Swieten is directed to Beethoven at “No. 45 Alsergasse, at Prince Lichnowsky’s”; but in the Vienna directory for 1804 no street is so named, and the only number 45 in the “Alsergrund” is in the Lämmelgasse, property of Georg Musial; but Prince Josef Lichnowsky is named as owner of No. 125 in the Hauptstrasse of that suburb. This was the same house; it had merely changed numbers. The site is now occupied by the house No. 30 Alserstrasse. Thence Beethoven went as a guest to the house occupied by Prince Lichnowsky. In May, 1795, Beethoven, in advertising the Trios, Op. 1, gives the “residence of the author” as the “Ogylisches Haus in the Kreuzgasse behind the Minorite church, No. 35 in the first storey”; but that is no reason to think that Prince Lichnowsky then lived there. Where Beethoven was during the next few years has not been ascertained, but, as has been seen by the concert bill on a preceding page, he was during the winter of 1799-1800 in the Tiefen Graben “in a very high and narrow house,” as Czerny wrote to F. Luib.[94] For the summer of 1800, he took quarters for himself and servant in one of those houses in Unter-Döbling, an hour’s walk, perhaps, from town, to which the readiest access is by the bridge over the brook on the North side of the Döbling hospital for the insane. The wife of a distinguished Vienna advocate occupied with her children another part of the same house. One of these children was Grillparzer, afterward famous as a poet. The zeal with which Beethoven at this period labored to perfect his pianoforte playing, and his dislike to being listened to, have been already noted. Madame Grillparzer was a lady of fine taste and culture, fond of music and therefore able to appreciate the skill of her fellow-lodger, but ignorant of his aversion to listeners. Her son, in 1861, still remembered Beethoven’s incessant practice and his mother’s habit of standing outside her own door to enjoy his playing. This continued for some time; but one day Beethoven sprang from the instrument to the door, opened it, looked out to see if any one was listening, and unfortunately discovered the lady. From that moment he played no more. Madame Grillparzer, thus made aware of his sensitiveness on this point, informed him through his servant that thenceforth her door into the common passageway should be kept locked, and she and her family would solely use another. It was of no avail; Beethoven played no more.