THE COMPOSER WHO COULD NOT HEAR HIS OWN MUSIC
Ludwig van Beethoven, who became one of the greatest--if not the
greatest--of all musical composers, was born at Bonn, Prussia, in 1770.
His childhood was not by any means a happy one. His father, who was
a musician, earned only a very small salary wherewith to support his
family of seven children, and besides he was a man whose drunken habits
reduced the family income still further. Often the three boys, Carl,
Ludwig, and Johann Beethoven, had to stop their play and assist their
staggering father into the house. The Beethovens had to sell their
linen and much of their furniture and tableware. Frau van Beethoven
grew paler and paler and then it was that Ludwig’s musical ability was
discovered.
He was only four when he began to study music and by the time he was
nine he had mastered all that his father could teach him. At the age
of seven he gave a series of concerts in Cologne. Very soon he began
to compose music. When only ten he went on a tour to Holland with
his mother, and a year later he was appointed deputy organist in the
Elector’s Chapel. While he was still very young he went to play before
the great Mozart. Mozart was very busy and did not want to be bothered.
He took very little notice of young Beethoven, which disappointed the
lad; but the boy sat down at the piano and began to play in such a
manner that the great musician said to his friends, “This youth will
some day make a noise in the world.”
While he was still in his teens the boy’s mother died, and as his
father was a worthless character, the lad felt very lonely. Some
years later he went to Vienna to continue his musical education, and
at once his great genius was recognised. With his wonderful playing,
and still more with his compositions, he astonished and delighted the
music-loving people there.
Then it was that a very serious thing happened to Beethoven--he
began to lose his hearing. For awhile he would not admit it, even to
himself. That he, who was so passionately fond of music; to whom it
seemed the sweetest thing in life, should cease to hear, seemed too
cruel to be true. It was just the same as if some great artist were
suddenly to lose his eyesight and never again see the beauty of colors.
He consulted one doctor after another, in frantic efforts to find a
remedy. It was of no avail. His deafness increased so quickly that
while still a comparatively young man he was nearly totally deaf.
As he realised what was happening Beethoven became unutterably
miserable. He realised that resignation to his fate was the only
thing left for him. In utter misery he exclaimed, “Resignation! what
a miserable refuge, and yet it is the only one left for me.” He even
thought of taking his own life. “If I had not read,” he exclaimed,
“that man must not of his own free-will end his life, I should
have done so long ago.” A mechanician named Maelzel made a pair of
ear-trumpets for him and at first the composer thought that they would
be a great help, but he was bitterly disappointed and he discarded them.
Then it was that Beethoven faced his terrible calamity with an amount
of courage that seems amazing. He applied himself with increased
enthusiasm to his musical studies and at times seemed almost to forget
his deafness. There is no doubt that his affliction touched his spirit
so that there is in nearly all his compositions, a peculiar melancholy
strain. He lived much to himself. He had already written, “Poor
Beethoven, there is no external happiness for you! You must create your
own happiness.” When he was only a little over thirty he wrote a letter
which shows how extremely crushed he was for a time. He wrote, “My
heart and my mind were from childhood prone to the tender feelings of
affection. Nay, I was always disposed to perform great actions. I have
been attacked by an incurable complaint, made worse by the unskilful
treatment of medical men, disappointed from year to year in the hope
of relief, and at last obliged to submit to the endurance of an evil
the cure of which may last for years, if it is practicable at all. Born
with a lively disposition, susceptible to the diversions of society,
I was forced at an early age to renounce them, and to pass my life in
seclusion.”
It was not to be wondered at that Beethoven developed some peculiar
habits. He loved the out-of-doors, but if for any reason he could not
get out he had ways of creating inspiration. “He would go to the
wash-bowl and pour several jugs of water over his hands and wrists and
dabble there until his clothing was drenched. Often in his rapture he
would pour a great deal more water out than the bowl could hold, and
the water would soon be dripping through the ceiling down into the
room below.” Sometimes when he was composing he would scarcely eat for
days at a time, and it was utterly useless for friends to remonstrate
with him, because he was like a man living in another world. Once when
he was engaged on a great composition a friend called upon him and
thus described his visit: “The house was deserted by servants, every
comfort was absent. Shut up in a room alone the great man resorted to
singing, shouting, stamping, as if in the throes of mental torture. In
appearance he was wild, dishevelled, exhausted with long periods of
work and abstinence from food of any kind.”
He got his greatest inspiration out-of-doors. He would go out in the
wettest of weather, then come in dripping with rain, shake the water
from his hat and clothes, quite unaware that he was spoiling the
carpets, coverings and furniture. He seemed as if he must get alone
with Nature and with God, in order to do his best work. His mind was
strangely awakened by the sight of a storm. He seemed supremely happy
when the wind bent the pine trees around him and the lightning flashed.
He could not hear the sweet singing of the birds, but he loved to
watch their flight and he remembered how they sang. He would stay in
the solitary woods until his whole being seemed full of strange music,
then he would hurry back to his room to put down what he had conceived,
while the inspiration was still upon him. As he raced through the
streets with his hat gone and his bushy head bowed, not looking at any
one, the people who knew his strange moods would laugh and say, “It is
just Ludwig Beethoven. Only his body is in this world.” At other times
he would sit down at the piano and, bending very low over the keys in
a frantic effort to catch the sound, he would play on rapturously,
not seeming to know who or where he was; meanwhile a crowd would be
gathered around the window and at the open doors.
There is no doubt that at times Beethoven was subject to fits of
irritability and even to fits of rage. But it must not be forgotten
that he was a great sufferer. In addition to being totally deaf, he
suffered much from rheumatism, indigestion and finally from dropsy.
Sometimes when out walking with a friend he could not help noticing how
much his friend could hear and he could not. The singing of birds, the
music of the flute, the sound of human voices, and similar joys were
lost to him and as he noticed how much they meant to others he would
often be overwhelmed with grief. Frequently when in the company of
friends he would talk brilliantly for a while, then suddenly lapse into
silence, from which none could arouse him.
For a considerable time after he became deaf Beethoven continued
to lead the orchestra in his great compositions. He was extremely
sensitive and no doubt he often pretended to hear when in reality he
could not. He was just as eccentric in leading an orchestra as in
private. He would put tremendous physical energy into the task, making
himself smaller and smaller to compel softened sounds, then rising and
standing on tip-toe with head thrown back when every instrument of the
orchestra burst forth. He could not endure frivolity when music was
being rendered. Any apparent restlessness or apathy on the part of the
audience drove him frantic. On one occasion when he observed some young
people laughing and talking while he played, he stopped immediately
and said, “I do not play for such swine.”
All during these anxious years, when sickness and poverty dogged his
footsteps, Beethoven continued to compose such music as ranked him
among the greatest composers that ever lived. He was very anxious
about his “Choral Symphony,” and urged on by friends he consented to
conduct the first performance. His friends could not have realised
the full extent of his deafness or they would never have allowed him
to be placed in such an unfortunate position. He stood up before the
orchestra and energetically waved his baton, but evidently he could not
hear the music. At the conclusion of the piece the audience thundered
its applause, which Beethoven could not hear, but some one turned him
around to face the people, who were wild with enthusiasm, and then
it dawned upon the great musician that they were showing tremendous
appreciation and he was deeply moved.
Beethoven died in Vienna on March 26, 1827, in his fifty-seventh year.
He had undertaken a long journey in winter, and the severe cold and
exposure brought on inflammation of the lungs and dropsy.
Beethoven will ever rank, not only as a great musical composer, but as
a very brave man. All through his life he was beset by troubles which
made him at times very unhappy. His deafness, which made companionship
with others almost impossible, was a constant source of mental
reflection and misery. Then his health was never good at any time of
his life, and coupled with these things was the fact that practically
all his life he was in poor financial circumstances. The wonder is,
that with so many things to harass him, he continued to produce such
music--music that will continue to thrill people as long as the world
lasts.
He died during a terrible thunder-storm, and prompted no doubt by the
heavy burden he had borne so long, he said with his last breath, “I
shall hear in heaven.”