Overcoming handicaps

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.”