The Heiligenstadt Testament is Beethoven’s famous letter he wrote to his brothers in 1802. In the letter the composer puts on paper his frustration with his growing hearing problem, at the same time attributing his gradual withdrawal from people to this illness. In the letter he also plays with the idea of suicide. The Heiligenstadt Testament marks the turning point in Beethoven’s music, from which a brave and new era begins, what He called the New Path.
Where does the term Heiligenstadt Testament come from?
Heiligenstadt was a small village near Vienna in Beethoven’s time, where he usually spent the summers. The area offered opportunities for hiking in the mountains, good food and drink, and bathing in the local spa. Heiligenstadt today is part of the city of Vienna, where the houses, the inn and the restaurant which Beethoven visited daily can still be found today.
Beethoven wrote his letter here, testifying for the first time about his deafness and despair. Hence the name Heiligenstadt Testament.
When did Beethoven write the Heiligenstadt Testament and to whom was it addressed?
The Heiligenstadt Testament was written on October 6, 1802, and addressed to his brothers, Johan and Caspar. The three-page letter is not the typical Beethoven scribble, but a well-thought-out and structured letter that was ultimately addressed to the World itself, not just his siblings. Beethoven certainly hoped that after his death this letter would be made public and everyone would understand the real reason for his isolation.
Interesting fact about the letter is that Beethoven never posted it in the end, but kept it among his personal belongings, in secret. After his death Anton Schindler, and Beethoven’s friend Stephan von Breuning, found it in his writing desk and later made public as Heiligenstadt Testament.
Since 1888 the original document is in the University of Oldenburg, Germany.
The text of the Heiligenstadt Testament and brief commentary
Beethoven addresses the letter to his brothers, but he leaves Johann’s name blank, as he has always done. This was certainly due to his dislike of their father, who was also called Johann, so he refused to even write down that name.
Ha starts with the most difficult part. Admission of the hearing loss, the withdrawal from friends and society and the most possible outcome: permanent deafness!
“For my brothers Karl and Beethoven.
Oh you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you. From childhood on my heart and soul have been full of the tender feeling of goodwill, and I was ever inclined to accomplish great things. But, think that for 6 years now I have been hopelessly afflicted, made worse by senseless doctors, from year to year deceived with hopes of improvement, finally compelled to face the prospect of a lasting malady (whose cure will take years, or perhaps be impossible). Though born with a fiery, active temperament, even susceptible to the diversions of society, I was soon compelled to withdraw myself, to live life alone. If at times I tried to forget all this, oh how harshly was I flung back by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing. Yet it was impossible for me to say to people, “Speak louder, shout, for I am deaf.” “
It should not be forgotten that Beethoven is still at the beginning of his career. Many of his contemporaries and outstanding musical talents were competing for the favors of the audience. In Vienna at the time only the best musicians and composers could survive! In a situation like this, confessing, acknowledging such a disability was unthinkable for him. Therefore, he preferred to retreat, avoiding the danger of falling.
“Ah, how could I possibly admit an infirmity in the one sense which ought to be more perfect in me than in others, a sense which I once possessed in the highest perfection, a perfection such as few in my profession enjoy or ever have enjoyed.”
In the next section Beethoven presents in painful details how isolated he is and although he desires company, meaningful conversations, he cannot have them. His life is like that of an exile.
“Oh I cannot do it, therefore forgive me when you see me draw back when I would have gladly mingled with you. My misfortune is doubly painful to me because I am bound to be misunderstood; for me there can be no relaxation with my fellow-men, no refined conversations, no mutual exchange of ideas. . . I must live almost alone like an exile.”
In the next section of the letter he describes the famous and well-known scene when he does not hear the music and singing of the shepherds while walking with his friend. This is one of the best known stories associated with his deafness. He also talks here about the idea of suicide for the first time.
“. . . Thus it has been during the last six months which I have spent in the country. By ordering me to spare my hearing as much as possible, my intelligent doctor almost fell in with my own present frame of mind, though sometimes I ran counter to it by yielding to my desire for companionship. But what a humiliation for me when someone standing next to me heard a flute in the distance and I heard nothing, or someone heard a shepherd singing and again I heard nothing. Such incidents drove me almost to despair, a little more of that and I would have ended my life.”
At this point the hero appears! Who would want to live in such conditions and why? What is the point of it at all? What can you hold on to in a situation like this? For Beethoven it was art, his music, and many works that was still waiting to be put on paper. You haven’t run through the race yet, your mission hasn’t been completed…
“It was only my art that held me back. Oh, it seemed impossible to me to leave this world before I had produced all that I felt capable of producing, and so I prolonged this wretched existence — truly wretched for so susceptible a body that a sudden change can plunge me from the best into the worst of states.”
The next section may be familiar to people who know the Bible. These few lines could be from the book of Job.
“Patience, they say, is what I must now choose for my guide, and I have done so — I hope my determination will remain firm to endure until it pleases the inexorable Parcae to break the thread. Perhaps I shall get better, perhaps not, I am ready.
Forced to become a philosopher already in my 28th year, oh it is not easy, and for the artist much more difficult than for anyone else.
Divine One, thou seest my inmost soul, thou knowest that therein dwells the love of humanity and the desire to do good
Oh fellow men, when at some point you read this, consider then that you have done me an injustice…”
The letter then becomes practical, almost a will and a farewell at the same time. The wise big brother bids farewell here and encourages the young to search a meaningful life.
“You my brothers Carl and as soon as I am dead if Dr. Schmidt is still alive ask him in my name to describe my malady, and attach this written document to his account of my illness so that so far as it is possible at least the world may become reconciled to me after my death.
At the same time I declare you two to be the heirs to my small fortune (if it can be called that); divide it fairly: bear with and help each other. What injury you have done to me you know was long ago forgiven.
To you, brother Carl I give special thanks for the attachment you have shown me of late. It is my wish that you may have a better and freer life than I have had. Recommend virtue to your children; it alone, not money, can make them happy. I speak from experience; this was what upheld me in time of misery. Thanks to it and to my art I did not end my life by suicide — Farewell and love each other.
I thank all my friends, especially Prince Lichnowsky and Professor Schmidt.
I would like the instruments from Prince L to be preserved by one of you, but not to the cause of strife between you, and as soon as they can serve you a better purpose, then sell them. How happy I shall be if I can still be helpful to you in my grave — so be it—”
Again, a hero appears who is not afraid and bravely faces death if he needs to at any time.
“With joy I hasten to meet death — If it comes before I have had the chance to develop all my artistic capacities, it will still come too soon despite my harsh fate and I should probably wish it later — yet even so I should be happy, for would it not free me from a state of endless suffering? —Come when thou wilt, I shall meet thee bravely — Farewell and do not wholly forget me when I am dead, I deserve this from you, for during my lifetime I was thinking of you often and of ways to make you happy — please be so—
Ludwig van Beethoven”
Beethoven concludes with this and closes the letter with wax and seal. He then adds a date, location, and instruction.
“For my brothers Carl and to be read and executed after my death.”
The letter itself is heartbreaking and although Beethoven was easily carried away emotionally, the Heiligenstadt Testament is honest and has no pretending in it. A wonderful and unique composer who, alone and without family or offspring, is facing an incurable disease exactly where it is the most hurtful: the most important sensory organ for his work! At the time he does not hear the high pitched sounds, often misunderstood or not fully heard when people talked to him. Soon, however, he will not hear anything, he will not be able to have a conversation, he will not be able to play an instrument, he will never be able to hear music…
Realizing and perhaps accepting this fate as well, three days later, he writes the following on the outside of the letter.
Heiglnstadt [sic], October 10th, 1802, thus I bid you farewell — and indeed sadly — yes, that fond hope — which I brought here with me, to be cured to a degree at least — this I must now wholly abandon. As the leaves of autumn fall and are withered — so likewise my hope has been blighted — I leave here — almost as I came — even the high courage — which often inspired me in the beautiful days of summer — has disappeared — Oh Providence — grant me at last but one day of pure joy — it is so long since real joy echoed in my heart — Oh when — Oh when, Oh divine One — shall I feel it again in the temple of nature and of mankind — Never? —No —Oh that would be too hard.
