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Ludwig Van Beethoven. Interest in Beethoven’s love life has focused largely on a letter he wrote in the summer of 1812, to an unidentified woman.

Beethoven’s Love Letters

O, My Immortal Beloved!

“My heart overflows with a longing to tell you so many things…”

Beethoven may never have married, but women had a huge influence and impact on his music and life. German composer Ludwig van Beethoven is considered one of the most important figures in the history of music. He continued to compose even while losing his hearing and created some of his greatest works after becoming totally deaf.

Around 1812 Beethoven wrote a long letter (10 pages) to some woman who he was obviously quite taken with. Sadly we will never know for certain who it was. However the letter itself was discovered after Beethoven’s death in a secret drawer where he also kept the Heiligenstadt Testament, some savings and some pictures.

Dr. Franz Wegeler, one of Beethoven’s oldest friends in Bonn, wrote that Beethoven “was always in love – sometimes so successfully that many handsome young men might have envied him!” Another doctor who treated him over a period of 10 years, around the time he composed his middle-quartets, wrote that Beethoven had a preference for graceful and fragile women (which incidentally reflected the physical type of his mother) but he usually kept their identities a secret from his friends and quite possibly from the women themselves.

That may not be the typical image we have of Beethoven the Composer – the titan with the unruly hair and a glower like he’d have lightening-bolts coming out of his eyes as if he were always under the power of inspiration, striding across the ages as one of the greatest creative artists known to man.

Beethoven’s relations with women have been the subject of endless fascination to biographers. Certainly, the composer fell deeply in love on several occasions, but he seems always to have been painfully aware that married life would be incompatible with his inner urge to create. Almost invariably, he was attracted to women whose social or marital status – often both – placed them safely beyond reach.

Interest in Beethoven’s love life has focused largely on a letter he wrote in the summer of 1812, to an unidentified woman. On July 5, after a hazardous journey by night on an unfamiliar road, Beethoven reached the Bohemian spa town of Teplitz at four o’clock in the morning. His doctor had advised him to take the waters there the previous summer, too, but this time he was clearly going through an acute midlife crisis.

The morning after he arrived, he began writing a passionate love letter to a woman he had almost certainly met up with in Prague on his way to Teplitz. Addressing her as “My angel, my all, my own self”, he was, he told her, writing the letter with her pencil. “Can you alter the fact,” he asked her, “that you are not entirely mine, and I am not entirely yours?” Beethoven continued the letter that evening, and the following morning he added a further page in which – in the most famous words he was ever to write – he described her as his “Immortal Beloved”.

Who was she? And did Beethoven actually send the letter? (It was found among his papers after his death – and considering that he moved lodgings on average once a year during the last 15 years of his life, he must have attached a good deal of importance to it.) Volumes have been written on the subject, but the identity of the immortal beloved has never been established beyond doubt.

Ludwig van Beethoven was born in Bonn, Germany, on December 16, 1770. He was the eldest of three children of Johann and Maria Magdalena van Beethoven. His father, a musician who liked to drink, taught him to play piano and violin. Beethoven’s father noticed early on the boy’s penchant for playing. He set his sights on creating a prodigy as Mozart was just years before, and Johann beat music into Ludwig, forcing him to practice day and night to reach the same level of genius. Neighbours of Beethoven remembered the small boy standing on a bench to reach the keyboard, crying, his father looming over him. Young Ludwig was often pulled out of bed in the middle of the night and ordered to perform for his father’s drinking companions, suffering beatings if he protested. As Beethoven developed, it became clear that to reach artistic maturity he would have to leave Bonn for a major musical center.

Having left school at age 11 to help with household income, Beethoven never learned how to multiply or divide. To his last day if he had to multiply, say, 60 x 52, he’d lay out 60 52 times over and add them up.

At the age of twelve Beethoven was a promising keyboard player and a talented pupil in composition of the court organist Christian Gottlob Neefe (1748–1798). He even filled in as church organist when Neefe was out of town. In 1783 Beethoven’s first published work, a set of keyboard pieces, appeared, and in the 1780s he produced portions of a number of later works. In 1787 he travelled to Vienna, Austria, to seek out Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791) as a teacher.

On his visit to Vienna, 17-year-old Beethoven was scheduled to perform for Mozart. The latter was generally unimpressed with other musicians, having been so far ahead of his peers in talent and accomplishments. No one really knows what happened in that fateful meeting, but myth has it that Mozart walked out of the room saying, “Keep your eyes on him—someday he’ll give the world something to talk about.” He was forced to return to Bonn to care for his ailing mother, who died several months later. His father died in 1792.

In 1792 Beethoven went back to Vienna to study with the famous composer Joseph Haydn (1732–1809). Beethoven was not totally satisfied with Haydn’s teaching, though, and he turned to musicians of lesser talent for extra instruction. Beethoven rapidly proceeded to make his mark as a brilliant keyboard performer and as a gifted young composer with a number of works to his credit. In 1795 his first mature published works appeared, and his career was officially launched.

Beethoven had varying luck with women. Some admired him for his genius while others found him repulsive. A woman he courted once called him “ugly and half crazy.”  Beethoven was a sick kid to his dying day. Throughout his life he would suffer from deafness, colitis, rheumatism, rheumatic fever, typhus, skin disorders, abscesses, a variety of infections, ophthalmia, inflammatory degeneration of the arteries, jaundice, chronic hepatitis, and cirrhosis of the liver.

Beethoven lived in Vienna from 1792 to his death in 1827, unmarried, among a circle of friends, independent of any kind of official position or private service. He rarely travelled, apart from summers in the countryside. In 1796 he made a trip to northern Germany, where his schedule included a visit to the court of King Frederick William of Prussia, an amateur cellist. Later Beethoven made several trips to Budapest, Hungary. In 1808 Beethoven received an invitation to become music director at Kassel, Germany. This alarmed several of his wealthy Viennese friends, who formed a group of backers and agreed to guarantee Beethoven an annual salary of 1,400 florins to keep him in Vienna. He thus became one of the first musicians in history to be able to live independently on his music salary.

Beethoven’s two main personal problems, especially in later life, were his deafness and his relationship with his nephew, Karl. Beethoven began to lose his hearing during his early years in Vienna, and the condition gradually grew worse. So severe was the problem that as early as 1802 he actually considered suicide. In 1815 he gave up hope of performing publicly as a pianist. After 1818 he was no longer able to carry on conversations with visitors, who were forced to communicate with him in writing. The second problem arose when he became Karl’s guardian upon the death of his brother in 1815. Karl proved to be unstable and a continuing source of worry to an already troubled man.

Beethoven’s deafness and his temper contributed to his reputation as an unpleasant personality. But reliable accounts and a careful reading of Beethoven’s letters reveal him to be a powerful and self-conscious man, totally involved in his creative work but alert to its practical side as well, and one who is sometimes willing to change to meet current demands. For example, he wrote some works on commission, such as his cantata (a narrative poem set to music) for the Congress of Vienna, 1814

The identity of Ludwig van Beethoven’s “immortal beloved,” who received a plethora of letters from the composer in 1812, is still a mystery, but historians believe it was Antonie Brentano, a diplomat’s daughter. Beethoven dedicated his Diabelli Variations Op. 120 to her, and in one of his letters found after his death, he famously wrote:
“Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, Be calm–love me–today–yesterday–what tearful longings for you–you–you–my life–my all –farewell. Oh continue to love me–never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved. Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours.”

Beethoven’s legacy is more than the music he left behind, though. Unlike many other historic classic composers, Beethoven had a personality that resonated with his music. He is often portrayed in films and literature as a brooding artist who bordered on insane. He played his piano like a maniac until he went deaf and then he played it like an outright lunatic, if the stories are to be believed. Of course, he did so in order to “feel” his music because he could no longer hear it. Nonetheless, his character stuck. He was unmarried, grumpy and extremely talented. However, upon his death, another side of Beethoven was revealed — one that remains steeped in mystery.

The legendary composer died in 1827. He was in his 50s when he passed away. After his death, a single letter written in three parts was discovered. The letter was written to a woman he referred to only as his “Immortal Beloved.” The letter seems to have never been sent. Therefore, there is no date or addressee on the letter, which consists of 10 pages. However, the papers have been dated to 1812.

It is made abundantly clear in Beethoven’s letters to his Immortal Beloved that he is either very in love with her or a very smooth talker. He opens the letter with, “My angel, my everything, my very self.” He goes on to say, “We will probably see each other soon . . . ” and then leaves off the first part with “Your faithful Ludwig.” The first part does give the impression that the two lovers have a past together and that their feelings are mutual. It also gives the impression that there is some difficulty to their relationship.

The second part of the Immortal Beloved letters opens with, “You are suffering, you my dearest creature . . . ” Why is she suffering? He goes on to lament their lack of contact, giving the impression that her suffering is caused by their being apart or not getting letters from each other soon enough. He mentions he is upset that she will not get news from him until a later date. In this part of the missive, Ludwig van Beethoven writes, “. . . as much as you love me — I love you even more deeply . . . ” By now, the reader knows there is a past there, but who could the recipient be? It seems the letter was never sent. Did something prevent it? Did he simply see her before he could send the letters? Was this the last of their relationship? Why are there no more letters if this one was important enough to keep?

It is in the last part of the papers that Beethoven calls his mystery lover his Immortal Beloved. In addition, this part gives the largest clues as to the nature of their relationship. He mentions the two of them wanting to live together and this being a goal. It is hinted that this is a difficult thing to accomplish. Beethoven wonders to his lover whether conformity is possible in their relationship. He ends the entire batch of papers with, “Forever mine, forever thine, forever us.” We know now that there was no “forever us” for Ludwig van Beethoven.

Beethoven first met Josephine and her sister Therese when the two visited Vienna with their mother in 1799. Later that year Josephine married Count Joseph Deym, but was widowed five years later.

It is clear from 13 letters from Beethoven to Josephine – which only came to light after the second world war – that Beethoven was passionately in love with her in the period 1804-7, that he suggested they should have a physical relationship, and that she refused.

In 1804-5 he composed the song, An die Hoffnung [To Hope] Op 32, for her. He states in one of his letters to her that Prince Lichnowsky saw it lying on a table and surmised it was intended for her. Josephine was outraged, and berated Beethoven for his carelessness.

Josephine married Count Stackelberg in 1810, ending Beethoven’s hopes. But the marriage was disastrous and the couple separated in 1813. Stackelberg took the couple’s children back to Estonia with him, leaving Josephine distraught.

Josephine gave birth to a daughter, Minona, in 1813. It has been postulated that Minona was Beethoven’s illegitimate child, that her name is Anonim – the child with no name – spelled backwards.

There is some evidence that Josephine put it about that Beethoven was the child’s father, but this is almost certainly not the case — since by now, with signs evident of Josephine’s increasing mental instability, he was attempting to separate himself from her. Some Beethoven scholars believe Josephine was the Eternally Beloved. But there is no evidence she was in either Prague or Karlsbad in 1812. Minona was only seven when her mother died, and outlived her by 76 years. She never married, and died in straitened circumstances in Vienna at the age of 83.

The first known identity of a woman Beethoven was attracted to was Jeannette Honrath of Cologne – she was blonde, vivacious but had a strong feeling for music. Keep in mind Beethoven was around 20 at the time – she was visiting her friends the von Breunings and Beethoven was a close friend of their son Stephan who, as it turned out, was more openly infatuated with Ms. Honrath. Certainly, if she had a choice in the matter, she would probably have chosen the aristocrat’s handsome son and not the headstrong son of a simple musician, however much she liked music. There was also a Fräulein Westerhold – an unrequited flirtation that was probably more a distraction from court business though one he would remember later fondly as “Fräulein von W.”

Beethoven Documentary – The Genius of Beethoven 3/3 “Faith and Fury”

Perhaps the strongest affection from his days in Bonn was for the sister of his friend Stephan von Bruening, Eleonore. He was introduced to the family originally by the future Dr. Wegeler when the von Breunings were looking for a piano teacher for Eleonore. He would later dedicate a piano sonata to her, but one he left unfinished, around the time he was working on the Op. 10 Sonatas in Vienna, five years after he left Bonn. In writing to her, he would address her as “Adorable Eleonore.” He still possessed a miniature portrait of her 34 years later.

There was also Babette Koch whose mother, the Widow Koch, ran one of the best high-class restaurants in Bonn where many regulars signed a farewell-book for the young composer on the eve of his departure for Vienna. Except for Babette. We know she and Beethoven danced together at a party one time, according to a friend’s letter. She was a good friend of Eleonore von Breuning’s and it seems the future Dr. Wegeler was also much smitten by her, writing in one of his letters that she was the “ideal of the perfect lady.” A year later, Beethoven wrote to Eleonore, “if you see B [Babette] Koch, tell her please I am waiting for her to answer my two letters.”

And there was the singer Magdalena Willman, a soprano from Bonn who sang in Vienna a couple of years after Beethoven had moved there. Her nephew later told the family story how Beethoven had proposed to her but she refused him because he was – quote – “too ugly and half crazy.”

There was something else that would always haunt Beethoven throughout his life: he moved in aristocratic circles, but he was not “one of them” – and however he might feel about his own position in society, society was very quick to realize exactly what he was: from the lower class.

He was of a short, stocky build with a dark complexion marred by smallpox scars, with bushy eyebrows and thick black hair that defied the best intentions of comb or brush… The piercing nature of his eyes may have been the result of near-sightedness (for a while, he wore eye glasses until he was 47) and as he aged, the hair turned quickly gray before he was 50. While there are reports that a visitor would find Beethoven, then in his 50s, decked out in a blue waistcoat with yellow buttons and spotless white pants, Weber remarked when they met a year later the Master was wearing a well-worn jacket with torn sleeves. It was around this time, when he was working on the Missa Solemnis, he was once arrested as a vagrant: the police could not believe that Herr Beethoven would dress this way! He was not the best housekeeper, either. Because he was a perpetual renter, one of his brothers once tried to throw his own social status around by signing himself as “Johann van Beethoven, Landowner” to which the composer responded as “Ludwig van Beethoven, Brain-Owner.” It was another brother’s wife who would become a very significant woman in Beethoven’s life, but more of that in a little while…

Getting back to Beethoven’s early years in fun-loving Vienna: he was much sought after as a piano teacher, going to their homes to give regular lessons in an age when young women, in order to present themselves as marriageable ladies, were expected to be proficient pianists and/or singers, in the days when families were responsible for making their own entertainment, before there were TVs, stereos and even radios. It seems, in retrospect, it must’ve been a good way to meet girls, not that we would normally call Beethoven a Babe-Magnet, but it’s possible today we might also call him “The Defendant.”

Countess Barbara von Kegelwicz lived across the street from Beethoven – the story goes that he would arrive for her and her younger sister’s lessons dressed in his robe and slippers wearing a peaked night-cap, amusing perhaps if you’re thinking an eccentric old man, but Beethoven was 27 at the time. He dedicated his Op. 7 Piano Sonata to Barbara, a sonata he dubbed the “Lovelorn Maiden” (sometimes called the “Amorous” Sonata). Two years later, he dedicated a set of piano variations to her, on Salieri’s La stessa, la stessissima from “Falstaff.” Now, if you remember the story of Sir John Falstaff and the Merry Wives of Windsor, this is the scene in which Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page compare the love letters they have received from Falstaff and discover they are, word for word, identical. So… could it be an inside joke that Beethoven might have been accused of courting, seriously or otherwise, the Countess Barbara and her younger sister (or perhaps some other ‘lovelorn maiden’) at the same time? It seems too much of a coincidence he should choose that duet to write a set of variations for her! Then, two more years passed by when the Countess Barbara became the Princess Barbara Odescalchi – and a month after her marriage, Beethoven dedicated to her his C Major Piano Concerto, his first major orchestral work.

Ferdinand Ries, one of Beethoven’s students, described him as a hopeless flirt. When they would be out walking together, Ries would catch the Master looking longingly after or winking at some beautiful young woman. At one point, Ries was embarrassed when he showed up at Beethoven’s place for a lesson, where a beautiful young woman he did not know was sitting on the sofa. But Beethoven asked him to stay and play something for them while they sat on the couch behind his back. Then he asked him to play something “sentimental.” Then, “something melancholy.” Then, “something… passionate!” (It must’ve been like having a stereo system with remote control!) Ries later wrote to a friend that Beethoven never visited him more than when he lived in a building next to a tailor who had three “beautiful young daughters” and Beethoven often went over on errands to pick up, oh… some needles…

In 1800, now, around the time he had published his first set of six string quartets, he was giving piano lessons to another young countess, Giulietta Guicciardi. He was 30 and she was 16. It was around this time that Beethoven wrote to his Bonn friend Dr. Wegeler, mentioning the symptoms of his deafness that would lead shortly to the Heiligenstadt Testament, that otherwise “life has been a little brighter for me of late…” because “of a dear fascinating girl whom I love and who loves me…. For the first time, I feel what a truly happy state marriage might be. Unfortunately, she is not of my rank in life” – note he did not say “I am not of her rank.” The next year, he published a piano sonata which he dedicated to her, the one we know as “The Moonlight” Sonata. Many times, these dedications are afterthoughts, but did he write this romantic piece with its stormy conclusion with her – or his feelings for her – in mind? Shortly afterwards, she married a count and they moved to Italy. Many years later, when Beethoven was totally deaf, she came back to Vienna, visited him again and, as he wrote later, she “wept, but I scorned her.”

Then there was another student and another dedication for a piano sonata, though not a very famous one: the little one in F-sharp Major which Beethoven always described as one of his favorites – perhaps for personal reasons rather than its musical value. Teresa von Brunswick, a cousin of Giulietta Guicciardi, may have been a little in love with her piano teacher, too. There was one story that Beethoven became so cross with her playing at one lesson, he stormed out into the stormy night without his hat or coat and Teresa went running after him with them like a valet. A servant caught up with her, seized the hat and coat and followed Beethoven himself: meanwhile, her mother gave her a good talking to and sent her to her room, (…acting like that in public over a man like that!). She wrote in her diary constantly about Beethoven as “mon maitre” and “mon maitre cheri.” After Giulietta married her count, Beethoven now turned his interest to Teresa.

Years later, Teresa told a friend who wrote this down long after Beethoven’s death that in 1806, she and Beethoven got secretly engaged, which only her brother, who idolized Beethoven, knew about.

In 1810, he proposed to Teresa… Malfatti. How would this have seemed to her family: Beethoven was a 40-year-old curmudgeon; the bride-to-be was 18. The proposal, for whatever reason, was turned down. Next year, Dr. Malfatti suggested Beethoven should go to the Bohemian spa at Teplitz to “unwind.” There, among the many guests, Beethoven met the great Goethe – as well as a singer named Amalie Sebald and an actress named Rahel Levin who was with her lover, Count Karl Varnhagen von Ense. He returned the following summer and, apparently, wrote a letter on Monday, July 6th and the morning of the next day, but without adding the year which has left open the question exactly when it was written. We’re not sure he even mailed it – perhaps it was the rough draft they found in Beethoven’s desk after his death in 1827, this letter intended for someone he referred to as his “Immortal Beloved”… And now we come to one of the greatest mysteries of Beethoven’s life…

The Immortal Beloved will always be a mystery.
Certain biographers have declared that they don’t know, and have suggested that perhaps Beethoven’s sweetheart is someone whose name has been completely overlooked…

In March, 1827, months after completing his last string quartets, Beethoven died at the age of 56, and when Schindler went through his Master’s papers, he found nearly indecipherable sketches for a 10th symphony… a letter written in pencil to the Immortal Beloved… and near it, a miniature portrait of… Teresa von Brunswick…

Beethoven’s missives to this “immortal beloved,” which include the only known love letter of his to use the informal German du for “you” rather than the formal Sie, were found among his personal effects; they were never mailed — a beautiful and tragic testament to the fact that their affair, like all affairs, was both bedeviled and vitalized by the awareness that the two lovers could never fully have each other.

After his death in 1827, the  love letter was found amongst the personal papers of Ludwig van Beethoven, penned by the composer over the course of two days in July of 1812 while staying in Teplice. The letter’s unnamed recipient — Beethoven’s “Immortal Beloved” — remains a mystery, and continues to generate debate. These images are of the first and last of the letter’s ten pages. 

The Beethoven Immortal Beloved letter was found at the same time as “Heiligenstadt’s Testament” is made up of two double pages, written on both sides, (8 pages), of about 200 x 238 mm and on a single sheet of about 201 x 119 mm both sides. Therefore, a total of 10 pages make up the Immortal Beloved letter.

The Immortal Beloved book or letters were written in pencil. Careful analysis shows that certain words have been gone over again in pencil, in an attempt to make them more legible, without doubt by Anton Schindler, who used part of the letter in facsimile in the third edition of his biography of Beethoven.

The pages were numbered by Schindler, as well as an attempt at the crossing out of “Oh geh mit, geh mit” (literally, “oh come with” meaning “come with me” or “accompany me”).

Two stamps can be seen at the tops of pages 1 and 5 of the Immortal Beloved letter which are the marks of Berlin Library.

Transcript

The Letters

July 6, in the morning

My angel, my all, my very self – Only a few words today and at that with pencil (with yours) – Not till tomorrow will my lodgings be definitely determined upon – what a useless waste of time – Why this deep sorrow when necessity speaks – can our love endure except through sacrifices, through not demanding everything from one another; can you change the fact that you are not wholly mine, I not wholly thine – Oh God, look out into the beauties of nature and comfort your heart with that which must be – Love demands everything and that very justly – thus it is to me with you, and to your with me. But you forget so easily that I must live for me and for you; if we were wholly united you would feel the pain of it as little as I – My journey was a fearful one; I did not reach here until 4 o’clock yesterday morning. Lacking horses the post-coach chose another route, but what an awful one; at the stage before the last I was warned not to travel at night; I was made fearful of a forest, but that only made me the more eager – and I was wrong. The coach must needs break down on the wretched road, a bottomless mud road. Without such postilions as I had with me I should have remained stuck in the road. Esterhazy, traveling the usual road here, had the same fate with eight horses that I had with four – Yet I got some pleasure out of it, as I always do when I successfully overcome difficulties – Now a quick change to things internal from things external. We shall surely see each other soon; moreover, today I cannot share with you the thoughts I have had during these last few days touching my own life – If our hearts were always close together, I would have none of these. My heart is full of so many things to say to you – ah – there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing at all – Cheer up – remain my true, my only treasure, my all as I am yours. The gods must send us the rest, what for us must and shall be –

Your faithful LUDWIG

Evening, Monday, July 6

You are suffering, my dearest creature – only now have I learned that letters must be posted very early in the morning on Mondays to Thursdays – the only days on which the mail-coach goes from here to K. – You are suffering – Ah, wherever I am, there you are also – I will arrange it with you and me that I can live with you. What a life!!! thus!!! without you – pursued by the goodness of mankind hither and thither – which I as little want to deserve as I deserve it – Humility of man towards man – it pains me – and when I consider myself in relation to the universe, what am I and what is He – whom we call the greatest – and yet – herein lies the divine in man – I weep when I reflect that you will probably not receive the first report from me until Saturday – Much as you love me – I love you more – But do not ever conceal yourself from me – good night – As I am taking the baths I must go to bed – Oh God – so near! so far! Is not our love truly a heavenly structure, and also as firm as the vault of heaven?

Good morning, on July 7

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us – I can live only wholly with you or not at all – Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits – Yes, unhappily it must be so – You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart – never – never – Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life – Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men – At my age I need a steady, quiet life – can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day – therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once – Be calm, only by a clam consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together – Be calm – love me – today – yesterday – what tearful longings for you – you – you – my life – my all – farewell. Oh continue to love me – never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

ever thine

ever mine

ever ours

LOVE LETTERS BY BEETHOVEN AND JOSEPHINE

Beethoven: Childhood and Youth (1770-1792)

Beethoven’s immortal beloved

Beethoven: Rise to Fame (1792-1805)

Beethoven: Last Years (1815-1827)

The Heiligenstadt Testament

The Immortal Beloved Letters

Chronological List of Events

Thoughts On a Train: Beethoven and His Women

BEETHOVEN : Loves

Immortal beloved: the women – Ludwig van Beethoven’s website –

Immortal Beloved: Beethoven’s Passionate Love Letters – Brain Pickings

Letters of Note: Immortal Beloved

Beethoven Biography – Life of Ludwig Van Beethoven

Meet the maestro: Beethoven’s fraught personal life – New Statesman

 


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