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“My wife is overjoyed at the thought of Vienna,” wrote Theodor Billroth from Zurich to his friend, the anatomist Wilhelm His, in Basel on March 17, 1867. Billroth, born in Rügen, Germany, in 1829, had accepted a position as a surgeon in Zurich in 1860 and was - when he wrote the letter - about to go to Vienna. Here he succeeded Franz Schuh (1804 to 1865) as director of the II Surgical University Clinic. Vienna was not new for Billroth; after completing his studies in 1852, he had attended lectures by Ferdinand von Hebra (dermatologist) and other physicians.
The "Letters of Theodor Billroth", 442 in number, which were published by Georg Fischer in the fall of 1895 one and a half years after his death on February 6, 1894, provide authentic insights into the everyday life of the great surgeon, who had an ambivalent relationship with Vienna. Fischer (1836 to 1921), a doctor and also a music lover like Billroth, says in the foreword: "The poor pastor's son from Bergen on the island of Rügen became the most popular man in Vienna. But he remained German." Ernst Kern had already chosen letters as the source of a “biography based on personal testimonies” for a 307-page book in 1994. This is about examples of Billroth's love-hate relationship with Vienna, for which he finds direct and very personal words.
Even in the 21st century, Billroth is omnipresent in Vienna. Evidence of this is, among other things, Billrothstrasse, which was named in July 1894, a main street in Vienna-Döbling, where the Billrothgymnasium (Nos. 26 to 30) and the private hospital Rudolfinerhaus (Billrothstrasse 78), which he founded in 1882, with a bust of Billroth in the front garden, are located. Furthermore, in Vienna-Alsergrund there is the Billrothhaus (Frankgasse 8), headquarters of the Society of Doctors in Vienna, which also has a bust of Billroth and a larger-than-life monument (sculptor: Michael Drobil, member of the NSDAP from 1940) in the courtyard of the Old General Hospital (AKH), which was erected in 1944. In addition, there is a half-statue of Caspar von Zumbusch in the arcade of the University of Vienna, unveiled on November 7, 1897.
Finally, as befits a man honored in Vienna, an honorary grave at the Vienna Central Cemetery (Group 14 A, No. 7). The university is also honoring him on the occasion of its 650-year history, but Billroth's entry on this website has red call signs: "The honors are classified as 'problematic' in 2022/23 because Theodor Billroth was a prominent promoter of anti-Semitism." Back to the letter mentioned at the beginning. "What will the ministry say about this? A Protestant Prussian! Something is spinning in my head at the thought of working in the cosmopolitan city of Vienna. I have always wanted something like that, now I am almost afraid." His first address was an apartment with his wife and daughters at Tulpenstraße 3 (today: Tulpengasse) in Vienna-Josefstadt.
With the highest resolution of May 12, 1867, "Professor of Surgery in Zurich Dr. Theodor Billroth was most graciously appointed full public professor of the surgical clinic and chairman of the surgeon's institute at the University of Vienna" (Wiener Zeitung, May 26, 1867). At first, to the surgeon and music lover, who barely knew Vienna and the nature of the Viennese, everything seemed transfigured, a mere bliss. He was just about to break up his tent in Zurich and move to the imperial capital and royal seat. On June 2, 1867, while still in Zurich, he wrote a long letter to Wilhelm Lübke in Stuttgart. He could hardly believe the emperor's appointment. "... it seems like a novel to me that I am appointed K. K. Professor of the first surgical clinic and the first director of the surgical training institute, appointed by His Apostolic Majesty the Emperor of Austria ..."
Billroth had only been in Vienna for a few days and was full of euphoria: "In Vienna I was with Brahms (Johannes B., composer) every day; Hanslick (Eduard H., music critic) was unfortunately away. I am very happy to find a circle of people there from whom one receives intellectual stimulation; perhaps I will be able to attract such a circle around my house if the practice generates the small amount of money necessary for this ..." Billroth continues his raves about Vienna to Lübke: "The people there [Vienna] are all happy and carefree; they work moderately and enjoy a lot. In any case, they must visit us in Vienna, as we are only somewhat at home." His euphoria was exceeded by that of his wife. "I cannot describe to you the fiery enthusiasm with which my wife accepted this calling." He ends the letter to Lübke with good cheer: "If our position in Vienna turns out as it seems, we will hardly move again, even if there were an opportunity to go to Berlin, but there will be enough inconveniences in Vienna too."
After he gave his inaugural lecture on October 11, 1867, the first disillusionment set in at Christmas. On December 24th, "Christmas Eve! Almost Midnight!" he begins his letter to Lübke, the art historian in Stuttgart. Personally, everything was sad. His "poor wife" had been sick for four weeks, the children kept getting sick, there was "no celebration, no tree, no children's joy!" He was confronted with reality professionally. Austria, specifically Vienna, took a lot of getting used to for Billroth. "Strange conditions here, right for Aventuries, Parvenus; everything sways, sways back and forth! Every momentary need is satisfied and yet no satisfaction - there is a lack of great goals..." He complains that the Minister of Education Anton Josef Hye (1807 to 1894) "cannot freely dispose of neither university nor school institutions nor teacher positions."
Billroth, who came from out of town, soon recognized the local small-mindedness. "In all provinces they only want natives at the small universities." Apparently it wasn't quite as bad in Vienna, although there were obviously noticeable reservations about Berlin. "There is a lot of individual talent, a younger generation is growing up, for example in my faculty, which awakens a lot of hope and joy. But there is a petty hatred against the Berlin School; they want to remain out of touch with German science because they cannot bear to be in the second place. A questionable point of view!"
He had set up his workplace at the clinic according to his own ideas (“operational amphitheater”). "Toughness and perseverance are necessary here and are effective because they are rare in Viennese people."
The time of the lonely letter writer continued on Christmas Eve. "It's now almost 1 o'clock and someone above me is still playing Strauss's waltz; but it's Christmas. The waltz player also seems to be alone..." Before he comes to the end, there are comments about previous encounters. "I haven't met any funny, lively, witty people yet. I already know all the writers here, but they're all terribly boring. But I have to find people here, funny people; I have to consume funny people from time to time, otherwise I'll dry up and die of thirst."
After a few months of no response, Billroth wrote a long letter to his surgeon friend Johann Friedrich August Esmarch in Kiel on January 9, 1869. Things were going well professionally. "My opponents have now fallen silent. [...] I have two good assistants and eight good sub-assistants (so-called operation pupils)." He didn't have anything else to complain about either; his private practice had "brought in just over 14,000 guilders (equivalent to around 233,400 euros) in 1868." Without “actually making any special effort.” He summed up with satisfaction: "In short, everything is going much better than I deserve."
But finding contacts in Viennese society was not easy; even his wife had to overcome difficulties. "My wife also doesn't have the easy, superficial nature of Viennese women, so it's difficult for her to find her place here." As a man, things didn't get any easier for him. "But even if I wanted to go to men's circles alone that would offer me stimulating entertainment, I would look for them in vain." He judged his colleagues harshly. "There is no talk of contact with colleagues from other faculties; I hardly have any names. Oppolzer (Johann, O., internist), Škoda (Josef, Š., internist), Rokitansky (Carl v., pathologist) are people close to their 70s [sic!], boring to die for!"
His letter dated May 21, 1871 to the internist Wilhelm His in Basel shows that he was now familiar with the Viennese nature and knew how things worked in Vienna. "Everything is cozy here. [...] Here we sing and play music and go to the theater and to Strauss and with him bury our heads in the sand of our comfort. It is a real city for art, especially for music." As euphoric as his opinion of the music city of Vienna was, his assessment of local science was sobering. “We are making only moderate progress.”
He began the year 1875 with a long letter to his friend Lübke in Stuttgart. At the beginning, Billroth regrets that Lübke does not live in Vienna and raises the rhetorical question, "I have great doubts as to whether you would be comfortable with a life full of nagging and fretting, as it cannot be otherwise in an official position, and whether it would be good for your health." In the end he writes, not without pride: "I also bought a house. […] at Alserstrasse 20 [...], a few houses further than the big hospital (General Hospital; today Altes AKH). Beautiful apartment, beautiful garden, terrible money!" Here he proves to be a caring family man. "Christel (his wife) is very happy with it; I'm happy with that too. She should have a comfortable home and I should work more nights than I do now."
A large apartment building with a memorial plaque above the entrance has stood at the address in question since 1906. "Theodor Billroth (1829–1894). As a doctor, teacher and researcher, he led the Vienna medical school to a high point; on January 29, 1881, he achieved the first successful gastric resection." In January and February 1881 he complained about the increasing Czech influence in Vienna ("The Czechs have gained the upper hand"; February 13, 1881 to the surgeon Wilhelm Baum in Göttingen), but the joy of the successful operation offered him consolation. "As far as the operation is concerned, I have to declare my gastric resection as cured [...]."
Apart from a number of subject-specific articles, Billroth's list of publications also includes a thick book (508 pages): "On the teaching and learning of the medical sciences at the universities of the German nation: along with general comments on universities; a cultural-historical study". The title alone suggests a reckoning. In the preface he states in advance that he was “prepared for particularly harsh criticism”. The readership was not “disappointed” in this regard; in particular, he openly wrote about his dislike of Jews. He remarked on page 154 that "despite all reflection and individual sympathy, I still feel the gap between purely German and purely Jewish blood as deeply today as a Teutonic might feel the gap between him and a Phoenician."
As expected, there was an outcry in the media. "The most reviled man in Vienna is currently undisputedly Professor Billroth." (Neues Fremden-Blatt, December 12, 1875). The Wiener Zeitung of December 16, 1875: "The students of the Jewish denomination from Hungary and Galicia appear to him to be poor and intellectually least developed. This is where all the professor's resentment against the 'young Israelites from Galicia and Hungary' is discharged, whom he accuses of studying medicine only out of vanity, just to earn money, of coming to Vienna to do side businesses in addition to their medical studies operate." In addition to media uproar, there was even turmoil at a Billroth lecture on December 10, 1875 between Jewish students and Billroth's followers.
A letter to the geologist Eduard Suess (1831 to 1914), who was then full professor of geology and general secretary of the Academy of Sciences, turns out to be a settlement with Vienna. On November 3, 1891, with his typical openness, he denounced the conditions at the university and in politics. The reason for the letter is apparently Vienna's application to host a conference of the Society of German Natural Scientists and Doctors in 1894, which he absolutely did not want to support. "The interest of the really competent doctors and the professors of the medical faculties in this meeting is virtually zero. The colleagues in my faculty want to make use of their vacation; no one would interrupt their vacation because of a meeting of naturalists, while most of them are attending the congresses in their field. I, too, would not leave my Tusculum at Abersee (Lake Wolfgang) because of a meeting of naturalists in Vienna."
He wasn't even proud of his own clinic. "I am ashamed when a colleague visits my clinic; every smallest German university has better equipped institutes than we do." He found harsh, insulting words for politicians and his superiors: "Our education ministers only ever make new regulations, new rigorous regulations; our hospital director is one of the biggest idiots I have ever met and was therefore accepted into the Austrian aristocracy."
He didn't see any progress: "The Imperial and Royal General Hospital is being managed like it was 100 years ago. Everything there is miserable; every expert can see that at first glance." Once again he pointed out the local reservations towards foreigners: "In addition, in the circles in Vienna that I know, there is at least a certain antipathy towards all foreigners."
His final sentence, "Maybe I see too black, but that's just how I see!", sounds like an apology and may put the harsh tone into perspective, but nothing changes in the basic message of the letter. (Thomas Hofmann, March 20, 2025)