Dr. Franz Hartmann [Obituary]

By Dr. [Harald] Grävell^[1]

Translation from German by Robert Hutwohl

On the night of August 6-7, 1912, the oldest German Theosophist, the famous Franz Hartmann, died in Kempten, where he happened to be passing through. The city of his youth also became the place of his death. A few words about the seventy-four-year-old might be appropriate at his open grave.

With Franz Hartmann, the first generation of German theosophists sank into the grave. He still lived in the spirit of the founders, Mrs. H. P. Blavatsky and the venerable Colonel Olcott, the old titulary of the Grail Castle. Through his numerous writings and his excellent journal, “The Lotusblüten,” he popularized theosophical teachings. Even Tolstoy cites him in his free-religious breviary.

Born and educated in Germany, after participating as a volunteer in the 1870 campaign, he went to America, where he worked as a physician. From there, he visited India to study the wisdom teachings at their source. Upon returning to Europe, he joined the Vienna Lodge founded by Eckstein and me in 1887. Later, he founded his own Theosophical Society, independent of Adyar, which, understandably, was greatly resented. He was a thoroughly independent character who found it difficult to conform. He perhaps also despised excessively the external forms and ties that are necessary in our imperfect world if one wishes to achieve success. He was always helpful and selfless.

Most recently, he lived a very secluded life in Algund above Merano with an elderly girlfriend, only undertaking lecture tours from time to time.

Now death has taken this tireless man from us. Hardly anyone was ever as diligent and active as he. Only when all his essays, currently in manuscript form, have been published will one be able to get a picture of his intellectual activity, which was almost all-encompassing. He viewed everything from above as much as possible, often somewhat sarcastically in his style.

Although he seems to repeat himself in certain matters, a complete edition of his works, which I suggested (for his 70th birthday), would be a good deed. Some of his works are so monumental that one would wish for an inexpensive popular edition, for example, “Black and White Magic” or the translations of the Bhagavad-Gita. He was also poetically inclined, and the poet and fabulist sometimes ran wild with him. His pessimistic nonchalance sometimes caused him to take unimportant things a little too lightly; his claims, on superficial inspection, sometimes seemed to lack sufficient foundation.

His personality was engaging. Especially in his correspondence, his exceptionally beautiful, flowing handwriting revealed him at his best. His conscientiousness was also clearly evident here. He was much slandered and misunderstood. Anyone who has read his short autobiography, which testifies to his great simplicity of mind and unpretentiousness, will admit that he was no adventurer, but a knowledge-hungry alchemist, like the Paracelsus he glorified. He had something of this bold man about him, especially in the incredible haste and restlessness of his ever-moving life. This was already evident in his horoscope.

Now he rests from his labors in the old town. Hopefully, he will be honored with a fitting gravestone and memorial plaque at the house where he died.

We live in an age of honors. Anyone who is a Theosophist will certainly despise such an honor, and Hartmann once told me many years ago that he couldn’t care less where or how he was buried. But from a human standpoint, it is certainly welcome if a committee is formed that does not deny the introducer of theosophy in Germany the final, high honor accorded so many lesser writers. It would be the first theosophical monument.

But we, who knew him personally, will remain loyal to him even beyond the grave. His life was that of a hero, and at his grave, in recognition of him, one might say, intellectually and martially heroic activity, we can utter the beautiful words that young Fortinbras exclaims upon seeing Hamlet: “Go, order the soldiers to fire!”

Dr. Grävell.

Note:

^[1] Dr. Franz Hartmann [Obituary] Dr. [Harald] Grävell. Theosophie 3, no. 6 (September 1912) [Translation from the German by Robert Hutwohl, ©2025]