Haydn landed in England after a voyage which delighted him in spite of
his terror of the sea--a feeling which seems to be usual among people
of very high musical sensibilities. In his diary we find
recorded--"By four o'clock we had come twenty miles. The large vessel
stood out to sea five hours longer, till the tide carried it into the
harbour. I remained on deck the whole passage, in order to gaze my
fill at that huge monster--the ocean."
The novelty of Haydn's concerts--of which he was to give twenty at
fifty pounds apiece--consisted of their being his own symphonies,
conducted by himself in person. Haydn's name, during his serene,
uneventful years with the Esterhazys, had become world-famous. His
reception was most brilliant. Dinner parties, receptions, invitations
without end, attested the enthusiasm of the sober English; and his
appearance at concerts and public meetings was the signal for stormy
applause. How, in the press of all this pleasure in which he was
plunged, he continued to compose the great number of works produced at
this time, is a marvel. He must have been little less than a Briareus.
It was in England that he wrote the celebrated Salomon symphonies--the
"twelve grand," as they are called. They may well be regarded as the
crowning-point of Haydn's efforts in that form of writing. He took
infinite pains with them, as, indeed, is well proved by an examination
of the scores. More elaborate, more beautiful, and scored for a fuller
orchestra than any others of the one hundred and twenty or thereabouts
which he composed, the Salomon set also bears marks of the devout and
pious spirit in which Haydn ever laboured.
It is interesting to see how, in many of the great works which have
won the world's admiration, the religion of the author has gone
hand-in-hand with his energy and his genius; and we find Haydn not
ashamed to indorse his score with his prayer and praise, or to offer
the fruits of his talents to the Giver of all. Thus, the symphony in D
(No. 6) bears on the first page of the score the inscription, "_In
nomine Domini: di me Giuseppe Haydn, maia 1791, in London_;" and on
the last page, "_Fine, Laus Deo, 238_."
That genius may sometimes be trusted to judge of its own work may be
gathered from Haydn's own estimate of these great symphonies.
"Sir," said the well-satisfied Salomon, after a successful performance
of one of them, "I am strongly of opinion that you will never surpass
these symphonies."
"No!" replied Haydn; "I never mean to try."
The public, as we have said, was enthusiastic; but such a full banquet
of severe orchestral music was a severe trial to many, and not a few
heads would keep time to the music by steady nods during the slow
movements. Haydn, therefore, composed what is known as the "Surprise"
symphony. The slow movement is of the most lulling and soothing
character, and about the time the audience should be falling into its
first snooze, the instruments having all died away into the softest
_pianissimo_, the full orchestra breaks out with a frightful BANG. It
is a question whether the most vigorous performance of this symphony
would startle an audience nowadays, accustomed to the strident effects
of Wagner and Liszt. A wag in a recent London journal tells us,
indeed, that at the most critical part in the work a gentleman opened
one eye sleepily and said, "Come in."
Simple-hearted Haydn was delighted at the attention lavished on him in
London. He tells us how he enjoyed his various entertainments and
feastings by such dignitaries as William Pitt, the Lord Chancellor,
and the Duke of Lids (Leeds). The gentlemen drank freely the whole
night, and the songs, the crazy uproar, and smashing of glasses were
very great. He went down to stay with the Prince of Wales (George
IV.), who played on the violoncello, and charmed the composer by his
kindness. "He is the handsomest man on God's earth. He has an
extraordinary love of music, and a great deal of feeling, but very
little money."
To stem the tide of Haydn's popularity, the Italian faction had
recourse to Giardini; and they even imported a pet pupil of Haydn,
Pleyel, to conduct the rival concerts. Our composer kept his temper,
and wrote, "He [Pleyel] behaves himself with great modesty." Later we
read, "Pleyel's presumption is a public laughing-stock;" but he adds,
"I go to all his concerts and applaud him."
Far different were the amenities that passed between Haydn and
Giardini. "I won't know the German hound," says the latter. Haydn
wrote, "I attended his concert at Ranelagh, and he played the fiddle
like a hog."
Among the pleasant surprises Haydn had in England was his visit to
Herschel, the great astronomer, in whom he recognised one of his old
oboe-players. The big telescope amazed him, and so did the patient
star-gazer, who often sat out-of-doors in the most intense cold for
five or six hours at a time.
Our composer returned to Vienna in May 1795, with the little fortune
of 12,000 florins in his pocket.