* * * * *
In the "London Daily Post" of the 19th August, 1738, there is the
following paragraph:
"The entertainment at Vauxhall Gardens concluded with the Coronation
Anthems of Mr. Handel, to the great pleasure of the company, and amidst
a great concourse of people."
The Coronation Anthems here alluded to are those composed for the
coronation of George II. He was too fond of music to be satisfied at his
coronation with that of the court composer, whom an old law compelled
him to have attached to the household, so he requested Handel to give
his assistance, who wrote the four anthems which are called the
Coronation Anthems. These were performed at Westminster, during the
ceremony of the 11th October, 1727, after having been solemnly rehearsed
in the cathedral on the 6th, in the presence of a numerous assemblage.
This work forms one of the most solid foundations of its author's glory.
"Zadok the Priest" especially is an inspiration of prodigious
grandeur--the chorus, "God Save the King" (not the National Anthem), is
comparable in beauty to the "Hallelujah" chorus, in the "Messiah."
Most of you are familiar with these anthems; they are always performed
at the Annual Meeting of Charity Children in St. Paul's;[E] and who ever
tires of listening to them? Grand music has this advantage over all the
other productions of the artistic faculties of man, that people are
never tired of it. It is like daily bread, an aliment always new, always
wished for. The oftener you hear a fine piece of music, the greater
pleasure you take in hearing it again. It charms you in proportion as
you have familiarized yourself with it, therefore it is not to be feared
that people will be tired of listening to the Coronation Anthems of
Handel to the end of time.
I have given you a quotation from the principal daily paper of the
period we are now speaking of; allow me to give you another. In the
"Daily Post" of the 18th April, 1738, there is the following
announcement:--
"We are informed, from very good authority, that there is now nearly
finished a statue of the justly celebrated Mr. Handel, exquisitely done,
by the ingenious Mr. Roubilliac, of St. Martin's Lane Statuary, out of
one entire block of white marble, which is to be placed in a grand
_nich_, erected on purpose, in the great grove of Vauxhall Gardens (The
great grove at Vauxhall Gardens!--Sic transit gloria mundi), at the sole
expense of Mr. Tyers, undertaker of the entertainment there, who, in
consideration of the real merit of that inimitable master, thought it
proper that his effigy should preside there, where his harmony has so
often charmed even the greatest crowds into the profoundest calm and
most decent behaviour."
And in the following copy, that of the 2nd May, 1738, there is the
following:--
"Last night Vauxhall was opened, and there was a considerable appearance
of both sexes. The several pieces of music played on that occasion had
never been heard before in the gardens: the company expressed the
greatest satisfaction at the marble statue of Mr. Handel."
Some of you may have seen this marble statue in the great grove at
Vauxhall Gardens. I never have; but we may all see the self-same statue
any day, in the great room at Exeter Hall.
Apropos of a statue--England has shown great gratitude to
Handel--Handel, a _foreigner_--has she shown anything like equal
gratitude to as great, if not a greater genius, and that genius _her own
son_?
Who ever loved England more dearly than Shakespeare? His was not merely
the love of a son for his mother, but it was as tender as that of a
mother for her son. His works are full of delicious passages, in which
his patriotism becomes manifest. No corner of the globe has been sung by
native poets as England has by Shakespeare. Many of you, I dare say, are
familiar with that beautiful passage in "Richard II." He is describing
England, and he says--
"This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress, built by Nature for herself,
Against infection and the hand of War;
This happy breed of men--this little earth;
This precious stone set in the silver sea."
Yes, Shakespeare so loved his country, that he divined by intuition the
heart-anguish of those who have lost theirs. Romeo, when Friar Laurence
tells him that he is banished from Verona, cries:--
"Ha! banishment? Be merciful; say _death_!
For exile hath more terror in his look;
Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'
_Friar._--Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
_Romeo._--There is no world outside Verona's walls!
Hast thou no poison mixed
To kill me? but 'banished!' 'banished!'
O Friar! the damned use that word in hell!"
He who spoke thus was Shakespeare, and yet _his_ compatriots could not
find the means of erecting a statue to him! Even at the present day in
London, where you may find in every square a herd of dukes, to whom not
even bronze can give celebrity, Shakespeare is nowhere to be found. His
image remains shut up in Westminster Abbey, instead of being set upon a
column whose height should dominate over the metropolis, as his genius
dominates over the world.[F]
I must necessarily pass over much that is interesting in the life of
Handel: recollect I have undertaken to give you only a "sketch," not a
history. My sketch, however, would be incomplete did I overlook his
greatest production, or his visit to "that generous and polite nation,"
as he was pleased to call Ireland, for which nation his masterpiece was
composed, and in which it was first performed.
For a long time Handel had been wished for in Ireland. The Duke of
Devonshire, the Lord Lieutenant of the country at that period, had
directly invited him to pay a visit to the island, and the Irish
professed great admiration for him.
Almost all the musical societies of Dublin, which were composed of
amateurs, gave their entertainments for the furtherance of charitable
objects. Handel put himself into communication with the most important
of these, that "for the benefit and enlargement (freedom) of poor
distressed prisoners for debt," and promised to give an oratorio for its
benefit. For this society he composed the "Messiah," the masterpiece of
this great master. Whoever has listened to his music will admit that its
most distinctive character is the sublime. No one, without exception,
neither Beethoven nor Mozart, has ever risen nearer to the grandeur of
the ideal than Handel did, and he was never more sublime than in the
"Messiah;" and, remembering this, read the dates which are inscribed
with his own hand upon the manuscript:--
"Commenced 22nd August, 1741.
"End of 1st part, 28th August.
"End of 2nd, 6th September.
"End of 3rd, 12th September, 1741.
"Filled up on the 14th."
This Herculean work was therefore accomplished in twenty-three days; and
Handel was then fifty-six years old!
It is a strange phenomenon: when men of genius are to die YOUNG, they
complete their masterpieces at _once_. Mozart rendered up his soul at
thirty-nine; Raphael painted "The School of Athens" at twenty-five, and
"The Transfiguration" at thirty-seven; Paul Potter his "Bull" at
twenty-two; Rossini composed "The Barber of Sevile" when he was
twenty-three, "William Tell" at thirty-seven, and afterwards wrote no
more. If these men had lived longer, it would have been impossible for
them to surpass themselves.
Great artists, on the other hand, who are destined to have _long lives_
are _slow in production_, or rather they produce their best things in
the _decline of life_. Handel, _e.g._, composed his greatest works, "The
Funeral Anthem," "Israel," "The Messiah," "Samson," "The Dettingen Te
Deum," and "Judas Macabbeus," _after he was fifty-two_ years old. Gluck
had not composed one of his operas when he was fifty. Haydn was an old
man of sixty-five when he produced the "Creation." Murillo became
Murillo only at forty years of age. Poussin was seventy when he painted
"The Deluge," which is the most poetically great of all his noble
pictures. Michael Angelo counted more than sixty years when he encrusted
his incomparable fresco, "The Last Judgment," upon the walls of the
Sistine Chapel; and he was eighty-seven when he raised the cupola of St.
Peter's to the heavens. And our own Milton was sixty-three when he
wrote "Paradise Lost!"
But, to return--Handel set out on his journey and charitable mission,
4th August, 1741. It is to this journey Pope alludes in his "Dunciad:"--
"But soon, ah! soon, rebellion will commence,
If music meanly borrows aid from sense;
Strong in new arms, lo! giant Handel stands,
Like bold Briareus, with his hundred hands,
To stir, to rouse, to shake the soul he comes,
And Jove's own thunders follow Mars' drums."
He was stayed by contrary winds in the ancient and picturesque city of
Chester. Dr. Burney says, "I was at the public school in Chester, and
very well remember seeing him smoke a pipe over a dish of coffee at the
Exchange coffee house; and, being extremely curious to see so
extraordinary a man, I watched him narrowly as long as he remained in
Chester, where he stayed on account of the wind being unfavourable for
his embarking at Park Gate."
Wishing to employ this delay in trying over some pieces of his new
oratorio--the Messiah, he sought for some one who could read music at
sight, and a house painter named Janson was indicated to him as one of
the best musicians attached to the Cathedral. A meeting took place, but
poor Janson managed so badly, that the irascible composer became purple
with anger, and after swearing, as was his wont, in four or five
languages at a time, cried out, "You Schountrel! tit you not tell me dat
you could sing at soite?" "Yes sir," replied the good fellow, "but not
at _first sight_." Handel upon this burst out laughing, and the
rehearsal proceeded no further.
He arrived in Dublin on the 18th November, 1741. It was not till April
following, however, that the Messiah was for the first time heard. In
the Dublin papers of March 1742, the following advertisement appeared:--
"For the relief of the prisoners in the several gaols, and for the
support of Mercer's Hospital; on Monday, the 12th April, will be
performed at the Music Hall, in Fishamble-street, Mr. Handel's new grand
Oratorio called the _Messiah_."
The performance having taken place, the newspapers vied with each other
in commendation and praise. I give you an extract from one:--
"On Tuesday last, (the day I suppose was changed), Mr. Handel's sacred
grand Oratorio, the Messiah, was performed in the New Music Hall, in
Fishamble-street. The best judges allowed it to be the most finished
piece of music. Words are wanted to express the delight it afforded to
the admiring crowded audience. The sublime, the grand and the tender,
adapted to the most elevated, majestic, and moving words, conspired to
transport and charm the ravished heart and ear. It is but justice to Mr.
Handel, that the world should know, he generously gave the money arising
from this grand performance to be equally shared by the society for
relieving prisoners, the Charitable Infirmary, and Mercer's Hospital,
for which they will ever gratefully remember his name.
This is high encomium, but the audience paid him higher still. When the
chorus all struck up, "For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth," in the
Hallelujah, they were so transported that they all together started up
and remained standing till the chorus ended."
A few days after the performance of the Messiah, Handel waited on Lord
Kinnoul, with whom he was particularly acquainted. His Lordship, as was
natural, paid him some compliments on the noble _entertainment_ which he
had lately given in the town. "My Lord, said Handel, I should be sorry
if I _only entertained them_, I wish TO MAKE THEM BETTER."
The Messiah has remained the most popular of Oratorios. It is never
announced in anything like a fitting manner without attracting the
public. It invariably forms part of the programme at all the festivals,
and the day on which it is performed is always the most productive. The
Sacred Harmonic Societies particularly give it every year for the
benefit of distressed musicians. Truly does it deserve the touching
eulogy that "it has fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and fostered the
orphans."
But I must hasten to a conclusion. Before I conclude this sketch of
Handel, I must introduce you to one more of his Oratorios, "L'Allegro."
This magnificent composition has been eulogized by an eminent poet,--a
beautiful pigeon! and an old parson! I will briefly tell you the eulogy
of each, for brief is the eulogy itself.