The period of Handel's highest development had now arrived. For seven
years his genius had been slowly but surely maturing, in obedience
to the inner law of his being. He had struggled long in the bonds of
operatic composition, but even here his innovations showed conclusively
how he was reaching out toward the form with which his name was to
be associated through all time. The year 1739 was one of prodigious
activity. The oratorio of "Saul" was produced, of which the "Dead March"
is still recognized as one of the great musical compositions of all
time, being one of the few intensely solemn symphonies written in a
major key. Several works now forgotten were composed, and the great
"Israel in Egypt" was written in the incredibly short space of
twenty-seven days. Of this work a distinguished writer on music says:
Handel was now fifty-five years old, and had entered, after many a
long and weary contest, upon his last and greatest creative period.
His genius culminates in the 'Israel.' Elsewhere he has produced longer
recitatives and more pathetic arias; nowhere has he written finer tenor
songs than 'The enemy said,' or finer duets than 'The Lord is a man of
war;' and there is not in the history of music an example of choruses
piled up like so many Ossas on Pelions in such majestic strength, and
hurled in open defiance at a public whose ears were itching for Italian
love-lays and English ballads. In these twenty-eight colossal choruses
we perceive at once a reaction against and a triumph over the tastes of
the age. The wonder is, not that the 'Israel' was unpopular, but that
it should have been tolerated; but Handel, while he appears to have been
for years driven by the public, had been, in reality, driving them. His
earliest oratorio, 'Il Trionfo del Tempo' (composed in Italy), had
but two choruses; into his operas more and more were introduced, with
disastrous consequences; but when, at the zenith of his strength, he
produced a work which consisted almost entirely of these unpopular
peculiarities, the public treated him with respect, and actually sat
out three performances in one season! In addition to these two great
oratorios, our composer produced the beautiful music to Dryden's
"St. Cæcilia Ode," and Milton's "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso."
Henceforth neither praise nor blame could turn Handel from his appointed
course. He was not yet popular with the musical _dilettanti_, but we
find no more catering to an absurd taste, no more writing of silly
operatic froth.
Our composer had always been very fond of the Irish, and, at the
invitation of the lord-lieutenant and prominent Dublin amateurs,
he crossed the channel in 1741. He was received with the greatest
enthusiasm, and his house became the resort of all the musical people in
the city of Dublin. One after another his principal works were produced
before admiring audiences in the new Music Hall in Fishamble Street. The
crush to hear the "Allegro" and "Penseroso" at the opening performances
was so great that the doors had to be closed. The papers declared there
never had been seen such a scene before in Dublin.
Handel gave twelve performances at very short intervals, comprising
all of his finest works. In these concerts the "Acis and Galatea" and
"Alexander's Feast" were the most admired; but the enthusiasm culminated
in the rendition of the "Messiah," produced for the first time on April
13, 1742. The performance was a beneficiary one in aid of poor and
distressed prisoners for debt in the Marshalsea in Dublin. So, by a
remarkable coincidence, the first performance of the "Messiah" literally
meant deliverance to the captives. The principal singers were Mrs.
Cibber (daughter-in-law of Colley Cibber, and afterward one of the
greatest actresses of her time), Mrs. Avoglio, and Mr. Dubourg. The
town was wild with excitement. Critics, poets, fine ladies, and men of
fashion tore rhetoric to tatters in their admiration. A clergyman so
far forgot his Bible in his rapture as to exclaim to Mrs. Cibber, at
the close of one of her airs, "Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven
thee." The penny-a-liners wrote that "words were wanting to express the
exquisite delight," etc. And--supreme compliment of all, for Handel was
a cynical bachelor--the fine ladies consented to leave their hoops at
home for the second performance, that a couple of hundred or so extra
listeners might be accommodated. This event was the grand triumph of
Handel's life. Years of misconception, neglect, and rivalry were swept
out of mind in the intoxicating delight of that night's success.