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 harbor. 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 Ester-hazys, 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
labored.
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 laughingstock;" 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 recognized 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.