CHAPTER VI. SECOND LONDON VISIT--1794-1795

Beethoven--Takes Lessons from Haydn--The Relations of the Two

Composers--The Haydn Museum--Haydn starts for London--His

Servant Elssler--The Salomon Concerts--A "Smart" Drummer--New

Acquaintances--Haydn at Bath--Opera Concerts--Kingly Courtesies--A

Valuable Parrot--Rohrau Reminiscences--Esterhaz once more--The "Austrian

Hymn"--Haydn's Love for It--A Charge of Plagiarism.

Haydn left London some time towards the end of June 1792. He had

intended to visit Berlin, in response to an invitation from King

Frederick William II., but he altered his route in order to meet Prince

Anton Esterhazy, who was at Frankfort for the coronation of the Emperor

Francis II.

Beethoven

A more interesting meeting took place at Bonn. Beethoven, then a young

man of twenty-two, was still living with his people in the Wenzegasse,

but already arrangements had been made by the Elector for his paying a

somewhat lengthened visit to Vienna in order to prosecute his studies

there. Since the death of Mozart, Haydn had become the most brilliant

star in the musical firmament, and it was only natural that the rising

genius should look to him for practical help and encouragement. It so

happened that the Elector's Band, of which Beethoven was a member, gave

a dinner to Haydn at Godesberg. The occasion was opportune. Beethoven

submitted a cantata to the guest of the evening which Haydn "greatly

praised, warmly encouraging the composer to proceed with his studies."

The name of the cantata has not been ascertained, though Thayer

conjectures it to have been on the death of the Emperor Leopold II.

Whatever it was, the fact of Haydn's approval would make it an easy

matter to discuss the subject of lessons, whether now or later.

Beethoven did not start for Vienna until November, and it appears that

immediately before that date some formal communication had been made

with Haydn in reference to his studies. On the 29th of October Count

Waldstein wrote:

"DEAR BEETHOVEN,--You are travelling to Vienna in fulfillment of your

long-cherished wish. The genius of Mozart is still weeping and bewailing

the death of her favourite. With the inexhaustible Haydn she found a

refuge, but no occupation, and is now waiting to leave him and join

herself to someone else. Labour assiduously, and receive Mozart's spirit

from the hands of Haydn."

This was not exactly complimentary to Haydn, but Beethoven doubtless had

the good sense not to repeat the count's words. When the young artist

arrived in Vienna, he found Haydn living at the Hamberger Haus, No.

992 (since demolished), and thither he went for his lessons. From

Beethoven's own notes of expenses we find that his first payment was

made to Haydn on December 12. The sum entered is 8 groschen (about

9 1/2 d.), which shows at least that Haydn was not extravagant in

his charges.

Master and Pupil

Beethoven's studies were in strict counterpoint, and the text-book was

that same "Gradus ad Parnassum" of Fux which Haydn had himself contended

with in the old days at St Stephen's. How many exercises Beethoven wrote

cannot be said, but 245 have been preserved, of which, according to

Nottebohm, Haydn corrected only forty-two. Much ink has been wasted in

discussing the relations of these distinguished composers. There is no

denying that Haydn neglected his young pupil, but one may find another

excuse for the neglect besides that of his increasing age and his

engrossing occupations. Beethoven was already a musical revolutionist:

Haydn was content to walk in the old ways. The two men belonged almost

to different centuries, and the disposition which the younger artist

had for "splendid experiments" must have seemed to the mature musician

little better than madness and licentious irregularity. "He will never

do anything in decent style," was Albrechtsberger's dictum after giving

Beethoven a series of lessons.

Haydn's opinion of Beethoven's future was not so dogmatically expressed;

but he must have been sorely puzzled by a pupil who looked upon even

consecutive fifths as an open question, and thought it a good thing to

"learn occasionally what is according to rule that one may hereafter

come to what is contrary to rule." It is said that Haydn persisted

in regarding Beethoven, not as a composer at all but as a pianoforte

player; and certainly Beethoven regarded Haydn as being behind the age.

That he was unjust to Haydn cannot be gainsaid. He even went so far as

to suspect Haydn of willfully trying to retard him in his studies, a

proceeding of which Haydn was altogether incapable. For many years he

continued to discharge splenetic remarks about his music, and he was

always annoyed at being called his pupil. "I never learned anything from

Haydn," he would say; "he never would correct my mistakes." When, the

day after the production of his ballet music to Prometheus, he met Haydn

in the street, the old man observed to him: "I heard your music last

night; I liked it very well." To which Beethoven, alluding to Haydn's

oratorio, replied: "Oh! dear master, it is far from being a CREATION."

The doubtful sincerity of this remark may be inferred from an anecdote

quoted by Moscheles. Haydn had been told that Beethoven was speaking

depreciatingly of "The Creation." "That is wrong of him," he said. "What

has HE written, then? His Septet? Certainly that is beautiful; nay,

splendid."

Beethoven on Haydn

It is hardly necessary to say who comes out best in these passages

at arms. Yet we must not be too hard on Beethoven. That he recognized

Haydn's genius as a composer no careful reader of his biography can

fail to see. As Pohl takes pains to point out, he spoke highly of

Haydn whenever opportunity offered, often chose one of his themes when

improvising in public, scored one of his quartets for his own use, and

lovingly preserved the autograph of one of the English symphonies. That

he came in the end to realize his true greatness is amply proved by

the story already related which represents him as exclaiming on his

death-bed upon the fact of Haydn having been born in a common peasant's

cottage.

In the meantime, although Beethoven was dissatisfied with his progress

under Haydn, there was no open breach between the two. It is true that

the young musician sought another teacher--one Schenck, a well-known

Viennese composer--but this was done without Haydn's knowledge, out of

consideration, we may assume, for his feelings. That master and pupil

were still on the best of terms may be gathered from their having been

at Eisenstadt together during the summer of 1793. In the January of

the following year Haydn set out on his second visit to England, and

Beethoven transferred himself to Albrechtsberger.

The Haydn Museum

Haydn's life in Vienna during the eighteen months which intervened

between the two London visits was almost totally devoid of incident. His

wife, it will be remembered, had written to him in England, asking for

money to buy a certain house which she fancied for a "widow's home."

Haydn was astute enough not to send the money, but on his return to

Vienna, finding the house in every way to his liking, he bought

it himself. Frau Haydn died seven years later, "and now," said the

composer, speaking in 1806, "I am living in it as a widower." The house

is situated in the suburb of Vienna known as Gumpendorf. It is No. 19

of the Haydngasse and bears a marble memorial tablet, affixed to it in

1840. The pious care of the composer's admirers has preserved it almost

exactly as it was in Haydn's day, and has turned it into a kind of

museum containing portraits and mementoes of the master, the original

manuscript of "The Creation," and other interesting relics.

Starts for London

Haydn started on his journey to England on January 19, 1794, Salomon

having brought him, under a promise to return with six new symphonies

which he was to conduct in person. This time he travelled down the

Rhine, and he had not been many days on the way when news reached him of

the death of Prince Anton Esterhazy, who had very reluctantly given him

leave of absence. On the occasion of the first London visit Salomon had

been his travelling companion; now, feeling doubtless the encumbrance

of increasing years, Haydn took his servant and copyist, Johann Elssler,

along with him.

Honest Elssler

It may be noted in passing that he entertained a very warm regard for

Elssler, whose father had been music copyist to Prince Esterhazy. He was

born at Eisenstadt in 1769, and, according to Pohl, lived the whole of

his life with Haydn, first as copyist, and then as general servant and

factotum. It was Elssler who tended the composer in his last years, a

service recompensed by the handsome bequest of 6000 florins, which he

lived to enjoy until 1843. No man, it has been said, is a hero to his

valet, but "Haydn was to Elssler a constant subject of veneration, which

he carried so far that when he thought himself unobserved he would stop

with the censer before his master's portrait as if it were the altar."

This "true and honest servant" copied a large amount of Haydn's

music, partly in score, partly in separate parts, much of which is now

treasured as the autograph of Haydn, though the handwritings of the two

are essentially different. It is a pity that none of the earlier writers

on Haydn thought of applying to Elssler for particulars of the private

life of the composer. He could have given information on many obscure

points, and could have amplified the details of this second London

visit, about which we know much less than we know about the former

visit.

The Salomon Concerts

Salomon's first concert had been arranged for the 3rd of February, but

Haydn did not arrive until the 4th, and the series accordingly began

upon the 10th. Twelve concerts were given in all, and with the most

brilliant success. The six new symphonies commissioned by Salomon were

performed, and the previous set were also repeated, along with some new

quartets. Of the many contemporary notices of the period, perhaps the

most interesting is that which appears in the Journal of Luxury and

Fashion, published at Weimar in July 1794. It is in the form of a London

letter, written on March 25, under the heading of "On the Present State

and Fashion of Music in England." After speaking of Salomon's efforts

on behalf of classical music and of the praise due to him for his

performance of the quartets of "our old favourite, Haydn," the writer

continues: "But what would you now say to his new symphonies composed

expressly for these concerts, and directed by himself at the piano? It

is truly wonderful what sublime and august thoughts this master weaves

into his works. Passages often occur which render it impossible to

listen to them without becoming excited. We are altogether carried

away by admiration, and forced to applaud with hand and mouth. This is

especially the case with Frenchmen, of whom we have so many here that

all public places are filled with them. You know that they have great

sensibility, and cannot restrain their transports, so that in the midst

of the finest passages in soft adagios they clap their hands in loud

applause and thus mar the effect. In every symphony of Haydn the adagio

or andante is sure to be repeated each time, after the most vehement

encores. The worthy Haydn, whose personal acquaintance I highly value,

conducts himself on these occasions in the most modest manner. He is

indeed a good-hearted, candid, honest man, esteemed and beloved by all."

Several notable incidents occurred at the Salomon Concerts. It has been

remarked, as "an event of some interest in musical history," that Haydn

and Wilhelm Cramer appeared together at one concert, Cramer as leader of

the orchestra, Haydn conducting from the pianoforte. But Cramer was

not a genius of the first rank--his compositions are of the slightest

importance--and there was nothing singular about his appearing along

with Haydn. He had been leader at the Handel Festivals at Westminster

Abbey in 1784 and 1787, and was just the man to be engaged for an

enterprise like that of Salomon's.

A "Smart" Drummer

An anecdote told of Haydn in connection with one of the rehearsals is

better worth noting. The drummer was found to be absent. "Can anyone

here play the drum?" inquired Haydn, looking round from his seat at the

piano. "I can," promptly replied young George (afterwards Sir George)

Smart, who was sitting among the violinists. Smart, who lived to become

the doyen of the musical profession in England, had never handled a

drumstick before, and naturally failed to satisfy the conductor. Haydn

took the drumstick from him and "showed to the astonished orchestra a

new and unexpected attitude in their leader." Then, turning to Smart,

he remarked: "That is how we use the drumsticks in Germany." "Oh, very

well," replied the unabashed youth, "if you like it better in that way

we can also do it so in London."

New Acquaintances

Haydn made several new acquaintances during this visit, the most notable

being, perhaps, Dragonetti, the famous double-bass player, who had

accompanied Banti, the eminent prima donna, to London in 1794. Banti had

been discovered as a chanteuse in a Paris cafe, and afterwards attracted

much notice by her fine voice both in Paris and London. "She is the

first singer in Italy, and drinks a bottle of wine every day," said one

who knew her. In her journeys through Germany, Austria and Italy she won

many triumphs. Haydn composed for her an air, "Non Partir," in E, which

she sang at his benefit. As for "Old Drag," the familiar designation of

the distinguished bassist, his eccentricities must have provided Haydn

with no little amusement. He always took his dog Carlo with him into the

orchestra, and Henry Phillips tells us that, having a strange weakness

for dolls, he often carried one of them to the festivals as his wife!

On his way to Italy in 1798 Dragonetti visited Haydn in Vienna, and was

much delighted with the score of "The Creation," just completed. Several

eminent violinists were in London at the time of Haydn's visit. The most

distinguished of them was perhaps Felice de Giardini, who, at the age of

fourscore, produced an oratorio at Ranelagh Gardens, and even played

a concerto. He had a perfectly volcanic temper, and hated Haydn as the

devil is said to hate holy water. "I don't wish to see the German dog,"

he remarked in the composer's hearing, when urged to pay him a visit.

Haydn, as a rule, was kindly disposed to all brother artists, but to be

called a dog was too much, He went to hear Giardini, and then got even

with him by noting in his diary that he "played like a pig."

The accounts preserved of Haydn's second visit to England are,

as already remarked, far less full than those of the first visit.

Unconnected memoranda appear in his diary, some of which are given by

Griesinger and Dies; but they are of comparatively little interest.

During the summer of 1794 he moved about the country a good deal. Thus,

about the 26th of August, he paid a visit to Waverley Abbey, whose

"Annales Waverliensis" suggested to Scott the name of his first romance.

The ruined condition of the venerable pile--it dates from 1128--set

Haydn moralizing on the "Protestant heresy" which led the "rascal mob"

to tear down "what had once been a stronghold of his own religion."

Haydn at Bath

In the following month he spent three days in Bath with Dr Burney,

and Rauzzini, the famous tenor, who had retired to the fashionable

watering-place after a successful career of thirteen years as a singer

and teacher in London. Rauzzini is little more than a name now, but for

Haydn's sake it is worth recalling his memory. Born at Rome in 1747,

his striking beauty of face and figure had drawn him into certain

entanglements which made it expedient for him to leave his native land.

He was as fond of animals as Dragonetti was of dolls, and had erected a

memorial tablet in his garden to his "best friend," otherwise his dog.

"Turk was a faithful dog and not a man," ran the inscription, which

reminds one of Schopenhauer's cynical observation that if it were not

for the honest faces of dogs, we should forget the very existence of

sincerity. When Haydn read the inscription he immediately proceeded to

make use of the words for a four-part canon. It was presumably at this

time that he became acquainted with Dr Henry Harington, the musician

and author, who had removed to Bath in 1771, where he had founded the

Harmonic Society. Haydn dedicated one of his songs to him in return for

certain music and verses, which explains the following otherwise cryptic

note of Clementi's, published for the first time recently by Mr J. S.

Shedlock: "The first Dr [Harington] having bestowed much praise on

the second Dr [Haydn], the said second Dr, out of doctorial gratitude,

returns the 1st Dr thanks for all favours recd., and praises in his

turn the said 1st Dr most handsomely." The title of Haydn's song was "Dr

Harington's Compliments."

Opera Concerts

The composer returned to London at the beginning of October for the

winter season's concerts. These began, as before, in February, and were

continued once a week up to the month of May. This time they took the

form of opera concerts, and were given at the "National School of Music"

in the new concert-room of the King's Theatre. No fresh symphonies were

contributed by Haydn for this series, though some of the old ones always

found a place in the programmes. Two extra concerts were given on May

21 and June 1, at both of which Haydn appeared; but the composer's last

benefit concert was held on May 4. On this occasion the programme

was entirely confined to his own compositions, with the exception of

concertos by Viotti, the violinist, and Ferlendis, the oboist. Banti

sang the aria already mentioned as having been written expressly for

her, but, according to the composer, "sang very scanty." The main

thing, however, was that the concert proved a financial success, the net

receipts amounting to 400 pounds. "It is only in England," said Haydn,

"that one can make 4000 gulden in one evening."

Haydn did indeed remarkably well in London. As Pohl says, "he returned

from it with increased powers, unlimited fame, and a competence for

life. By concerts, lessons, and symphonies, not counting his other

compositions, he had again made 1200 pounds, enough to relieve him from

all anxiety as to the future. He often said afterwards that it was not

till he had been to England that he became famous in Germany; by which

he meant that although his reputation was high at home, the English were

the first to give him public homage and liberal remuneration."

Kingly Courtesies

It is superfluous to say that Haydn was as much of a "lion" in London

society during his second visit as he had been on the previous occasion.

The attention bestowed on him in royal circles made that certain, for

"society" are sheep, and royalty is their bell-wether. The Prince

of Wales had rather a fancy for him, and commanded his attendance at

Carlton House no fewer than twenty-six times. At one concert at York

House the programme was entirely devoted to his music. George III and

Queen Caroline were present, and Haydn was presented to the King by the

Prince. "You have written a great deal, Dr Haydn," said the King. "Yes,

sire," was the reply; "more than is good for me." "Certainly not,"

rejoined His Majesty. He was then presented to the Queen, and asked to

sing some German songs. "My voice," he said, pointing to the tip of

his little finger, "is now no bigger than that"; but he sat down to

the pianoforte and sang his song, "Ich bin der Verliebteste." He was

repeatedly invited by the Queen to Buckingham Palace, and she tried to

persuade him to settle in England. "You shall have a house at Windsor

during the summer months," she said, and then, looking towards the King,

added, "We can sometimes make music tete-a-tete." "Oh! I am not jealous

of Haydn," interposed the King; "he is a good, honourable German." "To

preserve that reputation," replied Haydn, "is my greatest pride."

Most of Haydn's appearances were made at the concerts regularly

organized for the entertainment of royalty at Carlton House and

Buckingham Palace, and Haydn looked to be paid for his services. Whether

the King and the Prince expected him to give these services in return

for the supposed honour they had conferred upon him does not appear.

At all events, Haydn sent in a bill for 100 guineas sometime after his

return to Vienna, and the amount was promptly paid by Parliament.

A Valuable Parrot

Among the other attentions bestowed upon him while in London, mention

should be made of the present of a talking parrot. Haydn took the bird

with him, and it was sold for 140 pounds after his death. Another gift

followed him to Vienna. A Leicester manufacturer named Gardiner--he

wrote a book on The Music of Nature, and other works--sent him half a

dozen pairs of cotton stockings, into which were woven the notes of the

Austrian Hymn, "My mother bids me bind my hair," the Andante from

the "Surprise" Symphony, and other thematic material. These musical

stockings, as a wit has observed, must have come as a REAL surprise

to Haydn. It was this same Leicester manufacturer, we may remark

parenthetically, who annotated the translation of Bombet's Life of

Haydn, made by his fellow-townsman, Robert Brewin, in 1817.

Haydn's return from London was hastened by the receipt of a

communication from Esterhaz. Prince Anton had been succeeded by his

son Nicolaus, who was as fond of music as the rest of his family, and

desired to keep his musical establishment up to the old standard. During

the summer of 1794 he had written to Haydn, asking if the composer would

care to retain his appointment as director. Haydn was only too glad to

assent; and now that his London engagements were fulfilled, he saw no

reason for remaining longer in England. Accordingly he started for home

on the 15th of August 1795, travelling by way of Hamburg, Berlin and

Dresden, and arriving at Vienna in the early days of September.

Rohrau Reminiscences

Soon after his return he was surprised to receive an invitation to visit

his native Rohrau. When he arrived there he found that a monument, with

a marble bust of himself, had been erected to his honour in a park near

his birthplace. This interesting memorial consists of a square pillar

surmounting three stone steps, with an inscription on each side. The

visit was productive of mingled feelings to Haydn. He took his friends

to see the old thatch-roofed cottage, and, pointing to the familiar

stove, still in its place, modestly remarked that there his career as a

musician began--a reminiscence of the now far-away time when he sat by

his father's side and sawed away on his improvised fiddle.

Esterhaz once more

There is little to say about Haydn's labours as Capellmeister of the

Esterhazy household at this time. Apparently he was only at Eisenstadt

for the summer and autumn. Down to 1802, however, he always had a mass

ready for Princess Esterhazy's name-day in September. These compositions

are Nos. 2, 1, 3, 16, 4 and 6 of the Novello edition. No. 2, Pohl tells

us, was composed in 1796, and called the "Paukenmesse," from the fact

of the drums being used in the Agnus. No. 3 was written in 1797. It

is known in England as the Imperial Mass, but in Germany as "Die

Nelsonmesse," on account of its having been performed during Nelson's

visit to Eisenstadt in 1800. On that occasion Nelson asked Haydn for his

pen, and gave him his own gold watch in exchange.

The Austrian Hymn

It was shortly after his return to Vienna--in January 1797, to be

precise--that he composed his favourite air, "God preserve the Emperor,"

better known as the Austrian Hymn. The story of this celebrated

composition is worth telling with some minuteness. Its inception was

due to Count von Saurau, Imperial High Chancellor and Minister of the

Interior. Writing in 1820, the count said:

I often regretted that we had not, like the English, a national air

calculated to display to all the world the loyal devotion of our people

to the kind and upright ruler of our Fatherland, and to awaken

within the hearts of all good Austrians that noble national pride

so indispensable to the energetic fulfillment of all the beneficial

measures of the sovereign. This seemed to me more urgent at a period

when the French Revolution was raging most furiously, and when the

Jacobins cherished the idle hope of finding among the worthy Viennese

partisans and participators in their criminal designs. [The scandalous

Jacobin persecutions and executions in Austria and Hungary took place

in 1796]. I caused that meritorious poet Haschka to write the words,

and applied to our immortal countryman Haydn to set them to music, for I

considered him alone capable of writing anything approaching in merit

to the English "God save the King." Such was the origin of our national

hymn.

It would not have been difficult to match "God save the King," the

mediocrity of which, especially as regards the words, has been the butt

of countless satirists. Beethoven wrote in his diary that he "must show

the English what a blessing they have" in that "national disgrace." If

Haydn regarded it as a "blessing," he certainly did not take it as a

model. He produced an air which, looking at it from a purely artistic

point of view, is the best thing of the national anthem kind that has

ever been written. The Emperor was enchanted with it when sung on his

birthday, February 12, 1797, at the National Theatre in Vienna, and

through Count Saurau sent the composer a gold box adorned with a

facsimile of the royal features. "Such a surprise and such a mark of

favour, especially as regards the portrait of my beloved monarch," wrote

Haydn, "I never before received in acknowledgment of my poor talents."

Haydn's Love for It

We have several indications of Haydn's predilection for this fine air,

which has long been popular as a hymn tune in all the churches. He

wrote a set of variations for it as the Andante of his "Kaiser Quartet."

Griesinger tells us, too, that as often as the warm weather and his

strength permitted, during the last few years of his life, he used to be

led into his back room that he might play it on the piano. It is further

related by Dies that, during the bombardment of Vienna in May 1809,

Haydn seated himself at his instrument every forenoon to give forth the

sound of the favourite song. Indeed, on May 26, only five days before

his death, he played it over three times in succession, and "with a

degree of expression that astonished himself." As one writer puts it,

the air "seemed to have acquired a certain sacredness in his eyes in an

age when kings were beheaded and their crowns tossed to the rabble."

Haydn's first sketch of the melody was found among his papers after his

death. We reproduce it here, with an improvement shown in small notes.

There are, it will be observed, some slight differences between the

draft and the published version of the air:

[figure: a musical score excerpt from the draft]

[figure: a musical score excerpt from the published version]

The collecting of what Tennyson called "the chips of the workshop"

is not as a rule an edifying business, but the evolution of a great

national air must always be interesting.

Plagiarism or Coincidence?

It might perhaps be added that Dr Kuhac, the highest authority on

Croatian folk-song, asserted in an article contributed to the Croatian

Review (1893) that the Austrian National Hymn was based on a Croatian

popular air. In reviewing Kuhac's collection of Croatian melodies, a

work in four volumes, containing 1600 examples, Dr Reimann signifies his

agreement with Kuhac, and adds that Haydn employed Croatian themes not

only in "God preserve the Emperor," but in many passages of his

other works. These statements must not be taken too seriously. Handel

purloined wholesale from brother composers and said nothing about it.

The artistic morality of Haydn's age was different, and, knowing his

character as we do, we may be perfectly sure that if he had of set

purpose introduced into any of his compositions music which was not his

own he would, in some way or other, have acknowledged the debt. This

hunting for plagiarisms which are not plagiarisms at all but mere

coincidences--coincidences which are and must be inevitable--is fast

becoming a nuisance, and it is the duty of every serious writer to

discredit the practice. The composer of "The Creation" had no need to

borrow his melodies from any source.

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