For the rest, the story of Haydn's life is little else than a catalogue
of his works. From 1766, the year in which he became, by the death of
Werner, the head of the Esterhazy Capelle, to 1790, the year of his first
visit to London, nearly a quarter of a century, was the most fruitful
period of his musical career. His greatest works, however, were yet to be
written. Though he was already famous, he was not permitted to hold his
position unassailed, and many and violent were the attacks upon him for
his innovations and his disdain for pedagogic rules, by the critics of the
older and more conservative school. Honors, nevertheless, began to pour in
on him. The Philharmonic Society of Modena elected him a member in 1780.
In 1784, Prince Henry of Prussia sent him a gold medal and his portrait in
return for six quartets dedicated to him. In 1787, King Frederick William
II. gave him a diamond ring as a recognition of his merit as a composer.
In the meanwhile, in 1785, he received a commission to compose the "Seven
Last Words of Christ" for the Cathedral of Cadiz, a fact which evidences
how far his reputation had travelled from the solitude of Esterhaz. In the
period named, he had written eight masses including the famous "Mariazell"
mass in C, and the great "Cecilia" mass, the largest and most difficult of
all his works in this kind, and now only performed in a condensed form.
Within the same period he wrote sixty-three symphonies, most of which are
in his earlier style, though a steady progress is shown toward the master
symphonies he wrote for the London concerts.
During his residence at Esterhaz he wrote over forty quartets, and
these were, up to the time of his departure for London, his greatest
achievements. It was in these that he became the originator of modern
chamber music and led the way to both Mozart and Beethoven. His clavier
music still was under the influence of Emanuel Bach, though the
twenty-eight sonatas that belong to this period, in freedom, melody
and clearness are far in advance of anything that had been previously
achieved. Seventeen clavier trios are also the product of this period and
are still full of charm. He did not begin to write songs until he was
nearly fifty years old, and the twenty-four he composed at Esterhaz were
by no means of marked value. His part-songs were of a better order, but
his canons were best of all, and may be still heard with pleasure.
It was during his stay at Esterhaz that his friendship for Mozart
developed; and never was one great genius more cordially or sincerely
admired by another than was Mozart by Haydn; and so frank was his
recognition of the younger composer's worth, that he was fond of declaring
that he never heard one of Mozart's compositions without learning
something from it. He pronounced Mozart "the greatest composer in the
world," and affirmed that if he had written nothing but his violin
quartets and the "Requiem" he would have done enough to insure his
immortality. The personal friendship between the two masters was a tender
one and like that of father and son. On the eve of Haydn's departure for
London Mozart was deeply moved and lamented their separation. With tears
in his eyes he said to Haydn, "We shall never see each other again on
earth," a prophecy that was only too literally fulfilled. When Haydn, then
in London, heard of Mozart's death he grieved over it bitterly and with
tears, and he wrote to a friend that his joy of returning home would be
gloomy because he should not be greeted by the great Mozart.
It was in 1787 that Haydn received an urgent invitation from Cramer, the
violinist, to visit London, but without any favorable results. Salomon
took more practical measures, and in 1789 sent Bland, the music publisher,
to try what personal persuasion could effect. It achieved nothing at this
time, and Bland was obliged to return and to inform Salomon of the failure
of the scheme. Haydn would not leave his "well-beloved Prince," but
"wished to live and die with him." In a favorable hour for musical art,
Prince Nicolaus died after a brief illness, in 1790. Haydn was in despair
and mourned him devotedly. The Prince testified to his appreciation of the
faithful services of his devoted Capellmeister by leaving him an annual
pension of one thousand florins, on the condition that he consented to
retain the title of Capellmeister to the Esterhazys. The Prince must have
known that the Capelle would be dismissed by Prince Anton, his successor,
whose taste for music was very slight. He discharged all the musicians
except the wind band, which was retained to perform at banquets and
other ceremonials. Prince Anton nevertheless was not unkind to those he
dismissed, for he gave them gratuities and added four hundred florins to
the pension of Haydn.
From this moment, Haydn was for the first time his own master, free to
go whither he would. His fame, which was world-wide, assured him a warm
welcome, no heed in what capital he might take up his residence, and his
pensions and his savings secured him from all fear for the comfort of his
declining years. He was now fifty-eight years of age. He took up his abode
in Vienna and soon received an invitation to become Capellmeister to Count
Grassalcovics. This he declined; but one day shortly after, he received
a visit from a stranger who announced himself as Salomon of London, and
was determined to take Haydn there will he nil he. Haydn resisted for
a time, but at last all was arranged favorably to Salomon, who, by the
way, was a famous violinist and conductor who was the projector of some
prominent London subscription concerts. The terms which were agreed upon
were as follows: Haydn was to have for one season: £300 for an opera for
Gallini, the owner and manager of the King's Theatre in Drury Lane; £300
for six symphonies and £200 additional for the copyright of them; £200
for twenty new compositions to be produced by Haydn at a like number of
concerts, and £200 guaranteed as the proceeds of a benefit concert for
him, £1,200 in all, or 12,000 florins. His travelling expenses were paid
by himself with the assistance of a loan of 450 florins from the Prince.
He left Vienna with Salomon on the 15th of December, 1790, and arrived
on English soil on the 1st of January, 1791. His reception in London was
enthusiastic. Noblemen and ambassadors called on him; he was overwhelmed
with invitations from the highest society and distinguished artists
hastened to pay him homage. The musical societies fought for his presence
at their performances, his symphonies and quartets were played, his
cantata "Ariadne à Naxos" was sung by the celebrated Pachierotto and the
newspapers vied with each other in honoring him.
The first of his six symphonies composed for Salomon was played March
11, 1791, at the Hanover Square Rooms, the composer conducting it at the
pianoforte. The orchestra, led by Salomon, consisted of nearly forty
performers. The work was received with a storm of applause and the Adagio
was encored,--a rare event in that day. The other symphonies were no less
successful, and were the finest works in their kind that Haydn had written
up to that time. His benefit, which took place in May, was guaranteed to
net him £200 but it produced for him £350. He was fêted constantly and
enthusiasm attended him wherever he went. Oxford conferred on him the
honorary degree of Doctor of Music during the Oxford Commemoration, an
important feature of which was three concerts. At the second of these,
Haydn's "Oxford" symphony was performed, Haydn giving the tempi at the
organ. At the third concert he appeared in his Doctor's gown amid the
wildest plaudits. He was the guest of the Prince of Wales for three days,
and at a concert given all the music was of Haydn's composition, and the
Prince of Wales played the 'cello. In the meantime Salomon made a new
contract with him which prevented him from complying with a recall from
Prince Esterhazy, to give his services in a grand fête for the Emperor. He
gave many lessons at his own price. Among his pupils was the widow of the
Queen's music master, Mrs. Schroeder. Haydn's susceptibilities were again
touched, and though his pupil was over sixty, he said afterward: "Had I
been free I certainly should have married her." To her he dedicated three
clavier trios. He quitted London in June, 1792, and when he reached Bonn,
Beethoven called on him for his opinion of a cantata. At Frankfort Haydn
met Prince Anton at the coronation of the Emperor Francis II. At last he
reached Vienna, where he was welcomed with wild enthusiasm and there was
the greatest eagerness to hear his great London symphonies. Did Haydn at
this triumphant moment recall the homeless young man who wandered through
the streets of the city on a November evening forty-three years ago,
penniless and despairing, and hopeless regarding his future prospects?
[Illustration: JOSEPH HAYDN.
From a miniature painted on ivory about 1785 to 1790, shortly before his
visit to London.
Among the friends who tried to dissuade him from making this journey was
Mozart, who said to him: "Papa, you have not been brought up for the great
world; you know too few languages." Haydn replied: "But my language is
understood by the whole world."]
At the end of this year Beethoven went to Haydn for instruction, and
the lessons continued until Haydn's second departure for London. The
connection between these two geniuses was not a happy one. There can
be no doubt that Haydn neglected his pupil. In fact, in the midst of
his social triumphs and at the height of his fame, giving lessons in
counterpoint could not have had much attraction for him; moreover the
twenty cents an hour that Beethoven paid for instruction was scarcely as
tempting to the Haydn of that day as it would have been to the Haydn of
fifty years before. The breach between the old and the young composer
widened. The latter went to Schenk, a reputable musician, for additional
lessons, and then refused to call himself Haydn's pupil. Haydn at one time
intended to take Beethoven to England with him, but the latter, whenever
occasion offered, made unflattering and contemptuous remarks about the old
man, and these irritating him and wounding his self-esteem caused him to
abandon his intention. Later, Beethoven's resentment softened, and when on
his deathbed he was shown a view of Haydn's humble birth-place, he said:
"To think that so great a man should have been born in a common peasant's
hovel."
While in Vienna Haydn paid a visit to his native village Rohrau, the
occasion being the inauguration of a monument erected in his honor by
Count Harrach, in whose household Haydn's mother had been a cook. The
emotions of the composer may be imagined. The little boy who fifty-four
years earlier quitted home to study with the pedagogue Frankh, returned
in the glory of a fame that was world-wide, and one of the greatest of
composers, honored of monarchs, and courted of all. Good fortune had
followed him from the first; and though he suffered much in those sad,
early days, every change in his position was for the better. Far different
was the fate of a still greater master, the luckless Mozart.
In 1794, Haydn departed on his second journey to London under contract to
Salomon to compose six new symphonies. Prince Anton parted unwillingly
with him and died three days after. The success of the previous visit was
repeated, and his reception was even still more fervent and enthusiastic.
Toward the end of this stay he was much distinguished by the Court. At
a concert at York House, the King and Queen, the Princesses, the Prince
of Wales, and the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester were present, and the
Prince of Wales presented Haydn to the King. Both the King and Queen urged
him to remain in England and pass the summer at Windsor; but Haydn replied
that he could not abandon Prince Esterhazy, and beside, the Prince
had already written that he wished to reorganize his chapel with Haydn
as conductor. He returned to his native land, his powers still further
developed, his fame increased and his fortune enlarged. By concerts,
lessons and symphonies he made twelve thousand florins ($6000) enough,
added to what he already possessed, to give him no further anxiety for the
future.
Again was his welcome home marked by the most demonstrative cordiality.
From this time out there is but little to relate except to repeat the
story of his industry and his musical fecundity, until the culmination
of his artistic career was reached in the works of his old age, "The
Creation" and "The Seasons." The success of both was enormous, and he
composed very little after the latter work. His health began to fail, and
he laid it at the door of "The Seasons." He said, "I should never have
undertaken it. It gave me the finishing stroke." He lived in comparative
seclusion, and only once more appeared in public, the occasion being a
performance of "The Creation." He was then seventy-six years of age.
As he entered the concert room he was saluted by a fanfare of trumpets
and the cheers of the audience. His excitement was so great that it was
thought advisable to take him home at the end of the first part. As he
was borne out friends and pupils surrounded him to take leave. Beethoven
was present, and bent down to kiss the old man's hands and forehead. All
animosities were soothed in that last hour of triumph; the crowning moment
and the close of a great master's career. When Haydn reached the door he
urged his bearers to pause and turn him face toward the orchestra. Then
he raised his hands as if in benediction, and in a long, lingering glance
bade farewell to the art to which he had been devoted since the time when,
as a boy, he hoarded his florins to purchase the precious volume of Fux,
which he placed under his pillow when he slept, down to this pathetic
culminating moment.
Haydn's life passed peacefully until in 1809 Vienna was bombarded by the
French, and a shell fell near his dwelling. His servants were alarmed,
but he cried in a loud voice, "Fear not, children. No harm can happen to
you while Haydn is here." The city was occupied by the enemy, and the
last visitor Haydn ever received was a French officer, who sang to him,
"In native worth." Haydn was deeply affected and embraced his guest
warmly at parting. A few days afterward, he called his servants about him
for the last time, and bidding them carry him to the piano he played the
Emperor's Hymn, three times. Five days later, May 31, 1809, that busy
life ended peacefully. He was buried in the Hundsthurm Churchyard, close
to the suburb in which he had lived; but eleven years later the remains
were exhumed by order of Prince Esterhazy and reinterred in the parish
church at Eisenstadt. When the coffin was opened for identification before
removal, the skull was missing. A skull was sent to the Prince from an
unknown source and was buried with the other remains; but there are good
grounds for the belief that the real skull is in the possession of the
family of an eminent physician of Vienna.
[Illustration: HAYDN'S GRAVE IN HUNDSTHURM CHURCHYARD.
At Gumpendorf, a suburb of Vienna, from whence the remains were taken to
the parish church at Eisenstadt.]
Fifteen days after his death Mozart's Requiem was performed in honor of
his memory at the Schotterkirche. Numerous French officers were among the
mourners, and the guard of honor about the bier was chiefly composed of
French soldiers No sooner did Haydn's death become known, than funeral
services were held in all the principal cities of Europe.
The list of Haydn's compositions is enormous. It includes 125 symphonies;
30 trios for strings, and strings and wind; 77 quartets for strings; 20
concertos for clavier; 31 concertos for various other instruments; 38
trios for piano and strings; 53 sonatas and divertissements for clavier; 4
sonatas for clavier and violin; 14 masses; 1 Stabat Mater; 8 oratorios and
cantatas; 19 operas; 42 canons for voice in two and more parts; 175 pieces
for the baritone; and a vast collection of other works, among which are a
collection of over 300 original Scotch songs in three parts with violin
and bass accompaniments and symphonies.
In estimating Haydn's life-work as a composer, the principal stress must
be laid on him as a reformer in his art. Contrapuntally, music had reached
its highest development, but in many other important directions it was
at a low ebb. Concerted music had not yet achieved any prominence as a
distinct branch of the art. Vocal music was in the ascendant and the
church and the opera-house offered the principal if not the only means
for composers to achieve distinction. In Vienna, the Emperor, Joseph
II., was a liberal patron of music, and the nobles, after the fashion
of nobles generally, followed the example of the court, and entered
into rivalry with each other in founding and supporting costly musical
establishments of their own. The Viennese, however, had no very marked
sympathy with art at its highest. One hundred and twenty-five years ago,
Leopold Mozart wrote: "The Viennese public love nothing that is serious or
reasonable; they have not the sense to understand it, and their theatres
prove sufficiently that nothing but rubbish such as dances, burlesque,
harlequinades, ghost magic and devil's tricks will satisfy them. A fine
gentleman, even with an order on his breast, may be seen laughing till
the tears run down his cheeks, applauding as heartily as he can, some bit
of foolish buffoonery; while in a highly pathetic scene he will chatter
so noisily with a lady that his wiser and better-mannered neighbors can
scarcely hear a word of the piece." From which it will be seen that
fashion changes but little as time passes.
Instrumental music was, for the most part, confined to dance tunes, and
minuets, allemands, waltzes and ländler were the rage. Presently these
rose to importance and musicians began to take greater care in composing
them, until at length came the suite, which was formed of a series of
dances all written in the same key but varying in accent and character.
Then followed a second part to the minuet, in the fifth of the key, and a
return to the first part, which proved to be the stepping-stone to form;
and the minuet survived the suite, of which it was originally a part, and
continued an indispensable element of the symphony down to the time that
Beethoven enlarged it into the scherzo.
In considering the influence that Haydn exercised on instrumental music
it may perhaps be interesting to take a passing glance at the condition
of orchestration when he began to compose. The string band, then, as now,
was the foundation of the whole, and the wind instruments were used to add
solidity to the score. The orchestra generally consisted of the string
quintet, two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two trumpets, two horns and
tympani. The first oboe did little else than duplicate the first violins,
while the second oboe only appeared now and then with a holding note, or
doubled the first oboe. The first bassoon either played in unison with the
bass or sustained the fundamental harmony, while the second bassoon, from
time to time, doubled the first. The violas rarely had an independent part
and as a rule duplicated the bass. It is true that Haydn had before him
the example of Stamitz, who gave an independent part to the viola in some
of his symphonies, but the innovation does not seem to have influenced
Haydn. Trumpets, horns and drums had but little to do except to produce
noise when contrast in effect was deemed necessary. Unquestionably,
Emanuel Bach departed somewhat from this conventional and circumscribed
treatment of the orchestra and gave to his wind instruments independent
parts. In his symphony in E-flat is to be found, amid the customary unison
and octave passages for the strings, some charming and even piquant
free writing for the wind, together with a marked feeling for contrasts
between the wind and the strings. The horns, especially, are used with a
genuine appreciation of their peculiar quality of tone and the effect of
their timbre. Occasionally the strings remain silent and the wood wind
are heard alone. More than this, for there is an attempt to employ
all the instruments in a manner calculated to let their characteristic
individualities produce their due effect in regard to tone-color; but,
strangely enough, Haydn does not appear to have been in any way swayed
by the innovations of his great predecessor, whose clavier works he had
studied so assiduously. Still, a near and an inevitable change in the
methods of writing for the orchestra was in the air, and the ground was
not wholly unprepared for Haydn.
[Music: Fac-simile of original sketch made by Haydn for the Austrian
Hymn, in which the melody and harmony differ somewhat from the published
version.]
The orchestration of John Sebastian Bach was thin despite its elaboration.
The strings formed the foundation, according to the prevailing rule, and
were written in so many real parts, and when wind instruments appeared,
they were also used with an independent polyphony. His contrasts were, for
the most part, produced by giving a melody to a simple solo instrument,
accompanied only by a bass, while a figured bass indicated the chords
to be filled in by the organ or the clavier. It can hardly be said that
the greatest of the Bachs advanced the art and science of orchestration.
Handel's scoring was in quite another vein, and may be viewed as
revolutionary for its era. In his overtures, especially, his strings are
used with the evident object of producing solidity in effect. The oboes
often strengthen the violins in unison and the bassoons perform the same
service for the basses, but he also used these instruments independently
and to embroider the broad and simple themes of the strings. In addition,
he made use of the latter and of the wind separately, each body full
in itself and responding each to the other. Now and then he used three
trumpets, and in his "Rinaldo" he resorts to four, giving the bass to the
drums. In "Saul" he uses three trombones. Clarinets were unknown to him,
and the bass tuba was unborn in his day; but otherwise he was acquainted
with all the instruments of the modern orchestra and made use of them. One
cannot recall an instance in which he used them all in combination, and
hence, the four trumpets of "Rinaldo" and the three trombones of "Saul"
are not heard together in any of his scores. Notwithstanding the fame of
Handel, his daring innovations in orchestration do not seem to have been
studied by Haydn, or if they were, they exercised no early influence over
him.
Gluck's scores must be considered epoch-making in the art of
orchestration. His "Orpheus" was produced in 1762 when Haydn was thirty
years of age; his "Iphigénie en Aulide" was produced in 1774, and the
other "Iphigénie" was given in 1779. In these works instrumentation was
advanced to an extent that broke almost wholly with the past. When Gluck
died Haydn was in his fifty-fifth year, and yet the older composer, the
report of whose world-wide fame must have reached Haydn's ears, even in
the seclusion of Eisenstadt, does not appear to have suggested anything to
Haydn. The twelve great Salomon symphonies, Haydn's, till then, highest
achievements in orchestral writing, were not produced until some seven
years after Gluck's death, and in them the influence is unmistakably that
of Mozart, who had undoubtedly studied Gluck thoroughly.
The word "symphony" had various meanings before it became fixed as a name
for the highest form of instrumental music. It was, however, generally
understood to signify an overture, and its closest connection was with
the opera. Originally it was merely a notification to the audience that
the opera was about to begin; an appeal for silence and to concentrate
attention on the coming entrance of the singers. The French "symphony," as
exemplified by Lully, opened with a slow movement followed by an allegro,
frequently in fugue form, and passed again into an adagio which ended the
overture. The Italian symphony consisted of three movements, the first
of which was a moderate allegro, the second an adagio, and the last a
livelier and lighter allegro; and the Italian overture, as will be seen,
became the foundation of the modern symphony as far as the positions of
the movements are concerned. Before Haydn, Stamitz, Abel, J. C. Bach and
Wagenseil, as well as Emanuel Bach, had written symphonies, and a symphony
by Stamitz, in D, is peculiarly interesting, inasmuch as its form is
completely in accordance with that which was established permanently by
Haydn. The opening movement is an Allegro, with the familiar double bar
with the repeats and the binary form. The second movement is an Andante
in the dominant; the third is a Minuet that has even the Trio, and the
finale is a Presto. The clavier sonatas of Ph. Emanuel Bach congealed this
form and had a permanent influence on it, in the impression they made upon
Haydn, who, by his mastery of his art, his amazing fecundity in invention
and his unflagging productive powers, was enabled to increase the scope
and aim of this form so greatly as to entitle him to be recognized as the
creator of the symphony. Haydn's first symphony was written in 1759, for
Count Morzin. We are unaware of any printed copy of it in this country.
Pohl describes it as a slight work in three movements for two violins,
viola, bass, two oboes and two horns. It appears to be modelled on the
symphonies of Stamitz, Abel and John Christian Bach. The symphonies that
followed differed but little in character from this one and afford little
if any insight into Haydn's influence on the symphonic form. He appears
to have followed in the footsteps of his predecessors, curiously enough,
ignoring the symphonies of Emanuel Bach. The orchestration is meagre and
conventional, the violins are almost constantly playing, and the wind
is only used to duplicate them. It is not until we come to the first
symphony composed by him at Eisenstadt that we see him as an innovator.
This work is in C-major, and is generally known as "Le Matin." It is in
four movements and begins with a few bars of adagio. The opening allegro
is remarkable for its variety of subjects and their treatment, and for
the careful manner in which it worked out. Between this movement and the
adagio is a long dramatic recitative for the violin, very impressive, but
having no discoverable connection with what precedes or what follows it.
In breadth, dignity, and expressiveness it surpasses anything that the
composer had hitherto produced. From this time forth the symphony steadily
grew under Haydn's hands; the form was enlarged, the orchestration
was varied, the timbres of the different instruments were studied and
instrumental effects gradually assumed an importance that increased with
each succeeding symphony. But his greatest symphonies were not written
until the period of the Salomon concerts. In the meanwhile Mozart had
appeared upon the scene. Haydn's first symphony was produced when Mozart
was three years old, and the latter died in the very year in which Haydn's
connection with the Salomon concerts began. That Haydn influenced Mozart's
early works is beyond question; that Mozart in turn, influenced Haydn
later, is equally indisputable.
[Illustration: JOSEPH HAYDN.
From an engraving by J. E. Mansfield, published by Artaria, in Vienna,
1781. Haydn in his forty-ninth year.]
In "Le Matin," before alluded to, the second violins play with the first,
and the viola with the basses almost through the whole of the first
movement. The slow movement has no wind instruments whatever. In the
minuet, though, there is a long passage for wind instruments only, and
in the trio is an extensive and florid solo for bassoon. Haydn treated
the strings in this same confined manner, and the wind after this solo
fashion for some twenty years. Then came an effort to make the strings
more independent and to pay attention to the peculiar qualities of the
viola and violoncello. In the symphony in E-minor (Letter I) the wind is
given long holding notes while strings sustain the subject. This was the
first step toward greater freedom of orchestration in Haydn's symphonies;
but it was not until his "Oxford" symphony that he broke wholly with the
past. It was written in 1788, the same year in which Mozart produced his
three greatest symphonies. This work is in his mature style, and the
orchestration is delightfully clear, flexible and fresh. If he had written
no more symphonies after this, however, he would not have attained to the
rank he has won as a symphony composer. His fame in this walk of his art
was assured by the twelve symphonies he wrote for Salomon after 1790. In
these he reached his highest point. His mastery of form was perfected,
his technical skill was unlimited, and he ventured into bold harmonic
progressions that were little short of daring, for his time. His orchestra
had been enlarged to two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two horns, two
trumpets and drums, and in his three last symphonies, the two in D-minor
and the one in E-flat, two clarinets appear. It is in these twelve
symphonies that the influence of Mozart is clearly manifested. The bass
has attained to independence; the violas no longer duplicate it except
for certain effects; the second violins have a free motion of their own;
the wind instruments express musical ideas proper to them and appropriate
to their special qualities of utterance. The form and character of the
symphony were established permanently.
Simplicity, clearness of style, grace and playfulness are the leading
features of Haydn's symphonies. There are few of the more notable of them
in which his command over the science of his art is not delightfully
manifested. Haydn is invariably lucid, always finished to the highest
point, always logical and always free from display for the mere sake
of display. It is a prevailing fault to dwell too persistently on the
cheerful simplicity of Haydn's music and to forget how serious and
profound he could be when occasion demanded. These latter qualities are
nobly manifested in his more important symphonies in those portions
of them devoted to the "working out." Such symphonies as appeared
before Haydn fixed the form and showed the capacity of that species of
composition have wholly disappeared. It would perhaps be over dogmatic
to assert that had it not been for Haydn the symphonies of Mozart and of
Beethoven would not have been what they are; but it is certain that Haydn
gave the impulse to both in as far as their symphony writing is concerned.
Of the quartet Haydn may be justly called the inventor, and it is in this
phase of his art that he may be most profitably studied. The quartet
was, as Otto Jahn truly says, "Haydn's natural mode of expressing his
feelings," and it is in the quartet that Haydn's growth and progress in
his art are most strikingly illustrated. Their influence on music has been
greater than that exerted by his symphonies. Here he is seen in his full
and his best strength, and it is here too that his extraordinary creative
powers are most brilliantly emphasized. When these works first appeared
they were sneered at by the pedagogues of the day, but by-and-by more
respect was shown to them even by their earlier antagonists, for it was
seen that the quartet was not only susceptible of depth of sentiment and
seriousness of treatment, but that musical learning also had in them a
field for its finest development. These quartets, from the opportunities
they afforded for performance in the family circle, exercised great
influence in raising the standard of taste, and in their educational
aspects they were thus of the highest service. They crystallized form
and in essence may be looked on as the parent of all the serious and
so-called classical music that has been composed since. The progeny may
only distantly resemble the parents, but the form establishes beyond all
cavil the family resemblance.
Haydn's first quartet is the merest shadow. The first half of the opening
movement consists of no more than twenty-four bars. The subject comprises
eight bars; then comes eight bars of an episode modulating into the
dominant, and then the second subject, also eight bars in length; but
brief and pale as it is, it is unmistakably the germ that was elaborated
by Beethoven into such prodigious masterpieces. It is in the quartet that
Haydn found the fullest outlet for his wealth of musical thought, and
it is in the quartet that his genius is illustrated in its most marked
individuality. Quartets were written before his day, and also by his
contemporaries, J. C. Bach, Stamitz, Jomelli, Boccherini, and others, but
Haydn's marvellous invention, his originality in the mastery of form, his
fine feeling for the characteristic speech of each instrument enabled him
to obtain a mastery that left him without a rival. His early quartets
are exceedingly thin, and are in such glaring contrast with what came
after the composer had wholly developed the capacity of the quartet as a
means of profound expression of musical thought, that he is said to have
wished to ignore all his works in this class that preceded the nineteenth
quartet; but they are necessary to the student who would follow the
growth of musical form. It is an immense stride from the first of these
compositions to the ever-beautiful "Kaiser quartet," with its exquisite
variations, or "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser." The advance from simple
harmonies to polyphonic treatment of the different parts, is a peculiarly
interesting subject for study. Haydn stamped a character on the quartet
that has never been departed from; and what is known as the "quartet
style" was established by him so thoroughly that in all the mutations in
musical taste, it still remains a distinction that admits of no change.
Haydn also left the impress of his genius on the sonata, though to Emanuel
Bach is due the honor of having broken with the past as represented by
Domenico Scarlatti and Kuhnau. The same copiousness of invention and
perfection of form that characterize his quartets and symphonies are to be
found in his sonatas, too much neglected at present, for in several of
his later compositions of this class he appears to have gone further than
Mozart and to have overlapped into the era of Beethoven. His trios for
clavier and strings are full of interest, but with two or three exceptions
they are not of special value except as models. The strings are often
held subordinate to the piano, and the outer voices are too persistently
doubled. Of his other purely instrumental works, including concertos and
divertimenti, nothing survives except the fine concerto for clavier in D
with "principal violin."
His songs, of which he wrote many, have passed for the most part into
deserved oblivion. Some of his canzonets are marked by grace and delicacy,
but the sign of age is unmistakably on them. His masses display that
eternal freshness and that cheerfulness of spirit that are peculiarly
Haydn's, and the more important of them must rank forever among the
masterpieces of their class, notably the "Mariazell" Mass in C-major, and
the "Cecilia" Mass, in the same key.
"The Seasons" and "The Creation" are remarkable not only in themselves,
but as productions of his old age. It is true that his fame does not rest
on them, and it is equally true that if he had written nothing else these
works would not have brought the composer's name down to our day with the
glory that now surrounds it. Some portions of "The Creation" however, are
noble music, and these will always be listened to with delight. Never
was the human voice treated in a more masterly manner than it has been
by Haydn in these "oratorios," and the study of their scores is still
valuable to all who would learn how to support the voice by flowing and
brilliant orchestration without giving undue prominence to the instruments.
The dramatic interest of "The Creation" is not strong. There is nothing
in the shape of declamation, and the singers are confined to mere
description. The result is a lack of passion and a consequent monotony of
sentiment. The tone-picture of Chaos, with which the work opens, stands
out as one of the noblest bits of instrumentation that Haydn ever wrote.
The air "With Verdure Clad" is exquisite, in melody and orchestration,
but its many repetitions mar it and make it tiresome. "On mighty pens" is
another lovely air, but here too the composer has not been fortunate in
respect to discreet brevity. The choruses reach a high point of beauty
in regard to themes, development and voice treatment, and "The Heavens
are telling" still remains one of the noblest oratorio choruses outside
of Bach and Handel. But the breadth and dignity of all the choruses are
impaired by the elaborateness of the orchestration. Haydn was essentially
an instrumental composer, and it was but natural that he should have
yielded to the temptation to produce effects of which he was practically
the inventor and at which the musical world still marvelled. It is, with
all its faults, an amazing work for a man not far from three-score and ten
years of age; and it may still be listened to with pleasure, when the last
part is omitted; for the wooings and cooings of Adam and Eve have become
incurably old-fashioned; and the grace, melodiousness and tenderness of
the music do not atone for its monotonous effect and its lack of dramatic
color.
"The Seasons," by its well sustained pastoral tone, its fresh and
cheerful melodies, the fidelity with which the composer has adhered to
the spirit of his poem, and the simple grace of style that marks the work
throughout, make it still delightful in the hearing when it is produced
with care and in harmony with the chaste sentiment that pervades it.
When it is remembered that the composer compassed this work at the age
of 69, and consequently near the end of a busy life whose active pursuit
might well have exhausted his capacity to invent, its wealth of melody is
astonishing. And yet, he said to Michael Kelly, "It is the tune which is
the charm of music, and it is that which is most difficult to produce." In
our day it would seem that tune is exhausted or that it is more difficult
to produce than it was. In this connection another saying of Haydn's may
be reproduced for the felicity with which it applies to the present time:
"Where so many young composers fail is, that they string together a number
of fragments and break off almost as soon as they have begun; so that at
the end the hearer carries away no clear impression." By omitting the word
"young," the words will not be any the less true now.
Of Haydn's lighter vocal works there is no need to speak, for they have
passed away forever. His operas have been wholly forgotten, and not
unkindly. It is, however, as an instrumental composer that Haydn is
entitled to the most earnest consideration. In this field of his industry
he has left an imperishable name. He was, to all intents and purposes, the
creator of orchestral music. His place in musical history is among the
greatest in his art. He broke with pedantry at the outset of his career,
enlarged the scope and dignified the aim of music, and made the world the
happier for his presence and in the rich legacy he left it. Music has
changed greatly since his day, and in its progress it has departed widely
and is still departing, even more widely, from the conditions in which he
left it; but in all its changes it has left his position unassailed. His
best achievements in his art are yet listened to with delight, despite
the richer orchestration and the larger design that characterize the
music of our time. He has outlived every mutation thus far, and it is
perhaps not overbold to prophesy that his fame will endure long after the
vague, restless and labored music that is peculiar to the present era, is
forgotten. The moral of his life is devotion to art for art's sake. He was
loyal to it through poverty, suffering and disappointment, never doubting
his mission on earth. His early career was through tears, but as Heine
says: "The artist is the child in the fable, every one of whose tears was
a pearl. Ah! the world, that cruel step-mother, beats the poor child the
harder, to make him shed more tears."
[Illustration: B. E. Woolf.]
[Illustration: FRESCO IN THE VIENNA OPERA HOUSE