CHAPTER II.1754-1781.AT PRINCE ESTERHAZY’S.
1754-1781.
AT PRINCE ESTERHAZY’S.
Haydn’s Studies with Porpora—His Italian Operas—Engagement with Count Von Morzin—His First String Quartet—An Unfortunate Marriage—Domestic Troubles without End—Appointment as Capellmeister at Esterhaz—His Orchestra and Chorus—Rapid Musical Growth—His Most Important Earlier Compositions—Development of the Quartet—Personal Characteristics and Anecdotes—The Surprise Symphony—Influence of his Life at Esterhaz upon his Music.
Haydn’s Studies with Porpora—His Italian Operas—Engagement with Count Von Morzin—His First String Quartet—An Unfortunate Marriage—Domestic Troubles without End—Appointment as Capellmeister at Esterhaz—His Orchestra and Chorus—Rapid Musical Growth—His Most Important Earlier Compositions—Development of the Quartet—Personal Characteristics and Anecdotes—The Surprise Symphony—Influence of his Life at Esterhaz upon his Music.
Haydn’s Studies with Porpora—His Italian Operas—Engagement with Count Von Morzin—His First String Quartet—An Unfortunate Marriage—Domestic Troubles without End—Appointment as Capellmeister at Esterhaz—His Orchestra and Chorus—Rapid Musical Growth—His Most Important Earlier Compositions—Development of the Quartet—Personal Characteristics and Anecdotes—The Surprise Symphony—Influence of his Life at Esterhaz upon his Music.
“Hishours were occupied with lesson-giving and studies. Music so far monopolized his time that at this period no other than musical books came into his hands. The only exceptions were the works of Metastasio, and these can hardly be called an exception, as Metastasio always wrote for music, and therefore a Capellmeister who had determined to try his powers in opera ought to have been acquainted with his writings,” says Dies. We know from Haydn himself that an Italian singer and opera composer was his last instructor in thorough-bass;and that he had composed much but was not firmly grounded, that is, was not correct and strong until he had the good fortune to study the fundamental principles of composition, with the famous Porpora.
The Neapolitan, Nicolo Porpora was in Vienna from 1753 to 1757. He belonged to that early school of Italian opera which dominated nearly all Europe. The charm of melody predominated at this time and with it, the art of singing. They had reached their highest point. Smoothly flowing melody, however, was considered the main essential, and above all things, clearness and very simple harmonic structure characterized this school. Haydn played the accompaniments when Porpora gave singing lessons to the ten-year-old Martines and to the mistress of an ambassador, and was paid with lessons in composition from the impetuous and supercilious old master. “Ass, vagabond, blockhead,” alternating with blows, greeted this not very accomplished “Tedesco” (German). For three months he filled the position of servant and blacked his master’s shoes. “But I improved in singing, in composition and in Italian very much,” says the modestmechanic’s son, who, plain and simple himself, loved his art above all else. In fact, compared with the German music before him, or even with Philip Emanuel Bach’s sonatas, Haydn’s style at once shows not only that he had abandoned the “Tudesk” (German), of which the Italians complained, but that he had obtained a more refined phrasing of melody and a greater clearness of harmony, whereas the art of Bach had not advanced beyond the intellectual and characteristic. He also gave up embellishments and manifested a strong desire for the pure lines, and above all recognized that symmetry of construction which was rare among the Germans themselves, and yet constitutes an essential feature of modern German instrumental music.
The first larger works of Haydn were also Italian operas. He prized them very much himself, and they were also very pleasing to others; and it was only a deep, inward feeling for the calling he had chosen and a happy chance, which gave him the opportunity of satisfying that feeling, that saved him from a course which certainly might have secured him speedy fame and fortune, but not that immortalhalo of glory which crowns the “Father of the Symphony.” He even declined an invitation from Gluck, at that time the most celebrated of the Italian opera-composers, to go to Italy! Apart from this, it may be said incidentally, we learn of no nearer relations between these two artists. Temperament, character and the objects of their ambition kept them widely apart.
Haydn now devoted himself still more earnestly to studies of a theoretical nature. From sixteen to eighteen hours daily work was his rule, two-thirds of the time being devoted to the necessities of life. Mattheson’s “Vollkommener Capellmeister” and the “Gradus ad Parnassum” of Fux, the Vienna Hofcapellmeister, were his text-books. “With unwearied determination Haydn sought to master the theory of Fux,” says Griesinger, the councilor, who met him frequently in 1800, and in 1810 published the “Biographical Notices” of him. He says: “Haydn studied out the problems, laid them aside some weeks, then looked them over again and reviewed them often enough to make sure he was master of them.” Haydn called this work (“Fux’s Theorie”),a classic, and kept a much worn copy of it all his life. Mattheson’s book was found among his relics, “completely gone.” This work certainly did not extend his knowledge of composition, but he prized the method, and educated many a scholar in it during his life, and among those scholars was—Beethoven.
“He officiated as organist at a church in the suburbs, wrote quartets and other pieces which commended him still more favorably to amateurs, so that he was universally recognized as a genius,” says Dies. One of these amateurs was the councilor, Von Furnberg, “from whom I received special marks of favor,” says Haydn himself. Von Furnberg, who was already indebted to Haydn for several trios, was accustomed to have chamber-music at his villa in Weinzerl, played by the pastor of the place, his own steward, a violoncellist, and Haydn, and one day encouraged the latter to write a string quartet. Thus an accident of his surroundings turned his inventive spirit toward that particular form of chamber-music, the string quartet, which was destined to be so wonderful in results. This occurred in 1750.
Much had been already written for the fourstringed instruments, but Haydn gave to the quartet the movements and organic form which he had found in the sonatas. By the force of his knowledge of harmony he gave a more spontaneously melodious capacity to the divisions of the quartet which had hitherto been merely vague and sketchy, so that their development captivated the player and listener. It was, as it were, a scene in which four individualities, acting together, play out a complete and concrete life-picture,—artistic performances, which appeal to the player, as well as to the artist and poet, in a higher degree than the simple, plain sonata. Hence the invention of the string quartet marked an epoch in the history of music.
The first quartet (B flat, 6/8), met with such an instant success and so actively inspired Haydn himself, that in a short time he produced eighteen works in this style. And yet a Prussian major who had been made a prisoner in the Seven Years’ War, who heard these early productions, says that although every one was in raptures over his compositions, Haydn was modest even to timidity, and could notbring himself to believe that they were of any account. Twenty years later, even, he looked up to Hasse, at that time indeed famous throughout the world, as a great composer, and declared he would treasure his praise of his “Stabat Mater” like gold, though it was undeserved, “not on account of the opinion itself, but for the sake of a man so estimable.” Who knows Hasse to-day, and who that knows anything of music is not familiar with Joseph Haydn and his quartets? The English music-hunter, Burney, mentions that in 1772 he heard them played at Gluck’s!
It contributed greatly to his activity in composition that he was now in better circumstances. Furnberg had secured for him the appointment of “director” in the establishment of a music-loving count. The first quartets breathe the full, joyous humor of his child-like spirit. Though at first many a one protested against the lowering of music to mere trifling and was of the opinion that there was no earnest effort in his compositions, the verdict this time declared itself in favor of the creator of this style, and many a deeply earnest tone in these works is a souvenir of happy hours, whicheven now a quartet-evening with Haydn affords.
The Count, who in 1759 had installed Haydn as his director—and one in that position must also be a composer—was the Bohemian nobleman, Franz von Morzin. He passed his winters in Vienna and his summers at his country house at Lukavec, where he kept his orchestra, and while with him Haydn wrote his first symphony. There were symphonies indeed long before Haydn. Originally, all music in several parts was thus designated—at first, vocal pieces with instrumental accompaniments, but after the seventeenth century, instrumental music only. The instrumental preludes to the Italian operas, in particular, were called symphonies. The symphony in regular form consisted of an Allegro, an Adagio and a second Allegro. Haydn made the three movements, which he had transferred from the sonata-form to the quartet, richer and more independent, and added to them the Minuet, so that four movements became the rule. Haydn’s progress, therefore, was exemplified in the symphony by the freedom and vivacity which he gave to the separate instruments, but above all, by theirskillful combination and the dynamic gradations of the ensemble. For these he had his models in the compositions of the Mannheim school, which Mozart so much admired afterward.
Haydn’s first symphony, in D major, is a prominent example of the clearness of his method in such larger orchestral work. We shall soon see that he developed it still farther. His position with the Count, satisfactory so far as compensation was concerned, might have been the source of prolific creation, for the Count and his young son were enthusiastic musical amateurs, but the contract stipulated that he should remain unmarried. Haydn was then twenty-seven years of age, and it was not until that time that the charms of the other sex attracted his attention, and it happened then only by an accident which reveals to us the innocence of his youth. In his later years he was fond of telling the story that once when he was accompanying the young Countess in her singing, she stooped over, so as to see better, and her neckerchief became disarranged. “It was the first time I had ever witnessed such a sight. I was embarrassed,my playing ceased, and my fingers lay idly on the keys,” he told Griesinger. “What has happened, Haydn,” said the Countess, “what are you doing?” With perfect respect, Haydn replied: “Who could retain his self-command in your gracious ladyship’s presence?” The sequel to such an unexpected revelation was not long in following.
In the autumn of 1760, Haydn was again with his scholars in Vienna. Among them were two daughters of Keller, a wig-maker, in the Ungargasse, who had frequently assisted him before this time. The younger daughter was so attractive to him, that in spite of the Count’s order, which only made her still more alluring to the fiery young fellow, he determined to marry her, but to his sorrow, she chose to enter a convent. “Haydn, you ought to marry my eldest daughter,” jokingly said the father one day, for he was particularly pleased with the smart and gifted young director;—and Haydn did so. Whatever may have been the reason—gratitude, ignorance, helplessness in practical matters, or the wish to have a wife right away—whatever may havebeen the motive, he married, and sorely he had to suffer for it.
His wife was older than he, and this of itself made the relations between them very uncertain. Besides this, Dies says that she was an imperious and unfeeling woman, who was incapable of any consideration, and had earned the reputation of being a spendthrift. The proofs of her quarrelsomeness and of her heartless treatment of her husband reveal to us a perfect Xantippe. As compared with the simple, frank and joyous-hearted Haydn, she was an extreme bigot and prude. Only a person of his disposition could have endured such a wretched, and above all, childless marriage. “We were affectionate together, but for all that, I soon discovered that my wife was extremely frivolous,” he very mildly said to Dies. He told Griesinger that he was obliged to carefully conceal his earnings from her on account of her passion for finery. She was also fond of inviting priests to dine, urging them to say many masses, and giving more money to them for charity than she could afford. Very many of Haydn’s masses, and smaller church-pieces, especially those scattered aboutin the Austrian convents, are due to the fact that she availed herself of her husband’s talent to appear generous. Under such circumstances he naturally did not accomplish his best work, but wrote in a careless style. Once, when Griesinger, for whom he had done some favor for which he would not accept anything, asked permission to make his wife a present, he resolutely replied: “She does not deserve anything. It is little matter to her whether her husband is an artist or a cobbler.” She was also particularly malicious, and purposely tried to offend her husband, using his notes, for instance, as curl-papers, and in pie dishes, occasioning the loss, undoubtedly, of many of his earlier scores. One day, when she complained that there was not money enough in the house to bury him, in case he died suddenly, Haydn called her attention to a row of canons which were framed and hung upon the wall of his chamber, in lieu of any other decoration, and told her that they would bring enough for his funeral expenses. Notwithstanding his patience and good-heartedness, he could not overcome an intuitive feeling of repugnance for his wife. In the year 1805, when the violinist Baillot was visitinghim, they happened to pass a picture in the hall. Haydn stopped, and grasping Baillot by the arm, said: “That is my wife. Many a time she has maddened me.”
Is it not natural, then, and excusable also, that at times he sought solace away from home? * * * An Italian singer, in particular, Luigia Polzelli, won his affections in later years, and bestowed upon him a loving sympathy. He writes to her from London in 1792, thirty-two years after his unfortunate marriage, in furious terms: “My wife,bestia infernale, has written so much stuff, that I had to tell her I would not come to the house any more, which has brought her again to her senses.” A year later he says, in a gentler and almost sorrowful tone: “My wife is ailing most of the time and is always in the same miserable temper, but I do not let it distress me any longer. There will sometime be an end of this torment.” The remark in Lessing’s “Jungere Gelehrten,” “I am obliged to admit that I have had no other aim than this: to practice those virtues which enable one to endure such a woman,” exactly apply to Haydn’s case. At last he could bear it nolonger. He procured board for her with the teacher Stoll, at Baden, who is spoken of in Mozart’s letters, and she died there in 1800. Haydn dearly earned that exquisite peace which characterized so many of his adagios, but it was the true rest of the soul, and it is only here and there that a softly sighing chord reminds us of Wotan’s words: “The victory was won through toil and trouble from morning until night.” The unrestrained outpourings of love Haydn could not express. When Adam and Eve in “The Creation,” or Hannchen and Lucas sing their fond strains, you never think of Constance and Pamina, and yet Haydn wrote both these works long after Mozart was dead. The fullness and dignity of true womanly nature, in which his own wife was wanting, he was elsewhere to learn and value, as we shall yet see. The tenderer and deeper notes of the heart are not wanting in his compositions; on the contrary, he was the first to introduce them in music in all their perfection.
We now resume the course of our narrative. Dies says: “Six months passed by before Count Morzin knew that his Capellmeisterwas married. Circumstances occurred which changed Haydn’s affairs. It became necessary for the Count to reduce his large expenses and to dismiss his musicians, and thus he lost his position.” Prince Esterhazy, however, a short time before, had become acquainted with some of his orchestral pieces and admired them. His growing fame, his admirable personal character, besides Morzin’s hearty commendations, secured for him the position of Capellmeister to the Prince in the same year (1761), and he held it nearly to the close of his life. This position settled Haydn’s future as a composer.
The Esterhazy residence is in the little town of Eisenstadt, in Hungary, where the Prince’s castle supplied accommodation for every style of musical and dramatic performances. Music in particular had been patronized by the family for many generations. Here, in undisturbed quiet, Haydn actively devoted himself to those remarkable compositions which deservedly proclaim him the founder of modern instrumental music. The Prince had a pretty complete orchestra, though it was small, and a modest chorus, with two soloists. It was alsoexpected that the servants and attendants, after the custom of that time, would assist as musicians. The entire force of musicians was placed under the direction of the new Capellmeister, who was raised to an official position. By virtue of his rank, he was obliged to appear daily in the antechamber and receive instructions with regard to the music. He was also expected to compose what music was necessary and drill the singers. His contract of May 1, 1761, commends the duty required of him to his skill and zeal, and hopes that he will keep the orchestra up to such a standard as will reflect honor upon him and entitle him to further marks of princely favor.
Rarely, indeed, has a hope been more fully realized. The orchestra was soon a superior one, and it was not long before the works written for it by Haydn became famous throughout the world. The very first of the Esterhazy symphonies in C major, known as “The Noon,” showed that he was determined to bring the Prince as well as the orchestra to a realization of the work before them. It makes demands upon the orchestra which this one could not supply till much later, as it waswritten in a very large and broad style. It also has in it a foreshadowing of Beethoven’s dramatic style, in a recitative for violin with orchestra, introduced in one movement. He himself was also more thoroughly grounded in his own artistic work. The ever-increasing interest which the Prince took in him (to Paul Anton, succeeded the next year, Nicholas, Anton following him in 1790, and a second Nicholas following Anton in 1795) was a fresh incentive to his creative talent, so that the confinement in his rural situation during the twenty years that he passed with the first two Princes did not weigh very heavily upon him. After 1766, he spent many of the winter months with his Prince in Vienna. “My Prince was always satisfied with my works. I not only had the encouragement of steady approbation, but as leader of the orchestra, I could experiment, observe what produced and what weakened effects, and was thus enabled to improve, change, make additions or omissions, and venture upon anything. I was separated from the world, there was no one to distract or torment me, and I was compelled to become original.” Such a statement as this, whichwas made to Griesinger, shows what an important influence his life at this period had upon his artistic development.
There are many other interesting details of this Esterhazy life. Griesinger says: “Fishing and hunting were Haydn’s favorite pleasures during his stay in Hungary.” Think for a moment what an influence such an unbroken, restful life in God’s free nature must have had upon him, especially when it is considered that this had continued for thirty years and had been his only recreation outside of his own profession. “The dew-dropping morn, O how it quickens all,” says Eve in “The Creation.” In the early morning, the best time for his favorite pleasure, when the sun rose, shining in its full splendor, “a giant proud and joyous,” or at evening the moon “stole upon” the home-returning hunter with “soft step and gentle shimmer,” how his heart must have expanded as the sublime solitude of Nature revealed itself to him and spoke its own language! It was a time when the sense of nature rose superior to all the artifices of custom, and her majesty and chaste purity made a deep impression upon every noble feeling.In this sacred solitude, which with his beloved art filled his life with its only happiness and contentment, he stripped off his powdered wig and stood up clothed in his own pure manhood. What the result was may be seen in his exuberant melodies, earnest as well as passionate, which picture the innocent joy of Nature.
Many other things he learned to picture at this time. It was only that free and appreciative contemplation of Nature, which continual intimate intercourse with her produces, which enabled him to keenly observe the characteristics of every one of her phenomena and to give them conscious expression in his old age, in “The Creation” and “The Seasons.” The “Noon” symphony was soon followed by the “Morning.” That he intended to express in this music the “awakening of impressions upon arriving in the country,” is shown by a concerto which appeared soon afterward, “The Evening,” and which closes with a storm. According to Dies, his Prince had commissioned him to make the divisions of the day subjects for composition. We know by their reception that these works revealed an entirely newworld of music. Beethoven, with his incomparably deeper feeling for Nature, received his first impulses of that feeling from this music. The original can only be found in Haydn’s quiet life at Eisenstadt with Prince Esterhazy. We shall find further confirmation of the influence of this life in the following details:
The bearing of Prince Nicholas, then in his fortieth year, corresponded with his surroundings. Rich and distinguished as he was, he had noble passions. His appearance at Court was brilliant, while the richness of his jewels was proverbial. But his love of art and science was far greater than his fondness for show and court display, and in true Hungarian fashion, music was the dearest of all to him. He was a genuine Austrian cavalier of the best old times. Goodness of heart, magnanimity and kindly feeling were his prominent traits of character, and he manifested these qualities especially toward his orchestra. “During the entire period of his rule, his records, nearly all of which begin with the declaration, ‘God be with us,’ are a continuous series of releases from moneyed as well as other obligations, andrarely was a request refused,” says Pohl, in his reliable biography of Haydn. Still he could be severe without retaining animosity. His own instrument was the baryton, at that time very much admired, which has long since been superseded by the noble violoncello. Apropos of this instrument, the following characteristic event occurred:
The Prince played only in one key. Haydn practiced for six months, day and night, upon the instrument, often disturbed by the abuse of his wife, and upon one occasion incurred the censure of the Prince for neglecting his compositions. Thereat, impelled by a fit of vanity, he played upon the instrument at one of the evening entertainments in several keys. The Prince was not at all disturbed, and only said: “Haydn, you ought to have known better.” At first he was pained by the indifference of his honored master, but he immediately felt it was a gentle reproof, because he had wasted so much time and neglected his proper work to become a good baryton player, and turned to his compositions again with renewed earnestness. For the baryton alone,he has written upwards of one hundred and seventy-five pieces.
Haydn’s real feelings towards the Prince are shown by his words in his autobiography of 1776:—“Would that I could live and die with him.” Upon the accession of the new administration, his salary was increased one-half, and afterward six hundred florins were added, besides which he received frequent gifts from the Prince. This helped to appease his longing to go abroad, particularly to Italy—a longing which many a time must have arisen in his solitude. He recalled, even in his old age, with grateful feelings the good and generous Prince Nicholas, who had twice rebuilt his little house after it had been reduced to ashes by fires in the city. Though he wrote much, very much, simply for the Prince’s personal gratification, and consequently much that had little value, yet the Prince’s knowledge of music was sufficient to realize Haydn’s constant development and to actively foster it. Haydn was not under personal restraint, at least not more than was customary in a court at that time of “literal, primitive despotisms.” Though he was not the less acourtling, he remained an artist, and clove to his own rank. “I am surrounded by emperors, kings and many exalted persons, and I have had much flattery from them, but I will not live upon familiar terms with them; I prefer the people of my own station,” he said to Griesinger. In his later years, indeed, he personally asserted his dignity before his Prince and master. On his return from London, he bitterly complained because he was addressed by the customary “Er,” as an inferior, and after that he was always called “Herr von Haydn,” and “Respected Sir,” or “Dear Capellmeister von Haydn.” Upon one occasion the young Prince Nicholas expressed his disapproval of a rehearsal, and Haydn replied: “Your Highness, it ismyduty to attend to these matters.” A glance of displeasure was the only response of His Highness.
With the orchestra itself, which numbered many excellent players, Haydn had trouble many a time. The easy lenity of the Prince made it careless, and what the habits of musicians were at that time Mozart’s biography shows. “The appeals of Haydn are touching and heart-reaching when he intercedes forthose who have erred only through carelessness,” says Pohl. He also helped to appease the Prince with specially arranged compositions. To these probably belongs the symphony in five movements, called “Le Midi,” with a recitative for the first violinist, Tomasini, who was a special favorite of the Prince—a proof that the images of his fancy were already influencing him, and that, like Gluck, he was determined not to be “a mason,” but an “architect.” That he put his whole soul into these compositions is shown by the inscriptions at the beginning and end—“In nomine Domini,” “Laus Deo,” etc.
His most important compositions during his earlier years at Esterhaz were Italian operas. The Prince had engaged foreign actors, and the festival occasions at the palace, which as we know were often attended by royal personages, were made brilliant by these theatrical performances. During his thirty years stay at Esterhaz more than a dozen of these works were brought out, some of which Haydn himself esteemed. They certainly show a copious richness of detail, of harmonic beauty and of instrumental effects. “When Cherubinilooked through some of my manuscripts, he always hit upon places which were deserving of attention,” said Haydn to Griesinger, and Cherubini, at that time an opera composerpar excellence, might well be concerned about the superiority of Haydn’s operas. But the qualities which were conspicuous in Haydn’s instrumental music, the sure movement of the whole work and the freedom of the intellectual development, were wanting in his operas. This was Gluck’s contribution to the opera. Haydn had no part in it. He recognized himself that his operas in originality of form could scarcely equal those of Gluck in the more modern period. And yet we shall find that one of his operas was performed in London.
A criticism in theVienna Zeitungduring the year 1766 gives us another picture of his varied acquirements and of his successful activity as well as of the character of his genius. He is enumerated among the distinguished composers of the imperial city at that time under the title of “Herr Joseph Haydn, the favorite of the nation, whose gentle character is reflected in every one of his pieces. Hiscompositions possess beauty, symmetry, clearness, and a delicate and noble simplicity, which impress themselves upon the listener even before he has become specially attentive. His quartets, trios and other works of this class are like a pure, clear strip of water, ruffled by a southern breeze, quickly agitated and rolling with waves but preserving its depth. The doubling of the melody by octaves originated with him and one can not deny its charm. In the symphony, he is robust, powerful and ingenious; in his songs, charming, captivating and tender; in his minuets, natural, merry and graceful.”
One can see that in all his leading qualities Haydn was recognized in his own time. Rigid masters, like Haydn’s predecessor in service, the Capellmeister Werner, a genuine representative of the old contrapuntal school, were freely at hand with such epithets as “fashion-hunter” and “song-scribbler.” But the acute BerlinCritic, at that time hostile to everything South German, declared Haydn’s quartet, op. 19, and the symphony, op. 18, that they displayed the most “original humor andsprightly agreeable spirit.” It is J. F. Reichardt who says this: “Never,” says he, “has there been a composer who combines so much unity and variety with so much agreeableness and popularity. It is extremely interesting to consider Haydn’s works in their successive order. His first works, twenty years ago, showed that he had an agreeable humor of his own, and yet it was rather mere pertness and extravagant mirth, without much harmonic depth. But by degrees his humor became more manly and his work more thoroughly considered, until through elevated and earnest feeling, riper study, and above all, effect, the matured, original man and trained artist were manifest.” “If we had only a Haydn and Philip Emanuel Bach, we Germans could boldly assert that we have a style of our own, and that our instrumental music is the most interesting of all,” he says in conclusion.
Haydn had also transferred to the richer string quartet and full orchestra, the sonata-form founded by Philip Emanuel Bach, the organic character of which is shown by the theory and history of music. How he developed this form in its final perfection it is notnecessary to consider in detail at this time. He established, as we know, its four-part form in the Allegro, Adagio, Minuet and Finale, and by his great productivity and popularity brought this form into universal use. He was the first to give to the Minuet, which is attractive in itself, a popular, genial, and above all, a cheerful, humorous spirit. He very materially broadened, arranged and elevated the first movement of the sonata-form, gave to it more fullness and meaning through the organic development of its own motive substance, deepened the Adagio from a simple song (cavatina), to a completely satisfying tone-picture, and above all, by thematic treatment, produced in the Finale the veritable wonders of the mind and of life. That Haydn greatly heightened the effect of the symphony by giving to the various instruments their full development is apparent at once in his music, and yet it should not be forgotten that Mozart, who had studied the performances of the orchestras at Mannheim and Paris, also influenced him, above all in his operas. But the crowning result of Haydn’s work will always remain the germ of active life which he impartedto this form, and which he developed so freely that it presented a definite and finished shape. Haydn first gave the quartet and symphony that style which may be called its own.
Philip Emanuel Bach’s “Sonatas for Students and Amateurs,” always have something which may be called studied about them. They are thoughtful and considered, above all skillful and intellectual; but the free expression of feeling only appears at intervals, especially in the Adagio where Bach could depend for his effect upon the operatic aria and the feeling of the original German Lied. The great Sebastian Bach’s instrumental works are cyclopean structures, pelasgic monuments, often the elementary mountains themselves. Many a time there looks out of the stone, as it were, a visage, but it is a stony-face, like that on the Loreley or the romantic Brocken—apparition: “And the long rocky noses, how they snore, how they blow.” They are stone giant-bodies, mighty Sphynx-images, which conceal more than they tell. In the sharpest contrast with this music was the opera of that time, in which fashionable puppets affected an outward, stilted appearance of dramatic activity. Gluck firststripped off the gaudy tinsel and revealed the concealed earnestness of the reality. The instrumental music of the French and Italians suffered also from this affectation and superficiality of the theatrical music, and Scarlatti, Corelli and Couperin made the utmost effort to restore the free expression of feeling and unrestrained nature to their own place in music.
He who first revealed this “natural,” this inborn, and therefore spontaneous art, in music, speaking through its own nature and with its own voice, was our Haydn, and it was for this that Beethoven called him great and posterity has called him immortal. And, as the Italians say, that no man can paint a more beautiful head than he has himself, so, though we have seen this Haydn physically and intellectually, what matters it, if his portrait appears to us reversed in his music?
Haydn was slender but strong, and below the medium height, with legs disproportionately short, and seeming all the shorter, owing to his old-fashioned style of dress. His features were tolerably regular, his face serious and expressive, but at the sametime attractive for its benignity. “Kindliness and gentle earnestness showed themselves in his person and bearing,” says Griesinger. When he was in earnest, his countenance was dignified, and in pleasant conversation he had a laughing expression, though Dies says he never heard him laugh aloud. His large aquiline nose, disfigured by a polypus, was, like the rest of his face, deeply pitted by smallpox, so that the nostrils were differently shaped. The under lip, which was strong and somewhat coarse, was very prominent. His complexion was very brown. One of his biographical sketches mentions that he was called a Moor. He considered himself ugly, and mentioned two Princes who could not endure his appearance, because he seemed deformed to them. He stuck to his wig, which has been already mentioned, in spite of all the changing modes, through two generations, even to his death, but it concealed, to the disadvantage of the general expression of his physiognomy, a large part of his broad and finely developed forehead. Lavater, looking at his silhouette, said: “I see something more than common in his nose and eyebrows. The forehead alsois good. The mouth has something of the Philistine about it.”
“There was great joyousness and mirth in his character,” says Dies, and in his old age he said himself: “Life is a charming affair.” Joy in life was the fundamental characteristic of his existence and his compositions. His individual lot and his satisfaction with common things contributed to this. “Contentment is happiness,” says the philosopher. The unvarying simplicity of his life secured him the luxury of good health, and next to that, the feeling of joy in living. But in reality it is not this life-joyousness alone that is reflected in his works. Though the influence of his outward life and of his inner development were conducive to quiet reflection and earnest thought, he preferred to give a sprightly turn to conversation. We have already learned how deep were his personal attachments and gratitude. He was also very beneficent and kindly disposed. “Haydn’s humanity was exhibited to the high and low,” Dies once said, and modesty was his simple Austrian virtue. Griesinger justly attributes religion as the basis of all these qualities, whichwith him was the simple piety of the heart—not a mere passing impulse, but the All and the Eternal reflected in him. The result of this beautiful influence upon him was that he was never imperious or haughty, notwithstanding all the fame that was so profusely showered upon him during his life. “Honor and fame were the two powerful elements that controlled him, but I have never known an instance,” says Dies, “where they degenerated into immoderate ambition.” He regarded his talent as a blessed gift from Heaven, and no one was more ready to give new comers their just deserts. He always spoke of Gluck and Handel with the most grateful reverence, just as he did of Philip Emanuel Bach. Of his incomparably beautiful relations with Mozart we shall soon learn. Nevertheless he was not ignorant of his own worth. “I believe I have done my duty, and that the world has been benefited by my works. Let others do the same,” he used to say. He could not endure personal flattery and when it was offered would resent it. He never allowed his goodness to be abused and if it were attempted he would grow irritated and satirical.
“A harmless waggishness, or what the English call humor, was a leading trait in Haydn’s character. He delighted in discovering the comical side of things, and after spending an hour with him you could not help observing that he was full of the spirit of the Austrian national cheerfulness,” says Griesinger. We may well conceive that in his younger days he was very susceptible to love, and in his old age he always had compliments for the ladies; but we must understand his remark that “this is a part of my business,” in the same sense that Goethe’s “Elegie Amor” is “stuff for song,” and the “higher style” to the romantic poets. In fact, without some such personal inspiration, like the ever-glowing and universal fire that animates humanity, many of his pieces, especially his adagios, can not be understood. “It has a deep meaning; it is rather difficult, but full of feeling,” he once said of a sonata, to his highly esteemed friend, Frau von Genzinger, whom we shall soon meet. It is the one, according to all the indications, which the letters give, whose Adagio Cantabile is in B sharp major, 3/4, and has in the second part agrand and mystical modulation, with shifting of melody in the treble and bass by means of the crossed hands. The first Allegro is also constructed like a quiet conversation between a male and female voice. “I had so much to say to Your Grace and so much to confess, from which no one but Your Grace could absolve me,” he writes. He begs that he may call her a friend “for ever,” and the Minuet, which she had asked of him in a letter a short time before, wonderfully expresses the request.
At a later period in London, he took an English singer, Miss Billington, under his protection, whose conduct was not highly regarded and had even been severely criticised in the public press. “It is said that her character is faulty, but in spite of all this, she is a great genius, though hated by all the women because she is handsome,” he writes in his diary. The diary also contains letters from an English widow, Madame Schroter, who loved him devotedly. “She was still a beautiful and attractive woman, though over sixty, and had I been free, I should certainly have married her,” he said upon one occasion toDies, with his peculiar roguish laugh. A single extract from these tender letters is enough for us to understand the depth of her devotion: “My dearest Haydn, I feel for you the deepest and warmest love of which the human heart is capable.” Unless it has something to feed upon, however, the hottest fire will be extinguished. He could not comprehend in his later life, how so many beautiful women had fallen in love with him. “My beauty could not have attracted them,” he said in 1805, to Dies, and when the latter replied, “you have a certain genial something in your face,” he answered: “One may see that I am on good terms with every one.” “He did not fancy that he was made of any better material, nor did he seek, through assumed purity, to place himself on any higher plane of morality than his own opinion justified,” explains Dies. He was the unaffected child of his Austrian home in a time when one seemed still to wander in Paradise and life had no thorns.
Thus, from every point of view, Joseph Haydn stands before us an original, well defined personality, passing, as his life-long bearingshows us, from an artificial and unnatural time in every way, to a period of the renewed free assertion of individuality and its involuntary expression of feeling. He tells us with the utmost naivete, that it was not composition but inclination and enthusiasm that had been his inspiration. “Haydn always sketched out his works at the piano,” says Griesinger. “I seated myself and began to compose,” says Haydn, “whatever my mood suggested, sad or joyous, earnest or trifling. As soon as I seized upon an idea, I used my utmost efforts to develop and hold it fast in conformity with every rule of the art. The reason why so many composers fail is that they string fragments together. They break off almost as soon as they have commenced, and nothing is left to make an impression upon the heart.” He always wrote, impelled by inspiration, but at first only the outlines of the whole. That it was this poetico-musical impulse that urged him on, is shown by the following anecdote:
“About the year 1770, Haydn was prostrated with a burning fever, and his physician had expressly forbidden him to do any musicalwork during his convalescence,” says Griesinger. “His wife shortly afterward went to church one day, leaving strict instructions with the servant about the doctor’s orders. Scarcely had she gone, when he sent the servant away upon some errand, and hurriedly rushed to the piano. At the very first touch the idea of a whole sonata presented itself in his mind, and the first part was finished while his wife was at church. When he heard her coming back he quickly threw himself into bed again and composed the rest of the sonata there. Mozart and Beethoven certainly did not at first need the piano in composing, and it is by no means certain that Haydn also did not find that first movement in bed. In any case, the anecdote shows the simple, artistic, involuntary power that moved him.”
From the same source also proceeded the vital personal impulse of his joyous expression, and the individual physiognomy of the themes and motives in his compositions. His melody throughout reminds one of the aria, not in the affected rococo style of Louis Fourteenth’s time, but based upon grammaticaldeclamation; and it is only a certain regularly recurring pattern of the melody that makes us feel it belongs to the very time in which he was living. The separate parts of the sonata-form were infused with a stronger vitality by this virile humor and elevated and refined feeling. In this connection Griesinger’s remark is specially pertinent. “This humor is extremely striking in his compositions, and this is specially characteristic of his Allegros and Finales, which playfully keep the listener alternating from what has the appearance of seriousness to the highest style of humor, until it reaches unrestrained joyousness.” Dies calls it “popular and refined, but in the highest sense, original musical wit.” This musical frolicsomeness opened in reality a new and richly profitable province for art. It aroused a spirit which had hitherto slumbered, and from Mozart and Beethoven, even to Schumann and Wagner, we find this simplest soul-voice and these wonderfully expressive tones, ravishing and at the same time sorrowful in their nature, springing up; for the basis of this voice is the involuntary but deep feeling for human life, sorrowing with itssorrow, merry with its folly, and always intimately associated with all human actions.
Haydn himself attributes to this state of mind many features of his Adagios as well as of his Minuets and Finales. The increasing intellectual progress brought in time “ideas which swept through his mind and which he strove to express in the language of tones.” He himself told Griesinger that in his symphonies he often pictured “moral attributes.” In one of the oldest the prominent idea was that God spoke to a hardened sinner, beseeching him to repent, but the careless sinner gave no heed to the admonition. A symphony of the year 1767 is called “The Philosopher;” a divertimento, “The Beloved Schoolmaster;” and another work of a later period, “The Distracted One.”
An anecdote of the year 1772 shows us a characteristic illustration of this artistic life-work. After the year 1766 the Prince made a summer-residence of the castle at Esterhaz, on the Neusiedler-See, where he remained fully half the year, accompanied by the best of his musicians. “I was at that time young and lively, and consequently not any better offthan the others,” said Haydn with a laugh, especially in reference to the longing of his musicians to go home to their wives and children. “The Prince must have known of their very natural home-sickness for some time, and the ludicrous appearance they presented when he announced to them that he had suddenly decided to remain there two months longer, amused him very much,” says Dies. The order plunged the young men into despair. They besieged the Capellmeister, and no one sympathized with them more than Haydn. Should he present a petition? That would only expose them to laughter. He put a multitude of similar questions to himself, but without answer. What did he do? Not many evenings after, the Prince was surprised in a very extraordinary manner. Right in the midst of some passionate music one instrument ceased, the player noiselessly folded up his music, put out his light and went away. Soon a second finished and went off also; a third and fourth followed, all extinguishing their lights and taking their instruments away. The orchestra grew smaller and more indistinct. ThePrince and all present sat in silent wonder. Finally the last but one extinguished his light, and then Haydn took his and went also. Only the first violinist remained. Haydn had purposely selected this one, as his playing was very pleasing to the Prince and therefore he would be constrained to wait to the end. The end came. The last light was extinguished and even Tomasini disappeared. Then the Prince arose and said, “If all go, we may as well go too.” The players meanwhile had collected in the ante-room, and the Prince said smiling, “Haydn, the gentlemen have my consent to go to-morrow.” It was the composition which afterward became well known under the name of “The Surprise Symphony.”
In like manner Haydn through his music, so to speak, could reduce his ideas and emotions to practical reality. The Chapter of the Cathedral at Cadiz desired some music for Good Friday which should follow at the end of and complete the interpretation of the Seven Words of the Savior on the Cross, after they had been spoken and explained by the priest. Haydn himself says in a letter to London, thatany text of the nature of the Seven Words can only be expressed by instrumental music; that it made the deepest impression upon his mind; and that he justly esteemed it as one of his best works. It was performed twice at a later period in London under his own direction. In the Finale he has an earthquake effect, which was called for the third time at his own benefit concert there, and is the precursor of the imagery of “The Creation.” The work as a whole is of decidedly characteristic quality. This was in the year 1780 and that Haydn was selected for the work, shows not only how far his fame had extended at that time, but above all, that his artistic ability to invest instrumental music with the gift of language was unmistakably recognized. Thus the master’s art was firmly established abroad, and he did not have to wait long before grander themes of larger proportions were tendered him.
We close with a selection of characteristic expressions made by Haydn in these earlier years of his work, about his art and artistic progress, most of which are to be found in the “Musical Letters.”
In the year 1776, he says in that autobiography which was requested of him for a “Learned National Society” in Vienna, that in chamber-music he has had the good fortune to please almost all people except the Berliners. His only wonder was that “these judicious Berlin gentlemen” kept no medium in their criticisms, at one time elevating him to the stars, and at another “burying him seventy fathoms deep in the earth,” and this without any good reason. But he knew the source of all these attacks upon his artistic work.
The Vienna Pensions Verein for artists’ widows which to-day bears the name of Haydn, and for which he had written the oratorio “The Return of Tobias,” stipulated as a condition of his admission to membership, that besides the above work, he should bind himself to furnish some composition every year for the benefit of the Society, and in case of failure to do so should be dismissed. Haydn at once demanded his deposit back, and addressed them in the following manner: “Dear friends, I am a man of too much feeling to constantly expose myself to the risk of being cashiered. The free arts and the beautiful science of compositioncan endure no fetters upon their handiwork.Heart and soul must be free!”
This was in the year 1779. It marks the full development of his artistic consciousness. He was more and more convinced of the lofty mission of an art which has its source in such creations. In the year 1781, he expressed the wish to have the opinion of the Councilor Von Greiner, one of the most distinguished connoisseurs in Vienna, often mentioned in Mozart’s biographies, with regard to the expression of his songs, and assures his publisher, Artaria, that for variety, beauty and simplicity, they excel any other he has written. The French admired exceedingly the pleasing melody of his “Stabat Mater,” work of that kind not having been heard in Paris, and very rarely indeed in Vienna. This is all the more remarkable, as Gluck at that time had already written and brought out his great dramatic works collectively. Some of his songs had been “wretchedly” set to music by the Vienna Capellmeister Hoffmann, Haydn goes on to relate, and as this swaggerer believed that he alone had scaled Parnassus, and sought to crush Haydn down in certain circles of thegreat world, he had set the same songs to show this pretended great world the difference. “They are only songs, but not Hoffmannish street-songs, without ideas, expression, and above all, melody,” he closes. We can no longer doubt from this that he would not suffer his creations to be despoiled of their spiritually-poetic nature. He would not allow his songs to be sung by any one until he himself had brought them out in the concert-room. “The master must maintain his rights by his own presence and correct performance,” says he. It is this distinctive nature and form of modern music which is fully revealed for the first time in Mozart and Beethoven, and music which has been created by the intellect can only be properly judged by the intellect.
There was also that inner something, “the musical nature,” which impelled him and urged him on to his most characteristic creations. “One is seized upon by a conscious mood which will not endure restraint,” he once said. In like manner at another time he made the characteristic remark: “The music plays upon me as if I were a piano.” Apropos of the technical side of music, he characteristicallyremarked to Dies in 1805: “If an idea struck me as beautiful and satisfactory to the ear and the heart, I would far rather let a grammatical error remain than sacrifice what is beautiful to mere pedantic trifling.”
Finally, that we may point out to the player some instances of this actual life-painting in tones, let us take the well-known Peters’ Edition, which is easily accessible to every one. First of all, among the thirty-four piano sonatas, the one in C sharp minor is a beautiful piece of earnest work and full of character, the Minuet very melancholy and illustrating the national melody of that southern people. No. 5 is the clearest picture of buoyant health. One can see young life at play in the spring-meadows. In No. 7 the music assumes a strange capriciousness, and in the Largo in D minor, notwithstanding it is barely eighteen measures long, shows the grand tragic style of Beethoven, as well as its humor, which recalls the variations in F minor, whose color and rhythm suggest the funeral march in the Eroica. The Adagio of the A flat major sonata, No. 8, is a gem of the intellectual development of all harmonic andcontrapuntal means, and in the Larghetto of No. 20, surely all the nightingales of life are deliciously warbling. Both of these are complete lyric scenes. Above all, the first as well as the last sonata of Haydn’s shows a plastic touch, which clearly reveals this master’s natural and artistic feeling, and often fills us with overwhelming astonishment at the power of genius, which in such small limits and with such simple means can utter things that to-day are immediately recognized, wherever feeling exists and is capable of manifesting itself in the comprehension of the mission of human life.
Richer, greater, more inwardly finished, if not always esthetic in the highest sense throughout, this appears in the quartets, and here, above all else, we first discover that Haydn in that style was the forerunner of Mozart and Beethoven alike, and still further, that he was the original source of the success of the later Italians who copied his sprightliness, his thoughtful style, amiability and natural spirit, while the German heroes found their native power and their free mental conception and method in his own inner life, culminatingin the matchless melody of Franz Schubert. These spirited first movements, these flowing Finales, these Minuets, these Adagios, full of ever-increasing and exuberant wit, how irresistibly they seize upon one! How their warm affection satisfies! It is, in fact, “Idea, Expression, Melody.” Glance only at the pieces which may be found in the Peters’ Edition: Op. 54, with the highly characteristic Minuet and the Finale, is remarkable in itself for a Presto contained in the Adagio, as well as for being the precursor of the Adagio of Beethoven’s sonata, op. 31, No. 1. The Adagios in op. 74, op. 76 and op. 77, are still grander in tone, but not more beautiful or fervent than those of op. 54 and op. 64. The Adagio in op. 103 has in its concluding measures somewhat of the blessed and elevated nature of the close of that most beautiful of all soul-poems which pure music has created,—the Lento of op. 135, Beethoven’s grave-song. We need not mention the symphonies, those well-known works of Haydn. Everywhere in his music we meet what Goethe calls the absolute source of all life—“Idea and Love.”
We have seen that isolation enriched andprospered Haydn. We arrive now at a period when by his intimate personal association with Mozart, and his entrance into the great changing outer world, he was destined to develop his genius to its fullest extent.