CHAPTER IV.MUSICIANS.
The time may come when Music will be universally recognised as the highest branch of Art; as the most powerful divulger of the intellect’s profoundest conceptions and noblest aspirations; as the truest interpreter of the heart’s loves and hates, joys and woes; as the purest, least sensual, disperser of mortal care and sorrow; as the all-glorious tongue in which refined, good, and happy beings can most perfectly utter their thoughts and emotions. Perhaps this cannot be till the realm of the physical world be more fully subdued by man. The human faculties have hitherto been, necessarily, too much occupied with the struggle for existence, for security against want and protection from the elements, with the invention of better and swifter modes of locomotion and of transmission of thought, to advance to a general apprehension of the superior nature of Music. “Practical men”—men fitted for the discharge of the world’s present duties by the manifestation of the readiest and fullest capacity for meeting its present wants—are, naturally and justly, those whom the world most highly values in its current state of civilisation.
This necessary preference of the practical to the ideal may lead many, who cannot spare a thought from theevery-day concerns of the world, to deem hastily that the stern and energetic quality of Perseverance cannot be fully developed in the character of a devotee to Music. But, dismissing the greater question just hinted at, it may be replied that it is the evident tendency of man to form the lightest pleasures of the mind, as well as his gravest discoveries, into what is called “science;” and the lives of numerous musicians show that vast powers of application have been continuously devoted to the elaboration of the rules of harmony, while others have employed their genius as ardently in the creation of melody. These creations, when the symbols are learnt in which they are written, the mind, by its refined exorcism, can enable the voice, or the hand of the instrumental performer, to summon into renewed existence to the end of time. Before symbols were invented and rules constructed, the wealth of Music must necessarily have been restricted to a few simple airs such as the memory could retain and easily reproduce.Perseverance—Perseverance—has guided and sinewed men’s love of the beautiful and powerful in melody and harmony, until, from the simple utterance of a few notes of feeling, rudely conveyed from sire to son by renewed utterance, Music has grown up into a science, dignified and adorned by profound theorists, like Albrechtsberger, and by sublime creative geniuses, such as the majestic Handel and sweetest Haydn and universal Mozart and sublime Beethoven.
For their successful encounter of the great “battle of life,” a hasty thinker would also judge that theextreme susceptibility of musicians must unfit them; extreme susceptibility, which is, perhaps, more peculiarly their inheritance than it is that even of poets. Yet the records of the lives of musical men prove, equally with the biographies of artists, authors, and linguists, that true genius, whatever may be the object of its high devotion, is unsubduable by calamity and opposition. The young inquirer will find ample proof of this in various biographies: our limits demand that we confine ourselves to one musician, as an exemplar of the grand attribute of Perseverance.
George Frederick Handel
The first of the four highest names in Music, was the son of a physician of Halle, in Lower Saxony, and wasdesigned by his father for the study of the civil law. The child’s early attachment to music—for he could play well on the old instrument called a clavichord before he was seven years old—was, therefore, witnessed by his parent with great displeasure. Unable to resist the dictates of his nature, the boy used to climb up into a lonely garret, shut himself up, and practise, chiefly when the family were asleep. He attached himself so diligently to the practice of his clavichord, that it enabled him, without ever having received the slightest instruction, to become an expert performer on the harpsichord. It was at this early age that the resolution of young Handel was manifested in the singular incident often told of his childhood. His father set out in a chaise to go and visit a relative who was valet-de-chambre to the Duke of Saxe-Weisenfels, but refused to admit the boy as a partner in his journey. After the carriage, however, the boy ran, kept closely behind it for some miles, unconquerable in his determination to proceed, and was at last taken into the chaise by his father. When arrived, it was impossible to keep him from the harpsichords in the duke’s palace; and, in the chapel, he contrived to get into the organ-loft, and began to play with such skill on an instrument he had never before touched, that the duke, overhearing him, was surprised, asked who he was, and then used every argument to induce the father to make the child a musician, and promised to patronise him.
Overcome by the reasonings of this influential personage, the physician gave up the thought of thwartinghis child’s disposition: and, at their return to Halle, placed young Handel under the tuition of Zackau, the organist of the cathedral. The young “giant”—a designation afterwards so significantly bestowed upon him by Pope—grew up so rapidly into mastery of the instrument, that he was soon able to conduct the music of the cathedral in the organist’s absence; and, at nine years old, composed church services both for voices and instruments. At fourteen he excelled his master; and his father resolved to send him, for higher instruction, to a musical friend who was a professor at Berlin. The opera then flourished in that city more highly than in any other in Germany; the king marked the precocious genius of the young Saxon, and offered to send him into Italy for still more advantageous study: but his father, who was now seventy years old, would not consent to his leaving his “fatherland.”
Handel next went to Hamburgh, where the opera was only little inferior to Berlin. His father died soon after; and, although but in his fourteenth year, the noble boy entered the orchestra as a salaried performer, took scholars, and thus not only secured his own independent maintenance, but sent frequent pecuniary help to his mother. How worshipfully the true children of Genius blend their convictions of moral duty with the untiring aim to excel!
On the resignation of Keser, composer to the opera, and first harpsichord in Hamburgh, a contest for the situation took place between Handel and the person who had hitherto been Keser’s second. Handel’s decidedsuperiority of skill secured him the office, although he was but fifteen years of age; but his success had nearly cost him his life, for his disappointed antagonist made a thrust with a sword at his breast, where a music book Handel had buttoned under his coat prevented the entrance of the weapon. Numerous sonatas, three operas, and other admired pieces, were composed during Handel’s superintendence of the Hamburgh opera; but, at nineteen, being invited by the brother of the Grand Duke, he left that city for Tuscany. He received high patronage at Florence, and afterwards visited Venice, Rome, and Naples, residing, for shorter or longer periods, in each city, producing numerous operas, cantatas, and other pieces, reaping honours and rewards, and becoming acquainted with Corelli, Scarletti, and other musicians; till, after spending six years in Italy, he returned to Germany.
Through the friendship of Baron Kilmansegg he was introduced to the Elector of Hanover, was made “chapel-master” to the court, and had a pension conferred upon him of fifteen hundred crowns a year. In order to secure the services of the “great musician,” as he was acknowledged now to be, the King provided that he should be allowed, at will, to be absent for a year at a time. The very next year he took advantage of this provision and set out for England, having first visited his old master Zackau, and his aged and blind mother for the last time—still true, amidst the dazzling influences of his popularity, to the most correct emotions of the heart!
His opera of “Rinaldo” was performed with great success during his stay in this country, and after one year he returned to Hanover; yet his predilection for England, above every other country he had seen, was so strong, that after the lapse of another year he was again in London. The peace of Utrecht occurred a few months after his second arrival, and having composed a Te Deum and Jubilate in celebration of it, and thereby won such favour that Queen Anne was induced to solicit his continuance in England, and to confer upon him a pension of £200 a year, Handel resolved to forfeit his Hanoverian pension, and made up his mind to remain in London. But, two years afterwards, the Queen died, and the great musician was now in deep dread that his slight of the Elector’s favours would be resented by that personage on becoming King of England. George the First, indeed, expressed himself very indignantly respecting Handel’s conduct; but the Baron Kilmansegg again rendered his friend good service. He instructed Handel to compose music of a striking character, to be played on the water, as the King took amusement with a gay company. Handel created his celebrated “Water Music,” chiefly adapted for horns; and the effect was so striking that the King was delighted. Kilmansegg seized the opportunity, and sued for the restoration of his friend to favour. The boon was richly obtained, for Handel’s pension was raised to £400 per annum, and he was appointed musical teacher to the young members of the Royal Family.
Prosperity seemed to have selected Handel, up to thisperiod, for her favourite; but severe reverses were coming. The opera in this country had hitherto been conducted on worn-out and absurd principles, and a large body of the people of taste united to promote a reform. Rival opera-houses (as at the present period) were opened; and during nine years Handel superintended one establishment. It was one perpetual quarrel: when his opponents, by any change, had become so feeble that he seemed on the eve of a final triumph, one or other of the singers in his own company would grow unmanageable: Senesino was the chief of these, and Handel’s refusal to accept the mediation of several of the nobility, and be reconciled to him, caused the establishment over which he presided to be finally broken up. The great powers of Farinelli, the chief singer at the rival house, to whom an equal could not then be found in Europe, also largely contributed to Handel’s ruin. He withdrew, with a loss of ten thousand pounds; his constitution seemed completely broken with the years of harassment he had experienced; and he retired to the baths of Aix-la-Chapelle, scarcely with the hope, on the part of his friends, that they would ever see him in England again.
His paralysis and other ailments, however, disappeared with wondrous suddenness; after he reached the medical waters, he recovered full health and vigour, and, at the age of fifty-two, returned to England with the manly resolve to struggle till he had paid his debts, and once more retrieved a fortune equal to his former condition. It was now that the whole strength of the man wastried. He produced his “Alexander’s Feast;” but, in spite of its acknowledged merit, the nobility whom he had offended would not patronise him. He produced other pieces, but they failed from the same cause. He then bent his mighty genius on the creation of newer and grander attractions than had ever been yet introduced in music, and produced his unequalled “Messiah,” which was performed at Covent Garden during Lent. Yet the combination against him was maintained, until he sunk into deeper difficulties than ever.
George Frederick Handel
Unsubdued by the failures which had accumulated around him during the five years which had elapsed since his return to England, he set out for Ireland, at fifty-seven, and had his “Messiah” performed in Dublin, for the benefit of the city prison. His success was instantaneous; several performances took place for his own benefit, and the next year he renewed the war against Fortune, in London, by producing his magnificent “Samson,” and having it performed, together with his “Messiah,” at Covent Garden. The first renewed performance of the “Messiah” was for the benefit of the Foundling Hospital; and the funds of that philanthropic institution were thenceforth annually benefited by the repetition of that sublime Oratorio. Prejudice was now subdued, the “mighty master” triumphed, and his darling wish for honourable independence was fully realised; for more than he had lost was retrieved.
Handel’s greatest works, like those of Haydn, were produced in his advanced years. His “Jephthah” was produced at the age of sixty-seven. Paralysis returned upon him at fifty-nine, andgutta serena—Milton’s memorable affliction—reduced him to “total eclipse” of sight some years after: but he submitted cheerfully to his lot, after brief murmuring, and continued, by dictation to an amanuensis, the creation of new works, and the performance of his Oratorios to the last. He conducted his last Oratorio but a week before his death, and died, as he had always desired to do, on Good Friday, at the age of seventy-five. He was interred, with distinguished honours, among the great and goodof that country which had naturalised him, in Westminster Abbey. May the sight of his monument inspire the young reader with an unquenchable zeal to emulate, in whatever path wisdom may direct life to be passed, the moral and intellectual excellencies of this glorious disciple of Perseverance!