by Sir Joshua Reynolds
In the last essay, we looked at Haydn's public life during the 1791 concert season, mainly via newspaper reports. As you can imagine, though, this just scratches the surface of the impact he made on social life too, much of which is recorded by the diarists and writers of the time.
As we know, Haydn avidly partook of the salon scene in Vienna. The picture of him as a social animal was much repressed during the 19th century, probably because it didn't align suitably with the superficial sort of lackey which he (and Mozart) was alleged to be. This sort of preferential suppression was easy to do with the scant Viennese materials available. So one sees, for example, the childhood memories of Caroline Pichler in her 1844 autobiography, published 60 years after the events, in which her statements about both Haydn and Mozart at her parents' salons are given weight equal to her memories of Beethoven at her own salons when she was 40 years old. One suspects if there existed a book by either of her parents, the Greiner's, the perspective would differ considerably!
So there is no reason to suspect Haydn of hiding his light under a bushel when he got to London then, since being an habitué of the salon was old-hat for him. And indeed, it can be said he ran with a fast crowd, including the likes of the Prince of Wales! But it isn't necessarily celebrity we seek, but rather, the most prominent people of the period who affected his stay there, both musically and personally. In this first period, there is no doubt this most prominent personage was Dr. Charles Burney.
Burney is remembered today for his History of Music in Four Volumes, the very first music history, in English anyway. More interesting to me were the shorter preludes, the accounts of his research trips to the Continent. Volume II of these, The Present State of Music in Germany and The Netherlands, published in 1773, brought him on the trail of Haydn, someone he had been pursuing ever since.
Burney 3rd from right, see end for rest of cast.
Salomon brought Haydn to meet Burney almost immediately upon his arrival in London. After a very pleasant first meeting in January, Burney had his 4 volume History of Music 'superbly bound' and presented it to Haydn (it was still in his library after his death). He also composed a long poem of welcome which he had published. It is really, well, not good, but Haydn treasured it anyway, the presentation copy is in the Esterházy archives.
Burney may not have been much of a poet, but he certainly was good at what he did, and had friends who were the cream of the British intelligentsia of the time. Samuel Johnson and James Boswell, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Oliver Goldsmith, Edmund Burke and others were all in his circle, in an arc dating back to his gaining a Doctorate from Oxford in 1769 and his admission to the Royal Society in 1773. In short, he was precisely the sort of man Haydn rubbed shoulders with in the salons of Vienna and at whose invitation he joined the Freemasons. He was also an accomplished, if somewhat academic, composer of anthems, choral works and such. But he was a true Kenner when it came to art music, and a genuine fan of Haydn.
Burney and Haydn were frequently in each others company, whether by plan or happenstance. The custom of the time by which people actually wrote to each other frequently, conveying trivial information in a way since replaced by the telephone (or worse yet, the text message), has left us with all sorts of odd little notes, such as those from Burney which were retained by his friend Christian Latrobe, a Moravian composer who had translated Burney's ode into German for Haydn's presentation copy. Burney tells him;
Having met the great man, by accident, at the Professional Concert soon after he had received my present (of the History of Music), he took the opportunity of making fine speeches innumerable, viva voce, & by that means saved himself the trouble of writing a letter, as he told me he [had] intended to do…
For Burney, a collector of letters from famous people, this was indeed a blow!
This Burney letter to Rev. Thomas Twining (23rd April) gives some reinforcement to the idea that musical life in England was not all that much different from Vienna:
I spent the day yesterday with the great & good Haydn, whom I love more & more every time I see as well as hear him. In a small party, chiefly of my own family, we prevailed upon him to play the 1st violin to his instrumental Passione (The Seven Last Words, arr. for string quartet) for which, although we performed it in 4 parts, though it consists of 16, yet its effect was admirable as executed by him, in a most chaste & feeling manner. [Afterwards,] he played the 2nd violin only to several of his quartets…
This letter set Twining, a passionate music lover, panting to meet Haydn himself and to hear him play his own music privately. Which came true in the last week of May, when Burney again arranged a 'small music party' at Chelsea College, which the Rev. Twining was invited to. This time, Haydn played viola in The Seven Last Words, but this time, it was not the string quartet version but the original composition for chamber orchestra, which Haydn was preparing for a concert on May 30. This was also quite possibly the British première of the original version, which Haydn had sold to Forster in 1787, but which had not sold well at all. Burney calls it, rightly, 'perhaps the most sublime composition without [having] words to point out its meaning, that has ever been composed'.
Newspaper articles concerning 'Haydn sightings' are innumerable, like this one in the Times of London, January 14, 1791;
At a concert at the Anacreontic Society:
"Mr. Haydn from Vienna was introduced to the meeting, [snip] On entering the concert room he was greatly applauded, the band very opportunely played one of his charming concertos (symphonies)…"
by Thomas Hardy
Mustn't overlook the opposition, of course. The Professional Concert, headed up by Wilhelm Cramer, was easily the leading orchestra of the day, and had been since the days of the J.C. Bach and Abel Concerts. They had been trying in vain to bring Haydn to England since 1783, and so it must have smarted a bit to see Salomon, their rival, finally accomplish the task. Immediately on the news being given, the war of words in the 'papers began. It started with the premise 'Surely Haydn must have written himself out by now…':
The Morning Chronicle Jan. 13:
"Upon the arrival of Haydn, it was discovered that he no longer possessed his former powers. Pity it is that the discovery did not possess the merit of novelty. What less could have been expected from his presence? HORACE mentions some Roman critics who proceeded upon the same principles of judging,
….Nisi quae terris remota…
…fastidit, et odit.
….absens amabitur idem.
(Selectively misquoting from Satires, to the effect that once a man is removed from his native land, he won't be nearly as acceptable)
Another anti-Haydn screed, this time in the Gazetteer of 2/5:
The nine-days-wonder of Haydn begins to abate …he has been exhibited at the Anacreontic Society and other music meetings and greatly to the amazement of John Bull, who expected to hear another Cramer or a Clementi; but the truth is, this wonderful composer is but a very poor performer… [snip] How Mr. Haydn and his associate Salomon came to overlook the talents of Madame Mara in the formation of their orchestra can only be accounted for from the proverbial German avarice.
A couple of low blows there, actually, since Haydn didn't come to perform, and if he had, they would have found him very competent, if not a virtuoso, which no one had ever claimed for him anyway. As for Madame Mara, of course there actually is another way to account for her absence on Salomon's stage: she was already under contract to the Professional Concert! It is so very interesting to see how wars waged through the newspapers didn't just get their beginning in modern times; they seem to have existed ever since there were at least two newspapers in town!
Certainly the good outweighed the bad though. January was not even gone by, and Haydn was already atop the social heap! On January 18th there was a Court ball at St. James celebrating the Queen's birthday. Haydn was present. The Daily Advertiser reports on January 20th;
In the Ballroom at St. James' : Haydn, the celebrated composer, although he has not been introduced yet at our Court, was recognized by all the Royal Family, and paid them his silent Respects. Mr. Haydn came into the Room with Sir John Gallini, Mr. Wills and Mr. Salomon. The Prince of Wales first observed him, and upon bowing to him, the Eyes of all the Company were upon Mr. Haydn, every one paying him respect.
This led to an instant entrée to the Royal inner circle, since the very next morning, the Prince held a concert at his residence, Carlton House. As we discover in The Morning Chronicle of January 20:
Yesterday his Royal Highness had a concert at Carlton House, at which were Haydn, Salomon, Giornovichi, David, and the principal performers, both vocal and instrumental. Such a band for the concert it would be difficult for any other metropolis to select. Detached morsels of the most exquisite modern compositions, Quartetts, Catches and Glees, made up the Miscellany of the Musical Feast…
by John Russell
This was not, of course, the only private concert which Haydn played at. There are literally dozens, but one other, which occurred in February, made the 'papers in a big way, and also was influential in the way the City thought about Haydn. Until now, he was already seen in the mode in which the 19th century forward thought of him; instrumental composer. But on February 18th, Haydn played the fortepiano in a performance of Arianna a Naxos. The singer, surprisingly to us, although probably not to the audience, was a castrato named Pacchierotti.
The Morning Chronicle:
The Ladies' Concert was last night held at Mrs. Blair's in Portland Place… The Musical World is at this moment enraptured with a composition which Haydn has brought forth, and which has produced effects bordering on all that Poets used to seign [?] of the ancient lyre. Nothing is talked of – nothing sought after but Haydn's Cantata, - or as it is called in the Italian School – his Scena… it abounds with such a variety of dramatic modulations – and is so exquisitely captivating in its larmoyant passages, that it touched and dissolved the audience. They speak of it with rapturous recollection, and Haydn's cantata will accordingly be in the musical desideratum this winter.
[snip]
Gasparo Pacchierotti - Castrato - (Anon)Every fiber was touched by the captivating energies of the passion, and Pacchierotti never, in his most brilliant age, was more successful!
As we must expect, this doesn't scratch the surface of the host of contacts which Haydn made in his first six months. He made many more in his music business, since in addition to all the other things he was doing for Salomon and Gallini, we haven't even mentioned that he was also giving keyboard lessons to wealthy ladies! Apparently the old habits of a Kapellmeister die hard, and of course, the guinea per lesson didn't hurt either! So for now, there is one more contact, right at the end of the concert season, which will again be a major influence on his life and music:
~~~~~~~~~~
[NOTE to HAYDN – MRS. REBECCA SCHROETER – in English]
Mrs. Schroeter presents her compliments to Mr. Haydn, and informs him, she is just returned to town, and will be very happy to see him whenever it is convenient for him to give her a lesson. James St. - Buckingham Gate, Weds. June 29th, 1791
Well, this could be interesting!
Thanks for reading!
In the painting, from left to right:
James Boswell (1740–1795), biographer.
Samuel Johnson (1709–1784), author and lexicographer.
Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723–1792), painter.
David Garrick (1717–1779), actor.
Edmund Burke (1729–1797), statesman.
Pascal Paoli (1725–1807), Corsican soldier.
Charles Burney (1726–1814), music historian.
Thomas Warton (1728–1790), historian.
Oliver Goldsmith (1728–1774), writer.