Haydn Seek

1791 – The Year part 3 - The Concert Season - The Private Side

Charles Burney in 1781
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 19^th 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's Circle of Friends in the 1770's
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 (23^rd 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)…"

Wilhelm Cramer in 1794
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!

The Prince of Wales' pied-à-terre, Carlton House

Certainly the good outweighed the bad though. January was not even gone by, and Haydn was already atop the social heap! On January 18^th there was a Court ball at St. James celebrating the Queen's birthday. Haydn was present. The Daily Advertiser reports on January 20^th;

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…

Prince of Wales in 1791
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 19^th century forward thought of him; instrumental composer. But on February 18^th, 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 29^th, 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.

1791 – The Year part 2 – The Concert Season - The Public Side

Hob I:	NC	HRL		Key	Name		Instruments
95	95	95		c			Flute, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings
96	96	96		D	The Miracle		2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani & Strings
Hob. #	Genre		Name			Libretto		Instruments / Voices
28:13	Italian Opera		L'anima del filosofo, ossia Orfeo ed Euridice (The Soul of the Philosopher, or Orpheus and Euridice)			Carlo Francesco Badini		2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets, 2 Cors anglais, 2 Bassoons, 2 Horns, 2 Trumpets, Timpani, Harp, Strings & Continuo

 

Hanover Square Rooms

Part of the problem which comes along with the huge mass of data resulting from Haydn's visits to England lies in keeping things ordered somehow. It seems to go hand in hand with any particular author's personal interest that when something to do with it occurs, wild tangents are struck off in that direction which make one struggle mightily to keep the thread in view.

My own solution to this problem will be to take smaller bites of the apple. Firstly, I have noticed that culturally, years in London appear to be broken into 'concert season' and otherwise. Since concert season begins in late January and extends till June, this makes a neat nearly-half-year increment to look at. Second, there are two distinctly different stories going on simultaneously; the public Haydn, as reported in the already omnipresent newspapers, and the private Haydn, who appears in his own letters and notebooks, and the diaries and journals and reminiscences of the people he interacted with. And while writing four essays merely to chronicle the events of a single year may seem burdensome, you will see in the event that even with four shots at it, I can no more than touch the surface of this era, the most fascinating time of Haydn's life. I will make every effort, then, to leave wild geese strictly to their own devices!

From the Public Advertiser, January 6, 1791

Musical arrangements for every day in the week, through the winter season

Sunday – The Noblemen's Subscription is held every Sunday at a different House

Monday – The Professional Concert – at Hanover Square Rooms – with Mrs. Billington

Tuesday – The Opera

Wednesday – The Ancient Music at the rooms on Tottenham Street, under the Patronage of their Majesties.

Thursday – The Pantheon. – A Pasticcio of Music and Dancing, in case that the Opera Coalition shall take place; if not, a concert with Madame Mara and Sig. Pacchierotti  [OR]
The Academy of Ancient Music, every other Thursday, at Freemason's Hall.

Friday – A Concert under the auspices of Haydn at The Rooms, Hanover Square, with Sig. David.

Saturday – The Opera

This is the arrangement for each week throughout the season; and so full is the town of eminent professors in every department of the science, that there may be a double orchestra found of admirable performers, so as to open to places of musical entertainment every evening.

If Music be the food of Love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.

                                    Shakespeare

It would appear as though Georgian London was quite the time and place to be a music lover! Which put more of a burden upon our Haydn than he may perhaps have expected. Since he was not only committed to taking part in all of the Salomon concerts, and the opera he was composing, but also he was asked (and he usually agreed) to take part in nearly all of the plethora of benefit concerts which dotted the landscape. On top of that, he was urgently invited to attend every concert in which he wasn't a participant, no doubt to lend his celebrity to the proceedings. The main rival, The Professional Concert, even gave Haydn an engraved ivory token which granted him free admission to every concert, something which he truly treasured.

As we saw, Haydn's agreement with Salomon was to provides new works for the concert series. Which means 'new to London', not necessarily newly new. Due to the obligation to first and foremost write an opera for Gallini, we can see the impossibility of any new symphonies turning up for opening night of the series. But the 'new to London' clause was a perfect answer for this dilemma, since Haydn had smartly packed up Symphonies #90 & 92. To balance this out, he foolishly overlooked bringing along #91!

On January 15, we see in all the London newspapers this advertisement:

[PRESS RELEASE – JANUARY 15, 1791]

HANOVER SQUARE. Mr. Salomon respectfully acquaints the Nobility and Gentry that he intends having twelve subscription concerts in the course of the present season. The first of which be on Friday the Eleventh of February next, and so continue on succeeding Fridays. Mr. Haydn will compose for every Night a New Piece of Music, and direct the execution of it at the Harpsichord.

The Vocal as well as Instrumental Performers will be of the first rate, and a List of them will appear in a few Days.

Subscriptions at Five Guineas, for the Twelve Nights, to be held at Messrs. Lockhard's, No. 36, Pall-Mall.

Tickets transferrable Ladies to Ladies, and Gentlemen to Gentlemen.

But as Burns reminds us, The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, Gang aft agley… and February 11 was missed by a mile! It wasn't anything to do with Haydn, though, but came down to the difficulty of getting all of the "Vocal as well as Instrumental Performers … of the first rate" across the Channel and ready to make music. Another try for the 25^th of February also missed the mark, but finally, in the week leading up to March 11, precisely a month late, we see this announcement daily:

    The Public Advertiser:

Hanover Square: Mr. Salomon respectfully acquaints the Nobility and Gentry, that his Concerts will open without further delay on Friday next, the 11^th of March, and continue every succeeding Friday.

        Part I

Overture (symphony) – Rosetti

Song – Sig. Tajana

Oboe Concerto – Mr. Harrington

Song – Signora (Nancy) Storace

Violin Concerto (comp. Viotti) – Madame Gautherot

Recit. & Aria (comp. Rusi) – Sig. David

                Intermission

        Part II

New Grand Overture – Haydn (#92, new to London)

Recit. & Aria – Signora Storace

Concertante for Pedal Harp & Pianoforte – Madame Krumpholtz and Mr. Dussek (comp. Dussek)

Rondo (comp. Andreozzi) – Sig. David

Full piece (symphony) – Koželuch

By all appearances, this was a not-at-all unusual lineup for a London concert at the time. The subscribers got their money's worth! What is really a shame, though, is the lack of more information on what works were played. This one actually has more information than most I have seen. By inference, and knowing the customs of the time, I believe that any concerto without a composer indicated, for example in this list, the Oboe Concerto, was composed by the performer. Beyond this, things like the identity of the Haydn symphony represent a large amount of detective work on the part of a musicologist, in this case, Robbins-Landon.

Do the performers live up to Salomon's promise of "Vocal as well as Instrumental Performers … of the first rate"? Sig. David was Giacomo David(e), who was considered one of the top tenors of the time. Nancy Storace was far more than a friend of Mozart, she was also an international star who had risen to the top in Italy, Vienna and now London. Jan Ladislav Dussek was already an internationally known pianist, and was a great favorite in 1790's London. Even Madame Krumpholtz was well-known, as the student and then wife of the famous harp virtuoso J.B. Krumpholtz, who had drowned himself in the Seine the previous year when she eloped off to London, allegedly with Dussek! So their appearance together at the Salomon concerts had the extra piquancy of some private scandal to spice the public virtuosity!

'Nancy Storace in 1788'
by Pietro Bettelini

Morning Chronicle, March 12:

The first concert under the auspices of Haydn was last night, and never, perhaps, was there a richer musical treat.

It is not wonderful that to souls capable of being touched by music, Haydn should be an object of homage, and even of idolatry; for like our own Shakespeare, he moves and governs the passions at his will.

The Chronicle, especially, was a very influential newspaper, being read on the continent as well as the home island, and as far away as Vienna. Landon doesn't make much of a point of it, but it should be noted here the very important comparison between Haydn and Shakespeare. Since Shakespeare was in the midst of a major revival at the time, it was no small thing to recognize Haydn's mastery of musical rhetoric as an accomplishment of that magnitude. But it was hardly a new comparison either, the earliest ones dating back to the publication in 1776 of a book by Karl Junker called Twenty Composers: A Sketch. Junker talks about how Haydn changed the course of Viennese music with his huge transgressions of the rules of composition. We talked about this particular subject when it was current, but Junker is rather different in that he supported Haydn's particular transgressions, finding them analogous to the mixture of comedy and drama in Shakespeare's plays. In an amusing analogy of his own, Junker talks about 'Comedy' as the character of a maiden in a play who was banished from the stage by the Imperial censor, Sonnenfels. She then went to Haydn and begged for acceptance, and he, being a softie, as it were, "seized the droll thing and shoved her into his own temple". The very important points of the comparison, as I see it, are two: Shakespeare and Haydn are both entirely original characters in terms of their inspiration. They both invented their own niche in structural terms; the dramatic play was never the same after Shakespeare, nor was the musical sonata form post-Haydn. And the added irreverence of mixing drama with comedy, which we so take for granted today, didn't exist in either discipline before these two put it there.

As we look at the specific works of 1791, we will cover some of the other concerts. Some other peculiarities come up; that is, peculiar to anyone who doesn't expect a string quartet as a highlight of a concert, for example. But this first one, and the reaction to it, are good representatives of what we will come to consider 'typical'. A great variety of fine music, well-performed, with Haydn cleverly placing his 'new' symphony at the beginning of the second part, which insures all late-comers are firmly ensconced, but not yet drowsy. Salomon leading from the first violins, Haydn accompanying on his fortepiano (still quaintly called a harpsichord in the press), which was not his way, but was the British way. He hadn't done it in Eszterháza in years, except for operas. When in Rome, however…

Next time we will have a look at one of Haydn's finest operas, certainly his greatest opera never to grace a stage!

Thanks for reading!

1791 – The Year part 1 - Mons. J. Haydn, Nro. 18 Great Pulteney St. London

Commemorative plaque on current building at #18 Great Pulteney St,
installed 2015 courtesy of Haydn Society of Great Britain

[To MARIA ANNA VON GENZINGER, VIENNA. in German]

London, 8^th January 1791.

Nobly born, Gracious Lady !

I hope that you will have received my last letter from Calais. I should have written you immediately after my arrival in London, but I wanted to wait a few days so as to be able to write about several things at once. So I can tell you that on the 1^st inst., New Year's Day, after attending early mass, I boarded the ship at 7:30 a.m. and at 5 in the afternoon I arrived, thank God!, safe and sound in Dower [sic recte; Dover].

At the beginning, for the first 4 whole hours, we had almost no wind, and the ship went so slowly that in these 4 hours we didn't go further than one single English mile, and there are 24 between Calais and Dower. Our ship's captain, in an evil temper, said that if the wind did not change, we should have to spend the whole night at sea. Fortunately, however, towards 11:30 o'clock a wind arose and blew so favorably that by 4 o'clock we covered 22 miles. Since the tide, which had just begun to ebb, prevented our large vessel from reaching the pier, 2 smaller ships came out to meet us as we were still fairly far out at sea, and into these we and our luggage were transferred, and thus at last, though exposed to a medium gale, we landed safely. The large vessel stood out to sea five hours longer, till the tide turned and it could finally dock. Some of the passengers were afraid to board the little boats and stayed on board, but I followed the example of the greater number. I remained on deck during the whole passage, so as to gaze my fill at that mighty monster, the ocean. So long as it was calm, I wasn't afraid at all, but towards the end, when the wind grew stronger and stronger, and I saw the monstrous high waves rushing at us, I became a little frightened, and a little indisposed, too. But I overcame it all and arrived safely, without vomiting, on shore. Most of the passengers were ill, and looked like ghosts, but since I went on to London, I didn't feel the effects of the journey right away; but then I needed 2 days to recover.

[big snip for now]

Meanwhile I am, with kindest regards to your husband, Fraulein Pepi and all the others, most respectfully,

Your Grace's most sincere and obedient servant,

Joseph Haydn.

 

[PS] My address is as follows:

Mon : Haydn

Nr^o.18 great Pulteney Street.

Way back in 1752, we were treated to this little vignette by Haydn's biographer, Greisinger. The twenty-year-old musician, would-be composer, is in the apartment of the famous actor, Johann Joseph Felix Kurz (= Bernardon = Hanswurst);

…You sit down at the Flügel (said Kurz) and accompany the pantomime I will act out for you with some suitable music. Imagine now Bernardon has fallen into the water and is trying to save himself by swimming.' Then he calls his servant, throws himself flat on the stomach across a chair, makes the servant pull the chair to and fro around the room, and kicks his arms and legs like a swimmer, while Haydn expresses in six-eight time the play of waves and swimming. Suddenly Bernardon springs up, embraces Haydn, and practically smothers him with kisses. 'Haydn, you're the man for me! You must write me an opera!' So began Der krumme Teufel (The Lame Devil). Haydn received twenty-five ducats for it and counted himself rich indeed…

'Haydn Crossing to England' 
by Carl Röhling
The Strand Magazine April 1904

It was the closest he had ever been to the ocean. One wonders if this forty-year-old memory played through his mind that New Year Day in 1791 as he stood on deck and watched the play of the "monstrous high waves" for the first time in his life. He was a long way from that 'first big break'.

For those who are long-time readers (you know who you are, bless you!), you will detect a different approach to my presentation from now forward. The reason is both a blessing and otherwise: once Haydn reaches England, our situation suddenly becomes rather different. Instead of a sad lack of data, we are overcome by a deluge of facts and documents, whereby virtually every day is accounted for! The situation has now become the ideal model of being careful what you wish for! On the other hand, the sheer volume of music being produced is actually much more manageable, and since we now know when it is being produced, and why, it is no longer advantageous for us to look at a brief chronicle followed by several musical entries. So I will continue to attempt to edify and entertain you, and I hope the new way of telling the story pleases you.

To continue the Genzinger letter from January 8:

My arrival caused a great sensation throughout the whole city, and I went the round of all the newspapers for 3 successive days. Everyone wants to know me. I had to dine out 6 times up to now, and if I wanted, I could dine out every day; but first I must consider my health, and 2nd my work. Except for the nobility, I admit no callers till 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and 4 o'clock I dine at home with Mon. Salomon…

Ludgate  ca. 1790
William Marlow

If his first experience of the ocean was a bit of a shock for Haydn, one can only imagine what his reception in London did for him! Not being a Londoner myself, I can hardly feature what the hubbub was like. But the beginning of the modern Press Corps is plainly visible, and the racket of the City was nearly more than he could tolerate. Various authors, like Landon and Hogwood, call him overly sensitive to the noise, but I think they are underrating the fact he spent the past sixty years living either in the country or in a city a mere fraction the size of London. I submit that he is appropriately sensitive.

We will get a good feel for his thoughts, since all the while he is in England he keeps a journal of sorts which is filled with a quite fascinating and very eclectic group of observations. These London Notebooks, of which there were four originally, but with one now missing, are also translated by Landon and are in the same volume as the collected correspondence. As always, unless otherwise noted, all letters and Notebook observations produced here are courtesy of Landon's The Collected Correspondence and London Notebooks of Joseph Haydn.

We have just two letters from Haydn to the folks at home in this January, but they effectively describe his first weeks in London. This first was to Genzinger, who was preeminent in his thoughts for the last year or so. But the second letter is the one which actually tells us something which was important to Haydn's music of the time. It is to Anton Prince Esterházy, and also dated January 8:

[To PRINCE ANTON ESTERHAZY, VIENNA. in German]

Most noble Prince of the Holy Roman Empire !

I report respectfully that, despite unpleasant weather and a great many bad roads throughout the whole trip, I arrived in London this 2^nd of January, happy and in good health. My arrival created a great stir, and forced me to take larger quarters that same evening: I received so many calls that I shall hardly be able to repay them in 6 weeks. Both the ambassadors, i.e. Prince Castelcicala of Naples and Herr Baron von Stadion [called]; and I had the pleasure of lunching with both of them at 6 o'clock in the evening. The new opera libretto which I am to compose is entitled Orfeo, in 5 acts, but I shall not receive it for a few days. It is supposed to be entirely different from that of Gluck. The prima donna is called Madame Lops, from Munich she is a pupil of the famous Mignotti. Seconda donna is Madam Capelletti. Primo homo [sic] is the celebrated Davide. The opera contains only 3 persons, viz. Madam Lops, Davide, and a castrato, who is not supposed to be very special. Incidentally, the opera is supposed to contain many choruses, ballets and a lot of big changes of scenery : the first opera, Pino by Paisiello, will be given in a fortnight. The concerts will begin next month on the 11^th of February, and I shall dutifully write Your Highness more about that later. Meanwhile I remain, Your Serene Highness' submissive and obedient,

Joseph Haydn [m.p.] ria.

London, 8^th January 1791.

[PS] I take the liberty of respectfully kissing the hands of the loveliest Princess, Your Highness' most charming wife, and also the Princess Marie and Her Highness' husband.

My address is, unofficially,

Nr°. 18 Great Pulteney Street
Golden Square
London

Suddenly when we see this, we begin to realize the great chunk of work which Haydn has bit off when he agreed to come to London. The concert season lasts from early February through early June, and his agreement to provide music, lead the orchestra, write an opera and endlessly promote the whole affair is quite suddenly looming large over his head, like the Sword of Damocles!

Because of the fact that Anton discharged the orchestra and turned Haydn loose, as well as having other interests than music, over the years he has been portrayed as a rather unsympathetic figure. There is little cause for this though. Haydn certainly didn't seem to be at all put off by him, the overall tone of this letter is much more relaxed than any existing "Dread Lord" document to his father. Clearly Haydn felt that he would take enough interest in the opera project to go to the trouble of describing it in some detail. And in recent years, Anton's reply has been discovered in the Esterházy archives;

[from PRINCE ANTON ESTERHAZY, VIENNA. in German]

Well and nobly born, much respected Herr Kapellmeister,

With great pleasure I have received your letter of 8th January and the news contained therein that you arrived safely in London on the 2nd, and were so well received. I share most heartily in all this news and also in your future plans, not only about the opera which you are in the process of composing but all the other projects of which you inform me. I remain with great respect,

Your most willing
Anton Prince Esterházy.

Vienna, 3rd February 1791

Actually, he sounds surprisingly deferential to me, possibly since he has known Haydn for thirty years now, long enough to develop some respect, even for an underling!

To continue Haydn's letter to Genzinger, extracts will show what life was like in those first hectic weeks:

Now, however, I am fresh and well again, and occupied in looking at this endlessly huge city of London, whose various beauties and marvels quite astonished me. I immediately paid the necessary calls, such as to the Neapolitan Ambassador and to our own; both called on me in return 2 days later, and 4 days ago I lunched with the former N.B. at 6 o'clock in the evening, as is the custom here.

…I have nice and comfortable, but expensive, lodgings. My landlord is Italian, and also a cook, and serves me 4 very respectable meals; we each pay 1 fl. 30 kr. a day excluding wine and beer, but everything is terribly expensive here.

Yesterday I was invited to a grand amateur concert¹ [at The Academy of Ancient Music!] …they opened the door, and I was conducted, on the arm of the entrepreneur, up the center of the hall to the front of the orchestra, amid universal applause, and there I was stared at and greeted by a great number of English compliments. I was assured that such honors had not been conferred on anyone for 50 years. After the concert I was taken to a handsome adjoining room, where a table for 200 persons, with many places set, was prepared for all the amateurs; I was supposed to be seated at the head of the table, but since I had dined out on that day and had eaten more than usual, I declined this honor, with the excuse that I was not feeling very well, but despite this I had to drink the harmonious health, in Burgundy, of all the gentlemen present; they all returned the toast, and then allowed me to be taken home. All this, my gracious lady, was very flattering to me, and yet I wished I could fly for a time to Vienna, to have more quiet in which to work, for the noise that the common people make as they sell their wares in the street is intolerable. At present I am working on symphonies², because the libretto of the opera³ is not yet decided on, but in order to have more quiet I shall have to rent a room far from the center of town. I would gladly write you in more detail, but I am afraid of missing the mail-coach. Meanwhile I am, with kindest regards to your husband, Fraulein Pepi and all the others, most respectfully,

Your Grace's most sincere and obedient servant,

Joseph Haydn.

 [PS] Now I have a request to make of Your Grace. I don't know whether I left the Symphony in E flat⁴, which Your Grace returned to me, in my apartments at home, or whether it has been stolen from me en route. I missed it yesterday and need it urgently, and so I beg you to get it from my kind friend, Herr von Kees, and to copy it in your own home on small-sized paper for mailing, and send it here in the mail as soon as possible. Should Herr von Kees hesitate about this, which I don't think likely, Your Grace can always send him this letter.

1. The Academy of Ancient Music, given at Freemasons Hall ; Salomon was the leader, and Michael Kelly and Nancy Storace sang. Dr. Arnold was the conductor.
2. Nos. 96 and 95 (probably in that order).
3. L'anima del Filosofo see next letter.
4. No. 91, as yet unknown in England.

The greatest charm in naïveté comes from the person not realizing his state. It speaks well of Haydn to see how completely unprepared he was for all of this, and how uncomfortable he is with it. I'm sure he came to London expecting to be applauded in the concert hall, but nothing in his previous 58 years on Earth had prepared him for the deluge of praise which was heaped on him from the moment of his arrival. All the while he is thinking of work; how am I going to work in all this? As we see, he will manage it though, and quite nicely indeed!

I hope this brief look at January will have given you a taste of what Haydn was up against. Even though in future I will dwell on events and music more than on daily life, we will inevitably see that this constant furor surrounding him never stopped the whole time he was there. The entire trip is a non-stop social whirl. Next time we will look at the story of L'Anima del Filosofo, Haydn's first major work for England, and its sad fate.

Thanks for reading!