Karl Klauser

ON the river Leitha, in Lower Austria, and some fifteen miles south-east from Vienna, is a village so insignificant that it is not set down on the ordinary maps. It is called Rohrau, and there, during the night of March 31, 1732, and descended from a long line of humble hand-toilers, was born Franz Joseph Haydn, who was destined to make the family name immortal. His father, Mathias Haydn, was a master wheelwright, whose father, Thomas Haydn, had followed the same occupation. The mother of Franz, or Joseph, as he is now called, was Maria Koller, daughter of the market inspector of the locality, and a cook in the household of Count Harrach, the lord of the village. The ancestry of the Haydns is undistinguished as far back as it can be traced. This union of the wheelwright and the cook resulted in a family of twelve children, of whom three developed into musicians. They were Franz Joseph, the subject of this sketch, Johann Michael, the church composer, and Johann Evangelist, a singer of no special excellence. There is no record of musical talent on the side of either the Haydns or the Kollers previous to its appearance in the family of Mathias, and its sudden development in three of the offspring of this marriage is inexplicable.

In addition to his occupation as a wheelwright, Mathias Haydn officiated as sexton of his parish. Both he and his wife were able to sing sufficiently well to increase their scant earnings by singing in church on Sundays and holidays, and at fairs and festivals. They also indulged in music at home, after a rude fashion, the father accompanying the voices on the harp, which he had learned to play by ear. The parents of the future composer were hard-working people who feared God, and so thoroughly did they instill their religious feelings into their children, that Haydn felt the influence of this early discipline all through his long life. Of his earliest years but little is known except that, while yet a tender child, he began to manifest the musical instinct that was in him by singing the simple tunes that his father was able to strum on the harp, and by exciting wonder at the correctness of his ear and his keen sense of rhythm. These gifts, however, are by no means rare in children, and the possession of them does not necessarily insure that their possessors shall develop into Haydns and Mozarts.

One day a cousin, a certain Johann Mathias Frankh, who lived in Hainburg, paid the Haydns a visit, and his attention was called to young Joseph's precocious musical talent. Frankh was a school-master and a good musician, and in Hainburg he filled the offices of Chorregent and Schulrector. Struck by the talents of the boy, he proposed to take upon himself his education, musical and otherwise. The father eagerly accepted the offer, but the mother hesitated, for it was her ambition that the youngster should become a priest. Her objections, however, were overcome, and the result was that Haydn, when six years of age, left his home never to return to it again as an inmate. Frankh took him to Hainburg, instructed him in reading and writing and in the rudiments of Latin. He also grounded him in the elements of music, taught him to sing, and to play the violin. The boy was an apt and zealous pupil, studied with unremitting industry and progressed rapidly.

Frankh was not a lenient teacher, nor was he very conscientious in his duties at the head of his school. He was addicted to gambling, and his honesty was not above suspicion, for he was discharged from his position for cheating with loaded dice, though later he was reinstated. In common with the pedagogues of his time he was firm in the faith that what could not be learned easily could be beaten into a pupil; consequently blows were not lacking when the child proved dull of understanding, and a lesson hesitatingly recited was followed by a vigorous thrashing, after which the boy was sent to bed without his dinner. This severity, however, was not unkindly meant, for the pedagogue was equally fond and proud of his young charge, and the harshness was not without its good results, as may be inferred from the fact, that many years afterwards, Haydn spoke of his hard discipline, in which, according to his own words, he was given "more beating than bread," with the warmest gratitude. Not only this, but in his will, Haydn bequeathed to Frankh's daughter and her husband, one hundred florins and a portrait of Frankh, "my first music teacher."

This rough teaching, nevertheless, soon reached a point beyond which it was useless to persevere in it, for Frankh could flog no more knowledge of music into the boy for the simple reason that he had imparted all that he possessed. Haydn was now eight years old and had been studying two years with Frankh, when, one day, George Reuter, director of music at the Cathedral of St. Stephen, in Vienna, visited Hainburg. He was on a tour having for its object the procuring of boy voices for his choir, and meeting with Frankh, that worthy grew eloquent in the praise of his precocious pupil, and eagerly solicited Reuter to hear the youngster sing. The Capellmeister consented, and was astonished at the proficiency of the boy and delighted with the sweetness of his voice. The outcome of the hearing was that Reuter offered to take Haydn as one of the boy choir at St. Stephen's and to look after his musical education; and so, in 1740, Haydn bade farewell to his hard, but well meaning master, and went to Vienna. The parting was not without tears on both sides, and Haydn was never forgetful or unappreciative of the benefit he had received from Frankh.

At St. Stephen's an entirely new life opened to him. The school, an ancient foundation, consisted of a Cantor, a Subcantor, two ushers and six scholars. They dwelt under the same roof and ate together. The city paid for the board, lodging and clothing of the scholars, but not too liberally, and the youngsters were never under the doctor's care for over-eating and had no occasion to pride themselves on the quantity or the quality of the clothing given them. Reading, writing, arithmetic and Latin were among the studies taught in addition to music. In the art to which his life was now devoted, Haydn received instruction in singing and on the violin and clavier. Harmony and composition were also supposed to be taught by Reuter, but Haydn could never recall more than two lessons in theory imparted to him by the Capellmeister. The boy was therefore thrown on his own resources, for he had no money with which to pay for lessons from other teachers. The music that he now heard opened a new world to him and filled him with an unappeasable desire to produce such music himself. He was soon absorbed in every book on musical theory, to which he had access, and he never put it aside before he had completely mastered all that it had to tell him. In the meanwhile his attire became shabbier and shabbier; his shoes were worn down at the heels, and his appearance gradually merged into what he long afterwards described as that of "a veritable little ragamuffin." He wrote home for money to renew his apparel, and when his father sent him six florins for that purpose he bought Fux's "Gradus ad Parnassum" and the "Vollkommener Capellmeister," by Mattheson. The former was his constant companion, and he even placed it under his pillow when he went to bed. When his companions were at play he studied, and when they were over noisy and disturbed him he would, as he said many years later, "take my little clavier under my arm and go away to practise in quiet." Music had become his passion.

By and by he began to compose and was soon occupied in filling with notes every sheet of music paper that came within his reach; the more notes he was able to crowd on a page the more he was satisfied with himself, for he "thought it must be right if the paper was sufficiently covered with notes." The determination and industry of the lad were extraordinary, and he very early began to illustrate that phase of genius which is a capacity for hard work. One of his first compositions was a "Salve Regina" for twelve voices. This was seen by Reuter, who dryly suggested that it would perhaps be better to write it for two voices at first, and to learn how to write music properly before he began to compose it; but he did not attempt to show him how to do either. In fact, the boy had no other resource than to rely on his own unaided efforts to acquire the knowledge for which he so eagerly yearned, and hence, after his parting with Frankh he was wholly self-taught. Such was his life until he became sixteen years old, when his prospects, already dark enough, were to become still more clouded, for his voice broke and he was no longer useful as a boy soprano. Reuter, who had no special regard for the lad, resolved to take advantage of the earliest opportunity that offered, to dismiss him. Before this, however, Haydn's brother, Michael, had been accepted as a member of the choir, to the great delight of the former. His voice was more powerful and of better quality than was Joseph's, which gave indications of breaking. In fact, on one occasion the empress said that "Joseph Haydn sang like a raven" and requested that his brother might replace him. Michael was given a solo to sing, and acquitted himself with so much tenderness and sweetness that the empress sent for him and gave him twenty-four ducats. Reuter complimented him on his good luck and the honor that had been done him, and asked him what he was going to do with so large a sum. Michael replied: "I shall send half to my good father and keep the other half until my voice breaks," a resolution that Reuter approved warmly, and which he offered to further by taking charge of the twelve ducats. Michael gave them to him, but when his voice broke at last, the ducats were not forthcoming, and he never saw them again.

BIRTHPLACE OF JOSEPH HAYDEN IN ROHRAU.

The house still exists and is very little changed. The windows to the right, the fence and the grass plot have disappeared. There is now a bench under the windows at the left, and a rudely executed tablet inserted in the wall.

Beethoven, on his deathbed, showed this picture to Hummel, saying with great emotion: "See, dear Hummel, this is a present I received to-day and it gives me a childish pleasure."

Presently Haydn's doom was sealed. One day, in a spirit of mischief, he cut off the pigtail of a fellow student and was sentenced by Reuter to be whipped on the hand with a cane. Haydn pleaded, wept, and remonstrated, but in vain; and at last he declared that he would sooner leave the cathedral than suffer so humiliating and cruel an outrage. Reuter cynically retorted that he had no objection to the alternative, "but you shall be caned just the same, and then you can pack off, bag and baggage as soon as you see fit"; and so Haydn was punished and then sent forth into the streets of Vienna without a penny and with attire so worn and dirty that he was ashamed to be seen. The world was now before him and his outlook was dreary and discouraging enough. He was friendless, without prospects and did not know which way to turn to make either. He could return to Rohrau, where he was sure of a warm and tender welcome from his parents, but he would not burden their scanty means with his support, and besides, he had resolved to succeed by the talent that, from the first, he "knew was in him." His life at the school had inured him to privation and hunger, and if he could only earn enough to keep soul and body together he would be content. His departure from his late home took place on a stormy November evening, and he walked the streets all night hopelessly. Sunrise found him still wandering and ready to faint with hunger and fatigue. Utter despair had seized on him when he chanced to meet with one Spangler, a chorister at St. Michael's, whose acquaintance he had made some time before. The singer found it hard to win enough bread for himself and his wife and child, but he took pity on the unfortunate boy and offered him the shelter of the miserable attic in which he lived with his family. Haydn gratefully accepted the kindness, and dwelt with his benefactor through the winter, suffering, with him, cold and hunger. During this sad time, the boy's courage faltered for the first time and his natural buoyancy of spirits was dulled. He thought of finding some less precarious means of earning enough to eat and drink and to clothe himself than music presented, and for a moment he turned his back on the art he loved so well; but it was only for a moment. His instinct reasserted itself and once more he turned resolutely toward music, and never again did he falter in his determination to devote himself heart and soul to it.

In his search for employment he was, now and then, fortunate enough to be engaged to play the violin at dances and merrymakings. Then he obtained a few scholars who paid him the by no means munificent sum of two florins per month. In the meantime he studied incessantly, especially the six clavier sonatas of Emanuel Bach. With a rickety harpsichord for his companion, he forgot his misery and the squalor of the garret in which he lived. About this time he met a good angel, a Vienna tradesman, by name, Buchholz, who becoming interested in him, and sympathizing with the miserable poverty in which he struggled so cheerfully, loaned him one hundred and fifty florins, taking no acknowledgment therefor and making no conditions for repayment. It may be mentioned here that Haydn promptly returned the money when fortune smiled on him, and that he did not forget the kindness is evidenced by his first will, in which he left "Jungfrau Anna Buchholz one hundred florins, in remembrance that in my youth and extreme need, her grandfather made me a loan of one hundred and fifty florins without interest which I faithfully repaid fifty years ago." This money was a godsend, for it enabled him to procure a room of his own. The new apartment was not a great improvement on that which he had quitted. It was in the old "Michaelerhaus"; and was also a garret boarded off from a larger room. There was scarcely any light and the space was hardly more than would suffice for a fair-sized closet. The roof was in a neglected state, and when the weather was inclement the rain or snow would come through and fall on the lodger's bed. However, Haydn was happy and could study and practice without interruption.

Curiously enough, his selection of this room had a great influence on his future, for in the same house lived MÉtastasio in a style befitting his position. The poet was superintending the education of his host's two daughters. He soon began to take notice of the young man whom he frequently met on the stairs, and charmed with his character, sought his acquaintance. Recognizing his talents and wishing to serve him, he taught him Italian, and after a time, entrusted to him the musical education of one of the young girls, but now referred to. He added still further to these services by introducing him to Porpora, then the greatest of singing-teachers, and one of the most eminent masters of composition. Before these friendships with MÉtastasio and Porpora began, however, Haydn lived alone for a year and a half, supporting himself by teaching for whatever payment he could obtain; playing the violin whenever he could earn even the smallest pittance, and obtaining such other engagements as would help him to buy food, and to pay for his room.

Haydn gave his young pupil daily lessons on the clavier, and for his services he obtained free board for some three years. This pupil took singing lessons from Porpora, and it was Haydn's good fortune to be called to go with her to the master's house to play her accompaniments. In order to win the good will of the surly and cynical old master, Haydn performed various menial offices for him, even brushed his clothes and cleaned his shoes. The result was that the young man received some valuable instruction in composition, from time to time, together with much cursing and more insults. Porpora had among his pupils the mistress of the Venetian Ambassador, to whom he took Haydn in the office of accompanist. The Italian, not over generous with his own money, induced the Ambassador to give Haydn a pension, and the consequences were that the struggling composer was made richer by fifty francs a month, and was enabled to add to the books he loved so well and studied so constantly.

Haydn was now about twenty years of age, had suffered great privations and had not been able to rise much above the position of a lackey; but he never relaxed in his devotion to his art. He submitted to degradations, kicks and curses because it was not in his power to resent them. The wonder of it all is that his misfortunes and his humiliations did not sour his temper irremediably, and that he should have remained buoyant and amiable to the end of his long life. His existence in his attic was gloomy and poverty-stricken, but in his old age he told Carpani that he was never happier than he was in that bare and lowly room with his worm-eaten clavier and his books.

At this period he had composed his first Mass in F, a work which, though crude and faulty, is remarkable as the effort of a self-taught genius. By this time, also, he had finished his first opera, "Der Neue Krumme Teufel," for which he was paid twenty-four ducats, but of which only the libretto is extant. It was produced at the Stadttheatre in 1752, and as it was also given in Prague, Berlin and other cities, it would appear that it was successful. Judging by those operas by Haydn that have come down to us, the disappearance of the score of his first work in that class is not to be greatly lamented. His muse was essentially undramatic, yet with that peculiar blindness to the true bent of his talents, a blindness far from uncommon among men of genius, he entertained a firm faith that it was his mission to write operas. Fortunately his opportunities to indulge his idiosyncrasy were not of a nature to enable him to turn from the path in which he was to win fame, although he composed in addition to the opera named, thirteen Italian and five Marionette operas, of which nothing has survived or has deserved to survive. Haydn was destined to revolutionize instrumental music; but the man who was to revolutionize the opera was yet to come and was to be called Mozart.

Among Haydn's other compositions at this period were some clavier sonatas written by him for his pupils. They were the fruits of his study of the first six sonatas of C. Ph. Emanuel Bach, to which he devoted himself untiringly. Haydn said, "I played them constantly and did not rest until I had mastered them all, and those who know my music must also know that I owe very much to Emanuel Bach." In fact Haydn prided himself greatly because he had been once complimented by Bach for his knowledge of that composer's works. One of these sonatas by Haydn had attracted the attention of the Countess Thun, an enthusiastic amateur of music, who expressed a desire to see him. He called on her and surprised her by his youthful appearance and distressed her by the shabbiness of his attire. The evil fortune that always kept him in want during his early years was again accompanied by the good fortune that at every crucial stage of his youthful career brought him into contact with influential friends who assisted him. The Countess questioned him about himself. In response to her inquiries he gave her a straightforward account of his situation, on hearing which she presented him with twenty-five ducats and engaged him to give her lessons on the harpsichord and in singing. His prospects brightened, and as pupils began to increase in number he raised his charge for lessons from two to five florins ($2.50)—a month! An additional piece of good fortune came to him at this stage of his prosperity in the acquaintance of Baron FÜrnberg, a rich nobleman and an ardent and talented amateur, to whose house Haydn was invited. Here private concerts were given, and the young composer heard frequent performances of string trios and quartets, such as they were.

On the solicitation of FÜrnberg, Haydn composed his first quartet, and seventeen other quartets followed within a year. The Countess Thun still remained a warm friend and used all her influence for his advancement. FÜrnberg, who appears to have been very fond of him, was no less eager to push his fortunes. Through these two supporters he was introduced to Count Ferdinand Maximilian Morzin, a Bohemian nobleman, immensely rich and a great lover of music. He had an orchestra of some eighteen performers, which, when necessity demanded, was augmented by servants who were musicians. Through the solicitations of FÜrnberg, Morzin appointed Haydn his Musikdirector and Kammercompositor, and in 1759, at the age of twenty-seven, the composer began, what was up to that date, the most important stage of his artistic career, and ended forever his painful and uncertain toil for enough to eat from day to day. For twenty-one years he had struggled in misery, almost hopelessly, but without ever losing wholly his faith in his future, and always buoyed up by his intense love for his art. When he entered on the duties of his new position it is not unreasonable to believe that he looked back on his past, on the childhood days when he was beaten and sent to bed hungry by the stern but well-meaning Frankh; on his days of neglect and cruel insult under Reuter; on his homeless wanderings through the streets of Vienna, on that chill November night, not knowing how to obtain food and shelter; on his humiliating lackey services to Porpora. It was all over now, however, and he was never again to know want for the half century he had yet to live.

In his first year with Count Morzin, Haydn, taking advantage of the opportunities afforded him for hearing his own music performed by able musicians, wrote his first symphony. It is a brief work in three movements, for string quintet, two oboes, and two horns. It reflects Emanuel Bach strongly, but in its brightness and easy flow foreshadows the future style of the composer. It was the forerunner of one hundred and twenty-five symphonies, some of which were to break wholly with the past, and to widen infinitely the bounds of instrumental music, and to pave the way for a Beethoven. Haydn was now in comparative wealth. His salary was two hundred florins ($100), and in addition he received board and lodging free. Fortune seemed to smile on him at last. Unfortunately, in this bright hour he took a step which embittered his life for nearly forty years.

When Haydn was in the depths of poverty that attended his early days of adversity he made the acquaintance of one Keller, a wig-maker. This person had two daughters to whom Haydn gave music lessons. He fell desperately in love with the younger, but she entered a convent and took the veil. Her father, however, urgently entreated Haydn to marry the other, and in an evil hour he consented, though she was three years his elder. When prosperity dawned on him, with equal honesty and ill luck he kept his promise, and on the 26th of November, 1760, the girl became his wife. It was not long before he discovered his irreparable mistake. The partner he had taken for life was a vixen, foul-mouthed, quarrelsome, a bigot in religion, reckless in extravagance, utterly unappreciative of her husband's genius, and, as he complained, "did not care whether he was an artist or a cobbler," as long as he could supply her with money. She bickered with him constantly, insulted him for his inability to clothe her expensively, refused to know his friends, and acted like the virago that she was on the slightest provocation. Naturally genial and affectionate, and peculiarly fitted for a happy domestic life by his peaceful and amiable temperament, it is not surprising that he soon wearied of the woman who made existence a torture to him. No children came to soften the asperities of this ill-assorted union, and if Haydn turned from it to find the happiness and the comfort that were resolutely denied him at his own fireside, and at last became addicted to gallantry, excuse if not pardon may be accorded him. They lived apart during the greater portion of their married life, but were not formally separated until thirty-two years later. She passed the last years of her life at Baden, near Vienna, preceding her husband to the grave by nine years.

It was not long after this marriage that the good Count Morzin found himself unable to maintain his orchestra longer, and therefore he was compelled to dismiss it and its conductor. Haydn was thus thrown on his own resources again, but not for long. By this time he had made a name for himself, and fortunately Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy had been a frequent visitor at Count Morzin's and heard much of Haydn's music there. It had impressed him greatly by its originality and its spirit. On the breaking up of the orchestra the Prince at once engaged Haydn as his second Capellmeister, and in May, 1761, when he was twenty-nine years old, he went to Eisenstadt in Hungary, where was the country seat of the richest and most liberal of the Austrian nobles. There Haydn's wandering ended, for in service of this family he was fated to remain for the rest of his life.

The Esterhazy family was distinguished for its love of music, and the first Prince Paul, who died nearly fifty years before Haydn entered on his long connection with this house, founded a private chapel, the performers in which were increased in number from time to time. There were a chorus, solo singers, and an orchestra, and they participated not only in the church services, but in concerts and eventually in operas. When Haydn joined the orchestra it consisted of only sixteen musicians, but they were all excellent artists, and the precision and finish of their playing surpassed anything of the kind that Haydn had previously heard. He was now free to exercise his musical invention in any direction that he saw fit to choose. The orchestra was at his call on any day and at any hour, and he was thus enabled to experiment with it, and as he himself said, "to observe what was good and what was weak in effect, and was consequently in a position to better, to change, to amplify, to curtail" his music according as a hearing of it suggested. He was now free from all care, cut off from the outer world, and able to give full play to the art aspirations that were in him.

With all this independence on one side, on the other he was in a position not much higher than that of an upper servant. The agreement between Haydn and the Prince is still in existence, and some of its stipulations are so curiously humiliating that they are worth reproducing here. It is impressed on Haydn that he must be temperate; must abstain from vulgarity in eating and drinking and conversation; must take care of all the music and the musical instruments, and be answerable for any injury they may suffer from carelessness or neglect; that as he is an expert on various instruments, he shall take care to practice on all that he is acquainted with; that when summoned to perform before company he shall take care that he and all members of his orchestra do follow the instructions given and appear in white stockings, white linen, powder, and with either a pig-tail or a tie-wig. For pay, a salary of four hundred florins, to be received quarterly "is hereby bestowed upon the said Vice-Capellmeister by his Serene Highness." In addition, Haydn is permitted to have board at the officers' table, or half a gulden a day in lieu thereof. The whole tone of the contract places the composer in the light of a menial. It is by no means likely that it was made intentionally offensive, and, in fact, it is doubtful if Haydn found it so. In Germany at that time, the musician was not highly considered socially, and the composer was far less esteemed than were the virtuoso of eminence and the vocalist of superior abilities. We read of musicians, in the establishments of some of these princely patrons, who, when they were not needed to play to entertain the guests, were expected to wait on table or to assist in the kitchen.

The chief Capellmeister, and nominally the head of the orchestra, was Gregorius Josephus Werner, an industrious musician, of whose compositions nothing has come down to us, and of which nothing deserved to come down. He was now old, and was to all intents and purposes replaced by Haydn, whose revolutionary ideas and innovations generally must have greatly disturbed the calm of his prim, formal, and pedagogic chief, who, in fact, rarely spoke of him except as "a mere fop" and "a song scribbler." Haydn, on the contrary, always expressed a warm respect for the old musician, who lived for five years under the new order of things and then ceased to repine, in death. But Prince Paul Anton died four years earlier, in fact before Haydn had been in his service for quite a year, and was succeeded by his brother Prince Nicolaus, the "great Esterhazy," famous for the lavishness with which he displayed his wealth and for the enthusiasm of his love for and patronage of the fine arts.

Under Prince Nicolaus a new order of things began, and his generosity was at once illustrated. The salaries of all the musicians were increased, Haydn's four hundred florins being increased to six hundred and shortly after to seven hundred and eighty-two, or about three hundred and ninety dollars of our money. The force of the Capelle was enlarged to seven singers and fourteen instrumentalists, and rehearsals took place every day. By this time, a knowledge of Haydn's music existed outside his own country, and his works were beginning to be known in London, Paris, and Amsterdam, and five years after he had been at Eisenstadt, the official journal of Vienna, the Wiener Diarium, alludes to him as "der Liebling unserer Nation." His industry was unrelaxing, for he had already composed, under the Esterhazys, some thirty symphonies and cassations, several divertimenti in five parts, six string trios, a concerto for French horn, twelve minuets for orchestra, besides concertos, trios, sonatas and variations for the clavier. His vocal compositions were a Salve Regina for soprano and alto, two violins and organ; a Te Deum; four Italian operettas; a pastoral, "Acis and Galatea," written for the marriage of Count Anton, eldest son of Prince Nicolaus; and a cantata in honor of the Prince's return from the coronation of Archduke Joseph as king of the Romans. In none of these works did Haydn rise to any high power. The greater Haydn was yet to develop.

To go through, in detail, his life at Eisenstadt would be only to repeat what has been already said, and to give a catalogue of his compositions in the order in which they were written. We shall therefore pass in rapid view the events of his career and leave a consideration of his works until we reach the point when it becomes necessary to estimate the musician rather than the man. It may, perhaps, be interesting to describe Haydn as he appeared personally to his contemporaries. He wore a uniform of light blue and silver, knee breeches, white stockings, lace ruffles and white neckcloth. His biographer, Dies, states: "Haydn was below the middle height, and his legs were somewhat too short for his body, a defect which was made more noticeable because of the style of attire he affected and which he obstinately declined to change as the fashions changed. His features were regular, his expression was spirited and at the same time temperate, amiable and winning. His face was stern when in repose, but smiling and cheerful when he conversed. I never heard him laugh. In build he was firm; he was lacking in muscle." He had a prominent aquiline nose disfigured by a polypus which he refused to have removed, and he was heavily pitted by small pox. His complexion was dark, so dark, in fact, that he was playfully called "The Moor." His jaw was heavy and his under-lip was large and hanging. Lavater described the eyes and nose of Haydn as something out of the common; his brow noble and good, but his mouth and chin "Philistine." Haydn's own opinion was that he was ugly, and he took pleasure in reflecting that it surely was not for his personal beauty that so many women were attracted to him. That he tried to make himself attractive to the opposite sex by extreme neatness of attire, suavity of manner, and flattery, in which he was an adept, is certain; and that he never lacked for warm admiration and even devoted love from women is no less well-established. He was very fond of fun, even that which was not wholly refined, and a predilection for rough practical joking abided with him to the last. He was sincere and unaffected in his piety and looked upon his talent as a gift from God, to be used dutifully in His service. It was seldom that he began to pen a composition without writing at its head, In Nomine Domini, and at its end, Laus Deo. Now and then he merely used the initials L.D., or S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria) and sometimes he wrote B.V.M. (BeatÆ Virgini MariÆ). This custom was retained not only in his works for the church, but in those for the orchestra and even for the stage; and the most elaborate dedication of all is that to his opera "L'InfidelitÀ Delusa," which he closes with Laus omnipotenti Deo et BeatissimÆ Virgini MariÆ.

Haydn's life at Eisenstadt, as it was at Esterhaz, to which Prince Nicolaus and his household removed in 1766, was one of almost complete seclusion from the outer world and of unflagging work. The quantity of music he wrote was enormous and the rapidity with which he poured it forth was astonishing. At Esterhaz he was obliged to provide for two operatic performances and for one or two formal concerts each week, in addition to the daily music. It was here that Haydn wrote nearly all his operas, the greater number of his arias and songs, and the bulk of his orchestral and chamber music. The vast quantity of music he wrote and the rapidity with which he produced it has given rise to the belief that he composed quickly; but such was not the case. His work was always carefully thought out, and whenever an idea occurred to him that he thought of musical value and worth elaborating, he pondered long over it and only began to write it out finally after he was, as he said, "fully convinced that it was as it should be." He was now in receipt of a salary of one thousand florins, or about five hundred dollars, and it is stated that he nearly doubled this by the sale of his compositions. His operas, of which he was specially fond, brought him the least profit. The extravagance of his wife, however, kept him constantly embarrassed in his money affairs, and an attachment he formed for one of the singers in the chapel, Luigia Polzelli, did not mend matters.

For the rest, the story of Haydn's life is little else than a catalogue of his works. From 1766, the year in which he became, by the death of Werner, the head of the Esterhazy Capelle, to 1790, the year of his first visit to London, nearly a quarter of a century, was the most fruitful period of his musical career. His greatest works, however, were yet to be written. Though he was already famous, he was not permitted to hold his position unassailed, and many and violent were the attacks upon him for his innovations and his disdain for pedagogic rules, by the critics of the older and more conservative school. Honors, nevertheless, began to pour in on him. The Philharmonic Society of Modena elected him a member in 1780. In 1784, Prince Henry of Prussia sent him a gold medal and his portrait in return for six quartets dedicated to him. In 1787, King Frederick William II. gave him a diamond ring as a recognition of his merit as a composer. In the meanwhile, in 1785, he received a commission to compose the "Seven Last Words of Christ" for the Cathedral of Cadiz, a fact which evidences how far his reputation had travelled from the solitude of Esterhaz. In the period named, he had written eight masses including the famous "Mariazell" mass in C, and the great "Cecilia" mass, the largest and most difficult of all his works in this kind, and now only performed in a condensed form. Within the same period he wrote sixty-three symphonies, most of which are in his earlier style, though a steady progress is shown toward the master symphonies he wrote for the London concerts.

During his residence at Esterhaz he wrote over forty quartets, and these were, up to the time of his departure for London, his greatest achievements. It was in these that he became the originator of modern chamber music and led the way to both Mozart and Beethoven. His clavier music still was under the influence of Emanuel Bach, though the twenty-eight sonatas that belong to this period, in freedom, melody and clearness are far in advance of anything that had been previously achieved. Seventeen clavier trios are also the product of this period and are still full of charm. He did not begin to write songs until he was nearly fifty years old, and the twenty-four he composed at Esterhaz were by no means of marked value. His part-songs were of a better order, but his canons were best of all, and may be still heard with pleasure.

It was during his stay at Esterhaz that his friendship for Mozart developed; and never was one great genius more cordially or sincerely admired by another than was Mozart by Haydn; and so frank was his recognition of the younger composer's worth, that he was fond of declaring that he never heard one of Mozart's compositions without learning something from it. He pronounced Mozart "the greatest composer in the world," and affirmed that if he had written nothing but his violin quartets and the "Requiem" he would have done enough to insure his immortality. The personal friendship between the two masters was a tender one and like that of father and son. On the eve of Haydn's departure for London Mozart was deeply moved and lamented their separation. With tears in his eyes he said to Haydn, "We shall never see each other again on earth," a prophecy that was only too literally fulfilled. When Haydn, then in London, heard of Mozart's death he grieved over it bitterly and with tears, and he wrote to a friend that his joy of returning home would be gloomy because he should not be greeted by the great Mozart.

It was in 1787 that Haydn received an urgent invitation from Cramer, the violinist, to visit London, but without any favorable results. Salomon took more practical measures, and in 1789 sent Bland, the music publisher, to try what personal persuasion could effect. It achieved nothing at this time, and Bland was obliged to return and to inform Salomon of the failure of the scheme. Haydn would not leave his "well-beloved Prince," but "wished to live and die with him." In a favorable hour for musical art, Prince Nicolaus died after a brief illness, in 1790. Haydn was in despair and mourned him devotedly. The Prince testified to his appreciation of the faithful services of his devoted Capellmeister by leaving him an annual pension of one thousand florins, on the condition that he consented to retain the title of Capellmeister to the Esterhazys. The Prince must have known that the Capelle would be dismissed by Prince Anton, his successor, whose taste for music was very slight. He discharged all the musicians except the wind band, which was retained to perform at banquets and other ceremonials. Prince Anton nevertheless was not unkind to those he dismissed, for he gave them gratuities and added four hundred florins to the pension of Haydn.

From this moment, Haydn was for the first time his own master, free to go whither he would. His fame, which was world-wide, assured him a warm welcome, no heed in what capital he might take up his residence, and his pensions and his savings secured him from all fear for the comfort of his declining years. He was now fifty-eight years of age. He took up his abode in Vienna and soon received an invitation to become Capellmeister to Count Grassalcovics. This he declined; but one day shortly after, he received a visit from a stranger who announced himself as Salomon of London, and was determined to take Haydn there will he nil he. Haydn resisted for a time, but at last all was arranged favorably to Salomon, who, by the way, was a famous violinist and conductor who was the projector of some prominent London subscription concerts. The terms which were agreed upon were as follows: Haydn was to have for one season: £300 for an opera for Gallini, the owner and manager of the King's Theatre in Drury Lane; £300 for six symphonies and £200 additional for the copyright of them; £200 for twenty new compositions to be produced by Haydn at a like number of concerts, and £200 guaranteed as the proceeds of a benefit concert for him, £1,200 in all, or 12,000 florins. His travelling expenses were paid by himself with the assistance of a loan of 450 florins from the Prince. He left Vienna with Salomon on the 15th of December, 1790, and arrived on English soil on the 1st of January, 1791. His reception in London was enthusiastic. Noblemen and ambassadors called on him; he was overwhelmed with invitations from the highest society and distinguished artists hastened to pay him homage. The musical societies fought for his presence at their performances, his symphonies and quartets were played, his cantata "Ariadne À Naxos" was sung by the celebrated Pachierotto and the newspapers vied with each other in honoring him.

The first of his six symphonies composed for Salomon was played March 11, 1791, at the Hanover Square Rooms, the composer conducting it at the pianoforte. The orchestra, led by Salomon, consisted of nearly forty performers. The work was received with a storm of applause and the Adagio was encored,—a rare event in that day. The other symphonies were no less successful, and were the finest works in their kind that Haydn had written up to that time. His benefit, which took place in May, was guaranteed to net him £200 but it produced for him £350. He was fÊted constantly and enthusiasm attended him wherever he went. Oxford conferred on him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music during the Oxford Commemoration, an important feature of which was three concerts. At the second of these, Haydn's "Oxford" symphony was performed, Haydn giving the tempi at the organ. At the third concert he appeared in his Doctor's gown amid the wildest plaudits. He was the guest of the Prince of Wales for three days, and at a concert given all the music was of Haydn's composition, and the Prince of Wales played the 'cello. In the meantime Salomon made a new contract with him which prevented him from complying with a recall from Prince Esterhazy, to give his services in a grand fÊte for the Emperor. He gave many lessons at his own price. Among his pupils was the widow of the Queen's music master, Mrs. Schroeder. Haydn's susceptibilities were again touched, and though his pupil was over sixty, he said afterward: "Had I been free I certainly should have married her." To her he dedicated three clavier trios. He quitted London in June, 1792, and when he reached Bonn, Beethoven called on him for his opinion of a cantata. At Frankfort Haydn met Prince Anton at the coronation of the Emperor Francis II. At last he reached Vienna, where he was welcomed with wild enthusiasm and there was the greatest eagerness to hear his great London symphonies. Did Haydn at this triumphant moment recall the homeless young man who wandered through the streets of the city on a November evening forty-three years ago, penniless and despairing, and hopeless regarding his future prospects?

At the end of this year Beethoven went to Haydn for instruction, and the lessons continued until Haydn's second departure for London. The connection between these two geniuses was not a happy one. There can be no doubt that Haydn neglected his pupil. In fact, in the midst of his social triumphs and at the height of his fame, giving lessons in counterpoint could not have had much attraction for him; moreover the twenty cents an hour that Beethoven paid for instruction was scarcely as tempting to the Haydn of that day as it would have been to the Haydn of fifty years before. The breach between the old and the young composer widened. The latter went to Schenk, a reputable musician, for additional lessons, and then refused to call himself Haydn's pupil. Haydn at one time intended to take Beethoven to England with him, but the latter, whenever occasion offered, made unflattering and contemptuous remarks about the old man, and these irritating him and wounding his self-esteem caused him to abandon his intention. Later, Beethoven's resentment softened, and when on his deathbed he was shown a view of Haydn's humble birth-place, he said: "To think that so great a man should have been born in a common peasant's hovel."

While in Vienna Haydn paid a visit to his native village Rohrau, the occasion being the inauguration of a monument erected in his honor by Count Harrach, in whose household Haydn's mother had been a cook. The emotions of the composer may be imagined. The little boy who fifty-four years earlier quitted home to study with the pedagogue Frankh, returned in the glory of a fame that was world-wide, and one of the greatest of composers, honored of monarchs, and courted of all. Good fortune had followed him from the first; and though he suffered much in those sad, early days, every change in his position was for the better. Far different was the fate of a still greater master, the luckless Mozart.

In 1794, Haydn departed on his second journey to London under contract to Salomon to compose six new symphonies. Prince Anton parted unwillingly with him and died three days after. The success of the previous visit was repeated, and his reception was even still more fervent and enthusiastic. Toward the end of this stay he was much distinguished by the Court. At a concert at York House, the King and Queen, the Princesses, the Prince of Wales, and the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester were present, and the Prince of Wales presented Haydn to the King. Both the King and Queen urged him to remain in England and pass the summer at Windsor; but Haydn replied that he could not abandon Prince Esterhazy, and beside, the Prince had already written that he wished to reorganize his chapel with Haydn as conductor. He returned to his native land, his powers still further developed, his fame increased and his fortune enlarged. By concerts, lessons and symphonies he made twelve thousand florins ($6000) enough, added to what he already possessed, to give him no further anxiety for the future.

Again was his welcome home marked by the most demonstrative cordiality. From this time out there is but little to relate except to repeat the story of his industry and his musical fecundity, until the culmination of his artistic career was reached in the works of his old age, "The Creation" and "The Seasons." The success of both was enormous, and he composed very little after the latter work. His health began to fail, and he laid it at the door of "The Seasons." He said, "I should never have undertaken it. It gave me the finishing stroke." He lived in comparative seclusion, and only once more appeared in public, the occasion being a performance of "The Creation." He was then seventy-six years of age. As he entered the concert room he was saluted by a fanfare of trumpets and the cheers of the audience. His excitement was so great that it was thought advisable to take him home at the end of the first part. As he was borne out friends and pupils surrounded him to take leave. Beethoven was present, and bent down to kiss the old man's hands and forehead. All animosities were soothed in that last hour of triumph; the crowning moment and the close of a great master's career. When Haydn reached the door he urged his bearers to pause and turn him face toward the orchestra. Then he raised his hands as if in benediction, and in a long, lingering glance bade farewell to the art to which he had been devoted since the time when, as a boy, he hoarded his florins to purchase the precious volume of Fux, which he placed under his pillow when he slept, down to this pathetic culminating moment.

Haydn's life passed peacefully until in 1809 Vienna was bombarded by the French, and a shell fell near his dwelling. His servants were alarmed, but he cried in a loud voice, "Fear not, children. No harm can happen to you while Haydn is here." The city was occupied by the enemy, and the last visitor Haydn ever received was a French officer, who sang to him, "In native worth." Haydn was deeply affected and embraced his guest warmly at parting. A few days afterward, he called his servants about him for the last time, and bidding them carry him to the piano he played the Emperor's Hymn, three times. Five days later, May 31, 1809, that busy life ended peacefully. He was buried in the Hundsthurm Churchyard, close to the suburb in which he had lived; but eleven years later the remains were exhumed by order of Prince Esterhazy and reinterred in the parish church at Eisenstadt. When the coffin was opened for identification before removal, the skull was missing. A skull was sent to the Prince from an unknown source and was buried with the other remains; but there are good grounds for the belief that the real skull is in the possession of the family of an eminent physician of Vienna.

Fifteen days after his death Mozart's Requiem was performed in honor of his memory at the Schotterkirche. Numerous French officers were among the mourners, and the guard of honor about the bier was chiefly composed of French soldiers No sooner did Haydn's death become known, than funeral services were held in all the principal cities of Europe.

The list of Haydn's compositions is enormous. It includes 125 symphonies; 30 trios for strings, and strings and wind; 77 quartets for strings; 20 concertos for clavier; 31 concertos for various other instruments; 38 trios for piano and strings; 53 sonatas and divertissements for clavier; 4 sonatas for clavier and violin; 14 masses; 1 Stabat Mater; 8 oratorios and cantatas; 19 operas; 42 canons for voice in two and more parts; 175 pieces for the baritone; and a vast collection of other works, among which are a collection of over 300 original Scotch songs in three parts with violin and bass accompaniments and symphonies.

In estimating Haydn's life-work as a composer, the principal stress must be laid on him as a reformer in his art. Contrapuntally, music had reached its highest development, but in many other important directions it was at a low ebb. Concerted music had not yet achieved any prominence as a distinct branch of the art. Vocal music was in the ascendant and the church and the opera-house offered the principal if not the only means for composers to achieve distinction. In Vienna, the Emperor, Joseph II., was a liberal patron of music, and the nobles, after the fashion of nobles generally, followed the example of the court, and entered into rivalry with each other in founding and supporting costly musical establishments of their own. The Viennese, however, had no very marked sympathy with art at its highest. One hundred and twenty-five years ago, Leopold Mozart wrote: "The Viennese public love nothing that is serious or reasonable; they have not the sense to understand it, and their theatres prove sufficiently that nothing but rubbish such as dances, burlesque, harlequinades, ghost magic and devil's tricks will satisfy them. A fine gentleman, even with an order on his breast, may be seen laughing till the tears run down his cheeks, applauding as heartily as he can, some bit of foolish buffoonery; while in a highly pathetic scene he will chatter so noisily with a lady that his wiser and better-mannered neighbors can scarcely hear a word of the piece." From which it will be seen that fashion changes but little as time passes.

Instrumental music was, for the most part, confined to dance tunes, and minuets, allemands, waltzes and lÄndler were the rage. Presently these rose to importance and musicians began to take greater care in composing them, until at length came the suite, which was formed of a series of dances all written in the same key but varying in accent and character. Then followed a second part to the minuet, in the fifth of the key, and a return to the first part, which proved to be the stepping-stone to form; and the minuet survived the suite, of which it was originally a part, and continued an indispensable element of the symphony down to the time that Beethoven enlarged it into the scherzo.

In considering the influence that Haydn exercised on instrumental music it may perhaps be interesting to take a passing glance at the condition of orchestration when he began to compose. The string band, then, as now, was the foundation of the whole, and the wind instruments were used to add solidity to the score. The orchestra generally consisted of the string quintet, two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two trumpets, two horns and tympani. The first oboe did little else than duplicate the first violins, while the second oboe only appeared now and then with a holding note, or doubled the first oboe. The first bassoon either played in unison with the bass or sustained the fundamental harmony, while the second bassoon, from time to time, doubled the first. The violas rarely had an independent part and as a rule duplicated the bass. It is true that Haydn had before him the example of Stamitz, who gave an independent part to the viola in some of his symphonies, but the innovation does not seem to have influenced Haydn. Trumpets, horns and drums had but little to do except to produce noise when contrast in effect was deemed necessary. Unquestionably, Emanuel Bach departed somewhat from this conventional and circumscribed treatment of the orchestra and gave to his wind instruments independent parts. In his symphony in E-flat is to be found, amid the customary unison and octave passages for the strings, some charming and even piquant free writing for the wind, together with a marked feeling for contrasts between the wind and the strings. The horns, especially, are used with a genuine appreciation of their peculiar quality of tone and the effect of their timbre. Occasionally the strings remain silent and the wood wind are heard alone. More than this, for there is an attempt to employ all the instruments in a manner calculated to let their characteristic individualities produce their due effect in regard to tone-color; but, strangely enough, Haydn does not appear to have been in any way swayed by the innovations of his great predecessor, whose clavier works he had studied so assiduously. Still, a near and an inevitable change in the methods of writing for the orchestra was in the air, and the ground was not wholly unprepared for Haydn.

The orchestration of John Sebastian Bach was thin despite its elaboration. The strings formed the foundation, according to the prevailing rule, and were written in so many real parts, and when wind instruments appeared, they were also used with an independent polyphony. His contrasts were, for the most part, produced by giving a melody to a simple solo instrument, accompanied only by a bass, while a figured bass indicated the chords to be filled in by the organ or the clavier. It can hardly be said that the greatest of the Bachs advanced the art and science of orchestration. Handel's scoring was in quite another vein, and may be viewed as revolutionary for its era. In his overtures, especially, his strings are used with the evident object of producing solidity in effect. The oboes often strengthen the violins in unison and the bassoons perform the same service for the basses, but he also used these instruments independently and to embroider the broad and simple themes of the strings. In addition, he made use of the latter and of the wind separately, each body full in itself and responding each to the other. Now and then he used three trumpets, and in his "Rinaldo" he resorts to four, giving the bass to the drums. In "Saul" he uses three trombones. Clarinets were unknown to him, and the bass tuba was unborn in his day; but otherwise he was acquainted with all the instruments of the modern orchestra and made use of them. One cannot recall an instance in which he used them all in combination, and hence, the four trumpets of "Rinaldo" and the three trombones of "Saul" are not heard together in any of his scores. Notwithstanding the fame of Handel, his daring innovations in orchestration do not seem to have been studied by Haydn, or if they were, they exercised no early influence over him.

Gluck's scores must be considered epoch-making in the art of orchestration. His "Orpheus" was produced in 1762 when Haydn was thirty years of age; his "IphigÉnie en Aulide" was produced in 1774, and the other "IphigÉnie" was given in 1779. In these works instrumentation was advanced to an extent that broke almost wholly with the past. When Gluck died Haydn was in his fifty-fifth year, and yet the older composer, the report of whose world-wide fame must have reached Haydn's ears, even in the seclusion of Eisenstadt, does not appear to have suggested anything to Haydn. The twelve great Salomon symphonies, Haydn's, till then, highest achievements in orchestral writing, were not produced until some seven years after Gluck's death, and in them the influence is unmistakably that of Mozart, who had undoubtedly studied Gluck thoroughly.

The word "symphony" had various meanings before it became fixed as a name for the highest form of instrumental music. It was, however, generally understood to signify an overture, and its closest connection was with the opera. Originally it was merely a notification to the audience that the opera was about to begin; an appeal for silence and to concentrate attention on the coming entrance of the singers. The French "symphony," as exemplified by Lully, opened with a slow movement followed by an allegro, frequently in fugue form, and passed again into an adagio which ended the overture. The Italian symphony consisted of three movements, the first of which was a moderate allegro, the second an adagio, and the last a livelier and lighter allegro; and the Italian overture, as will be seen, became the foundation of the modern symphony as far as the positions of the movements are concerned. Before Haydn, Stamitz, Abel, J. C. Bach and Wagenseil, as well as Emanuel Bach, had written symphonies, and a symphony by Stamitz, in D, is peculiarly interesting, inasmuch as its form is completely in accordance with that which was established permanently by Haydn. The opening movement is an Allegro, with the familiar double bar with the repeats and the binary form. The second movement is an Andante in the dominant; the third is a Minuet that has even the Trio, and the finale is a Presto. The clavier sonatas of Ph. Emanuel Bach congealed this form and had a permanent influence on it, in the impression they made upon Haydn, who, by his mastery of his art, his amazing fecundity in invention and his unflagging productive powers, was enabled to increase the scope and aim of this form so greatly as to entitle him to be recognized as the creator of the symphony. Haydn's first symphony was written in 1759, for Count Morzin. We are unaware of any printed copy of it in this country. Pohl describes it as a slight work in three movements for two violins, viola, bass, two oboes and two horns. It appears to be modelled on the symphonies of Stamitz, Abel and John Christian Bach. The symphonies that followed differed but little in character from this one and afford little if any insight into Haydn's influence on the symphonic form. He appears to have followed in the footsteps of his predecessors, curiously enough, ignoring the symphonies of Emanuel Bach. The orchestration is meagre and conventional, the violins are almost constantly playing, and the wind is only used to duplicate them. It is not until we come to the first symphony composed by him at Eisenstadt that we see him as an innovator. This work is in C-major, and is generally known as "Le Matin." It is in four movements and begins with a few bars of adagio. The opening allegro is remarkable for its variety of subjects and their treatment, and for the careful manner in which it worked out. Between this movement and the adagio is a long dramatic recitative for the violin, very impressive, but having no discoverable connection with what precedes or what follows it. In breadth, dignity, and expressiveness it surpasses anything that the composer had hitherto produced. From this time forth the symphony steadily grew under Haydn's hands; the form was enlarged, the orchestration was varied, the timbres of the different instruments were studied and instrumental effects gradually assumed an importance that increased with each succeeding symphony. But his greatest symphonies were not written until the period of the Salomon concerts. In the meanwhile Mozart had appeared upon the scene. Haydn's first symphony was produced when Mozart was three years old, and the latter died in the very year in which Haydn's connection with the Salomon concerts began. That Haydn influenced Mozart's early works is beyond question; that Mozart in turn, influenced Haydn later, is equally indisputable.

JOSEPH HAYDN.

From an engraving by J. E. Mansfield, published by Artaria, in Vienna, 1781. Haydn in his forty-ninth year.