EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A DILETTANTE.
[Resumed from [page 16].]
January 2nd.—NATIVE TURKISH MUSIC!—Mr. Slade, in his Travels in Turkey, Greece, &c., just published, gives us a curious account of the knowledge of the Turkish Capitan Pacha, or high admiral, in musical matters. This officer had been a shoemaker, and knew as much of naval affairs as of the fine arts. Mr. Slade visited him on board his ship, and, among other amusements got up for the English traveller, was a concert, which he thus describes:—
‘In the middle of the day he (the Capitan Pacha) crept into the kennel abaft the mizen-mast, and reposed for some hours, his example being duly followed by the officers, stretched out on the quarter-deck, and covered by flags to keep off the sun. On awaking, coffee and chibouques were served. Water was then brought, with a complete change of garments! and in the same narrow box, six feet by three, by two high, he washed and dressed; then came out and enjoyed the cool of the evening on his quarter-deck couch; always doing me the honour to place me beside him with a chibouque, and no doubt it was a droll sight to the crew, who all gathered round to see the pacha and me thus cheek by jowl. His band, consisting of as many drums and cymbals as could be collected, with two clarionets and one fife, made a noise for our benefit. It played the hunter’s chorus in Freischütz, Zitti, zitti, and Malbrook, over and over, till I fairly wished it at the bottom of the sea. I not only could not stop my ears, but was obliged to applaud liberally. Thinking that its style was more adapted to Turkish music, at the same time intending a compliment, I asked the pacha whether it could perform any Turkish airs? “Turkish airs!” he repeated with astonishment; “Mashallah! have you not been listening to them these two hours?” I bowed, and took refuge in ignorance.’
7th. The first VOCAL CONCERT.—The unanimous and decided applause with which Bennet’s fine Madrigal was received, proves not only that a love yet remains in this country for such music, but we think indicates that it is on the increase. The truth is, that the concert-going public are completely nauseated with the modern Italian opera songs. The reception, too, of ‘Mad Tom,’ so inimitably sung by Braham, is another indication of a return to a healthy state of taste. By-the-by, only part of this is Purcell’s; the omission, however, of some of D’Urfey’s words, and the addition of two movements, by whomsoever made, are undeniable improvements[16].
The Hanover-square Rooms, where these concerts are held, have undergone a complete repair, are newly decorated, and the alteration in the orchestra must be attended by the most beneficial effect, as relates to sound.
10th. The late John Taylor, Esq. an oculist by profession, but all his life chiefly engaged in literary pursuits, a man of considerable talent, and much respected by a most numerous acquaintance, among which were many distinguished political characters, together with nearly all the best writers, artists, musicians, and players of the last sixty years—left in the hands of his executors a work entitled ‘Records of my own Life,’ which has lately been published in two octavo volumes. It consists almost wholly of anecdotes, town news, green-room history, and conversations of authors and professional persons of all kinds, and is a very amusing work, from which I extract some anecdotes that concern and will interest the musical world, and begin with two relating to the greatest of composers:—
‘Handel, when he first visited Ireland, in consequence of his disgust at the preference given to Bononcini in London, carried a letter of recommendation to Dean Swift. When the Dean heard that he was a musician and a German, he declined receiving him; but when his man added that the bearer of the letter was a great genius,—“A genius and a German!” said Swift,—“Oh, then, show him up immediately.”’ (i. 334.)
Dr. Morell—who furnished Handel with the poetry of many of his oratorios—related to Mr. Taylor, that ‘one fine summer morning, he (Dr. M.) was roused out of bed at five o’clock, by Handel, who came in his carriage a short distance from London. The doctor went to the window and spoke to Handel, who would not leave his carriage. Handel was at that time composing an oratorio. When the doctor asked him what he wanted, he said,—“What de devil means de vord billow?” which was in the oratorio the doctor had written for him. The doctor, after laughing at so ludicrous a reason for disturbing him, told him that billow meant a wave, a wave of the sea. “Oh, de vave,” said Handel; and bade his coachman return, without addressing another word to the doctor.’ (i. 355.)
Mr. T. does justice to his friend, the late Dr. Arnold, who, he says, with great truth, ‘was long an ornament of the musical world, and by the general estimation of his professional merits, was a man of great genius, as well as profound in musical science. In private life he was humorous, intelligent, and convivial. He was well acquainted with the world, and always took an active, spirited, and agreeable part in conversation.’
Mr. Taylor was intimately acquainted with two of the finest female singers that the history of music can boast; the following anecdotes and characters he gives of them may, therefore, be received as authentic beyond all doubt.
‘When Madame Mara first appeared as a singer at Berlin, Frederick the Great refused to witness her powers alleging that she was a German, and, therefore, could not, possibly be a good singer. At length, however, he was persuaded to hear her, and when the concert was over, he approached her, and asked if she could sing at sight. She answered in the affirmative, on which he took a piece of manuscript music from his pocket, and asked her if she could sing that. She told him that it was the most difficult piece she had ever met with; but looking it over for a few minutes, she told him that she could. “Do, then,” said the king. She complied, and from that moment his prejudice was at an end, and she became a favourite. Becoming, however, tired of Berlin, she asked permission to visit Italy on account of her health. The king, however, would not suffer her to depart.’
‘She had a very favourite harpsichord, or piano-forte, and the king, who had set a watch over her, believed that while that remained in Berlin he was secure of her. She was therefore obliged to resort to artifice to effect her escape. She sent the instrument to be repaired, but ordered that, instead of being returned to her abode, as soon as the work was done, it should be sent to Vienna. When she had reason to believe that it was secure from capture, she and her husband secretly followed it with all expedition. The wary Frederick was soon apprized of their escape, and despatched a messenger immediately to Joseph II., then Emperor of Germany, desiring that he would arrest them. The emperor, with great kindness, condescended to let them know that there was no resisting the desire of the King of Prussia, and therefore advised them to hurry away as fast as possible, that he might inform the king that his messenger had arrived too late.’
‘Madame Mara possessed a masculine understanding, and had been so much used to male society, which she preferred, that she was little qualified for intercourse with the female world. She was animated in company, and uttered humorous and shrewd remarks.’
Mrs. Billington.—‘I knew this admirable singer when she was very young, and was present when she first appeared in public, and performed a concerto on the piano-forte, at seven years old. Her brother, on the same night, performed a concerto on the violin, when he was nearly the same age. They both displayed extraordinary powers, even without considering the early period at which they had acquired so much skill. She was born at Baugh, in 1765. Her father was of a noble family in Germany, but, by the decline of his fortune, was obliged to cultivate his musical talents as a profession. He was a harsh and severe man, and partly on account of his temper, his wife was induced to quit him, and support herself as a principal vocal performer at Vauxhall-Gardens, retaining the name of Weichsel, though separated from her husband.’
‘That Mrs. Billington possessed a kind disposition, I, who knew her early and long, can confidently affirm. Her great talents rendered her an object of envious rivalry, and interested scribblers defamed her character. The man who, by his influence over her mother, obtained all the property of the latter by a real or pretended will in his favour, took possession of that property, and had the revolting indecency to remove it from her lodgings on the very day of her death; and, notwithstanding his affected friendship for the mother, almost immediately after her death published a scurrilous life of the daughter, recording actions and events which existed only in the invention of disappointed malice and venality.’
‘On her death, her [second] husband [M. Fellisson] returned to this country, and demanded her property from her trustee, Mr. Savory [of Bond street], her firm and zealous friend; and as there was no opposing claim, I understood from Mr. Savory, that he paid him to the amount of 40,000l.’
I can add to the above, that more than one of her friends, on taking leave of her previously to this journey, felt, all circumstances considered, that they should never see her again, either in England or elsewhere. She fell a sacrifice to a very much mistaken sense of duty; but the immediate cause of her death has never yet been stated.
He tells us that Mr. James Hook, (the most voluminous composer of songs that ever existed) had for his first wife a lady of very respectable talents as an artist. She had also literary talents, and wrote two or three dramatic pieces, which were well received by the public, and to which her husband’s music was adapted. She wrote the words of several of his songs. She died some years before her husband, and a considerable time elapsed before Mr. Hook married again.... ‘His two sons, James and Theodore, both displayed extraordinary abilities at a very early age, and their parents gave them every advantage of education. James was placed very early at Westminster school, where he soon distinguished himself by his classical attainments and literary powers. He also, at a very early period, displayed considerable skill and taste as an artist. He wrote an opera, Jack of Newbury, to which his father contributed the music, which was successfully performed at Drury-Lane Theatre. Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Hook enjoyed several valuable preferments, and finally became Dean of Worcester. He inherited the musical taste of his father. Theodore, his younger brother, also distinguished his talents at Westminster school. He is the author of several dramatic pieces, which have been represented with great success;—(ii. 392.)
Mr. Taylor thus mentions the late Mr. Shield:—‘Perhaps there never was an individual more respected, esteemed, and admired than this late eminent composer. With a shrewd, intelligent, and reflecting mind, and a manly spirit, there was a simplicity in his manners that obviously indicated the benevolence of his disposition. Of his musical merits it is unnecessary to speak, as his compositions were universally admired for their science, as well as for their fancy, taste, and sensibility.’—(ii. 220.)
Of Jackson, the composer, or ‘Jackson of Exeter,’ as he is commonly called, Mr. T. speaks thus:—‘Mr. Jackson possessed an excellent understanding, and literary talents of no ordinary description. His “Thirty Letters on various Subjects” is a work highly creditable to his talents and knowledge of human nature. He was a tall, good-looking man, with an expressive face, and a reserved, grave demeanour. He appeared to me to be well acquainted with history, and with the opinions of the ancient philosophers. According to the report of Mr. Opie and Dr. Wolcot, he was an admirable judge of painting.... He was one of the very few men whom Dr. Wolcot, a shrewd judge of mankind, regarded with particular respect for his intellectual powers.’—(ii. 347.)
16th. A discovery, it is said, has been made, which, were it to turn out as represented, would create an extraordinary sensation in the musical world. In examining a great quantity of manuscripts of all kinds, left by the late Mr. Harris, chief proprietor and long manager of Covent-Garden Theatre, and which had been accumulating during the last forty or fifty years, an opera in score, by Mozart, in his own hand-writing, with his signature in every page, has been found, and which, it is stated, has never been performed. This is all that has been heard on the subject; though some persons of a sanguine turn, and a lively imagination, have already persuaded themselves that it was actually composed for Mr. Harris, but at first neglected, and afterwards forgotten by him. The improbability, if not the impossibility, of this will at once be obvious, when it is considered that Mozart kept a most accurate list of all his compositions, from the commencement of the year 1784, before which time he had produced only one of his great works;—that in that Catalogue Thématique[17] he carefully recorded when, where, and for what purpose his various works were produced; and that therein no notice is taken of any opera written for Mr. Harris, or of any other whatever that has not since been performed. The chances are, then, that if this is not an authenticated copy of some of the well-known operas, it is a transcript of one of those composed by him in his boyhood, whereof there are several extant, all of which have been examined repeatedly, by different persons, and found wholly unworthy of being brought forward in any shape. This is supposed to be the grand secret divulged some weeks ago to a committee of performers at Covent-garden Theatre. At first the story had a suspicious aspect,—it seemed to be a clumsy imitation of the Shakspeare forgeries; but upon inquiry it appears pretty certain, that if there is any deception in the business, the gentlemen in whose hands the Manuscript is placed are not answerable for it. There is not, however the slightest ground for believing that the expectations excited by this circumstance will be, in any manner or degree, realized.
18th. The Royal Society of Musicians have presented Mr. John Parry, the well-known secretary of the Association for the encouragement of Welsh Poetry and Music, with an elegant piece of plate, as an acknowledgment of his zealous and disinterested services, which, it was stated by the chairman of a dinner given on the occasion, had been the means of adding, for the last twelve years, upwards of 60l. per annum to the funds of that benevolent and useful society. Such instances of active liberality are worthy of being recorded.
18th. I lately rejoiced, but it seems very prematurely, on hearing that the former excellent president of the Madrigal Society, Sir John Rogers, Bart., had met with so fit and proper a successor as his friend, William Linley, Esq. I now learn that Mr. Linley was elected; but, finding that there had been some informality in the proceeding, he requested to have the ceremony repeated at the next meeting: when, lo! it was proposed and carried, that the president in future should be ephemeral,—that he should be inaugurated at five and abdicate at nine—so that each day should bring with it a new ruler, and that each member should sway the sceptre in turn, whether qualified or not for the duties of the office; a measure which, I humbly conjecture, will sometimes place the symbol of power in hands not very well prepared to hold it. Some of the oldest and best members of the society thought that so able a composer as Mr. Linley,—the son of the author of ‘Let me careless,’—a gentleman in education, station, and fortune—would be a likely person to give efficiency to the chair: the majority at one meeting thought otherwise; and I fear that this ancient, this useful, and agreeable association will suffer by what I cannot but think a hasty, injudicious decision.
26th. A noble master in chancery, who has proposed a mode of reforming the church establishment, is for leaving the incomes of the bishops much as they are, bettering them in some cases, but proposes to abolish at once the cathedral service, and, consequently, to send adrift vicars-choral, lay-clerks, organists, and all appertaining to the musical establishment of our ancient seats of episcopacy. This has produced the following letter to the Times of to-day, and the accompanying copy of verses:—
SIR,
Having heard some rumours respecting the strange and awful visitation under which Lord H-nl-y has for some time past been suffering, in consequence of his declared hostility to anthems, solos, duets, &c., I took the liberty of making inquiries at his lordship’s house this morning, and lose no time in transmitting to you such particulars as I could collect. It is said that the screams of his lordship, under the operation of this nightly concert (which is, we doubt, some trick of the radicals), may be heard all over the neighbourhood. The female who personates St. Cecilia is supposed to be the same that, last year, appeared in the character of Isis, at the Rotunda. How the cherubs are managed I have not yet ascertained.
Yours, &c.
P. P.
LORD H-NL-Y AND ST. CECILIA.
—— in Metii descendat judicis aures.—Horat.
As snug in his bed Lord H-nl-y lay,
Revolving much his own renown,
And hoping to add thereto a ray,
By putting duets and anthems down,
Sudden a strain of choral sounds
Mellifluous o’er his senses stole;
Whereat the reformer mutter’d, ‘Zounds!’
For he loath’d sweet music with all his soul.
Then, starting up, he saw a sight
That well might shock so learned a snorer,—
Saint Cecilia, robed in light,
With a portable organ slung before her.
And round were cherubs, on rainbow wings,
Who, his lordship fear’d, might tire of flitting,
So begg’d they’d sit,—but, ah! poor things,
They had none of them got the means of sitting[18].
‘Having heard,’ said the saint, ‘you’re fond of hymns,
And, indeed, that musical snore betray’d you,
Myself, and my choir of cherubims,
Are come, for a while, to serenade you.’
In vain did the horrified H-nl-y say,
‘’Twas all a mistake’—‘she was misdirected;’
And point to a concert, over the way,
Where fiddlers and angels were expected.
In vain.—The Saint could see in his looks
(She civilly said) much tuneful lore;
So, at once, all opened their music-books,
And herself and her Cherubs set off at score.
All night duets, terzets, quartets,
Nay, long quintets, most dire to hear;
Ay, and old motets, and canzonets,
And glees, in sets, kept boring his ear.
He tried to sleep,—but it wouldn’t do;
So loud they squall’d, he must attend to ’em;
Though Cherub’s songs, to his cost he knew,
Were like themselves, and had no end to ’em.
Oh! judgment dire on judges bold,
Who meddle with music’s sacred strains!
Judge Midas tried the same of old,
And was punish’d, like H-nl-y, for his pains.
But worse on the modern judge, alas!
Is the sentence launch’d from Apollo’s throne;
For Midas was given the ears of an ass,
While H-nl-y is doom’d to keep his own!