“The following story,” says Dr. Burney, “was frequently told, and believed at Madrid, during the first years of Farinelli’s residence in Spain. This singer, having ordered a superb suit of clothes for a gala at court, when the taylor brought it home, he asked him for his bill. “I have made no bill, Sir,” says the taylor, “nor ever shall make one. Instead of money,” continues he, “I have a favour to beg. I know that what I want is inestimable, and only fit for monarchs; but, since I have had the honour to work for a person, of whom every one speaks with rapture, all the payment I shall ever require, will be a song.” Farinelli tried in vain, to prevail on the taylor to take his money. At length, after a long debate, giving way to the humble entreaties of the trembling tradesman, and flattered, perhaps, more by the singularity of the adventure, than by all the applause he had hitherto received, he took him into his music room, and sung to him some of his most brilliant airs, taking pleasure in the astonishment of his ravished hearer; and, the more he seemed surprised and affected, the more Farinelli exerted himself, in every species of excellence. When he had done, the taylor, overcome with ecstacy, thanked him in the most rapturous and grateful manner, and prepared to retire. “No,” says Farinelli, “I am a little proud; and, it is, perhaps, from that circumstance, that I have acquired some small degree of superiority over other singers; I have given way to your weakness, it is but fair, that, in your turn, you should indulge me in mine;” and, taking out his purse, he insisted on his receiving a sum, amounting to nearly double the worth of the suit of clothes.”
MR. ABELL.
Mr. John Abell was one of the Chapel Royal, in the reign of King Charles II. He was celebrated for a fine counter-tenor voice, and for his skill in playing on the lute. The king admired his singing, and was desirous of sending him, with the subdean of his chapel, Mr. Gostling, to the Carnival of Venice, to show the Italians what good voices were produced in England: but the latter expressing an unwillingness to go, the king desisted from his purpose. Mr. Abell continued in the chapel till the time of the Revolution, when he was discharged in consequence of being a Roman Catholic. He then went abroad, travelled through Holland, and acquired considerable sums of money, by singing in public, at Hamburgh and other places. During this period, he lived in great profusion, and affected the expense of a man of quality, frequently travelling in his own equipage, though, at times, he was so reduced, as to walk through whole provinces with his lute slung at his back. Rambling through Poland, he arrived at Warsaw; of which the king having notice, sent for him to court. This honour Abell at first declined, on some frivolous excuse; but, dreading the royal displeasure, he made an apology, and attended the king on the following day. Upon his arrival, he was seated in a chair in the middle of a great hall, and immediately drawn up to a considerable height; soon after, the king appeared in an opposite gallery, when a number of wild bears were turned in, and poor Abell was left to his choice, either to sing, or be let down among them. Of these alternatives, it may seem unnecessary to say, that Abell preferred the former; and he afterwards constantly declared that he never sung so well in all his life.
About the latter end of Queen Anne’s reign, Abell was at Cambridge, with his lute, where he met with but little encouragement. It is uncertain how long he lived after this period, but he appears to have required assistance from his friends for support, though he preserved the tone of his voice to an extreme old age.
Harrison’s Musical Magazine.
HANDEL.
George Frederick Handel, unquestionably the greatest master of music the world has ever known, was born at Halle, in Upper Saxony, on the 24th of February, 1684. Scarcely could he speak, before he articulated musical sounds; and his father, a physician, then upwards of sixty, having destined him for the law, grieved at the child’s propensity to music, banished from his house all musical instruments. But the immortal spark of genius, which Heaven had kindled in the infant’s bosom, was not to be extinguished by the caprice of a mistaken parent. The child contrived to get a little clavichord into a garret; where, applying himself after the family retired to rest, he soon found means to produce both melody and harmony.
Before he was seven, the Duke of Weisenfels accidentally discovering his genius, prevailed on the father to cherish his inclination. He was accordingly placed with Zackan, organist of Halle Cathedral; and, for three years, from the age of nine, composed a new church-service every week.
In 1698, he went to Berlin; but, losing his father, he thought he could best support his aged mother, by repairing to Hamburgh, where he soon attracted general notice. Yet this wonderful musician was a stripling of fourteen! At this premature age, he composed Almeria, his first opera.
Having quitted Hamburgh, he travelled six years in Italy, where he gave a new display of his wonderful ability, and was pensioned by the Elector of Hanover, afterwards George I.