Mainwaring (P. 35). "For, determined to make Handel pay dear for his priority, he stifled his rage for the present, only to wait an opportunity to give it full vent. As they were coming out of the orchestra, he made a push at him with a sword, which, being aimed full at his heart, would for ever have removed him from the office he had usurped, but for the friendly Score which he accidentally carried in his bosom; and through which to have forced it, would have demanded all the might of Ajax himself. Had this happened in the early ages, not a mortal but would have been persuaded that Apollo himself had interposed to preserve him, in the form of a music-book. From the circumstances which are related of this affair, it has more the appearance of an assassination than of a rencounter; if the latter, one of Handel's years might well be wanting the courage, or the skill, to defend himself; if the former, supposing him capable of making a defence, he could not be prepared for it. How many great men, in the very dawning of their glory have been planted, like him, on the very verge of destruction! as if Fortune, jealous of Nature, made a show of sacrificing her noblest productions only to remind her of that supremacy to which she aspires. Whatever might be the merits of the quarrel at first,"——
Mattheson. "Here I must again interrupt the subtle reasoner, in order to show him his confusion, which is even greater and ruder than the preceding one, since that contained only above a dozen falsehoods, while we have here double the number. The cause of the quarrel was, indeed, quite different from what is here related. It was already mentioned long since, with all possible modesty, in the 'Ehrenpforte,' p. 94 and 193; but there was then no occasion, as there is now, to remind the reader that a cool box on the ear is no assassination, but rather a necessary warning to prepare for defence. This settles the first statement. The incorrectly-informed author relates a fable rather than a true event. Never, so long as can be remembered, have two harpsichords been played together in the orchestra of the opera in Hamburg at the same time; and as there has always been but one, a dispute about it, as narrated, could not possibly have occurred. Now, as to this dispute is attributed the origin of the fight, the remainder of the invention falls with it to the ground. There we have the second blunder. Subsequently erroneous statements are so frequent that it is scarcely possible to count them. Handel, in the beginning, played only the second violin in the orchestra; and he was, as may easily be conceived, not a more accomplished performer on that instrument than any other member of the orchestra. There we have the third falsehood, which is besides a boasting untruth. The fray occurred on the 5th of December, 1704. Handel, whom the biographer insists, as much as is in his power, on making younger the older he grows, was nearly twenty-one years of age,[11] tall, strong, broad, and vigorous in body; he was, consequently, man enough to defend himself, and to make use of the sword which he had hanging at his side. That is the fourth point, and a strong one too, which a writer very sensitive of his reputation should especially bear in mind when he, instead of recording real facts, indulges in high-flown laudations, and occasions the translator much unnecessary trouble."
Mainwaring (P. 37). "Whatever might be the merits of the quarrel at first, Handel seemed now to have purchased his title to precedence by the dangers he had incurred to support it. What he and his friends expected, soon happened. From conducting the performance, he became composer of the opera. Keiser, from his unhappy situation, could no longer supply the manager, who therefore applied to Handel, and furnished him with a drama to set. The name of it was Almira, and this was the first opera which he made. The success of it was so great that it ran for thirty nights without interruption. He was at this time not much above fourteen; before he was fifteen he made a second, entitled Florinda; and soon after, a third, called Nerone; which were heard with the same applause."
Mattheson. "The fifth brag, as to a certain opera having been performed in Hamburg, with every advantage and good result, thirty times without intermission, is surely not worth mentioning. The sixth, however, is even still finer. Let us just analyze it a little. 'Almira' was performed the first time on the 8th of January, anno 1705. Now, our chronologist counts from the 24th of February, 1684, when Handel was born, until the 8th of January, 1705, as a little more than fourteen years, while the period really is nearly twenty-one years.[12] But he is not particular about seven years. A fine arithmetician, to be sure! Mistake No. 7. 'Nero' was not the third of Handel's operas, as our author erroneously states (mistake No. 8), but the second; and it was performed for the first time on the 25th of February, in 1705. Thus, there were only forty-eight days between the two performances; at the utmost, seven weeks. In the seven weeks there were seven Sundays, seven Saturdays, fourteen post-days, not to count the St. Mary-days and the holydays. How is it then possible that the 'Almira' could have been represented thirty times without interruption? Whoever believes only half of what this historicus here writes, believes too much. That was mistake No. 9. The tenth concerns the Florindo as a man, not the Florinda as a female. Handel's opera called 'Florindo' was not his second, but his third; and it was performed in 1708, three years after 'Nero.' Meanwhile, Keiser had not only composed a new 'Almira,' as well as the operas 'Octavia,' 'Lucretia,' 'Fedelta coronata,' 'Masagnello furioso,' 'Sueno,' 'Genio di Holsatia,' 'Carnival of Venice;' but also Schieferdecker had brought out his 'Justin'; Grünwald, his 'Germanicum;' and Graupner his 'Dido.' In the year 1708, Handel produced another opera, called 'Daphne,' which was the fourth of those he wrote for Hamburg, and which appears to be unknown to his biographer, as he omits it entirely. Has the man not had trustworthy sources for information?[13] Howbeit, the dozen mistakes is complete, and we merely remark in addition, that in 1708 Handel was not 15 years of age, but quite 24. This error calculi may be regarded as a master stroke. Did we not know with certainty that George Frederick Handel died anno 1759, on the fourteenth of April, at the age of 76,[14] and we had to rely upon this blundering prosaic Homer for information respecting our musical Achilles, he would have remained constantly fifteen years, perhaps even imberbis until he came to the grave, and our barber in Hamburg, who every alternate day attended him, during five or six years, would have gained his money wrongfully. If an Englishman thinks that he can entertain us with his dreams in his mixture-language, he must be prepared for an answer from us in our heroic language. We understand him well, and have learnt his tongue; if he does not understand us, he may still learn this too.... Having observed Handel during his sojourn in Hamburg, we leave the celebrated man to the Italians and the English; but we do not believe that the moon is made of green cheese."
Mainwaring (P. 42). "Four or five years had elapsed from the time of his coming to Hamburg to that of his leaving it."
Mattheson. "Should say five or six."
Mainwaring (P. 42). "Instead of being chargeable to his mother he began to be serviceable to her before he was well settled in his new situation. Though he had continued to send her remittances from time to time, yet, clear of his own expenses, he had made up a purse of 200 ducats. On the strength of this fund he resolved to set out for Italy."
Mattheson. "Anno 1709 he was still in Hamburg, but did nothing.[15] Then there occurred the opportunity of his travelling with Herr von Binitz to Italy, free of expense; and in 1710 he had his 'Agrippina' performed at Venice."
Mainwaring (P. 44). "The very first answer of the fugue in the overture for 'Mucius Scævola' [an opera by Handel] affords an instance of this kind [viz., a musical licence]. Geminiani, the strictest observer of rule, was so charmed with this direct transgression of it that, on hearing its effect, he cried out Quel semitono (meaning the F-sharp) vale un mondo!"
Mattheson. "What does that prove? Nothing!"