They were not forgotten, however, by Mosjo Ignatz Schuppenpelz, who was continually on the watch to play Master Puderlein some ill trick. The opportunity soon offered; his new principal sent him one morning to dress the hair of the Baron von Fürnberg. Young von Swieten chanced to be at the Baron’s house, and in the course of conversation mentioned the balls recently given by Prince Easterhazy, and the delightful new dances by the unknown composer. In the warmth of his description, the youth stepped up to the piano and began a piece, which caused Ignatz to prick up his ears, for he recognized it too well; it was Nanny’s favorite waltz, which Joseph had executed expressly for her.
“I would give fifty ducats,” cried the Baron, when von Swieten had ended, “to know the name of that composer.”
“Fifty ducats,” repeated Ignatz, “your honor, hold a moment; your honor—but I believe I can tell your honor the name of the musician.”
“If you can, and with certainty, the fifty ducats are yours;” answered Fürnberg and von Swieten.
“I can, your honor. It is Pepi Haydn.”
“How? Joseph Haydn? How do you know? Speak!” cried both gentlemen to the friseur, who proceeded to inform them of Haydn’s abode and seclusion in the house of Wenzel Puderlein; nor did the exjourneyman lose the opportunity of bepowdering his ancient master plentifully with abuse, as an old miser, a surly fool, and an arch tyrant.
“Horrible!” cried his auditors, when Ignatz had concluded his story. “Horrible! This old friseur makes the poor young man, hidden from all the world, labor to gratify his avarice, and keeps him prisoner! We must set him at liberty.”
Ignatz assured the gentlemen they would do a good deed by doing so: and informed them when it was likely Puderlein would be from home; so that they could find opportunity of speaking alone with young Haydn. Young von Swieten resolved to go that very morning, during the absence of Puderlein, to seek his favorite; and took Ignatz along with him. The hairdresser was not a little elated, to be sitting opposite the Baron, in a handsome coach, which drove rapidly towards Leopoldstadt. When they stopped before Puderlein’s house, Ignatz remained in the coach, while the Baron alighted, entered the house, and ran up stairs to the chamber before pointed out to him, where Joseph Haydn sat deep in the composition of a new quartetto.
Great was the youth’s astonishment, when he perceived his distinguished visitor. He did not utter a word, but kept bowing to the ground; von Swieten, however, hesitated not to accost him with all the ardor of youth, and described the affliction of his friends (who they were Joseph knew not) at his mysterious disappearance. Then he spoke of the applause his compositions had received, and of the public curiosity to know who the admirable composer was, and where he lived. “Your fortune is now made,” concluded he. “The Baron von Fürnberg, a connoisseur, my father, I myself—we all will receive you; we will present you to Prince Esterhazy; so make ready to quit this house, and to escape, the sooner the better, from the illegal and unworthy tyranny of an avaricious periwig maker.”
Joseph knew not what to reply, for with every word of von Swieten his astonishment increased. At length he faltered, blushing, “Your honor is much mistaken, if you think I am tyrannized over in this house; on the contrary, Master von Puderlein treats me as his own son, and his daughter loves me as a brother. He took me in when I was helpless and destitute, without the means of earning my bread.”