Story-Lives of Great Musicians

by Francis Jameson Rowbotham

It was a common fashion in Vienna at that day for poor and struggling musicians to earn a few florins by serenading personages of note in the town; but as the number of would-be serenaders was always far in excess of the number of celebrities who aspired to be thus honoured, the pecuniary advantages, as a rule, were very small. It happened, however, that Felix Kurz, the manager of one of the principal Viennese theatres, had lately married a beautiful woman, whose charms were the theme of conversation in fashionable circles, and it occurred to Haydn and two of his companions to serenade the lady with music of the former's own composing. Accordingly, the trio repaired one night to Madame Kurz's windows and began their performance. Presently the door opened, and the figure of Kurz appeared, enfolded in a dressing-gown. Beckoning to Haydn, he inquired, 'Whose music is that which you were playing just now?' 'My own,' replied the serenader. 'Indeed!' responded Kurz, opening his eyes in surprise. 'Then just step inside, if you please,' Haydn obeyed wonderingly, and having been first introduced to madame, who complimented him on his performance, he was conducted by the manager to the parlour, where refreshments were produced for himself and his companions. 'Come and see me to-morrow,' said Kurz to Haydn at parting. 'I think I have some work for you.'

When Haydn put in an appearance on the following day the manager at once proceeded to business. He explained that he had just written a comic opera, to which he had given the title of 'The Devil on Two Sticks,' and was looking out for a musician to set it to music. He had been struck by Haydn's serenade on the previous night, and believed that he would do. 'Now,' he continued, 'there is a tempest scene at sea for which appropriate music is needed. Let me hear what you would suggest.'

'"Whose music is that which you were playing just now?"'[ToList]

Haydn seated himself at the harpsichord, but as he had never seen the sea in his life, he felt at a loss how to begin. After trying a few chords he mentioned his difficulty to Kurz. 'Oh, I haven't seen it, either,' responded the manager airily; 'but I imagine it is something like this'—and he began to throw his arms into the air as he paced up and down. 'Picture a mountain rising, then a valley sinking; then a second mountain, and another valley—mountains and abysses following one another—there you are!'

In vain Haydn grappled with the subject—trying it in fifths, in fourths, then in octaves—the excited manager meanwhile tossing his arms about, and shouting and gesticulating. It was all to no purpose. At length, losing all patience, Haydn cried, 'The devil take the tempest!' at the same moment plumping his hands with a crash on to the extreme ends of the keyboard, and then rapidly bringing them together. 'That's it, that's it! You've got it now!' cried the delighted Kurz, springing at the astonished composer and embracing him with fervour.

From that moment all went well, and the opera was completed to the author's satisfaction, albeit Haydn, glad as he was to receive his reward, felt that he had little cause for self-congratulation at the results from a musicianly point of view. The opera was duly produced, and received with some measure of approval; but its life was no longer than its merits deserved, and Haydn himself was not desirous of delaying its interment, for he had higher work in view.

We must now return to his acquaintanceship with Porpora. The singing-master had observed Haydn's skill in playing the harpsichord, and thinking that he saw his way to turning the poor musician's abilities to a useful purpose, he offered to employ him as accompanist. Haydn gladly accepted the proposal, hoping that he would thus be enabled to pick up something of the master's method. Though ostensibly engaged to play the accompaniments of Porpora's songs when the latter was giving his pupils their lessons, Joseph soon found that he was regarded in no higher light than that of an ordinary serving-man. The discovery of this fact, however, occasioned him no dismay, nor did he exhibit the slightest repugnance at being called upon to clean his master's shoes, brush his coat, or dress his periwig. In vain did the sour old man hurl such epithets as 'fool,' 'blockhead,' 'dolt,' at his musical valet in return for the latter's attempts to minister to his personal comforts. Haydn's sole object was to be near Porpora in order that he might garner each crumb of knowledge—each hint, however small—that the great man chanced to let fall from his stores of learning; and the master, noting his perseverance and also the gentleness with which he took his buffetings and sarcasms, gradually softened towards his dependent, and, beginning by giving him a stray piece of advice now and then, ended by answering all his questions, and setting him right where he needed correction in his compositions. To crown all, Porpora brought Haydn under the notice of the nobleman in whose house he was teaching, with the result that, when the nobleman took his family to the baths of Mannersdorf for several months, Haydn, to his delight, was allowed to accompany the party in the capacity of Porpora's accompanist.

This piece of good fortune proved to be the turning-point in his career, for the eminent musicians whom he met at Mannersdorf not only received him very kindly, but evinced the greatest interest in his compositions, many of which were performed during this visit. His acquaintance with one of these musicians—a well-known violinist named Dittersdorf—ripened into friendship, and led to Haydn's receiving violin lessons at this master's hands. Another solid advantage accruing from his association with Porpora lay in the fact that the nobleman himself, struck by Haydn's progress, and desirous of helping on one who showed so great a talent for art, allotted him a pension of six sequins (£3) a month. Haydn's action on receiving the first instalment of this generous bounty was consistent with his desire to maintain a neat appearance, as well as an indication of the distress which his privations had hitherto caused him to suffer: he instantly repaired to the nearest tailor's and purchased a suit of black.