It is, however, unnecessary to dwell upon the matter of age. The interesting point is that Haydn fell under the spell of the charming widow. There is no account of their first meeting; but it was probably of a purely professional nature. Towards the end of June 1791 the lady writes: "Mrs Schroeter presents her compliments to Mr Haydn, and informs him she is just returned to town, and will be very happy to see him whenever it is convenient to him to give her a lesson." A woman of sixty should hardly have been requiring lessons, especially after having been the wife of a professor who succeeded the "English Bach" as music-master to the Queen. But lessons sometimes cover a good deal of love-making, and that was clearly the case with Haydn and Mrs Schroeter.
Love Letters
There is indeed some reason to doubt if the lessons were continued. At any rate, by February 1792, the affair had ripened so far as to allow the lady to address the composer as "my dear," and disclose her tender solicitude for his health. On the 7th of the following month she writes that she was "extremely sorry" to part with him so suddenly the previous night. "Our conversation was particularly interesting, and I had a thousand affectionate things to say to you. My heart was and is full of tenderness for you, but no language can express half the love and affection I feel for you. You are dearer to me every day of my life."
This was pretty warm, considering that Haydn was still in the bonds of wedlock. We cannot tell how far he reciprocated the feeling, his letters, if he wrote any, not having been preserved; but it may be safely inferred that a lady who was to be "happy to see you both in the morning and the evening" did not do all the love-making. On the 4th of April the composer gets a present of soap, and is the "ever dear Haydn" of the "invariable and truly affectionate" Mistress Schroeter. He had been working too hard about this particular date (he notes that he was "bled in London" on the 17th of March), and on the 12th the "loveress," to use Marjorie Fleming's term, is "truly anxious" about her "dear love," for whom her regard is "stronger every day." An extract from the letter of April 19 may be quoted as it stands:
I was extremely sorry to hear this morning that you were indisposed. I am told you were five hours at your studies yesterday. Indeed, my dear love, I am afraid it will hurt you. Why should you, who have already produced so many wonderful and charming compositions, still fatigue yourself with such close application? I almost tremble for your health. Let me prevail on you, my much-loved Haydn, not to keep to your studies so long at one time. My dear love, if you could know how very precious your welfare is to me, I flatter myself you would endeavour to preserve it for my sake as well as your own.
Come Early
The next letter shows that Haydn had been deriving some profit from Mistress Schroeter's affections by setting her to work as an amanuensis. She has been copying out a march, and is sorry that she has not done it better. "If my Haydn would employ me oftener to write music, I hope I should improve; and I know I should delight in the occupation." Invitations to dine at St James's Street are repeatedly being sent, for Mistress Schroeter wishes "to have as much of your company as possible." When others are expected, Haydn is to come early, so that they may have some time together "before the rest of our friends come." Does the adored Schroeter go to one of her "dearest love's" concerts, she thanks him a thousand times for the entertainment. "Where your sweet compositions and your excellent performance combine," she writes, "it cannot fail of being the most charming concert; but, apart from that, the pleasure of seeing you must ever give me infinite satisfaction." As the time drew near for Haydn's departure, "every moment of your company is more and more precious to me." She begs to assure him with "heart-felt affection" that she will ever consider the acquaintance with him as one of the chief blessings of her life. Nay, she entertains for her "dearest Haydn" "the fondest and tenderest affection the human heart is capable of." And so on.
An Innocent Amourette
One feels almost brutally rude in breaking in upon the privacy of this little romance. No doubt the flirtation was inexcusable enough on certain grounds. But taking the whole circumstances into account—above all, the loveless, childless home of the composer—the biographer is disposed to see in the episode merely that human yearning after affection and sympathy which had been denied to Haydn where he had most right to expect them. He admitted that he was apt to be fascinated by pretty and amiable women, and the woman to whom he had given his name was neither pretty nor amiable. An ancient philosopher has said that a man should never marry a plain woman, since his affections would always be in danger of straying when he met a beauty. This incident in Haydn's career would seem to support the philosopher's contention. For the rest, it was probably harmless enough, for there is nothing to show that the severer codes of morality were infringed.
The biographers of Haydn have not succeeded in discovering how the Schroeter amourette ended. The letters printed by Mr Krehbiel are all confined to the year 1792, and mention is nowhere made of any of later date. When Haydn returned to London in 1794, he occupied rooms at No. 1 Bury Street, St James', and Pohl suggests that he may have owed the more pleasant quarters to his old admirer, who would naturally be anxious to have him as near her as possible. A short walk of ten minutes through St James' Park and the Mall would bring him to Buckingham Palace, and from that to Mrs Schroeter's was only a stone-throw. Whether the old affectionate relations were resumed it is impossible to say. If there were any letters of the second London visit, it is curious that Haydn should not have preserved them with the rest. There is no ground for supposing that any disagreement came between the pair: the facts point rather the other way. When Haydn finally said farewell to London, he left the scores of his six last symphonies "in the hands of a lady." Pohl thinks the lady was Mrs Schroeter, and doubtless he is right. At any rate Haydn's esteem for her, to use no stronger term, is sufficiently emphasized by his having inscribed to her the three trios numbered 1, 2 and 6 in the Breitkopf & Hartel list.