It was his last great experience “in the vast city of London,” and to Haydn’s inner nature it gave in brief all that he had given and all that was due to him. It was the first time he had seen a vast multitude of human beings in a great and eagerly listening throng, and it expanded his own nature, which had been restricted, to the widest bounds, without in any way modifying its power. He had experienced the full measure of English humor, manifesting itself in those relations of personal affection which the “beautiful and gracious” Mrs. Schroter had expressed for him and his “sweet” compositions—an affection which she herself regarded as “one of the greatest blessings of her life,” and which had bound her to him in an indissoluble attachment. “My heart was, and still is, full of tenderness for you, yet words can not express half the love and affection which I feel for you. You are dearer to me every day of my life,” she says at another time. That it was the deep principle and character of his life which had aroused such a passionate affection in the already aged lady, these words confess: “Truly, dearest, no tongue can express the gratitude which I feel for the unbounded delight your music has given me.” The fact that this loving esteem was meant for Haydn himself, makes it all the more beautiful.
Such were the satisfying and grateful feelings which filled his soul at the moment of parting. Outwardly and inwardly blessed, he returned to Vienna in July, 1792, and not two years later, he was again on the Thames.
CHAPTER IV.
THE EMPEROR’S HYMN—THE CREATION AND THE SEASONS.
1793-1809.
Criticism at Home—His Relations to Beethoven—Jealousy of the Great Mogul—His Second London Journey—The Military Symphony—His Longings for Home—Great Popularity in England—Reception by the Royal Family—His Gifts—Return to Vienna—Origin of the Emperor’s Hymn—The Creation and the Seasons—Personal Characteristics—His Death—Haydn’s place in Music.
On his journey back, in July, 1792, Haydn again visited Bonn. The court musicians gave him a breakfast at the suburb of Godesburg, and Beethoven laid before him a cantata, probably the one written on the death of Leopold II, to which the master gave special attention and “encouraged its author to assiduous study.” The arrangements were unquestionably made at that time, by which the young composer afterward became Haydn’s scholar, “for Beethoven even then had surprised every one with his remarkable piano playing.”
Since the death of Gluck and Mozart, Haydn had been recognized in Vienna, and indeed in all Germany, as the first master. In the spring of 1792 the Musikalische Correspondenz declared that his services were so universally recognized, and the influence of his numerous works was so effective, that his style appeared to be the sole aim of composers, and they approached more closely to perfection the nearer they approached him. The fame he had won in England was no longer doubted or disputed. Every account spoke of him in a manner that betrayed a feeling of national pride, says Dies, and all the more was this the case after he had brought out his six new symphonies in the Burg Theater, on the 22nd and 23rd of December, to which very naturally, eager attention was given in Vienna. His success was of great advantage to that same Tonkunstler Societat which had once treated him so shabbily. He was elected a member, exempt from dues, but it was never necessary to make any claim upon him.
The “country of wealth” had so materially improved his fortune that he bought a little house in a “retired, quiet place” in the suburb of Gumpendorf, which his wife, with the utmost naivete, had picked out for herself, when she should become a widow, but which became his own resting-place in his old age. He added a story to it afterward and lived there until his death, surviving his wife about nine years.
Composition and instruction still remained his regular quiet work. The lessons at this time, in the case of one scholar at least, were pretty troublesome. “Haydn has announced that he shall give up large works to him, and must soon cease composing,” one writes from Bonn, at the beginning of 1793, referring to Beethoven. It was a characteristic of the old master that he advised the young scholar, three of whose trios (op. 1) had been played before him and about which he had said many complimentary things, not to publish the third, in C minor. He feared that the rest of the music, in contrast with such “storm and stress,” would appear tame and spiritless, and that it would rather hurt than help him in the estimation of the public. This made a bad impression upon the easily suspicious Beethoven. He believed Haydn was envious and jealous and meant no good to him. Thus it appears, that from the very beginning all confidence in the instruction was destroyed, and, besides this, it had little prospect of success, since the still more revolutionary youth had gone far beyond his fame-crowned senior in his innovations. Still he remained until the end of the year 1793, and the greater youth never forgot what he owed the great master. “Coffee for Haydn and myself,” and other observations of a like character in Beethoven’s diary, show, that besides the matter of instruction there was a personal friendly intercourse between them. Ostensibly it discontinued when Haydn’s second journey offered a fitting pretext, but, as a matter of fact, he was at that time a scholar of Schenk, who is mentioned in Mozart’s biography. He had very often complained to other musicians that he did not get on well with his studies, since Haydn was occupied altogether too much with his work and could not devote the requisite attention to him. Schenk, who had already heard Beethoven extemporize at one of his associates’, the abbe Gelinek, met him one day, as he was returning from Haydn, with his music under his arm, glanced it over and found that several errors remained uncorrected. This decided Beethoven’s change and choice.