His most important compositions during his earlier years at Esterhaz were Italian operas. The Prince had engaged foreign actors, and the festival occasions at the palace, which as we know were often attended by royal personages, were made brilliant by these theatrical performances. During his thirty years stay at Esterhaz more than a dozen of these works were brought out, some of which Haydn himself esteemed. They certainly show a copious richness of detail, of harmonic beauty and of instrumental effects. “When Cherubini looked through some of my manuscripts, he always hit upon places which were deserving of attention,” said Haydn to Griesinger, and Cherubini, at that time an opera composer par excellence, might well be concerned about the superiority of Haydn’s operas. But the qualities which were conspicuous in Haydn’s instrumental music, the sure movement of the whole work and the freedom of the intellectual development, were wanting in his operas. This was Gluck’s contribution to the opera. Haydn had no part in it. He recognized himself that his operas in originality of form could scarcely equal those of Gluck in the more modern period. And yet we shall find that one of his operas was performed in London.
A criticism in the Vienna Zeitung during the year 1766 gives us another picture of his varied acquirements and of his successful activity as well as of the character of his genius. He is enumerated among the distinguished composers of the imperial city at that time under the title of “Herr Joseph Haydn, the favorite of the nation, whose gentle character is reflected in every one of his pieces. His compositions possess beauty, symmetry, clearness, and a delicate and noble simplicity, which impress themselves upon the listener even before he has become specially attentive. His quartets, trios and other works of this class are like a pure, clear strip of water, ruffled by a southern breeze, quickly agitated and rolling with waves but preserving its depth. The doubling of the melody by octaves originated with him and one can not deny its charm. In the symphony, he is robust, powerful and ingenious; in his songs, charming, captivating and tender; in his minuets, natural, merry and graceful.”
One can see that in all his leading qualities Haydn was recognized in his own time. Rigid masters, like Haydn’s predecessor in service, the Capellmeister Werner, a genuine representative of the old contrapuntal school, were freely at hand with such epithets as “fashion-hunter” and “song-scribbler.” But the acute Berlin Critic, at that time hostile to everything South German, declared Haydn’s quartet, op. 19, and the symphony, op. 18, that they displayed the most “original humor and sprightly agreeable spirit.” It is J. F. Reichardt who says this: “Never,” says he, “has there been a composer who combines so much unity and variety with so much agreeableness and popularity. It is extremely interesting to consider Haydn’s works in their successive order. His first works, twenty years ago, showed that he had an agreeable humor of his own, and yet it was rather mere pertness and extravagant mirth, without much harmonic depth. But by degrees his humor became more manly and his work more thoroughly considered, until through elevated and earnest feeling, riper study, and above all, effect, the matured, original man and trained artist were manifest.” “If we had only a Haydn and Philip Emanuel Bach, we Germans could boldly assert that we have a style of our own, and that our instrumental music is the most interesting of all,” he says in conclusion.
Haydn had also transferred to the richer string quartet and full orchestra, the sonata-form founded by Philip Emanuel Bach, the organic character of which is shown by the theory and history of music. How he developed this form in its final perfection it is not necessary to consider in detail at this time. He established, as we know, its four-part form in the Allegro, Adagio, Minuet and Finale, and by his great productivity and popularity brought this form into universal use. He was the first to give to the Minuet, which is attractive in itself, a popular, genial, and above all, a cheerful, humorous spirit. He very materially broadened, arranged and elevated the first movement of the sonata-form, gave to it more fullness and meaning through the organic development of its own motive substance, deepened the Adagio from a simple song (cavatina), to a completely satisfying tone-picture, and above all, by thematic treatment, produced in the Finale the veritable wonders of the mind and of life. That Haydn greatly heightened the effect of the symphony by giving to the various instruments their full development is apparent at once in his music, and yet it should not be forgotten that Mozart, who had studied the performances of the orchestras at Mannheim and Paris, also influenced him, above all in his operas. But the crowning result of Haydn’s work will always remain the germ of active life which he imparted to this form, and which he developed so freely that it presented a definite and finished shape. Haydn first gave the quartet and symphony that style which may be called its own.
Philip Emanuel Bach’s “Sonatas for Students and Amateurs,” always have something which may be called studied about them. They are thoughtful and considered, above all skillful and intellectual; but the free expression of feeling only appears at intervals, especially in the Adagio where Bach could depend for his effect upon the operatic aria and the feeling of the original German Lied. The great Sebastian Bach’s instrumental works are cyclopean structures, pelasgic monuments, often the elementary mountains themselves. Many a time there looks out of the stone, as it were, a visage, but it is a stony-face, like that on the Loreley or the romantic Brocken—apparition: “And the long rocky noses, how they snore, how they blow.” They are stone giant-bodies, mighty Sphynx-images, which conceal more than they tell. In the sharpest contrast with this music was the opera of that time, in which fashionable puppets affected an outward, stilted appearance of dramatic activity. Gluck first stripped off the gaudy tinsel and revealed the concealed earnestness of the reality. The instrumental music of the French and Italians suffered also from this affectation and superficiality of the theatrical music, and Scarlatti, Corelli and Couperin made the utmost effort to restore the free expression of feeling and unrestrained nature to their own place in music.
He who first revealed this “natural,” this inborn, and therefore spontaneous art, in music, speaking through its own nature and with its own voice, was our Haydn, and it was for this that Beethoven called him great and posterity has called him immortal. And, as the Italians say, that no man can paint a more beautiful head than he has himself, so, though we have seen this Haydn physically and intellectually, what matters it, if his portrait appears to us reversed in his music?
Haydn was slender but strong, and below the medium height, with legs disproportionately short, and seeming all the shorter, owing to his old-fashioned style of dress. His features were tolerably regular, his face serious and expressive, but at the same time attractive for its benignity. “Kindliness and gentle earnestness showed themselves in his person and bearing,” says Griesinger. When he was in earnest, his countenance was dignified, and in pleasant conversation he had a laughing expression, though Dies says he never heard him laugh aloud. His large aquiline nose, disfigured by a polypus, was, like the rest of his face, deeply pitted by smallpox, so that the nostrils were differently shaped. The under lip, which was strong and somewhat coarse, was very prominent. His complexion was very brown. One of his biographical sketches mentions that he was called a Moor. He considered himself ugly, and mentioned two Princes who could not endure his appearance, because he seemed deformed to them. He stuck to his wig, which has been already mentioned, in spite of all the changing modes, through two generations, even to his death, but it concealed, to the disadvantage of the general expression of his physiognomy, a large part of his broad and finely developed forehead. Lavater, looking at his silhouette, said: “I see something more than common in his nose and eyebrows. The forehead also is good. The mouth has something of the Philistine about it.”
“There was great joyousness and mirth in his character,” says Dies, and in his old age he said himself: “Life is a charming affair.” Joy in life was the fundamental characteristic of his existence and his compositions. His individual lot and his satisfaction with common things contributed to this. “Contentment is happiness,” says the philosopher. The unvarying simplicity of his life secured him the luxury of good health, and next to that, the feeling of joy in living. But in reality it is not this life-joyousness alone that is reflected in his works. Though the influence of his outward life and of his inner development were conducive to quiet reflection and earnest thought, he preferred to give a sprightly turn to conversation. We have already learned how deep were his personal attachments and gratitude. He was also very beneficent and kindly disposed. “Haydn’s humanity was exhibited to the high and low,” Dies once said, and modesty was his simple Austrian virtue. Griesinger justly attributes religion as the basis of all these qualities, which with him was the simple piety of the heart—not a mere passing impulse, but the All and the Eternal reflected in him. The result of this beautiful influence upon him was that he was never imperious or haughty, notwithstanding all the fame that was so profusely showered upon him during his life. “Honor and fame were the two powerful elements that controlled him, but I have never known an instance,” says Dies, “where they degenerated into immoderate ambition.” He regarded his talent as a blessed gift from Heaven, and no one was more ready to give new comers their just deserts. He always spoke of Gluck and Handel with the most grateful reverence, just as he did of Philip Emanuel Bach. Of his incomparably beautiful relations with Mozart we shall soon learn. Nevertheless he was not ignorant of his own worth. “I believe I have done my duty, and that the world has been benefited by my works. Let others do the same,” he used to say. He could not endure personal flattery and when it was offered would resent it. He never allowed his goodness to be abused and if it were attempted he would grow irritated and satirical.
“A harmless waggishness, or what the English call humor, was a leading trait in Haydn’s character. He delighted in discovering the comical side of things, and after spending an hour with him you could not help observing that he was full of the spirit of the Austrian national cheerfulness,” says Griesinger. We may well conceive that in his younger days he was very susceptible to love, and in his old age he always had compliments for the ladies; but we must understand his remark that “this is a part of my business,” in the same sense that Goethe’s “Elegie Amor” is “stuff for song,” and the “higher style” to the romantic poets. In fact, without some such personal inspiration, like the ever-glowing and universal fire that animates humanity, many of his pieces, especially his adagios, can not be understood. “It has a deep meaning; it is rather difficult, but full of feeling,” he once said of a sonata, to his highly esteemed friend, Frau von Genzinger, whom we shall soon meet. It is the one, according to all the indications, which the letters give, whose Adagio Cantabile is in B sharp major, 3/4, and has in the second part a grand and mystical modulation, with shifting of melody in the treble and bass by means of the crossed hands. The first Allegro is also constructed like a quiet conversation between a male and female voice. “I had so much to say to Your Grace and so much to confess, from which no one but Your Grace could absolve me,” he writes. He begs that he may call her a friend “for ever,” and the Minuet, which she had asked of him in a letter a short time before, wonderfully expresses the request.
At a later period in London, he took an English singer, Miss Billington, under his protection, whose conduct was not highly regarded and had even been severely criticised in the public press. “It is said that her character is faulty, but in spite of all this, she is a great genius, though hated by all the women because she is handsome,” he writes in his diary. The diary also contains letters from an English widow, Madame Schroter, who loved him devotedly. “She was still a beautiful and attractive woman, though over sixty, and had I been free, I should certainly have married her,” he said upon one occasion to Dies, with his peculiar roguish laugh. A single extract from these tender letters is enough for us to understand the depth of her devotion: “My dearest Haydn, I feel for you the deepest and warmest love of which the human heart is capable.” Unless it has something to feed upon, however, the hottest fire will be extinguished. He could not comprehend in his later life, how so many beautiful women had fallen in love with him. “My beauty could not have attracted them,” he said in 1805, to Dies, and when the latter replied, “you have a certain genial something in your face,” he answered: “One may see that I am on good terms with every one.” “He did not fancy that he was made of any better material, nor did he seek, through assumed purity, to place himself on any higher plane of morality than his own opinion justified,” explains Dies. He was the unaffected child of his Austrian home in a time when one seemed still to wander in Paradise and life had no thorns.