“Children brought up in musical families entertained by the sound of musical instruments so soon acquire a musical sense as in some instances to be regarded as prodigies. Mozart began to compose at the age of five; and in a paper read by Dr Burney before the Royal Society, it is affirmed that Crotch played the air of ‘Let ambition fire thy mind’ when only two years old.” Thus does that enthusiastic musical amateur, Mr William Gardner, half-a-century ago remark on the environment calculated to produce that overwhelming phenomena of modern times—the prodigy. So accustomed have modern audiences become to the appearance of child virtuosi on the concert platform that the announcement which appeared the other day, of a concert at the Alexandra Palace where the orchestra would be entirely composed of 1000 girl and boy violinists, did not create any sensation. Certainly the novelty of the prodigy has somewhat worn off, and for this reason it is not a little refreshing to look back and see him when his numbers were less numerous.
In the accompanying illustration, reproduced from an old print in the possession of Dr William Cummings, we have the dual interest of a boy under nine years of age who could play both the violoncello and flute, and affected a certain sensationalism by clothing himself in petticoats. No biography of this youthful wonder—who was apparently the first violoncello prodigy—is extant, but by the aid of newspaper advertisements it has not been difficult to trace some of this interesting little boy’s youthful career as an artist. In the first place it may be noticed that the picture is engraved by M‘Ardell, one of the most celebrated engravers of his day, after the painting of Thomas Jenkins. The latter was a Devonshire man who studied in London under Hudson, but eventually gave up painting, and went to Rome, where he set himself up as a banker and dealer in antiquities. He was not particularly prosperous in his new undertaking, however, and his misfortunes came to a climax when the French occupied Rome in 1798, and confiscated all his property. At the foot of the picture is written “Benjamin Hallet, a child not yet five years old, who, under the tuition of Mr Oswald, Performed on the Flute at Drury Lane Theatre Ano 1748, for 50 nights with extraordinary skill and applause, and the following year was able to play his part in any Concert on the Violoncello” truly a most accomplished little artist, and worthy pupil of Mr James Oswald—popular composer, flautist, and music publisher of the day.
Looking among the advertisements to be found in The General Advertiser for the year 1748-1749, we came across the following which occurs frequently in that year and confirms part of the statement on the picture:—
Drury Lane
Not acted there.
By His Majesty’s Company of Comedians. At the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane this day will be performed the last new comedy called
THE FOUNDLING
Young Belmont by Mr Garrick.
Sir Charles Raymond, Mr Barry; Faddle, Mr Wodward; Col. Raymond, Mr Havard; Sir Roger Belmont, Mr Yates; Villian, Mr Winstone; Rosetta, Mrs Pritchard, and
Fidelia by Mrs Cibber
With Entertainments, viz.
Act I. (By Desire) A piece of Music on
the flute by the child.
Again on the 23rd January in the same paper we find A New Way to pay Old Debts advertised to be performed at the same theatre, and among the items included in the entertainment section are,
Act I. A Concerto on the Flute by The Child.
Act II. A Piece of Musick by The Child.
The ‘Piece of Musick by the Child’ was evidently a youthful composition and may be the identical MS. mentioned by Musgrave in his “Obituary.” Musgrave’s entries meant a great deal to himself, but they are very puzzling to those not initiated into the secret. Thus the entry “Benjamin Hallet, MS. (Music)” without date and no indication as to where it may be found, led us to a good deal of research which proved quite fruitless.
To be associated with such shining lights as Garrick, Yates, and the charming Mrs Cibber was an excellent send-off for “the child” and he was doubtless the recipient of much petting from the men and women of birth and genius who frequented the theatre. Who little Hallet’s parents were, we have been unable to discover, the only likely clue to his father is found at the foot of Benjamin’s “benefit” programme quoted later. There it is announced that tickets may be had of Mr Hallet in Exeter Court, near Exeter Exchange, in the Strand, but what was the exact relationship between this gentleman and the prodigy is only a matter of conjecture. The London Directory for 1749, gives the name of “Crowley Hallet, Old Swan Lane, Thames Street,” and that of the year 1752 announces that “Crowley Hallet was living near Fishmongers’ Hall, Thames Street.” In the year 1754 there was a “Captain John Hallet, Royal Exchange, Assurance Director, and Ships’ Husband” living in “Love Lane, Aldermanbury.” Of these two, Crowley Hallet—whose address presupposes him to have been a tradesman—was more likely to have been Benjamin’s father, for the advertising genius of the day was a great stickler for class distinction. If a person of genteel birth appeared—by chance—on the stage or concert platform, they were invariably announced as a “gentleman,” or “gentlewoman,” or as in the following advertisement of a seventeenth-century prodigy, in The London Gazette for 26th November 1694:—“The Consort of Musick in Charles Street Covent Garden will begin again next Thursday with the addition of two new voices, one a young gentlewoman of 12 years of age.”
Had Benjamin Hallet been able to claim a “Captain” for his father, he would certainly have been accorded the distinction of being a “young gentleman not yet nine years of age.” But surmise is of little use, for Benjamin’s parents have faded into the land of oblivion and left no trace of themselves except in their talented offspring.
The next we hear of “the child,” is three years later when he is announced in The General Advertiser to appear in “The Old Woman’s Oratory, conducted by Mrs Mary Midnight.” This entertainment was one of the most humorous and up-to-date amusements of the period. It continued to exist for many years on and off, and was eventually taken up by Colley Cibber, whose drolleries gave it a further lease of life. The names of the original promoters do not appear on the playbills, but the name of “Mrs Mary Midnight” perhaps but thinly veils the half-crazy personality of Christopher Smart, the leader and prime spirit of the choicest wits of the day. Poor Smart was twice confined to Bedlam for taking the injunction, “pray without ceasing” too literally, but in spite of his evident madness on this point, he was otherwise sane, and few could surpass the neat wit and epigram that flowed so freely from his ready pen. Under the pseudonym of Mary Midnight (a name said to have been suggested to Smart by some booth at St Bartholomew’s Fair) he brought out a magazine which he called The Midwife, or the Old Woman’s Magazine by Mrs Mary Midnight. This purely satirical weekly was published by good John Newberry whose name Goldsmith epitomised in the lines: