Part 11 (1/2)

Haydn J. Cuthbert Hadden 102490K 2022-07-22

Discp. Eius Neukom Vindob. Redux. Mdcccxiv.

Desecration of Haydn's Remains

In 1820 the remains were exhumed by order of Prince Esterhazy, and re-interred with fresh funeral honours in the Pilgrimage Church of Maria-Einsiedel, near Eisenstadt, on November 7. A simple stone, with a Latin inscription, is inserted in the wall over the vault. When the coffin was opened, the startling discovery was made that the skull had been stolen. The desecration took place two days after the funeral.

It appears that one Johann Peter, intendant of the royal and imperial prisons of Vienna, conceived the grim idea of forming a collection of skulls, made, as he avowed in his will, to corroborate the theory of Dr Gall, the founder of phrenology. This functionary bribed the s.e.xton, and--in concert with Prince Esterhazy's secretary Rosenbaum, and with two Government officials named Jungermann and Ullmann--he opened Haydn's grave and removed the skull. Peter afterwards gave the most minute details of the sacrilege. He declared that he examined the head and found the b.u.mp of music fully developed, and traces in the nose of the polypus from which Haydn suffered. The skull was placed in a lined box, and when Peter got into difficulties and his collection was dispersed, the relic pa.s.sed into the possession of Rosenbaum. That worthy's conscience seems to have troubled him in the matter, for he conceived the idea of erecting a monument to the skull in his back garden! When the desecration was discovered in 1820 there was an outcry, followed by police search. Prince Esterhazy would stand no nonsense. The skull must be returned, no questions would be asked, and Peter was offered a reward if he found it. The notion then occurred to Rosenbaum of palming off another skull for Haydn's. This he actually succeeded in doing, the head of some unfortunate individual being handed to the police. Peter claimed the reward, which was very justly refused him. When Rosenbaum was dying he confessed to the deception, and gave the skull back to Peter. Peter formed the resolution of bequeathing it, by will, to the Conservatorium at Vienna; but he altered his mind before he died, and by codicil left the skull to Dr Haller, from whose keeping it ultimately found its way to the anatomical museum at Vienna. We believe it is still in the museum. Its proper place is, of course, in Haydn's grave, and a stigma will rest on Vienna until it is placed there.

[The great masters have been peculiarly unfortunate in the matter of their ”remains.” When Beethoven's grave was opened in 1863, Professor Wagner was actually allowed to cut off the ears and aural cavities of the corpse in order to investigate the cause of the dead man's deafness.

The alleged skeleton of Sebastian Bach was taken to an anatomical museum a few years ago, ”cleaned up,” and clothed with a semblance of flesh to show how Bach looked in life! Donizetti's skull was stolen before the funeral, and was afterwards sold to a pork butcher, who used it as a money-bowl. Gluck was re-buried in 1890 beside Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert, after having lain in the little suburban churchyard of Matzleinsdorf since 1787.]

A copy of Haydn's will has been printed as one of the appendices to the present volume, with notes and all necessary information about the interesting doc.u.ment. Two years before his death he had arranged that his books, music, ma.n.u.scripts and medals should become the property of the Esterhazy family. Among the relics were twenty-four canons which had hung, framed and glazed, in his bedroom. ”I am not rich enough,” he said, ”to buy good pictures, so I have provided myself with hangings of a kind that few possess.” These little compositions were the subject of an oft-quoted anecdote. His wife, in one of her peevish moods, was complaining that if he should die suddenly, there was not sufficient money in the house to bury him. ”In case such a calamity should occur,”

he replied, ”take these canons to the music-publisher. I will answer for it, that they will bring enough to pay for a decent funeral.”

CHAPTER IX. HAYDN: THE MAN

Face and Features--Portraits--Social Habits--Partial to Pretty Women--His Letters--His Humour--His Generosity--Unspoiled by Success--His Piety--His Industry--Habits of Composition--Impatient of Pedantry.

Face and Features

Something of Haydn's person and character will have already been gathered from the foregoing pages. He considered himself an ugly man, and, in Addison's words, thought that the best expedient was ”to be pleasant upon himself.” His face was deeply pitted with small-pox, and the nose, large and aquiline, was disfigured by the polypus which he had inherited from his mother. In complexion he was so dark as to have earned in some quarters the familiar nickname of ”The Moor.” His underlip was thick and hanging, his jaw ma.s.sive. ”The mouth and chin are Philistine,” wrote Lavater under his silhouette, noting, at the same time, ”something out of the common in the eyes and the nose.” The eyes were dark gray. They are described as ”beaming with benevolence,” and he used to say himself: ”Anyone can see by the look of me that I am a good-natured sort of fellow.”

In stature he was rather under the middle height, with legs disproportionately short, a defect rendered more noticeable by the style of his dress, which he refused to change with the changes of fas.h.i.+on.

Dies writes: ”His features were regular, his expression animated, yet, at the same time, temperate, gentle and attractive. His face wore a stern look when in repose, but in conversation it was smiling and cheerful. I never heard him laugh out loud. His build was substantial, but deficient in muscle.” Another of his acquaintances says that ”notwithstanding a cast of physiognomy rather morose, and a short way of expressing himself, which seemed to indicate an ill-tempered man, the character of Haydn was gay, open and humorous.” From these testimonies we get the impression of a rather unusual combination of the attractive and the repulsive, the intellectual and the vulgar. What Lavater described as the ”lofty and good” brow was partly concealed by a wig, with side curls, and a pig-tail, which he wore to the last. His dress as a private individual has not been described in detail, but the Esterhazy uniform, though frequently changing in colour and style, showed him in knee-breeches, white stockings, lace ruffles and white neckcloth. This uniform he never wore except when on actual duty.

Portraits

After his death there were many portraits in chalks, engraved, and modeled in wax. Notwithstanding his admission of the lack of personal graces, he had a sort of feminine objection to an artist making him look old. We read that, in 1800, he was ”seriously angry” with a painter who had represented him as he then appeared. ”If I was Haydn at forty,” said he, ”why should you transmit to posterity a Haydn of seventy-eight?”

Several writers mention a portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and even give details of the sittings, but he never sat to Reynolds, whose eyesight had begun to fail before Haydn's arrival in England. During his first visit to London Hoppner painted his portrait at the special request of the Prince of Wales. This portrait was engraved by Facius in 1807, and is now at Hampton Court. Engravings were also published in London by Schiavonetti and Bartolozzi from portraits by Guttenbrunn and Ott, and by Hardy from his own oil-painting. A silhouette, which hung for long at the head of his bed, was engraved for the first time for Grove's Dictionary of Music. This was said by Elssler, his old servant, to have been a striking likeness. Of the many busts, the best is that by his friend Gra.s.si, the sculptor.

[figure: Haydn's silhouette by Lavater]

Social Habits

Very little has been recorded of his social habits. Anything like excess in wine is not once mentioned; but it is easy to see from his correspondence that he enjoyed a good dinner, and was not insensible to creature comforts. Writing to Artaria from Esterhaz in 1788, he says: ”By-the-bye, I am very much obliged to you for the capital cheese you sent me, and also the sausages, for which I am your debtor, but shall not fail when an opportunity offers to return the obligation.” In a subsequent letter to Frau von Genzinger he comically laments the change from Vienna to Esterhaz: ”I lost twenty pounds in weight in three days, for the effect of my fare at Vienna disappeared on the journey. 'Alas!

alas!' thought I, when driven to eat at the restaurateurs, 'instead of capital beef, a slice of a cow fifty years old; instead of a ragout with little b.a.l.l.s of force-meat, an old sheep with yellow carrots; instead of a Bohemian pheasant, a tough grill; instead of pastry, dry apple fritters and hazelnuts, etc.! Alas! alas! would that I now had many a morsel I despised in Vienna! Here in Esterhaz no one asks me, Would you like some chocolate, with milk or without? Will you take some coffee, with or without cream? What can I offer you, my good Haydn? Will you have vanille ice or pineapple?' If I had only a piece of good Parmesan cheese, particularly in Lent, to enable me to swallow more easily the black dumplings and puffs! I gave our porter this very day a commission to send me a couple of pounds.” Even amid the social pleasures and excitements of London, where he was invited out six times a week and had ”four excellent dishes” at every dinner, he longs to be back in his native land so that he may have ”some good German soup.”

Partial to Pretty Women

We read that in Austria he ”never a.s.sociated with any but the musicians, his colleagues,” a statement which cannot be strictly true. In London he was, as we have seen, something of a ”lion,” but it is doubtful if he enjoyed the conventional diversions of the beau monde. Yet he liked the company of ladies, especially when they were personally attractive.

That he was never at a loss for a compliment may perhaps be taken as explaining his frequent conquests, for, as he frankly said himself, the pretty women ”were at any rate not tempted by my beauty.” Of children he was pa.s.sionately fond, a fact which lends additional melancholy to his own unhappy and childless home life.

His Letters

He was not highly educated, and he does not seem to have taken much interest in anything outside his own profession. This much may be gathered from his correspondence, upon which it is not necessary to comment at length. Mr Russell Lowell remarks that a letter which is not mainly about the writer loses its prime flavour. Haydn's letters are seldom ”mainly about the writer.” They help us very little in seeking to get at what Newman called ”the inside of things,” though some, notably those given at the end of this volume, embody valuable suggestions.

He habitually spoke in the broad dialect of his native place. He knew Italian well and French a little, and he had enough Latin to enable him to set the Church services. Of English he was almost entirely ignorant until he came to London in 1791, when we hear of him walking the country lanes with an English grammar in hand. There is an amusing story of a dinner at Madame Mara's, at which he was present during his first visit.

Crossdill, the violoncellist, proposed to celebrate him with ”three times three.” The suggestion was at once adopted, all the guests, with the exception of Haydn himself, standing up and cheering l.u.s.tily. Haydn heard his name repeated, but not understanding what was going on, stared at the company in blank bewilderment. When the matter was explained to him he appeared quite overcome with diffidence, putting his hands before his face and not recovering his equanimity for some minutes. [See Records of My Life, by John Taylor: London, 1832.]

His Humour