While little Sebastian Bach was
laboriously copying out music by pale
moonlight, because of his great love for it, another child of the same
age
was finding the greatest happiness of his life seated before an old
spinet,
standing in a lumber garret. He was trying to make music from those
half
dumb keys. No one had taught him how to play; it was innate genius that
guided his little hands to find the right harmonies and bring melody
out of
the old spinet.
The boy's name was George Frederick
Handel, and he was born in the
German town of Halle, February 23, 1685. Almost from infancy he showed
a
remarkable fondness for music. His toys must be able to produce musical
sounds or he did not care for them. The child did not inherit a love
for
music from his father, for Dr. Handel, who was a surgeon, looked on
music
with contempt, as something beneath the notice of a gentleman. He had
decided his son was to be a lawyer, and refused to allow him to attend
school for fear some one might teach him his notes. The mother was a
sweet
gentle woman, a second wife, and much younger than her husband, who
seemed
to have ruled his household with a rod of iron.
When little George was about five, a
kind friend, who knew how he
longed to
make music, had a spinet sent to him unbeknown to his father, and
placed
in a corner of the old garret. Here the child loved to come when he
could
escape notice. Often at night, when all were asleep, he would steal
away to
the garret and work at the spinet, mastering difficulties one by one.
The
strings of the instrument had been wound with cloth to deaden the
sound,
and thus made only a tiny tinkle.
After this secret practising had been
going on for some time, it was
discovered one night, when little George was enjoying his favorite
pastime.
He had been missed and the whole house went in search. Finally the
father,
holding high the lantern in his hand and followed by mother and the
rest of
the inmates, reached the garret, and there found the lost child seated
at
his beloved spinet, quite lost to the material world. There is no
record of
any angry outburst on the father's part and it is likely little George
was
left in peace.
One day when the boy was seven years
old, the father was about to start
for
the castle of the Duke of Saxe-Weissenfels, to see his son, a
stepbrother
of George, who was a valet de chambre to the Duke. Little
George
begged to go too, for he knew there was music to be heard at the
castle.
In spite of his father's refusal he made up his mind to go if he had to
run
every step of the way. So watching his chance, he started to run after
the
coach in which his father rode. The child had no idea it was a distance
of
forty miles. He strove bravely to keep pace with the horses, but the
roads
were rough and muddy. His strength beginning to fail, he called out to
the
coachman to stop. His father, hearing the boy's voice looked out of the
window. Instead of scolding the little scamp roundly, he was touched by
his woebegone appearance, had him lifted into the coach and carried on
to
Weissenfels.
George enjoyed himself hugely at the
castle. The musicians were very
kind
to him, and his delight could hardly be restrained when he was allowed
to
try the beautiful organ in the chapel. The organist stood behind him
and
arranged the stops, and the child put his fingers on the keys that made
the
big pipes speak. During his stay, George had several chances to play;
one
was on a Sunday at the close of the service. The organist lifted him
upon
the bench and bade him play. Instead of the Duke and all his people
leaving
the chapel, they stayed to listen. When the music ceased the Duke
asked:
"Who is that child? Does anybody know his name?" The organist was sent
for, and then little George was brought. The Duke patted him on the
head,
praised his playing and said he was sure to become a good musician. The
organist then remarked he had heard the father disapproved of his
musical
studies. The Duke was greatly astonished. He sent for the father and
after
speaking highly of the boy's talent, said that to place any obstacle in
the
child's way would be unworthy of the father's honorable profession.
And so it was settled that George
Frederick should devote himself to
music.
Frederick Zachau, organist of the cathedral at Halle, was the teacher
chosen to instruct the boy on the organ, harpsichord and violin. He
also taught him composition, and showed him how different countries and
composers differed in their ideas of musical style. Very soon the boy
was
composing the regular weekly service for the church, besides playing
the
organ whenever Zachau happened to be absent. At that time the boy could
not
have been more than eight years old.
After three years' hard work his teacher
told him he must seek another
master, as he could teach him nothing more. So the boy was sent to
Berlin,
to continue his studies. Two of the prominent musicians there were
Ariosti
and Buononcini; the former received the boy kindly and gave him great
encouragement; the other took a dislike to the little fellow, and tried
to
injure him. Pretending to test his musicianship, Buononcini composed a
very
difficult piece for the harpsichord and asked him to play it at sight.
This
the boy did with ease and correctness. The Elector was delighted with
the
little musician, offered him a place at Court and even promised to send
him to Italy to pursue his studies. Both offers were refused and George
returned to Halle and to his old master, who was happy to have him back
once more.
Not long after this the boy's father
passed away, and as there was but
little money left for the mother, her son decided at once that he must
support himself and not deprive her of her small income. He acted as
deputy
organist at the Cathedral and Castle of Halle, and a few years later,
when
the post was vacant, secured it at a salary of less than forty dollars
a
year and free lodging. George Frederick was now seventeen and longed
for a
broader field. Knowing that he must leave Halle to find it, he said
good-by to his mother, and in January 1703, set out for Hamburg to seek
his
fortune.
The Opera House Orchestra needed a
supplementary violin. It was a very
small post, but he took it, pretending not to be able to do anything
better. However a chance soon came his way to show what he was capable
of.
One day the conductor, who always presided at the harpsichord, was
absent,
and no one was there to take his place. Without delay George came
forward
and took his vacant seat. He conducted so ably, that he secured the
position for himself.
The young musician led a busy life in
Hamburg, filled with teaching,
study
and composition. As his fame increased he secured more pupils, and he
was
not only able to support himself, but could send some money to his
mother.
He believed in saving money whenever he could; he knew a man should not
only be self supporting, but somewhat independent, in order to produce
works of art.
Handel now turned his attention to
opera, composing "Almira, Queen of
Castile," which was produced in Hamburg early in January 1705. This
success
encouraged him to write others; indeed he was the author of forty
operas,
which are only remembered now by an occasional aria. During these
several
years of hard work he had looked forward to a journey to Italy, for
study.
He was now a composer of some note and decided it was high time to
carry
out his cherished desire.
He remained some time in Florence and
composed the opera "Rodrigo,"
which
was performed with great success. While in Venice he brought out
another
opera, "Agrippina," which had even greater success. Rome delighted him
especially and he returned for a second time in 1709. Here he composed
his first oratorio, the "Resurrection," which was produced there.
Handel
returned to Germany the following year. The Elector of Hanover was kind
to him, and offered him the post of Capellmeister, with a salary of
about
fifteen hundred dollars. He had long desired to visit England, and the
Elector gave him leave of absence. First, however, he went to Halle to
see
his mother and his old teacher. We can imagine the joy of the meeting,
and
how proud and happy both were at the success of the young musician.
After a
little time spent with his dear ones, he set out for England.
Handel came to London, preceded by the
fame of his Italian success.
Italian
opera was the vogue just then in the English capital, but it was so
badly
produced that a man of Handel's genius was needed to properly set it
before
the people. He had not been long on English soil when he produced his
opera "Rinaldo," at the Queen's Theater; it had taken him just two
weeks
to compose the opera. It had great success and ran night after night.
There
are many beautiful airs in "Rinaldo," some of which we hear to-day with
the
deepest pleasure. "Lascia ch'jo pianga" and "Cara si's sposa" are two
of
them. The Londoners had welcomed Handel with great cordiality and with
his new opera he was firmly established in their regard. With the young
musician likewise there seemed to be a sincere affection for England.
He
returned in due time to his duties in Hanover, but he felt that London
was
the field for his future activities.
It was not very long after his return to
Germany that he sought another
leave of absence to visit England, promising to return within a
"reasonable
time." London received him with open arms and many great people
showered
favors upon him. Lord Burlington invited him to his residence in
Piccadilly, which at that time consisted of green fields. The only
return
to be made for all this social and home luxury was that he should
conduct
the Earl's chamber concerts. Handel devoted his abundant leisure to
composition, at which he worked with much ardor. His fame was making
great strides, and when the Peace of Utrecht was signed and a
Thanksgiving
service was to be held in St. Paul's, he was commissioned to compose a
Te
Deum and Jubilate. To show appreciation for his work and in honor of
the
event, Queen Anne awarded Handel a life pension of a thousand dollars.
The death of the Queen, not long after,
brought the Elector of Hanover
to
England, to succeed her as George I. It was not likely that King George
would look with favor on his former Capellmeister, who had so long
deserted
his post. But an opportunity soon came to placate his Majesty. A royal
entertainment, with decorated barges on the Thames was arranged. An
orchestra was to furnish the music, and the Lord Chamberlain
commissioned
Handel to compose music for the fête. He wrote a series of
pieces, since
known as "Water Music." The king was greatly delighted with the music,
had
it repeated, and learning that Handel conducted in person, sent for
him,
forgave all and granted him another pension of a thousand dollars. He
was
also appointed teacher to the daughters of the Prince of Wales, at a
salary
of a thousand a year. With the combined sum (three thousand dollars)
which
he now received, he felt quite independent, indeed a man of means.
Not long after this Handel was appointed
Chapel master to the Duke of
Chandos, and was expected to live at the princely mansion he inhabited.
The
size and magnificence of The Cannons was the talk of the country for
miles
around. Here the composer lived and worked, played the organ in the
chapel,
composed church music for the service and wrote his first English
oratorio,
"Esther." This was performed in the Duke's chapel, and the Duke on this
occasion handed the composer five thousand dollars. Numerous
compositions
for the harpsichord belong to this period, among them the air and
variations known as "The Harmonious Blacksmith." The story goes that
Handel
was walking to Cannons through the village of Edgeware, and being
overtaken
by a heavy shower, sought shelter in the smithy. The blacksmith was
singing
at his work and his hammer kept time with his song. The composer was
struck
with the air and its accompaniment, and as soon as he reached home,
wrote
out the tune with the variations. This story has been disputed, and it
is
not known whether it is true or not.
When Handel first came to London, he had
done much to encourage the
production of opera in the Italian style. Later these productions had
to
be given up for lack of money, and the King's Theater remained closed
for a
long time. Finally a number of rich men formed a society to revive
opera
in London. The King subscribed liberally to the venture. Handel was at
once
engaged as composer and impressario. He started work on a new opera and
when that was well along, set out for Germany, going to Dresden to
select
singers. On his return he stopped at Halle, where his mother was still
living, but his old teacher had passed away.
The new opera "Radamisto" was ready
early in 1720, and produced at the
Royal Academy of Music, as the theater was now called. The success of
the
production was tremendous. But Handel, by his self-will had stirred up
envy
and jealousy, and an opposition party was formed, headed by his old
enemy
from Hamburg, Buononcini, who had come to London to try his fortunes. A
test opera was planned, of which Handel wrote the third act, Buononcini
the
second and a third musician the first. When the new work was performed,
the third act was pronounced by the judges much superior to the second.
But
Buononcini's friends would not accept defeat, and the battle between
all
parties was violent. Newspapers were full of it, and many verses were
written. Handel cared not a whit for all this tempest, but calmly went
his
way.
In 1723, his opera "Ottone" was to be
produced. The great singer
Cuzzoni
had been engaged, but the capricious lady did not arrive in England
till
the rehearsals were far advanced, which of course did not please the
composer. When she did appear she refused to sing the aria as he had
composed it. He flew into a rage, took her by the arm and threatened to
throw her out of the window unless she obeyed. The singer was so
frightened
by his anger that she sang as he directed, and made a great success of
the
aria.
Handel's industry in composing for the
Royal Academy of Music was
untiring.
For the first eight years from the beginning of the Society's work he
had
composed and produced fourteen operas. During all this time, his
enemies
never ceased their efforts to destroy him. The great expense of
operatic
production, the troubles and quarrels with singers, at last brought the
Academy to the end of its resources. At this juncture, the famous
"Beggar's Opera," by John Gay, was brought out at a rival theater. It
was a
collection of most beautiful melodies from various sources, used with
words quite unworthy of them. But the fickle public hailed the piece
with
delight, and its success was the means of bringing total failure to the
Royal Academy. Handel, however, in spite of the schemes of his enemies,
was determined to carry on the work with his own fortune. He went again
to
Italy to engage new singers, stopping at Halle to see his mother who
was
ill. She passed away the next year at the age of eighty.
Handel tried for several years to keep
Italian opera going in London,
in
spite of the lack of musical taste and the opposition of his enemies;
but
in 1737, he was forced to give up the struggle. He was deeply in debt,
his
whole fortune of ten thousand pounds had been swept away and his health
broken by anxiety. He would not give up; after a brief rest, he
returned
to London to begin the conflict anew. The effort to re-awaken the
English
public's interest in Italian opera seemed useless, and the composer at
last
gave up the struggle. He was now fifty-five, and began to think of
turning
his attention to more serious work. Handel has been called the father
of
the oratorio; he composed at least twenty-eight works in this style,
the
best known being "Samson," "Israel in Egypt," "Jephtha," "Saul," "Judas
Maccabæus" and greatest of all, the "Messiah."
The composer conceived the idea of
writing the last named work in 1741.
Towards the end of this year he was invited to visit Ireland to make
known
some of his works. On the way there he was detained at Chester for
several
days by contrary winds. He must have had the score of the "Messiah"
with
him, for he got together some choir boys to try over a few of the
choral
parts. "Can you sing at sight?" was put to each boy before he was asked
to sing. One broke down at the start. "What de devil you mean!" cried
the
impetuous composer, snatching the music from him. "Didn't you say you
could
sing at sight?"
"Yes sir, but not at first
sight."
The people of Dublin warmly welcomed
Handel, and the new oratorio, the
"Messiah," was performed at Music Hall, with choirs of both cathedrals,
and
with some concertos on the organ played by the composer. The
performance
took place, April 13, 1742. Four hundred pounds were realized, which
were
given to charity. The success was so great that a second performance
was announced. Ladies were requested to come without crinoline, thereby
providing a hundred more seats than at the first event.
The Irish people were so cordial, that
the composer remained almost a
year
among them. For it was not till March 23, 1743, that the "Messiah" was
performed in London. The King was one of the great audience who heard
it. All were so deeply impressed by the Hallelujah chorus, that with
the
opening words, "For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth," the whole
audience,
including the King, sprang to their feet, and remained standing through
the entire chorus. From that time to this it has always been the custom
to
stand during this chorus, whenever it is performed.
Once started on this line of thought,
one oratorio after another flowed
from his prolific pen, though none of them proved to be as exalted in
conception as the "Messiah." The last work of this style was "Jephtha,"
which contains the beautiful song, "Waft her, angels." While engaged in
composing this oratorio, Handel became blind, but this affliction did
not seem to lessen his power for work. He was now sixty-eight, and had
conquered and lived down most of the hostility that had been so bitter
against him. His fortunes also constantly improved, so that when he
passed
away he left twenty thousand pounds.
The great composer was a big man, both
physically and mentally. A
friend
describes his countenance as full of fire; "when he smiled it was like
the
sun bursting out of a black cloud. It was a sudden flash of
intelligence,
wit and good humor, which illumined his countenance, which I have
hardly
ever seen in any other." He could relish a joke, and had a keen sense
of
humor. Few things outside his work interested him; but he was fond of
the
theater, and liked to go to picture sales. His fiery temper often led
him
to explode at trifles. No talking among the listeners could be borne by
him
while he was conducting. He did not hesitate to visit violent abuse on
the
heads of those who ventured to speak while he was directing and not
even
the presence of royalty could restrain his anger.
Handel was always generous in assisting
those who needed aid, and he
helped
found the Society for Aiding Distressed Musicians. His last appearance
in
public, was at a performance of the "Messiah," at Covent Garden, on
April
6, 1759. His death occurred on the 14th of the same month, at the house
in Brook Street where he had lived for many years. Thus, while born in
the same year as Sebastian Bach, he outlived him by about a decade. He
was
buried in Westminster Abbey, and later a fine monument was erected to
his
memory. The most of his manuscripts came into the possession of King
George
III, and are preserved in the musical library of Buckingham Palace.
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