183.—A GREAT THIEF.
By all of the composers whom we call great, with one notable exception, other men's ideas have been held sacred. Genius is sufficient unto itself. No more would Mendelssohn have thought of stealing musical ideas from Beethoven than Beethoven would of appropriating them from Mozart, or Mozart from Bach. True, after a man once gives his ideas to the world they become the world's property. But they are the world's to use, not to claim as its own productions.
The great exception to this code of musical morality was one who was himself so great as to have no need of using other people's brains; yet perhaps he thought that very ability would excuse wholesale stealings on his part.
This monumental thief of musical ideas was—Händel.
Händel's originality was fertile, and his treatment of musical themes was superb; yet, rather than go to the trouble of composition, he would frequently appropriate right and left, taking a theme here, a melody there, a chorus yonder, until the question has almost become, "What really is Händel's?" To many, Händel is a musical god, a sun around which revolves the lesser orbs—all other composers. Händel's abilities have been recognized by all of his craft, and especially in England is his music most popular, and deservedly so. But still, in the light of modern research, one must continually question how much of it was originally his own. We do not speak at random in this matter. Reference to our illustrations of Händel's wholesale borrowing will prove the above statement.
Two of the best choruses in "Israel in Egypt" ("He spoke the word," and the "Hailstone") were taken almost note for note from works of Stradella. In the second part of this oratorio are portions from a magnificat by Erba, composed about 1690. A certain Te Deum by Uria furnished him with material for no less than nine numbers of the "Dettingen Te Deum," and six of the oratorio, "Saul," and his opera, "Theodora," also betrays to some degree the same source.
For his "Time and Truth," parts of an unpublished work by Graun were made to serve; and the chorus, "Hear Jacob's God," from "Samson," is the "Plorate Filiæ," from Carissimi's "Jephtha." Even the favorite "Harmonious Blacksmith" has been traced to Corelli.
Dr. Crotch once made a list of twenty-nine composers from Josquin des Pres to Hummel, who furnished the "Dear Saxon" with material which he incorporated into works "by Händel."
We might say of Händel's works as a musician once said of a certain composer's oratorio, "Well, if another flood should occur, it would be well to preserve his music as affording specimens of the works of all previous composers."
There is one thing about Händel's appropriations, however, that must not be overlooked. It was the man's very genius that enabled him to be such a thief. A lesser genius would have been found out at once, and have been hissed off the stage. But Händel's abilities transformed everything he touched, to a greater or less degree, and imparted to it a certain Händelian flavor that one can hardly mistake. His castles were frequently builded upon other men's foundations; but because of the character and treatment of the superstructure we forgive this borrowed basis. The world is richer for his work; yet there will arise the question, why, when he could have depended entirely on his own genius, he did not do so. As among the old Roman gods some lied and some stole, so among our musical gods Händel must be remembered as the thief par excellence.
We may join with Mr. Prout when he says, "The more I study Händel the less I feel sure what is Händel's and what is not. No one in all the whole range of composers has robbed in such a wholesale and unprincipled manner as this dear old boy has done; but with all his faults I love him still."