266.—ARISTOCRATIC PATRONAGE—HAYDN'S FAREWELL.
The composers of previous centuries were largely dependent on the patronage of the titled aristocracy for their support. In those times class lines and distinctions were drawn closer than to-day. The lower and middle classes were more deficient in education and culture. If a composer did not secure the good will of one or more titled patrons, his works went unperformed and he remained unknown and unappreciated.
It was fortunate that the nobility patronized art in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, for, had it been otherwise, many a masterpiece would never have seen the light of day. What the Church did for the arts in the dark ages the nobility did in later times.
To-day the artist asks protection of neither Church nor aristocracy. The greatest artists come from the common people—the middle classes—and these same classes do the most to support the artist by admiring, appreciating, and paying for his works.
In Europe painters and sculptors still depend to a great extent on the nobility for patronage, as the nobility holds the preponderance of the wealth of that continent. This will be true as long as the poorer classes are kept poor by paying to crowned heads such sums as £5,000 per day, the expense of the Czar of Russia, or £1,200 per day, the salary of the German Emperor.
But it is not so with music. The musician works for the people. The people of all classes flock to hear his music and appreciate it. It matters not whether the nobility attend. The people see that the composer gets what is due him.
In the last century things were different. Händel, Haydn, Mozart, Gluck—all engaged in a scramble for the favors royalty had to bestow. The very constitution of things made this necessary. The composers were poor. The prince was wealthy. Securing the prince's favor meant a pension, a home, an orchestra, a hearing. Without aristocratic patronage all this was lost. Be it said to the credit of good old John Sebastian Bach that he remained true to his allegiance to the Church and its music and sought no favor from king or prince. But Bach died almost a pauper, while his son flourished at court.
Even the present century has seen a patronizing monarch and a fawning musician. Wagner received uncounted favors at the hands of the mad King of Bavaria, until he almost thought himself a king, and treated his royal patron with base ingratitude.
Haydn was for many years at the head of musical matters at Prince Esterhazy's establishment. This liberal and highly educated Hungarian Prince gave him every opportunity for composition, and placed him in a comfortable position of ease and freedom from care or want.
But a period of retrenchment set in, and, as usual, it began to be felt first in musical matters. Haydn was informed that the Prince felt he must give up the orchestra which he had long maintained. We can imagine that to entirely support a body of twenty-five or thirty men required no small sum. But the cost was much less in that day than in ours.
So Haydn set about composing a symphony which was to be played before the Prince and his guests at the last appearance of the orchestra. A brilliant company had assembled. The symphony began. At first the strains were merry; but ere long they grew more sad and plaintive. A player back in the rear of the band was seen to blow out his candle, take up his instrument, and leave. Soon another did the same. This was unheard of. Had all discipline come to an end? But the plaintive strain wails on. More players leave. Finally there remains only the first violinist. His sorrowful cadences continue for a few moments; then he, too, follows his brethren.
Haydn turns to the Prince, bows his head on his breast, and lays down his baton.
This was the "Farewell Symphony."
Cried Prince Esterhazy, "What does all this mean?"
"It is our sorrowful farewell," replied the composer.
The Prince was overcome, and promised to reconsider his decision. He kept his word; and Haydn and his whole orchestra were reinstated and remained in the service of this generous and appreciative friend of art to the day of his death.