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Once upon a time there lived, in a tiny village in Austria, a wheelwright and his family. The wheelwright was poor, industrious, and G.o.d-fearing. He lived in a cottage which seemed almost too small for the large family of children. But they were so happy together that they did not mind a little crowding.
The second of the Haydn children was a boy, whom the good old village priest had christened Francis Joseph. He lived a merry life, romping with his brothers and sisters. They liked to play about the door of the shop where their father was making wheels and carriages.
[Ill.u.s.tration: FRANCIS JOSEPH HAYDN]
Better than this, they liked the Sundays, when the good father was at home all day. After dinner they were sure to have some music, and Joseph looked forward eagerly to this time. The father had a good voice, and well did he sing the native songs of his country. Although he sang well, he did not know one note of music from another.
The wheelwright's wife played the harp while her husband sang. Little Joseph used to bring his stool close beside his mother to listen as she played. Sometimes he kept the time by clapping with his chubby little hands. Sometimes he joined his sweet childish voice with his father's.
When Joseph Haydn was still very small, he was sent toddling off to school. When lessons were over and all the rest of the children scampered to their play, Joseph lingered in the schoolroom. His eyes grew round with wonder as the master played upon his violin.
"That is easy," thought the boy; "I will find two smooth pieces of wood and make myself a violin." And he did. At the next Sunday afternoon concert Joseph took his place as usual on his little stool; but he carried the violin, which he had made, in his hands. At the first notes from the harp he began to move one piece of wood across the other in perfect time with the music.
Before Joseph was quite six years old, he was able to stand up in the choir of the old village church and lead the singing. His voice was not strong, but it was true and sweet.
The father was proud of his son. He said to himself: "The boy must be taught music. Perhaps some day he will become a great musician. If I were not so poor, I should send him to a teacher."
By and by a visitor came to the Haydn home. This man was a musician and the wheelwright's cousin. It was not long before he noticed Joseph's talent for music. "Let the lad come home with me," he said to Joseph's father, "and he shall sing in my choir and be taught music properly."
The father gladly gave his consent. When the mother was asked, she was at first unwilling. "He is still so young," she said, "I fear that he will not be well cared for. I have always taught him to be neat and clean. Away from home he might fall into bad habits. I can not let him go!"
The father and cousin begged her to change her mind, telling her that the boy would learn much about music. They promised that he should be well cared for. At last she consented and with tears in her eyes made Joseph ready for his journey.
Joseph himself, six years old, was not at all sad at parting. He was very glad to go with his cousin to the great town. He said good-by to the schoolmaster and his playmates. He went once more to the little village church and knelt before the good old priest for a blessing.
Last of all he said good-by to his mother. The good woman kissed her son tenderly and bade him be obedient and faithful in his studies.
For three years the boy lived with his cousin. On Sundays and feast days he sang in the choir of the church. On week days he worked hard at his music and other studies.
The week before Easter the choir sang each day at the church. On one day there was a procession of choir boys chanting hymns. A band played while the boys sang. The drummer could not march in the procession that day, and Joseph was asked to take his place. Joseph listened carefully as his cousin taught him how the drumsticks should be handled.
Having no drum to use, he stretched a cloth over the top of a meal tub and used that for a drum. On this he practiced until he could beat the time perfectly. When he had finished he was covered with meal dust, but he felt sure that he should make no mistake in the procession. And no mistake did he make.
When Joseph had been with his cousin about a year, a visitor from Vienna took dinner with the choir master. The two men had finished their meal and were chatting together. Said the choir master, "But you should hear my Joseph sing. I brought him from the country and he is now one of my choir boys. One afternoon in his father's house I heard him singing and keeping perfect time with two pieces of wood."
"Let me hear the lad," said his friend. Quickly was the boy called from the kitchen. He came into the room and stood, shy and trembling, before the two men. When his cousin asked him to sing, Joseph forgot his fear.
Back went the little head, out came the notes, clear and true as the song of a bird.
When the song was finished, the visitor called Joseph to his side. "Can you trill for me, my boy?" "No, sir; I have never been taught; but I can try." Taking the child on his knee, the stranger showed him how to trill. Then Joseph tried and did well. His new friend was so delighted with his little pupil that he filled his hands and pockets with bright red cherries.
Now you must know that the stranger was none other than the chapel master of a great church in Vienna. He said to Joseph's cousin, "That boy sang so sweetly and learned to trill so easily that I want him in my choir." It was soon settled that the boy should go to Vienna. In a short time he became a member of the choir in St. Stephen's Church in that city.
The boy was eager to learn all that he could about music. If he heard the great organ when he was at his games with the other boys, he would leave them at once. He would tiptoe into the dimly lighted church.
Seating himself in one corner, he would not stir until the last echo of music had died away.
During all the years that Joseph Haydn was a choir boy in Vienna, he had very little money to spend. He saved every penny that came into his hands. When he was thirteen, he bought two books that he might know more of music. He spent every spare moment in study.
He learned much about music, but was never taught to compose. This did not prevent him from trying. Joseph knew that he must study harder than he had ever done.
When Joseph Haydn was about sixteen years old, his voice changed.
Because it became harsh and deep, the chapel master no longer wanted him in the choir.
One cold winter night he left St. Stephen's Church and wandered through the streets of Vienna, hungry and without a home. What would have happened to the poor boy had he not met a friend, we do not know. The kind friend was a barber, who said, "Our rooms are small and our food is simple, but you are welcome to both."
The lonely boy gladly accepted the invitation of the barber and went with him to his humble home. The room in the attic was indeed small and poorly furnished. The wind and the rain came through the cracks, and the snow sometimes sifted down upon his bed. Yet he was not altogether unhappy there.
He soon found work and was able to pay the barber for his room.
Sometimes he played the violin at a ball. He liked that because he was always given a good warm supper afterward. Again he earned a trifle by giving music lessons.
Haydn and some other young men often wandered through the streets playing. They were fond of going out on moonlight nights to serenade some musician. Haydn often composed the music which the band played.
One night they went to serenade the leader of the opera. They stood under his window with their violins. Soon the moonlit garden was filled with the sweetest music.
At a pause in the music a window was flung open and out came a nightcapped head. Loudly spoke a voice, saying, "Who is playing there?"
"Joseph Haydn."
"Who wrote the music?"
"I did, sir."
The old gentleman came down, saying, "Come with me." He led the way to a large room where a fine piano stood. He explained to young Haydn that he wanted him to compose the music for an opera which he had written. Haydn agreed to do the work, for which he was to receive a hundred and thirty pieces of money.
After this, Haydn was no longer poor. He rented a better room, but he never forgot the barber's kindness. Some years later he married the barber's daughter, Anne.
Haydn was fond of a joke. One time, as he and a friend were walking together, they pa.s.sed an inn. The sound of music came from within. "Did you not write that music, Haydn?" said his friend. "Yes," answered the composer. "Let us enter and have some fun with the players."
Once inside the inn, Haydn demanded, "Who wrote that music which you are playing?"
"Joseph Haydn," was the reply.
"Well, it is not fit to be heard," said Haydn.
That made the musicians angry. They became still more angry when they saw how the two strangers were laughing. The players could not see the joke, until, as the two friends left the rooms, one of them said, "You need not mind, for I am Joseph Haydn, myself."
THE CHAPEL MASTER
In olden times a prince often kept an orchestra in his own palace. It was necessary to have a leader for the orchestra. The leader, who trained the musicians and wrote music for them to play, was called the chapel master. In 1761 Joseph Haydn was given a fine position. He became chapel master in the household of a n.o.ble prince.
This prince lived in a magnificent palace. His friends were the kings and queens of Europe. When these royal visitors came to the palace, he entertained them with concerts and operas.
To furnish such music, the prince needed a large orchestra, and singers as well. He paid his musicians large sums of money, and treated them with great care. He required them to dress in white stockings and powdered wigs.
It was a part of Haydn's work to train all the musicians in the palace and to compose music for them. He was also expected to have a new piece of music ready for the prince each morning. The prince was a musician himself, and Haydn worked hard to please him.
For almost thirty years, Joseph Haydn lived in the palace of the prince.
During that time he wrote hundreds of pieces of music. He is best known for his symphonies and quartets. Every line that he wrote was bright and cheerful and full of sweet melody. His fame spread throughout Europe.
Visitors who came to the palace went home and spoke of the beautiful music that Joseph Haydn composed.