February 24th
Born: John Picus, Count of Mirandola, 1463;
Charles V. (of Spain), 1500, Ghent: George Frederick Handel, musical composer,
1684, Halle; James Quin, actor, 1693, Covent-garden; Robert Lord Clive, conqueror
of Bengal, 1726;
Charles Lamb, humorous
essayist, 1775, London; Robert Lord Gifford, Master of the Rolls, 1779.
Died: Richard de la Pole, Francis Duke of
Lorraine, and General de la Tremouille, killed at Pavia, 1525; Francis Duke of
Guise, assassinated, 1563: James Earl of Derwentwater, beheaded, 1716: Joseph (of
Portugal), 1777; Charles Buonaparte,
1785; Hon. Henry Cavendish,
amateur chemist, 1810: John Keats, poet, 1821,
Rome; Thomas Coutts, banker, 1822: John VI (of Portugal), 1826.
Feast Day: St Matthias, the Apostle, Colchis.
Saints Montanus, Lucius, Flavian, Julian, Victoricus, Primolus, Rhenus, and
Donation, martyrs at Carthage, 259. St. Pretextatus, archbishop of Rouen, martyr,
about 585. St. Lethard, bishop of
Senlis, 596, Canterbury. St. Ethel-belt, first Christian king of England, 616.
Robert of Arbrissel, 111.
MEMORIALS OF HANDEL
George Frederick Handel, although a native of Germany
(born at Halle, in Saxony, on the 24th of February, 1684), from having
passed nearly the whole of his life in England, and produced in it all his great
works, is almost claimed by
it as an Englishman. When a child, he sacrificed his play hours, and sometimes
even his meals, to his passion for music, which was so successfully cultivated,
that, when only ten years of age, he composed a set of sonatas, not without their
value as pieces of music.
At the outset of his professional life in 1703, he had
nearly been lost to the world. It was at Hamburg that he got embroiled with
Mattheson, an able musician, who violently assaulted him. A duel ensued, and
nothing but a score, buttoned under
Handel's coat, on which his antagonist's weapon broke, saved a life that was to
prove of inestimable value. Handel was never married: the charms of his music
impressed many beauties and singers in his favour; but he showed no disposition to
avail himself of their partialities.
His thoughts were nearly all absorbed by his art, and a high sense of moral
propriety distinctly marked his conduct through life.
Handel, as a composer, was great in every style. In
sacred music, especially of the choral kind, he throws at an immeasurable distance
all who preceded and followed him.
Handel first arrived in London in
1710, and was soon honoured by the notice of Queen Anne. Aaron Hill was then manager of the opera, and
his Rinaldo was set to music by Handel, and
produced in March, 1711. At the peace of Utrecht, he composed for that event a Te
Deum and Jubilate: and a pension of �200 was the reward of this service. In 1714,
when the Elector of Hanover was placed on the British throne, Handel, not having
kept his premise to return to
Hanover, durst not present himself at court: but he got over the difficulty by a
pleasant stratagem: his friend, Baron Kilmansegge, contrived that he should meet
the Ring, during a royal excursion on the Thames, with a band of wind instruments,
playing the charming Water Music,
written for the occasion: the composer was received again into favour, his pension
was doubled; and many years after, when appointed to teach the Princesses, Queen
Caroline, consort of George IL, added another �200, making altogether �600 per
annum, no small income a century ago.
Next he became chapel-master to the Duke of Naiades,
at Canons, and there he produced most of his concertos, sonatas, lessons, and
organ fugues: besides his Aces and Galatea, for which
Gay
wrote the poetry. Then he carried out the
conversion of the Italian Theatre into an Academy of Music: he was engaged as
manager, and produced fifteen new operas: but the Italians virulently opposed 'the
German intruder:' the cabal became insupportable, and the great composer and able
manager retired with a loss of
�10,000 and broken health. He next attempted operas at Covent Garden Theatre, but
this speculation proved equally unfortunate. He next gave Lent oratorios, but with
no better success: even his sublimest work, The Messiah, was ill attended
and received in the metropolis,
when first produced in 1741. These failures were caused by the hostility of the
nobility, notwithstanding the patronage of the Royal family. He then took refuge
in Ireland, where he began by performing The Messiah for the benefit of the
city prison. He returned to London
in 1742, renewed his oratorios at Covent Garden Theatre, and henceforth was
uniformly successful: and he continued his oratorios with great profit nearly to
the last day of his life.
Handel died on a Good Friday (according to his own
wish), April 13, 1759, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Late in life he was
afflicted with blindness: but he continued to perform and even composed pieces,
and assisted at one of his oratorios
only a week before his death.
Handel will long be remembered for his munificent aid
to the Foundling Hospital in London. In 1749, he gave a performance of his own
compositions, by which the charity realized five hundred guineas, and every
subsequent year he superintended the
performance of The Messiah in the Foundling Hospital Chapel, which netted
altogether �7,000: he also presented an organ, and bequeathed to the charity a
fair copy of the score and parts of the oratorio of The Messiah.
The memory of Handel has been preserved by a series of
performances of his works under the roof which covers his dust. At a century from
his birth, in 1784, was given the first Commemoration, zealously patronized by
George III, who was so fond of
music that he was accustomed to write out the programmes of his own concerts.
Handel's 'Abbey Commemoration' was repeated annually till 1791: these performances
benefiting different metropolitan charities to the amount of �50,000. In 1834,
took place another Commemoration in the
Abbey. Festivals of Handel's music have since been given by the Sacred Harmonic
Society, and in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, upon a very grand scale.
We possess in England many memorials of the genius and
character of this excellent man. Roubiliac's first and last works in this country
were his statue of Handel, for Vauxhall Gardens, and his monumental statue of the
great composer in Poet's
Corner, Westminster Abbey. His autographs are highly treasured: in the Queen's
library are the original MISS. of nearly all Handel's works, filling eighty-two
folio volumes; and his MS. scores and letters are preserved in the boardroom of
the Foundling Hospital. Portraits of
Handel are numerous: he was painted by Thornhill, Kyte, Denner, Wolfand, Itudson,
and Grafoui. The portrait by Denner was in Handel's own possession, and is most
trustworthy, though Walpole describes Hudson's portrait as 'honest similitude;' it
is at Gopsal, the seat of Earl
Howe. The statue of Handel from Vauxhall is now in the possession of the Sacred
Harmonic Society; and a cast of Handel's features, taken after death by Roubiliae
for the Abbey statue, is carefully preserved, as are a few impressions from the
mould. A harpsichord and bookcase,
which once belonged to the great composer, are also treasured as relics. He lived
many years in the house No. 57, on the south side of Brook street, four doors from
Bond street, and here he gave rehearsals of his oratorios.
Handel was fond of society, enjoyed his pipe over a
cup of coffee, and was a lively wit in conversation. He was very fond of Mrs.
Cibber, at whose house, on Sunday evenings, he often met Quin, the comedian. One
evening Handel, having delighted the
company by playing on the harpsichord, took his leave. After he was gone, Quin was
asked by Mrs. Cibber whether he did not think Mr. Handel had a charming hand? 'A
hand, madam! you mistake, it is a foot.' 'Poh! poll! ' said she, 'has he not a
fine finger?' 'Toes, madam! 'In fact,
his hand was so fat, that the knuckles, which usually appear convex, were, like
those of a child, dieted or dimpled in: however, his touch was so smooth, that his
fingers seemed to grow to the keys. They were so curved and compact when he
played, that no motion, and scarcely the
fingers themselves, could be perceived. In performing on the organ, his command of
the instrument was amazing, as was the fullness of his harmony, and the grandeur
and dignity of his style. He wore an enormous white wig, and when things went well
at the oratorios, it had a
certain nod or vibration, which denoted his pleasure and satisfaction. Without
this signal, nice observers were certain that he was out of humour. At the close
of an air, the voice with which he used to cry out 'Chorus!' was formidable
indeed. Handel died possessed of �20,000,
which, with the exception of �10,000 to the fund for decayed musicians, he chiefly
bequeathed to his relations on the Continent.
MRS.
MIDNIGHT'S ANIMAL COMEDIANS
'The town,' as Beau Tibbs would say, was regaled, in
1753, with a new pleasure, under the appellation of Mrs. Midnight's Animal
Comedians. With incredible labour and patience, a number of dogs and monkeys had
been trained to go through certain
scenic representations, which were generally acknowledged to be a marvelously good
imitation of the doings of human actors. The performance took place in a small
theatre, which was fitted up with appropriate scenery, decorations, &c., and
was, we believe, well attended. A
representation of the stage as it appeared from the pit, is reproduced on the
preceding page from a contemporary print, in which, however, there are
compartments exhibiting other performances by the animal comedians.
Taking these compartments as evidence on the subject,
we find that there was a Monkeys' Entertainment, two of these animals being seated
in full dress at a table with wine and cake, while another of the same species
attended with a plate under his
arm. Two dogs, accoutred like soldiers, hewed their agility by jumping over a
succession of bundles of sticks. Three personated Harlequin, Pero (?), and
Columbine, the last attired in a prodigious hoop. Two monkeys, in cloaks and
cocked hats, were exercised upon the backs of a
couple of dogs. Another monkey, mounted on a dog's back, went through a series of
quasi-equestrian performances, mounting and dismounting with the greatest
propriety. There was also a grand Ballot Dance of dogs and monkeys in the formal
dresses of the period, powdered hair, &c. In
the original a 'lady' has just been brought in in a sedan. Certainly, however, the
principal performance was a Siege, of which also a copy here appears. The stage in
this instance presented the exterior of a fortified town. Monkeys manned the
walls, and fired at a multitude of
canine besiegers. The army of dogs, under their brave commanders, came forward
with unflinching courage, and, a couple of ladders being planted, they mounted the
ramparts with the greatest agility, and entered the city sword in hand,
disregarding such casualties as the fall of
two or three of the storming party into the ditch.
The simial defenders, as we may suppose, gave a
determined resistance: but all was in vain against canine courage, and soon the
flag of the assailants waved upon the battlements. When the smoke cleared away,
the besieged and besiegers were
observed in friendly union on the top of the forewall, taking off their hats to
the tune of God save the King, and humbly saluting the audience. Tradition
intimates to us that Mrs. Midnight's Animal Comedians were for a season in great
favour in London: yet, strange to say,
there is no notice of them in the Gentleman's Magazine, or any other
chronicle of the time which we have been able to consult.
FISH AND FISH
PIES IN LENT
The strictness with which our ancestors observed Lent
and fast days led to a prodigious consumption of fish by all classes: and great
quantities are entered in ancient household accounts as having been bought for
family use. In the 31st
year of the reign of Edward III., the following sums were paid from the Exchequer
for fish supplied to the royal household:
Fifty marks for five lasts (9,000) red herrings,
twelve pounds for two lasts of white herrings, six pounds for two barrels of
sturgeon, twenty-one pounds five shillings for 1300 stock-fish, thirteen shillings
and ninepence for eighty-nine congers,
and twenty marks for 320 mulwells.
The cooks had many ways of preparing the fish. Herring
pies were considered as delicacies even by royalty. The town of Yarmouth, by
ancient charter, was bound to send a hundred herrings, baked in twenty-four pies
or pasties, annually to the king:
and Eustace de Corson, Thomas de Berkedich, and Robert de Withen, in the reign of
Edward I., held thirty acres by tenure of supplying twenty-four pasties of fresh
herrings, for the king's use, on their first coming into season.
'Lampreys were the favourite dish of the mediaeval
epicures: they were always considered a great delicacy. So great was the demand
for this fish in the reign of King John, as to have induced that monarch to issue
a royal license to one Sampson, to
go to Nantes to purchase lampreys for the use of the Countess of Blois. The same
king issued a mandate to the sheriffs of Gloucester (that city being famous for
producing lampreys), forbidding them, on their first coming in, to be sold for
more than two shillings a piece. In the
reign of Edward III., they were sometimes sold for eight pence or ten pence a
piece, and they often produced a much higher price. In 1341, Walter Dastyn,
sheriff of Gloucester, received the sum of �12, 5s. 3d. for forty-four lampreys
supplied for the king's use.'
The corporation of Gloucester presented to the
sovereign every Christmas, as a token of their loyalty, a lamprey pie, which was
sometimes a costly gift, as lampreys at that season could scarcely be procured at
a guinea a piece. (See Fish, how to
choose, how to dress. Printed at Launceston.) The Severn is noted from its
lampreys, and Gloucester noted for its peculiar mode of stewing them; indeed, a
Gloucester lamprey will almost excuse the royal excess of Henry I, who died at
Rouen, of an illness brought on by eating too
freely of this choice fish, after a day spent in hunting.
In addition to these favourite dishes, the choice
'vianders' of the fourteenth century paid epicurean prices for delicious morsels
of the whale, the porpoise, the grampus, and the sea-wolf. These animals, being
then considered as fish, were held
as allowable food in Lent: it is lamentable to think how much sin they thus
occasioned among our forefathers, before they were discovered to be mammalian. The
flesh of the porpoise was cooked in various ways: a manuscript in the British
Museum contains a receipt for making
puddynge of porpoise' (Hari. MSS., No. 279): and we find it served at table as
late as the time of Henry VIII., and in the north to a later period.
February 25th
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