1787

 

 

Mar 10

[first performance: March 10.]

 

[Mrs. Pinup is kept busy all night by the activities of her fashionable Lady.]

Mrs. Pinup.  I declare, upon my honour, I am as tired as—as—

Lapelle.  A hackney coach horse, on a rainy Sunday.

Mrs. Pinup.  Yes—sand as drowsy as—

Lapelle.  An alderman at an oratorio—[1]

 

 

 

Apr 17

[Anna Seward to Miss Weston, 17 April 1787.]

 

[…] It is certain that those languages, which are rendered harsh by being composed of a great number of consonants, are yet better adapted to musical expression than a dialect could be which [286] was wholly composed of vowels. […]

            Variety is the soul of pleasure in nature, and in all the arts.  Prospects without hills; pictures without a due proportion of shadow; music without discords, and a language without consonants, must have inevitable monotony, and prove insupportably wearing to those who have been accustomed to the great effects produced by contrast in prospects, in pictures, in music, and in language.

            That influence upon the passions, which history boasts of having been produced, in former ages, by the simple melodies of which only they were possessed, was naturally, I think, accounted for in one of my late letters to you.  Upon two people, whose taste for music was by nature perhaps equally keen, if one of them has been in the constant custom of hearing the best music, and the other has had but seldom opportunity of listening even to the most moderate, probably the [287] simplest air, of perhaps but indifferent merit, would have more effect upon the passions of the novice, than the sublimest air of Pergolezzi’s or Handel’s, upon the feelings of him whose ear had been habituated to their admirable compositions.

            Every adept in the science of music knows, that it is impossible for melody alone to have produced musical effects, that could, in excellence, bear any comparison with those which she has displayed since her association, in later ages, with the mightier powers of harmony.

            The English language may have too many consonants; yet who, that listens to Milton’s poetry, finely read, or to Johnson’s best prose, or to Handel’s oratorio airs, sung with expression, will pronounce it inharmonious?

            In the amoroso style, we have beautiful music from Italy; more voluptuous certainly, but not more tender, more touching, more sweet, than the pathetic songs of Handel.  That truth is now pretty universally felt and acknowledged; while none dispute the immense superiority of that great master in the more energetic harmonies.  Thus it is proved, that our language, though less soft than the Italian, is yet sufficiently liquid for the most melting purposes of melody and harmony.[2]

 

 

 

May 27

[Anna Seward to Miss Scott, 27 May 1787.]

 

            You plead Cowper’s constitutional melancholy in excuse for his misanthropy.  That plea is often made for Johnson also; but if it is possible that melancholy can so narrow the mind, as to render a man of genius, like Mr Cowper, the avowed satirical foe of national gratitude, and of honour to the manes of such beings as Shakespeare and Handel, if then becomes a vice, against which every generous reader will bear the most renouncing testimony.[3]

 

 

 

Jun 2

SATURDAY 2 JUNE [1787].  Dr. Adams of Pembroke College and his daughter were now in town.  He had called on me and I had called on him and seen him.  This forenoon my wife and daughters and I called [139] on Miss Adams.  We heard the music in Westminster Abbey pretty well on the outside of the rails.  I took them into Westminster Hall and showed them it….[4]

 

 

 

Jun 10

[Eliza Mee to Anne Viney, 10 June 1787]

 

I flatter myself, I may now congratulate you on the return of Mrs. Bull, who I hope is well.  Did she go to the Abbey?  I hear the music there went off [440] extremely well, and your favorite [sic] composer was never in higher estimation.  People come to the commemoration, not only from various places in the country, but many likewise from the Continent; there was, I have heard fourteen thousand pound taken for tickets.  It is supposed the town was never so full before, hardly a lodging to be procured.  Their Majesties took up their residence at Kew during the time of the performances, and as you know Mrs. Delany’s royal friends do not like to live a day without seeing her, they brought her up with them.[5]

 

 

 

Jun 14

[Harriet Joan Granville to Anne Viney, 14 June 1787]

 

Mrs. Delany did not go to the meeting at the Abbey this year; but she lent me her house in St. James’s Place, and Miss Port and I went the second day, which was the Messiah, and indeed it fully answered every grand idea I had formed of it.[6]

 

 

 

[June]

What made that illness [of the Prince of Wales] the more remarkable, was the indecency [?] behaviour of the King, who though just reconciled, did not go once to see his son, nor let the Queen, though when at St James’s within the length of a single street.  He even passed by the Prince’s house when he went to the House of Lords to put an end to the session, and twice to the Abbey to Handel’s jubilee with the Queen;[7]

 

 

 

The Progress of Music: an Ode, occasioned by the grand Celebrations at the Abbey.  4to.  1s. 6d.  Kearsley.

A chronological account of the most eminent musicians, from David to Handel; who

‘ Taught the chorus how to swell,

  Taught vocal energy to rise,

To pierce the roofs where seraphs dwell,

  And waft devotion round the skies.’ [71]

These lines are not unpoetical, but we meet with few of equal merit.[8]

 

 

 

Aug 1

ODE TO BACCHUS.

 

The Music partly selected from PURCELL, HANDEL, ARNE, &c.

[…]

[Advertisement: “On the 1st of August, 1787, between the hours of two and three in the morning, the following irregular Ode, Hymn or Orgie was performed with all due solemnity at the MARINE PAVILION, on the Steine, at Brighthelmstone.” 1:180.][9]

 

 

 

Aug 11, 13

[Mary Delany to Frances Hamilton, 11 August 1787]

 

[...] when the royal family return [451] from the terrace, the King, or one of the Princesses (generally the youngest, Princess Amelia, just four years old), come into the room, take me by the hand, and lead me into the drawing-room, where there is a chair ready for me by the Queen’s left hand: the three eldest Princesses sit round the table, and the ladies in waiting, Lay Charlotte Finch and Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave.  A vacant chair is left for the King, whenever he pleases to sit down in it.  Every one is employed with their pencil, needle, or knotting.  Between the pieces of music the conversation is easy and pleasant; and, for an hour before the conclusion of the whole, the King plays at backgammon with one of his equerries, and I am generally dismissed.

[...]

[13 August]

I went to the Lodge, [...] I had not been there a quarter of an hour before the King walked into the room, took me by the hand, and saying: ‘Come along, Mrs. Delany,’ led me into the Queen’s apartment, and placed me in the chair allotted for me, next to Her Majesty (which, however, I am indebted to my deafness for), where I spent two hours, not knowing which gave me most delight, the [452] harmony of the music, or that of the amiable society.  The two Princes were there.  Yesterday was the Prince of Wales’s birthday, and being Sunday, the entertainment that was to be given was put off till Monday.  The entertainment at the [Windsor] Castle yesterday was very superb.  There were above a hundred people, Ministers of State and foreigners, invited to come to the Castle.  At seven o’clock, and after the drawing-room was over and all compliments paid and received on the day, the company were conducted into the music-room, where there was a very fine concert, chiefly of Mr. Handel’s music, most exquisitely performed.  When that was over, which was about twelve o’clock, there was a supper prepared in St. George’s Hall, which for magnificence exceeded every thing that has been done before.  The company were not all dispersed till 2 o’clock, and are invited again to the same entertainment on Thursday, which is the Duke of York’s birthday.  The younger part of the company are in hopes of a ball.[10]

 

 

 

Sep 2

[J. Mainwaring to Doddsley]

 

Shelton, 2nd. Sepr. 1787.

 

Sir,

 

As it is many Years since an Account was

settled between us for the Memoirs of the Life

of Handel, I think it is now time we should

have a 2nd. & final Settling. You will please

therefore at your first leisure to get the Account

made out, & to inform my Friend, Dr. Drake,

the Bearer of this, when it will be ready. For

he will be so obliging as to call upon you, &

settle the affair for me. Whatever balance

may be due to me, I desire you will pay it

to him, & his Receept [sic] shall be your Discharge.

I am,

Sir,

Your obedt. humble. Servt.

J. Mainwaring[11]

 

 

 

September

Henry Burgum, the pewterer, whose vanity and ignorance during prosperity were so artfully duped by Chatterton, suffered from painful reverses of fortune in the decline of life.  In 1786, when he had lost the use of his limbs from gout, he was lodged as an insolvent debtor in a London prison, but was rescued by the subscriptions of sympathising friends.  Having returned to Bristol, he arranged for a performance of the oratorio of “Judas Maccabaeus” in September 1787, from which he netted a handsome profit.  The ticket of admission to this performance (price five shillings) was beautifully engraved by Bartolozzi, and is now a great rarity.[12]

 

 

 

[Henry Burgum (1739-1789) self-made and art-lover, attacked by Chatterton.  In 1767 he was president of the “Grateful Society” club in Bristol.  He was also Deputy Governor and Treasurer of the Corporation of the Poor]

[…] he knew what was good in music; […] he worshipped Handel.  [It is said that] he once bought a library in which were two chests containing concert sets of music for about twenty instruments with partitions for each volume; one of the sets [it is thought] was the Messiah [...] Now […] is still to be seen a portrait […] of Burgum in a flowered waistcoat and blue coat standing with his right hand on a red-bound volume lettered “Messiah.” / His faith in Handel wafted him over his troubles. [147]

[in the mean time he got bankrupt.]  In 1768 Burgum lost the use of his limbs through gout, and was lodged as an insolvent debtor in a London prison; rescued by his friends, he returned to Bristol and arranged for a performance of Judas Maccabaeus (Sept. 1787) for which Bartolozzi executed the ticket of admission (5s.): the receipts just put him on his feet.  In April, 1788, The Messiah was performed for Burgum’s benefit, and on June 5, 1789 […] he died, aged fifty, suddenly at his home […] [149–50]

[…] It is odd that [Chatterton] never alludes specifically to his [Burgum’s] love of music, though himself a devotee of Handel. [151][13]

 

 

 

Oct 10

[Anna Seward to F. N. C. Mundy, 10 October 1787.]

 

            Your other dogmatist, who declared that nothing was so easy as to write well in rhyme, like the fox contemplating the high-hung grapes, speaks lightly, but not sincerely, of a treasure which he finds himself unable to obtain.  The use of rhymes must necessarily increase the difficulty of writing in measure; and when it is remembered that the great critic, Cicero, tried, in vain, to write good poetry, we find the asserted ease of the art presumptuous and ridiculous, because evidently false.  Merely to jingle common-place ideas in rhyme, may be easy enough; but to make fine sense, animated and appropriate description, and beautiful imagery, recline gracefully on that Procrustean bed, is about as easy as to compose music like Handel and Hedyen [?Haydn], and to paint like Reynolds, Romney, and Fuzeli.[14]

 

 

 

Just as the Maggot bites, I take my Way—

To Painters now my Court respectful pay;

Now (ever welcome!) on the Muse’s Wings,

Drop in at Windsor, on the best of KINGS;

Now, at St. James’s, about HANDEL prate,

Hear Odes, see Lords and ’Squires, and smile at State.

[title-page motto]

 

SANDWICH, the glory of each jovial meeting,

This fidler now---now that, so kindly greeting,

  Appear’d, and shrewdly pour’d his hahs and hums:

Great in tattoo, my Lord, and cross-hand roll;

Great in the Dead-march-stroke sublime of SAUL,

  He beats Old ASSBRIDGE * on the kettle drums. [32]

What pity, to our military host,

That such a charming drummer should be lost! [31–32]

[...]

Dear maid! the daughter of that PRINCE of PRATTS,

  Who music cons as well as law; and swears

  The girl shall scrub no soul’s but Handel’s airs,

To whom he thinks our great composers, cats:

 

  Id est, SACCHINI, HAYDEN, BACH, and GLUCK,

  And twenty more, who never had the luck

To please the nice ears of some crown’d FOLK:

  Ears that, like other people’s, tho’ they grow,

  Poor creatures! really want the sense to know

Psalm tunes so mournful from the old Black Joke. [38]

[...]

Yet Mrs. WALSINGHAM the ode attended;

From Squire Apollo lineally descended—

A dame who dances, paints, and plays, and sings:

The Saint Cecilia—Queen of wind and strings!

Tho’ scarcely bigger than a cat---a dame

Midst the Bas bleus, a giant as to Fame. [42]

When fiddle, hautboy, clarinet, bassoon,

  On Sunday (deem’d by us good Christians, odd,)

Unite their clang, and pour their merry tune

  In jiggish gratitude to GOD;

Lo! if a witless Member should desire,

  Instead of Handel, strains perchance of Hayden,

A fierce SEMIRAMIS she flames with ire---

  This Amazonian, crotchet-loving maiden!

  She looks at him with such a pair of eyes!

Reader, by way of simile-digression,

  Which to my subject happily applies---

Did’st ever see GRIMALKIN in a passion,

  Lifting her back and ears, and tail and hair,

Giving her two expressive goglers,

(Not in the sweet and tender stile of oglers)

  A fierce, broad, wild, fix’d, furious, threat’ning stare?

 

  If so---thou mayst some faint idea have

Of this great Lady at her tuneful club---

  Who very often hath been heard to rave,

And with much eloquence the Members snub. [43]

Some people by their souls will swear,

That if Musicians miss but half a bar,

  Just like an Irishman she starts to bother---

And in the violence of quaver madness,

Where nought should reign but harmony and gladness,

  She knocks one tuneful head against another;

Then screams in such chromatic tones

Upon Apollo’s poor affrighted sons,

Whose trembling tongues when her’s begins to sound

Are in the din vociferating, drown’d!

 

  Thus when the Oxford bell, baptiz’d GREAT TOM,

  Shakes all the city with his iron tongue,

The little tinklers might as well be dumb

  As ask attention to their puby song,

So much the Lillyputians are o’ercome

  By the deep thunder of the MIGHTY TOM.

 

HANDEL, as fam’d for manners as a pig,

Enrag’d, upon a time pull’d off his wig,

And flung it plump in poor CUZZONI’s face,

Because the little Syren miss’d a grace: [44]

Musicians, therefore, should beware;

  Or in the face of some unlucky chap,

Altho’ she cannot fling a load of hair,

  She probably may dart her cap.

 

Oft when a youth to some sweet blushing maid

  Hath slily whisper’d amatory things,

And more by passion than by music sway’d,

  Broke on the tuneful dialogue of strings;

Rous’d like a tygress from a fav’rite feast,

  Up hath the valiant Gentlewoman sprung,

  With light’ning look, and thund’ring tongue,

Ready with out-stretch’d neck to eat the beast

  That boldly dar’d,---so blasphemously rash,

  Mix with the air divine his lovesick trash.

 

Reader, attend her---she will so enrich ye

  With music knowledges of every kind,

From that poor nothing-monger, old QUILLICI,

  To Handel’s lofty and capacious mind: [45]

Run wild divisions on the various merit

Of this and that composer’s spirit---

  On GLUCK’s sublimities be all so chatty—

Talk of the serio-comic of PICCINI,

Compare the elegance of sweet SACCHINI,

  And iron melodies of old SCARLATTI!

 

  But not one word on British worth, I ween—

  Their very mention gives the dame the spleen:

’Twere e’en disgrace to tell their mawkish names:

  Mere cart-horses—poor uninventive fools,

  Who neither music make, not know its rules---

Whose works should only come to light in flames,

 

To depths of music doth this dame pretend,

Nought can her science well transcend,---

  If you the Lady’s own opinion ask;

And when she talks of musical enditers,

She shows a vast acquaintance with all writers,

  And takes them critically all to task. [46]

Dear Gentle-woman! who, so great, so chaste,

So foreign in her tweedle-dummish taste,

Faints at the name of that enchanting fellow,

The melting Amoroso Paisiello!

  With notes on Tarchi, Sarti, will o’erwhelm ye,

Giordani, sweeter than the Hybla honey:

Anfossi, Cimeroso, Bach, Bertoni,

  Rauzzini, Abel, Pleyel, Guglielmi!

Can tell you, that th’ Italian school is airy,

Expressive, elegant, light as a fairy;

The German heavy, deep, scholastic;

  The French most miserably whining, moaning

Oft like poor devils in the colic groaning,

  Noisy and screaming, hideous, hudibrastic.

 

The female visitors around her gaze,

With wond’ring eyes, and mouths of wide amaze,

To hear her pompously demand the key

Of ev’ry piece musicians play. [47]

Astonish’d see this Petticoat-Apollo,

  With stamping foot, and beck’ning hands

  And head, time-nodding, issue high commands,

Beating the Tot’n’am-road Director * hollow.

 

  Yes---they behold amaz’d, this tuneful whale,

And catch each crotchet of her rich discourse,

Utter’d with classic elegance and force,

  On Diatonic and Chromatic scale:

Then stare to see the Lady wisely pore

On scientific zig-zag score.

 

Reader, at this great Lady’s Sunday meeting,

Midst tuning instruments each other greeting,

  Screaming as if they had not met for years,

So joyous, and so great their clatter!---say

Didst ever see this Lady striking A

  Upon her harpsichord, with bending ears?

With open mouth, and stare profound,

  Attention-nail’d, and head awry,

Till Alamire unison goes round,

  Watching each atom of the tuneful cry? [48]

 

Didst ever see her hands outstretch’d like wings,

  Towards the band, tho’ led by CRAMER,

Wide swimming for pianos on the strings---

  Now sudden rais’d, like Mr. Christie’s hammer,

To bid the forte * roar in sudden thunder,

And fill the gaping multitude with wonder?

Thou never didst?---then, friend, without a hum,

I envy thee a happiness to come! [41–48]

[...]

The modern poet sings, quoth Tom again,

  Of M----chs, who, with oeconomic fury,

Force all the tuneful world to TOT’N’AM Lane,

  And lock up all the doors of harmless DRURY . [50]

 

Say, why this curse on DRURY’s harmless door,

  That thus, in anger, M-----y should lock it?

MUSE, are the Tot’n’am-street subscribers poor?

  Will Drury keep some pence from Tot’n’am’s pocket?

Doth threat’ning bankruptcy extend a gloom

O’er the proud walls of Totn’am’s regal room?

 

Perchance ’tis MARA’s song that gives offence!

  Hinc illae Lacrymae!---I fear:

The song that once could charm the R---l sense,

  Delights, alas! no more the Royal ear.

Gods! can a guinea deaden ev’ry note,

And make the nightingale’s a raven’s throat?

 

  But let me give his M-----y a hint,

  Fresh from my brain’s prolific mint---

Suppose we Amateurs should, in a fury,

  Just take it in our John-Bull heads to say

  (And lo! ‘tis very probable we may)---

“We will have Oratorios at Drury?” [51]

How must he look?---Blank---wonderfully blank;

And think such speech an insult on his rank:

What could he do?---oppose with ire so hot?

I think his M-----y had better not!*

 

Pity a King should with his subjects squabble

  About an Oratorio, or a play:

It puts him on a footing with the rabble,

  And that’s unkingly, let me say.

 

Suppose he comes off conqueror?---alas!

  For such a victory he ought to sigh---

But, Lord! suppose it so should come to pass,

  That Majesty comes off with a black eye?

Whether he lose or win the day,

The world will christen it a paltry fray. [52]

Kings should be never in the wrong*---

  They never are, some wiseacres declare.---

Poh! such a speech may do for birth-day song;

  But makes us philosophic people stare! [49–52][15]

 

 

 

In music I prefer expression to execution.  The simple melody of some artless airs has often soothed my mind, when it has been harassed by care; and I have been raised from the very depths of sorrow, by the sublime harmony of some of Handel’s compositions.  I have been lifted above this little scene of grief and care, and mused on Him, from whom all bounty flows.[16]

 

 

 

[Giordano Riccati to Giovenale Sacchi]

 

Mi espone lo stimatissimo P. D. Giovenale ad un’assai difficile impresa, comandandomi di mettere al paragone i Duetti del Bononcini con quelli dell’Händel, e di arrischiare la mia opinione piuttosto a favor dell’uno che dell’altro. L’eccellenza dei Duetti di ambi gli Autori, e la diversa maniera, con cui sono scritti, mi rendono vie più dubbioso, e tengono il mio rispettoso giudizio in sospeso. Ho presa dunque deliberazione di notare i pregi, ed anche qualche difetto d’essi Duetti, e lasciar poscia a V. R. la decisione, che avendo illustrata la Musica colle moltiplici, dotte, ed eleganti sue Opere, è veramente giudice competente.

[…]

L’Handel conduce eccellentemente le sue musiche composizioni, e facendo uso di poche cose ben intrecciate, e trasportandole a Tuoni subordinati al principale, serve congiuntamente all’unità, ed alla varietà. Ristringendomi a parlar dei Duetti, fa egli entrare una Parte con un motivo adattato al sentimento delle parole, e mentre l’altra Parte replica il motivo alla Quinta, o alla Quarta, o all’Unisono, canta la prima Parte un nuovo motivo confacente anch’esso al sensetto, che pronuncia, e col maneggio di questi due motivi, ed opportunamente ancora dei loro membri, perviene al fine del versetto con molto piacer dell’orecchio.

[…]

Notati i pregi, ed anche qualche neo nei Duetti dell’Händel, passo a fare lo stesso in quelli del Bononcini. Forma questo bravo scrittore i suoi Duetti con Versetti ad una, e a due voci, e con Recitativi. Sono questi assai buoni; ma l’Arie a voce sola, quantunque scritte con ottimo Contrappunto, e con melodie a quel tempo aggradevoli, riescono presentemente di gusto antico. Mi ristrignerò dunque soltanto a trattare dei Versetti a due voci, composti frequentemente a soggetto colla sua risposta, o imitazione, e spesso ancora con contrassoggetto.[17]

 

 

 

[Joseph Fowke to his daughter, Calcutta, {?1787}]

 

I feel a great Miss of Handel Overtures in 4 parts which I could not avoid returning to Messink for his amusement in the Voyage [the journey by boat back to England].  The more I study this great Author the more I am smitten with his superior excellencies.  There is no end to the fertility of his imagination and his judgment keeps pace with it.  He is sublime whenever he chuses to be so, and is never trifling.  In short he seems to have the whole world of harmony at his command, with an exact knowledge of the powers of every instrument which he never introduces but with Effect.  What a pity he is so seldom executed with any tolerable degree of correctness?  In his own lifetime he was continually mortified by the want of steadiness & firmness in the performers, who were even then prone to run riot in the time.

 

 

 

[Joseph Fowke to his daughter, Calcutta, late 1780s]

 

Take notice that in Handel’s C time Allegro the Crotchet may be nearly valued by the beat of an old Man’s pulse....I have a perfect remembrance of Handel’s manner, whose greatest beauty in these movements was a very even finger; so that in the subdivisions the semiquavers were precisely of the same value.[18]

 

 



[1] Thomas Holcroft, Seduction (London: G. G. J. and J. Robinson, 1787), 2.

[2] Letters of Anna Seward: written between the Years 1784 and 1807, 6 vols. (Edinburgh: A. Constable, 1811), 1:285–87.

[3] Letters of Anna Seward: written between the Years 1784 and 1807, 6 vols. (Edinburgh: A. Constable, 1811), 1:297.

[4] James Boswell, Boswell: The English Experiment: 1785–1789, edited by Irma S. Lustig and Frederick A. Pottle (New York et al.: McGraw-Hill, 1986), 138–39.

[5] The Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs. Delany, edited by Lady Llanover, second series, 3 vols. (London: Richard Bentley, 1862), 3:439–40.

[6] The Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs. Delany, edited by Lady Llanover, second series, 3 vols. (London: Richard Bentley, 1862), 3:441.

[7] Horace Walpole, “Journals of George III,” p. 164; MSS, Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University.

[8] The Critical Review 64 (July–December 1787): 70–71.

[9] Anthony Pasquin [=John Williams], Poems, 2 vols (London: J. Strahan, [1789]), 1:181.

[10] The Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs. Delany, edited by Lady Llanover, second series, 3 vols. (London: Richard Bentley, 1862), 3:450–52.

[11] Foundling Museum, Gerald Coke Handel Collection, accession no. 2425.

[12] John Latimer, The Annals of Bristol in the Eighteenth Century (Bristol: the author, 1893; reprinted, Bath: Kingsmead Reprints, 1970), 480.

[13] E. H. W. Meyerstein, A Life of Thomas Chatterton (London: Ingpen and Grant, 1930).

[14] Letters of Anna Seward: written between the Years 1784 and 1807, 6 vols. (Edinburgh: A. Constable, 1811), 1: 342.

* A kettle-drummer of great celebrity.

* Joah Bate, Esq.

* Motions established by the Cognoscenti for showing the light and shadow of Music.

The Oratorios were to have been performed at Drury Lane, this year, under the conduct of Mr. LINLEY and Dr. ARNOLD.—MADAM MARA was to have exhibited her amazing powers.  This would have been a death-stroke to the pigmy performance in Tottenham-court Road.  How should the pigmy be saved?  By killing the Giant:—and lo! his death-warrant hath been signed.—By what power of the constitution?  None!—Can the Grand Monarque do more?  Quicquid delirant Reges, plectuntur Achivi.

* Indeed His M----y hath prudently taken the hint.—DRURY, in spite of the Royal frown, hath had her Oratorios performed, to the no small mortification of poor deserted TOTTENHAM.

* Yet let us give an instance of wrong proceedings.—A certain K---- and Q----, instead of having concerts at their palace, in the style of other Princes, such as the King of France, the Emperor, the Empress of Russia, &c. have entered into a private subscription for a concert in a pitiful street.—They pay their six guineas a-piece; and, what is more extraordinary, get in their children, as we are told, gratis! What is still more extraordinary, they have entered into a bond for borrowing two thousand pounds for putting the house into a decent repair; fit for the reception of the K---- of the first empire upon earth.  Of whom has this money been borrowed?—Marvelling reader! of the poor Musicians’ fund!—which money might have been placed out at a much superior advantage.  Let me add, that the subscribers order a formal rehearsal previous to every concert; so that, in fact, they get a double concert for their money;—undoubtedly to the vast satisfaction of the singers of the happy CRAMER, BORGHI, SHIELD, CERVETTO, &c. who, in this instance, earn their money not very unlikely the patient and laborious animal called a drayhorse.]

[15] Peter Pindar [=John Wolcot], Ode upon Ode; or, a Peep at St. James’s; or, New-Year’ Day; or, What you will (London: G. Kearsley and W. Forster, 1787).

[16] Mary Wollstonecraft, Thoughts on the Education of Daughters: With Reflections on Female Conduct, In The most important Duties of Life (London: J. Johnson, 1787), 43.

[17] Continuazione del Nuovo Giornale de’ Letterati d’Italia (Modena, 1787): Alvise de Piero, “Della maniera di perfezionare la musica: Due lettere di Giordano Riccati a Giovenale Sacchi sui duetti da camera di Handel e di Bononcini,” in Giordano Riccati: Illuminista Veneto ed Europeo, ed. Davide Bonsi (Firenze: Olschki, 2012), 181–93: 181, 185, 186.

[18] Christopher Hogwood, Handel (London: Thames and Hudson, 1984), 243.