favourite residence." But Haydn's regard was less
for the place itself than for the people and the music. The fogs
brought him an uncommonly severe attack of rheumatism, which he naively
describes as "English," and obliged him to wrap up in flannel from head
to foot. The street noises proved a great distraction--almost as much as
they proved to Wagner in 1839, when the composer of "Lohengrin" had to
contend with an organ-grinder at each end of the street! He exclaimed in
particular against "the cries of the common people selling their wares."
It was very distracting, no doubt, for, as a cynic has said, one cannot
compose operas or write books or paint pictures in the midst of a row.
Haydn desired above all things quiet for his work, and so by-and-by, as
a solace for the evils which afflicted his ear, he removed himself
from Great Pulteney Street to Lisson Grove--"in the country amid lovely
scenery, where I live as if I were in a monastery."

Haydn at Court

For the present the dining and the entertaining went on. The 12th of
January found him at the "Crown and Anchor" in the Strand, where the
Anacreonatic Society expressed their respect and admiration in the usual
fashion. The 18th of the same month was the Queen's birthday, and
Haydn was invited to a Court ball in the evening. This was quite an
exceptional distinction, for he had not yet been "presented" at Court.
Probably he owed it to the Prince of Wales, afterwards George IV. The
Prince was a musical amateur, like his father and his grandfather, whose
enthusiasm for Handel it is hardly necessary to recall. He played the
'cello--"not badly for a Prince," to parody Boccherini's answer to his
royal master--and liked to take his part in glees and catches. Haydn was
charmed by his affability. "He is the handsomest man on God's earth,"
wrote the composer. "He has an extraordinary love for music, and a great
deal of feeling, but very little money." These courtesies to Haydn may
perhaps be allowed to balance the apparent incivility shown to Beethoven
and Weber, who sent compositions to the same royal amateur that were
never so much as acknowledged.

But even the attentions of princes may become irksome and unprofitable.
Haydn soon found that his health and his work were suffering from the
flood of social engagements which London poured upon him. The dinner
hour at this time was six o'clock. He complained that the hour was too
late, and made a resolve to dine at home at f