'_Lisson Grove a century ago._']
The first week in July found him at Oxford, at Commemoration, whither
he had gone to receive the honorary degree of Doctor of Music. Three
grand concerts were given in his honour, the principal singers and
performers having been brought from London, and on each occasion his
compositions were greeted with great applause. He appeared at the
third concert clad in his Doctor's gown, and met with an enthusiastic
reception. It was evident, however, that he was not feeling quite at
home in his new vestment, for when the students clapped their hands
and shouted he raised the gown as high as he could, exclaiming as he
did so, 'I thank you,' whereupon the applause was redoubled. Haydn
writes to a friend that he had to walk about for three whole days clad
in this guise, and he only wishes that his Vienna friends could have
seen him.
Amidst the wealth of incident which signalised his visit two little
scenes found a cherished corner in Haydn's memory. He was invited by
the Prince of Wales to visit Oatlands Park as the guest of the Duke of
York, who was spending his honeymoon there with his young bride, the
Princess of Prussia. The seventeen-year-old bride welcomed the sight
of Haydn's kindly face and the familiar sound of the German tongue,
and in one of his letters he describes how the _liebe Kleine_ sat
beside him as he played his 'Symphony,' humming the well-known airs to
herself, and urging him to go on playing until long past midnight. The
Princess also sang and played to him, whilst the Prince of Wales
played the violoncello, their attention being entirely given to
Haydn's works. It was during this visit that the portrait by Hoppner
was painted, which hangs in the gallery at Hampton Court.
The second picture, though one of a very different kind, he himself
described as having afforded him one of the greatest pleasures of his
visit. He went to St. Paul's to witness the gathering of the charity
children at their anniversary meeting, and the sight of the children's
faces and the sound of their young voices echoing through the vast
building touched him deeply, and no doubt recalled to his mind the
singing of the choristers in St. Stephen's Cathedral in bygone days.
Frau Haydn had evidently heard reports of her husband's successes, for
she troubled him with a letter at this time, in which she related how
she had found a small house and garden in the suburbs of Vienna, which
she felt would e
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