a
and sometimes by wind instruments alone. Great composers occasionally
honoured their patrons and friends with the serenade; and composers who
hoped to be great found it advantageous as a means of gaining a hearing
for their works. It proved of some real service to Haydn later on, but
in the meantime it does not appear to have swelled his lean purse. With
all his industry he fell into the direst straits now and again, and was
more than once driven into wild projects by sheer stress of hunger.

Joins a Pilgrim Party

One curious story is told of a journey to Mariazell, in Styria.
This picturesquely-situated village has been for many years the most
frequented shrine in Austria. To-day it is said to be visited by
something like 100,000 pilgrims every year. The object of adoration
is the miraculous image of the Madonna and Child, twenty inches high,
carved in lime-wood, which was presented to the Mother Church of
Mariazell in 1157 by a Benedictine priest. Haydn was a devout Catholic,
and not improbably knew all about Mariazell and its Madonna. At any
rate, he joined a company of pilgrims, and on arrival presented himself
to the local choirmaster for admission, showing the official some of his
compositions, and telling of his eight years' training at St Stephen's.
The choirmaster was not impressed. "I have had enough of lazy rascals
from Vienna," said he. "Be off!" But Haydn, after coming so far, was not
to be dismissed so unceremoniously. He smuggled himself into the choir,
pleaded with the solo singer of the day to be allowed to act as his
deputy, and, when this was refused, snatched the music from the singer's
hand, and took up the solo at the right moment with such success that
"all the choir held their breath to listen." At the close of the service
the choirmaster sent for him, and, apologizing for his previous rude
behaviour, invited him to his house for the day. The invitation extended
to a week, and Haydn returned to Vienna with money enough--the result of
a subscription among the choir--to serve his immediate needs.

An Unconditional Loan

But it would have been strange if, in a musical city like Vienna, a
youth of Haydn's gifts had been allowed to starve. Slowly but surely he
made his way, and people who could help began to hear of him. The most
notable of his benefactors at this time was a worthy tradesman named
Buchholz, who made him an unconditional loan of 150 florins. An echo of
this unexpected favour is