HISTORICAL NOTE

The original opera house at Eszterháza really did burn down in 1779, destroying many priceless Haydn scores, but as far as I know, no alchemy was involved. And that’s pretty much how this book goes, historically; I took lots of real historical figures and issues and then worked alchemy around them.

Prince Nikolaus was, of course, a real person; so was his wife, who fought exactly the battle described in this novel to win her freedom and independence, once Prince Nikolaus started living with a public mistress at Eszterháza. In the end, the Princess won the same concessions in real life that she did in my book, although I assume she used different methods along the way. Her two closest companions at Eszterháza were Asa and Monsieur Jean in real life, too, although the historical record only notes their short statures and their names, leaving me to imagine their personalities for myself.

Prince Nikolaus’s real-life mistress was an even more enigmatic historical figure. She was only referred to in code in Haydn’s letters, which described her prominence at court but left even her name a mystery. I’ve taken that mystery as an opportunity to create her personality out of thin air and to give her a sister of my own inventing. Charlotte is entirely fictional, as is Carlo.

Count Radamowsky is also invented, although I was inspired in his creation by reading about some of the exploits of the real-life Count von Thun. Ignaz von Born was a real and fascinating person, an alchemist, a Freemason, and a political intriguer, and his death in my book—years before his death in real life—represents my one really huge leap from the historical record.

If you’d like to find out more about Eszterháza itself in the time of this book, Mátyás Horányi’s The Magnificence of Eszterháza is definitely the best place to start, and it’s available in both the US and UK in affordable secondhand editions. H. C. Robbins Landon’s Haydn: His Life and Work is a great introduction to Haydn himself and his working life at Eszterháza, and for a more in-depth approach, check out Robbins Landon’s Haydn at Eszterháza, 1766–90, which was a major resource for me as I wrote this book.

There are several great books about the castrati singers of the eighteenth century, including Patricia Howard’s The Modern Castrato: Gaetano Guadagni and the Coming of a New Operatic Age, Helen Berry’s The Castrato and His Wife, and Patrick Barbier’s The World of the Castrati: The History of an Extraordinary Operatic Phenomenon. I wouldn’t personally recommend the movie Farinelli, but I would recommend its soundtrack. Not only is the music gorgeous, but the way that the voice of the singer was mixed gives us the closest hint we can get nowadays to what a castrato at the height of his powers might have sounded like.