A Coal Seller’s Concert Hall

Thomas Britton lived in London in Handel’s time, and his story makes you wonder whether music once connected social classes more easily than it does now.

Britton earned his living as a coal dealer—“a small‑coal man,” as the English put it. Yet he adored music. Over his coal warehouse he fitted up a loft that could hold an audience, and people actually came. In the morning Britton might be hauling sacks of coal to customers; in the afternoon he could be hosting a gathering where noble lords and fashionable ladies sat side by side with working musicians.

The guest list could be astonishing. Accounts mention Handel himself, Dr. Pepusch, Charles Jennens (Handel’s librettist), Sir Roger L’Estrange, and a parade of duchesses, countesses, and “Lady‑so‑and‑so.” With Handel at the harpsichord, Bannister (the first great English violinist) on violin, and perhaps even the soprano Cuzzoni singing a fresh Handel air, it must have been an unforgettable room—especially for a coal warehouse.

Writers, philosophers, and poets also turned up, as if Britton’s loft were a little salon. Ironically, Britton died because of a prank: a ventriloquist at one gathering “warned” (as if from thin air) that Britton would die within hours unless he knelt and recited the Lord’s Prayer. Britton obeyed—then fell into such terror that he died a few days later.