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* * * * *
[Illustration: HENRY PURCELL.
_Frontispiece._]
A
SHORT HISTORY
OF
ENGLISH MUSIC
BY
ERNEST FORD
F.R.A.M
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
M^cBRIDE, NAST & COMPANY
1912
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
PREFACE
This book is not, in any sense, technical.
It is an attempt to give a simple and rational, though in a volume of
this size, necessarily incomplete, account of events that have led to
the complex state of music existing in England at the present time.
Should it offer nothing to the musician or historian, I hope it will be
found of interest to the general reader.
The desire to make each chapter as complete, on the subject with which
it deals, as space would permit, has necessitated a certain amount of
repetition, but I trust that the object will condone the fault.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. MUSIC BEFORE AND DURING THE
REFORMATION 1
II. MUSIC BEFORE AND DURING THE
REFORMATION--(_continued_) 20
III. EARLY ENGLISH COMPOSERS 47
IV. THE DECLINE OF ENGLISH MUSIC 67
V. MUSICAL EDUCATION IN ENGLAND 93
VI. PROGRESS OF ORCHESTRAL MUSIC 125
VII. ORATORIO IN ENGLAND 150
VIII. OPERA IN ENGLAND 176
IX. DISTINGUISHED MUSICIANS IN ENGLAND
DURING THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 201
X. GENERAL SURVEY 244
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
HENRY PURCELL _Frontispiece_
PAGE
QUEEN ELIZABETH 32
CALVIN 76
G. F. HANDEL, BY HUDSON 154
SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN 228
SIR EDWARD ELGAR 246
SHORT HISTORY OF MUSIC IN ENGLAND
CHAPTER I
MUSIC BEFORE AND DURING THE REFORMATION
England at one time musical and "merrie"--England before the
Reformation--Out-door life--Natural dramatic instincts--Isolation of
country districts in early days--Performances of itinerant
minstrels--Ban of the Church--Gradual improvement--Effect of the
wars of the Roses--Early perfection of sacred music--Difficult times
after repudiation of Rome by Henry VIII.--His policy and that of
Queen Elizabeth--Edward VI. and his sisters--Popular anger against
the monks--Dissolution of monasteries natural result amongst
uneducated people--Tallis entrusted to write music for reformed
services--Orlando Gibbons and Henry Purcell--Early secular
music--Old-time music occasionally traceable now in country
districts--Ancient instruments--Effect on English music by those
returning from the Crusades--Effect on criminal population--The
status of the musical composer compared with that of the
"musician"--Conclusion.
England was musical--once upon a time.[1]
At least, if it be not too great a strain on our credulity, we must
believe so.
England was "merrie"[2]--once upon a time. At least, we read so.
It must have been long ago, and the art long lost.
* * * * *
And yet there was, undoubtedly, a time when England was both musical and
"merrie." Yes. When music and "dauncing" were as essential to the life
of the people as ranting and canting apparently became in those dismal
days after the Reformation, when the spirit of Calvinism stalked abroad,
strangling all the rational joys of life. Yes. Those were, indeed, the
merrie days of England.
The pageants and plays, which arrived at such a pitch of splendour and
magnificence in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, were but the successors of
more primitive ones whose history is lost in the long and silent past.
It is, however, quite clear that, like nearly everything else of healthy
vitality, we must look to the Church, if not for their origin, at least
for the shape and form they came to assume during the Christian era.
Throughout human history there have ever been men gifted with a dramatic
temperament who, through sheer natural instinct, not only dramatise
their own experiences when they would relate them, but dramatise with
equal avidity, any material which may come to their hands for the
entertainment of others and the relief of their own exuberant vitality.
A combination of such gifted, congenial spirits would be, not so much
probable as inevitable. Hence the bodies of strolling players, regarded
by the guardians of the law, doubtless with much excuse, as rogues and
vagabonds, who toured the country districts, and were to all appearance,
in a state of constant conflict with the "Dogberrys" of the day.
It is difficult, if not impossible, for us to realise the isolation of
small communities in medi[ae]val times, but it is not difficult to
imagine the excitement that a visit from one of these troupes would
arouse; not only on account of the amusement they would afford, but for
the news they would bring of that outside world which was, probably, at
once a source of curiosity and dread.
It must be recorded that the kind of entertainment given by these
itinerant players, was frequently of such a nature as to give a shock to
the simple countrymen it was designed to amuse.
Coming directly from the coarse amusements and excitements of London,
that included about every possible species of vicious depravity, most of
which cannot be written about, and the more innocent, including
bear-baiting, drinking contests and cock-fighting, it is not to be
wondered at that their displays caused something akin to amazement.
One result was inevitable.
The Church stepped in, banned the performances, and threatened to
exclude all who were engaged in them from her sacraments.
However, with the wonderful intuition which seems so clearly to
eliminate the purely human theory, she seized upon this elementary
instinct to purify it and dedicate it to the highest ends. From that
time through many ages the performances were given with the direct
sanction of the Church, and were not infrequently utilised on festival
occasions, in the precincts of her sacred buildings.
It must not be assumed, however, that in the early stages of the
cleansing process any very high standard could be insisted upon. Such an
attitude would have put the clergy out of touch with the primitive
people, and wholly destroyed the possibility of effecting any lasting
good.
Biblical subjects of a simple kind were chosen for portrayal, the story
of Adam and Eve being a particularly popular one, and presented with a
crude exactitude that would cause considerable astonishment to a modern
spectator.
But gradually subjects of a more elevating character were introduced,
and at last the most moving incidents in the life of Christ were
represented. Thus it is obvious that the Church had no desire to stifle
the dramatic instinct; she simply used her power and authority to direct
it to a nobler plane of thought, and help it to become a source of
healthy education, instead of a form of moral degradation. Indeed, the
most sacred and inspiring service in her liturgy, the Mass, is a
dramatisation of the fundamental truths of Christianity.
The Englishman of the Middle Ages was coarse in speech and manner, but
he was eminently susceptible to the call of art in whatsoever guise it
came, religious or secular.
The beauty of the cathedrals with their noble altars and gloriously
coloured windows and, perhaps most of all, the call of the music which
played so large a part in all the functions, would, at least, help to
combat the gross spirit of the outer world, and tend to an amelioration
of the prevailing tone of the age.
There had been, however, many companies of players who had defied the
Church's ban, and continued their performances of unbridled licence,
trusting to the general lawlessness of the times to evade the
consequences; but with the passing of the Wars of the Roses and their
attendant misery, bloodshed and abrogation of civil law, a period of
brutality, rapine, and all the consequent horrors of a fratricidal
conflict came to an end, and the power of the law, both ecclesiastic and
civil, was once more able to actively assert itself. A reign of peace
and the confirmed power of the Crown began to inspire a general sense of
security. Such wealth as the country possessed, instead of being
squandered on the machinery of war, could be spent to ensure the
blessings of peace.
Education, even the most elementary, was a boon to a man who, beside the
manual work necessary to enable him to feed himself, had hitherto learnt
nothing but the use of the pike or some such weapon of warfare.
Thus a better state of things was being inaugurated, and by the
beginning of the sixteenth century, was in full progress and the results
already apparent. The appearance in the dramatic firmament of that
immortal group of writers, of which Shakespeare was the Sun, marked the
glorious opening of a new era.
Through all these centuries the art of sacred music had been slowly, it
is true, but gradually developed, mainly by the monks, but wholly in the
service of the Church.
It had arrived at such a pitch of perfection by the middle of the
sixteenth century, that then began the short era that was afterwards to
be known as "The Golden Age of Ecclesiastical Music." It was the time of
Palestrina in Italy, and Tallis, Byrd and Orlando Gibbons in England.
The Mass for five voices, written by William Byrd about the year 1588,
is one of the most beautiful productions of that extraordinary period,
and is sufficient in itself to prove that music in England, like her
literature, could then challenge comparison with that of any country
whatever, either for beauty or originality.
It may be mentioned here that Byrd never swerved from his allegiance to
the Roman Catholic Church. It has been said that there is no proof that
Tallis changed his faith, but the fact that he was requisitioned to set
music for the new services to English words seems to me perfectly
conclusive that he did acquiesce in the new order of things.
In those troublous days there were comparatively few who dared openly to
adhere to the Catholic Church--that is to say, to the Church as it was
before Henry VIII. repudiated allegiance to the Pope--the many submitted
to the behests of the day and declared themselves definitely on the
side they thought would eventually become ascendant, always, however,
endeavouring to secure a loophole of escape in case they should find
that they had, to use the famous Marquis of Salisbury's well-known
phrase, "put their money on the wrong horse."
These words may suggest a more sinister idea than they are intended to
convey, but their significance will soon be made clear. It must be
remembered that when Henry cast off the supremacy of Rome--for reasons
it is not necessary to enter upon here--with one or two exceptions, no
repudiation of the general tenets of the Catholic Church was insisted
upon. In fact, like his wonderful daughter, Queen Elizabeth, he was
averse, with characteristic Tudor caution, to cataclysmic changes which
might once more divide his kingdom into two great opposing camps, such
as it had only recently escaped from.
On the contrary, having achieved the personal ends he had in view, he
desired nothing better than that things should calm down and proceed on
the same lines, as nearly as possible, as they had before, without the
masses of the people recognising or understanding the true import of
what had taken place. Had he been succeeded by Elizabeth, this policy
might have been successful, and many a disastrous page of history would
probably never have had to be written.
His dominating personality sufficed to avert any open rebellion to his
will, but on his death the succession to the throne of a sickly boy,
whose fanatical spirit had been fired by still more fanatical advisers,
was the signal for an outburst of Puritanical frenzy.
Dominated as the young King, Edward VI., was by hatred of his elder
sister and deep distrust of her actions when she should be called to the
throne (an event which he knew full well to be a matter of only a few
years), he lost no time in doing whatever lay in him to further the
cause of Protestantism, and render it impossible for her to obliterate
and make nugatory the work he had so much at heart. Edicts were issued
ordering the clergy to abstain from priestly functions which hitherto
had not been inhibited, and everything possible was done to instil into
the minds of the common people a distrust of them that centuries of
devotion to their interests were unable to dispel.
A possible explanation of the success of these tactics may be found in
the undoubted distress among the peasantry at this time.
With the suppression of the monasteries came the resultant loss of the
succour they had for so long been accustomed to rely on at the hands of
the monks, in case of illness or other trouble. To them they had looked
to supply, when in need, the necessities of life, and so, on the sudden
cessation of these benefits they, in their ignorance, visited their
astonished anger not on those who were the cause of it, but on the
victims who were no longer in a position to continue their benevolent
offices.
During this reign the services of the Church were in a constant state of
change and confusion, and no cause suffered more than the cause of
music.
Its use in the new liturgy was sparingly permitted, and the little that
was tolerated soon lapsed into desuetude in the great majority of
churches.
To Tallis was entrusted the writing of such music as was to be allowed,
and all musicians owe him a debt of gratitude for the beauty of his
work, which remains to-day, as the highest type of Church music, of
which he has often been called the father, so far as relates to that of
England.
Of Byrd we have written.
With Orlando Gibbons we come to the third of that great trio of Church
composers whose work may be termed the Apotheosis of Catholic music, so
far as England is concerned. Although when Gibbons began to compose, the
Latin language had been superseded by English in the Church liturgy, his
music retains absolutely all the essential characteristics of the
ancient Ecclesiastical style, and is as pure from outside influence as
that of Byrd himself, who doubtless lent him aid and encouragement,
being as he was, a comparatively young man when the latter died in a
green old age.
Gibbons was a copious writer, and his works are one of the greatest
treasures of English sacred music.
With him the glorious school of Catholic music may be said to have
become extinct in England.
Henry Purcell, the last and greatest of the old school of English
musicians, was born in 1658. At the time of his birth the Reformation
had long been an accomplished fact, and the country had accepted it,
perhaps not entirely realising in all its bearings, the full extent of
the consequences. Orlando Gibbons had only been dead about thirty years,
so, happily for music, sufficient time had not elapsed to allow of the
entire suppression of the ancient spirit of Catholic music.
Hence Purcell, whose early training came from those who were born and
nurtured in its atmosphere, was fully equipped, on arriving at manhood,
to deal with the position as he found it: that is to say, a firmly
established body of foreign musicians basking in the favours, and
enjoying the protection of a largely foreign Court.
With the assimilative power of genius, he was quick to seize upon
anything he thought politic. But whatever he borrowed he soon turned
into gold. He was a veritable alchemist.
It is only necessary to say here that for many centuries he has been
universally accepted as the greatest of all English musicians, and that
he was the last of that original school of English music whose origin
goes back to the dark ages, and can only be sought for in the solitude
and seclusion of the cells of ancient and long forgotten monasteries.
* * * * *
We must now retrace our steps and endeavour to follow, as far as scanty
records allow, the progress of secular music along those bygone ages.
Something at least is known of the ancient music of the East, and the
probability is that Greek music, from which that of the Latin Church
descends, is but the offspring of the far older art of Egypt.
The question, however, is one for the antiquarian. It may with safety be
affirmed that such music as existed among the people of England at the
time of the Norman Conquest was not only considerably affected by that
event, but still more, probably, by the Crusades not long after.
The music of the French Troubadours shews undoubted Eastern influences,
and it does not require any great effort of imagination to realise, to
some extent at least, the result of the constant influx of returned
soldiers and camp followers after years of travel and residence in the
East, not only on the music, but the morals of a comparatively primitive
people.
So far as music is concerned, it is natural to assume that whatever was
brought from the East, whether in the shape of novel rhythms and melodic
features, or strange (probably percussion) instruments, was speedily
absorbed by or brought into the service of, the native musician, and
doubtless proved an incentive to renewed creation.
English music would appear to have an ancestry as complex as that of the
people themselves.
The earliest specimens go to confirm this, for whereas some of them are
extremely bucolic and uncouth, others are refined and even sensuous in
character. Alternating in grave and gay, the music suggests diverse
origin. Musical notation, as we know it to-day, is a comparatively
modern invention. It is the result of centuries of research and
experiment. It is doubtful if the music that Gurth, the swineherd of
Cedric the Saxon, may have hummed to himself in his long and solitary
vigils could indeed be expressed in it. The scales then in popular use
were different in essential respects from ours, and that there are even
yet vestiges of the old peasant music still remaining I feel persuaded.
For instance, many years ago in an outlying district of Sussex I heard
an old man singing a folk song to a roomful of approving companions.
I listened with the interest of curiosity, but beyond the fact that it
seemed to be in a minor key I gained little.
Of the language I failed to understand one word. One thing, however,
struck me, and this was that even in the final cadence there was no
leading note[3], and that the style of note-succession reminded me of
Scotch music.
As nearly as I could approximate it, the key suggested G minor, and the
final notes sounded like the following:--
[Illustration]
This, of course, may have been the idiosyncracy of the singer, but each
verse, as I heard it, was consistent one with the other.
Doubtless such an authority as Mr. Cecil Sharp would be able to give an
explanation of so interesting an experience.
It should be borne in mind that music, for long ages, was transmitted
from one individual to another through the ear alone. The invention of a
musical notation, even of the most primitive kind, being comparatively
recent. The art of reading from it, in the Middle Ages, was practically
restricted to the monks, whose creation it was.
Even to this day musical sight-reading is only mastered by comparatively
few of a large population.
On this important point, the majority of the people of England are
certainly not musical.
We shall later on deal with the earliest known examples of English vocal
and instrumental music. For the moment we will consider the means at the
disposal of the music-minded in medi[ae]val days.
To the human voice we need not refer, since it is little susceptible of
change from age to age.
Musical instruments were few in number and of a crude order in general.
The bagpipe, hornpipe and others of a similar kind, together with
stringed instruments in the earliest stage of development, being in most
general use.
The viols, lute, virginals, recorders, and many others, belong to a much
later period. The violin, as we know it, only arrived at perfection in
the seventeenth century, when Stradivarius, Amati and Guanarius were
making their marvellous instruments. But that they had instruments and
even used them in combination is shewn by the following lines from
Chaucer:--
"Cornemuse and shalmyes,
And many a maner pipe,"
and again,
"Both ye Dowced and ye Rede."
"Cornemuse" is generally accepted to mean a hornpipe.
"Shalmyes"[4] was probably a reed instrument of the character of an
oboe.
With regard to "ye Dowced" and "ye Rede," numerous controversies have
failed to establish any definite conviction.
The poet, however, in another line mentions an instrument, of which
there is no doubt possible:--
"A baggepipe coude wel he blowe and soune."
It is natural to suppose that progress in the art of making instruments
would correspond to that in the art of music itself, and the
ever-increasing intercourse with the Continent since the Conquest would
bring knowledge of many before unknown; both France and Italy being far
in advance of England in this respect.
References to them in Shakespeare's works are numerous.
To cite only a few.
In the first part of "Henry IV.":--
"_Falstaff_: S'blood! I am as melancholy as a gibcat or a lugged
bear.
"_Prince Henry_: Or an old lion; or a lover's _lute_.
"_Falstaff_: Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire _bagpipe_."
In "Hamlet":--
"_Hamlet_: ... Will you play upon this _pipe_?
"_Guildenstern_: My lord, I cannot.
"_Guildenstern_: I know no touch of it, my lord.
"_Hamlet_: 'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your
fingers and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will
discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops."
We will content ourselves with one more quotation. It consists of some
lines of incomparable beauty from the sonnets:--
"How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st,
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks, that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand."
By the time of Queen Elizabeth the number and variety of instruments had
greatly increased as the following lines by the poet, Michael Drayton,
shew. It may be mentioned in explanation of the words, "the viol best in
setts," that it was customary in those days to enclose in one case a set
of these instruments, treble, tenor and bass, the last-named being
probably the viol da gamba, the predecessor of the modern violoncello.
"The English that repined to be delayed so long,
All quickly at the hint, as with one free consent,
Strook up at once and sang each to the instrument;
(Of Sundry sorts there were, as the musician likes)
On which the practiced hand with perfect'st fingering strikes,
Whereby their right of skill might liveliest be expressed.
The trembling lute some touch, some strain the violl best,
In setts which there were seene, the music wondrous choice,
Some likewise there affect the Gamba with the voice,
To shew that England could varietie afforde
Some that delight to touch the sterner wyerie chord,
The Cithron, the Pandore, and the Theorbo strike;
The Gittern and the Kit the wandering fidlers like.
So there were some againe, in this their learned strife,
Loud instruments that loved, the Cornet and the Phife,
The Hoboy, Sagbut deepe, Recorder and the Flute,
Even from the shrillest Shawn unto the Cornemute,
Some blow the Bagpie up, that plaies the country 'round,
The Tabor and the Pipe, some take delight to sound."
As some of the above-mentioned instruments are probably unknown to the
majority of readers, I will select for explanation a few that seem least
likely to be familiar:--
_Cithron_--An instrument with wire strings, like
a German zither.
_Pandore_--A variety of the foregoing.
_Theorbo_--A large double-necked instrument of
the lute family. It somewhat resembles,
on a larger scale, the modern mandoline.
_Gittern_--Resembles the guitar. Chaucer refers
to it more than once.
_Kit_--Diminutive violin.
_Sagbut_--Akin to the slide trombone.
_Recorder_--A wind instrument of the clarinet
family.
_Tabor_--A small drum. In olden times used as
an accompaniment to the pipe.
We have alluded to the possible effect on music of the return of numbers
of men from the wars of the Crusades. We pass now to the probable effect
on the morals of the people, with special reference to the musicians of
the period. One of the first results would be to swell the numbers of
itinerant musicians and players who were already a source of trouble not
only to the custodians of the law, but to the average law-abiding
citizen.
It is not to be supposed that the restless spirit of these wanderers
through Europe and the East, with all the concomitant experiences, would
permit them to again settle down to the life of quietude and practical
isolation of the tiller of the soil, from which, no doubt, many of them
had sprung.
No, the roving life of the itinerant "minstrel" or the riotous life of
the city roysterer would be more likely to attract them.
Certain it is, from the diseases they acquired in the East and
disseminated in Europe, one may justifiably argue that their presence
was not likely to raise the moral tone of any company they might be
pleased to join.
To whatever cause it may be assigned, it has to be admitted that
musicians in those days had a most unenviable reputation, and were
looked upon with the greatest contempt.
One qualification of this statement may be made, as there is little
doubt that a great distinction was made between the _composer_ and the
"musician."
Every rogue and vagabond who scoured the country giving crude and
generally offensive performances styled himself musician, so the public,
having no greater genius for fine discrimination then than now, came to
regard all persons who were engaged in the performance of music, if not
with active aversion, at any rate with passive contempt.
It is in these early times that the foundation of the feeling was laid,
only to be strengthened later on when Puritanism came with fanatic
intensity to still further deepen it. How engrained in the spirit of the
people this sentiment became is evident, even to this day.
That the _composer_ of music was regarded in a different light, we shall
be able to prove.
He obtained degrees at the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, where
he proceeded to the high position of Professor of the University in the
Chair of Music.
Leases of Crown lands were made to him, with grants of armorial bearings
in some cases; indeed, there are evidences of many kinds to show that
his calling was held in high esteem. With the "musicians," as they were
called, or "minstrels," as they called themselves, things went from bad
to worse. Doubtless reinforced again by cast-off camp-followers from the
armies of the Wars of the Roses, they became, by the reign of Queen
Elizabeth, not only a source of terror to the countryside, but a
nuisance and a pest to the towns. Gosson writes, about 1580: "London is
so full of unprofitable pipers and fiddlers that a man can no sooner
enter a tavern, than two or three cast of them hang at his heels, to
give him a dance before he depart."[5]
In 1597 a law was passed in which they were classed as "rogues,
vagabonds, and sturdy beggars," and were threatened with severe
penalties.
The War of the Rebellion probably brought them still another accession
to their ranks, as, so far from being harmed by this threat, things must
have got even worse, to judge by the following edict issued by Cromwell
only a few years later:--
"Any persons commonly called fidlers or minstrels who shall at any time
be taken playing, fidling, and making music in any inn, ale-house, or
tavern, or shall be taken proffering themselves, or desiring, or
intreating any to hear them play or make music in any of the places
aforesaid, shall be adjudged and declared to be rogues, vagabonds, and
sturdy beggars."
It may be at once assumed that if they were able to evade the hands of
Elizabeth, they were little likely to escape those of Cromwell, who may
be said to have, at last, cleared the country of what had become a
positive menace to the security of life, since under the guise of
wandering minstrels, highwaymen and other criminals had long been wont
to carry on their occupations with comparative immunity.
The age of Queen Elizabeth was one of transition, the Commonwealth
marked the birth of the new era, and with it the final disappearance of
the picturesque, even if somewhat depraved, English troubadour.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] A country that has taken its music at the hands of the foreigner for
three centuries can scarcely be called musical.
[2] In its original meaning, the term implied a cheerful and righteously
joyful sense of living. Its popular significance after three centuries
of Puritanism, rather inclines to alcoholic elation.
[3] The leading note is a semi-tone lower than the keynote, and is
essential to the modern scales, both major and minor.
[4] More familiarly known as shawn.
[5] "Short Apologies of the School of Abuse," London.