We once had a glorious school of composers
It departed, with no sunset splendour on it, nor even
the comfortable ripe tints of autumn The sun
of the young morning shone on its close; the dews of
dawn gleam for ever on the last music; the freshness
and purity of the air of early morning linger about
it It closed with Purcell, and it is no hyperbole
to say the note that distinguishes Purcell’s
music from all other music in the world is the note
of spring freshness The dewy sweetness of the
morning air is in it, and the fragrance of spring
flowers The brown sheets on which the notes
are printed have lain amongst the dust for a couple
of centuries; they are musty and mildewed Set
the sheets on a piano and play: the music starts
to life in full youthful vigour, as music from the
soul of a young god should It cannot and never
will grow old; the everlasting life is in it that
makes the green buds shoot To realise the immortal
youth of Purcell’s music, let us make a comparison
Consider Mozart, divine Mozart Mixed with the
ineffable beauty of his music there is sadness, apart
and different from the sadness that was of the man’s
own soul It is the sadness that clings to forlorn
things of an order that is dead and past: it
tinkles in the harpsichord figurations and cadences;
it makes one think of lavender scent and of the days
when our great-grandmothers danced minuets Purcell’s
music, too, is sad at times, but the human note reaches
us blended with the gaiety of robust health and the
clean young life that is renewed each year with the
lengthening days.
The beauty of sanity, strength, and
joyousness-this pervades all he wrote
It was modern when he wrote; it is modern to-day; it
will be modern to-morrow and a hundred years hence
In it the old modes of his mighty predecessors Byrde
and Tallis are left an eternity behind; they belong
to a forgotten order Of the crabbedness of Harry
Lawes there is scarcely a trace: that belonged
to an era of experiments The strongest and most
original of his immediate predecessors, Pelham Humphries,
influenced him chiefly by showing him the possibility
of throwing off the shackles of the dead and done
with The contrapuntal formulas and prosaic melodic
contours, to be used so magnificently by Handel, were
never allowed to harden and fossilise in Purcell’s
music Even where a phrase threatens us with
the dry and commonplace, he gives it a miraculous
twist, or adds a touch of harmony that transforms it
from a dead into a living thing, from something prosaic
into something poetic, rare and enchanting Let
me instance at once how he could do this in the smallest
things This is ordinary enough; it might be a
bit of eighteenth-century counterpoint:
But play it with the second part:
The magic of the simple thirds, marked
with asterisks, is pure Purcell And it is pure
magic: there is no explaining the effect
He got into his music the inner essence that makes
the external beauty of the picturesque England he
knew That essence was in him; he made it his
own and gave it to us He did not use much of
the folk-songs born of our fields and waters, woods
and mountains, and the hearts of our forefathers who
lived free and did not dream of smoky cities and stinking
slums; though folk-song shaped and modified his melodies
In himself he had the spirit of Nature, and it made
his music come forth as it makes the flowers blow
The very spirit of the earth seemed to find its voice
through him, the spirit of storm and the spirit of
fair weather that sports when sweet rains make a musical
clatter among the leaves The music in which
he found a voice for Nature cannot grow old while
the earth renews its youth with each returning spring
In its pathos and in its joy the soul of seventeenth-century
England is in his music in perennial health.
This is not a fanciful description:
it is the plainest, most matter-of-fact description
Purcell’s music has the same effect on the mind
as a crowd of young leaves shooting from a branch in
spring; it has a quality of what I risk calling green
picturesqueness, sweet and pure, and fresh and vigorous
It is music that has grown and was not made
That Purcell knew perfectly well what he was doing
we realise easily when we turn to the music he set
to particular words Take The Tempest
music, and turn to the song “Arise, ye subterranean
winds.” See how the accompaniment surges
up in imperious, impetuous strength Turn to “See,
the heavens smile”: note how the resonant
swinging chords and that lovely figure playing on
the top give one an instant vision of vast, translucent
sea-depths and the ripples lapping above Look
at “Come unto these yellow sands” and
“Full fathom five”: he almost gives
us the colour of the sea and the shore These
things did not come by accident, nor do they exist
only in an enthusiastic fancy They were meant;
they are there; and only the deaf and the stupid,
or those over-steeped in the later classical music,
can help feeling them.
Purcell, then, was the last of the
English musicians So fair and sweet a morning
saw the end that many good folk have regarded the end
as the beginning, as only the promise of an opulent
summer day How glorious the day might have been
had Purcell lived, no one can say; but he died, and
no great genius has arisen since As for the cathedral
organists who followed him chronologically, the less
said about them the better What kind of composers
they were we can with sorrow see in the music they
wrote; what skill as executants they possessed we may
judge from the music they played and the beggarly
organs they played on We read of our “great
Church musicians”-but these men were
not musicians; and of the rich stores of Church music-but,
however vast its quantity, it is not, properly speaking,
music The great English musicians who wrote for
the Church before Purcell’s time were Tallis,
Byrde, Whyte, Orlando Gibbons, and they composed not
for the English, but for the Roman Church When
I say that Pelham Humphries and Purcell were not religious
at all, but purely secular composers, thoroughly pagan
in spirit, I imply-or, if you like, exply-that
the Church of England has had no religious musicians
worth mentioning Far be it from me to doubt the
honest piety of the men who grubbed through life in
dusty organ-lofts Their intentions may have
been of the noblest, and they may have had, for all
I or anyone can know, sincere religious feeling
But they got no feeling whatever into their intolerably
dreary anthems and services; and as for their intentions,
the cathedrals of England might be paved with them.
Tallis has often been called “the
father of English Church music.” If his
ghost ever wanders into our cathedral libraries, let
us hope he is proud of his progeny He, like
his contemporaries, was a Catholic, and he dissembled
About his birth it has only been conjectured that he
was born in the earlier part of the sixteenth century
He was organist of Waltham Abbey in 1540, and remained
there till the dissolution of the monasteries, when
he became a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal He
and Byrde in 1575 got a patent giving them a monopoly
of the printing of music and of music paper, and they
printed their own works, which it is a good thing
publishers abstain from doing nowadays In 1585
he died He was a fine master of polyphony, and
as a genuine composer is second only to Byrde
William Byrde, however, stands high above him and all
other composers of the time He was born about
1538, and died in 1623 His later life would
have been full of trouble, and the noose or the flames
at the stake might have terminated it, if powerful
patrons had not sheltered him The Nonconformist
conscience was developing its passion for interfering
in other people’s private concerns Byrde,
to worship as he thought fit, and to avoid the consequences
of doing it, had often to lie in hiding But
he got safely through, and composed a large quantity
of splendid Church music, besides some quite unimportant
secular music His masses have a character of
their own, and in his motets one finds not only
a high degree of technical skill, power and sheer beauty,
but also a positive white heat of passion curiously
kept from breaking out There were many others
of smaller or greater importance, and the school of
English religious composers, properly so called-the
men who wrote true devotional music-ended
with Orlando Gibbons in 1625 Since then we have
had no religious musicians The Catholic Church
brought them forth, and when that Church suffered
eclipse we got no more of them.
Not that music was at all eclipsed
The last great English musician was not born till
more than a hundred years after the Reformation
Between Gibbons and Purcell came, amongst others,
John Jenkins, Henry Lawes, Matthew Locke, Pelham Humphries,
Dr. Blow, Captain Cooke and the madrigal writers
These last, however, mainly used contrivances adapted
from sacred music Some really beautiful madrigals
exist, but Purcell could have done almost if not quite
as well without them During this period the
old style of polyphonic music went out and the new
came in To understand the change, I beg the
reader to refrain from impatience under the infliction
of a few technicalities; they are a regrettable but
inexorable necessity.
The old polyphonic music differed
from the newer harmonic music in three respects:
1. Form and Structure.-Nearly
all the important old music, the music that counts,
was for voices-for chorus-with
or without accompaniment “Forms,”
in the modern sense of the word-cyclical
forms with recurring themes arranged in regular sequence,
and with development passages, etc.-of
these there were none Some composers were groping
blindly after a something they wanted, but they did
not hit on it Self-sustaining musical structures,
independent of words, were poor and flimsy The
form of the music that matters was determined by the
words From beginning to end of each composition
voice followed voice, one singing, higher or lower,
what had been sung by the others, while those others
added melodies that made correct harmony Thus
a web of music was spun which has to be listened to,
so to speak, horizontally and vertically-horizontally
for the melodies that are sung simultaneously, and
vertically for the chords that are produced by the
sounding together of the notes of those melodies
When the words were used up the composition came to
an end Often the words were repeated, and repeated
often; but there should be reason in all things, and
the finest composers stopped when they had finished.
The tendency in the new music was
to abandon the horizontal aspect Purcell, in
his additions to Playford’s “Brief Introduction
to the Skill of Musick,” remarks on the fact
that musicians now composed “to the treble,
when they make counterpoint or basses to tunes or songs.”
Music became, broadly speaking, tunes with an accompaniment
The fugue was no contradiction of this Even
in its heyday, though the parts were ever so independent
of one another, the mass of tone forms a great melody,
or melos, moving on a firm harmonic foundation
in the lowest part The great choral fugues
of Bach and Handel have often in the accompaniment
a bass moving independently of the bass voice part,
and this instrumental bass was figured so that the
harmonies could be filled in, on the organ.
2. Melody.-There
was fine melody enough in the old music, but its rhythm
was very subtle, and there was no suggestion of catchiness
in it Melody of a familiar folk-song or dance
type now came in, divided into regular periods with
strongly-marked rhythms This may be seen clearly
in, for example, Morley’s “ballets”-part-songs
that could be danced to Clear, easily understood,
when once it came in it, never went out again
Its shaping power may be felt in the fugue subjects
of Bach and Handel, as well as in their songs
This folk-song type of melody was modified during
the search after expressive declamation The ideal
was to get tunes which were beautiful as tunes, and
at the same time did full justice to the composer’s
words, to preserve the accent and full meaning of
the poetry Henry Lawes won Milton’s approbation
by his success in doing this, and Milton wrote:
“Harry, whose tuneful and
well-measured notes First taught our
English music how to span
Words with just note and accent.”
Lawes was not always successful:
when his tunes do not disregard the words they are
apt to be angular.
3. Harmony.-
When a modern person first hears a piece of accompanied
plainsong sung, he is generally bewildered The
beginning may trouble him and the middle worry him-the
ending invariably confounds him The thing ends
in no key recognised by the modern ear In the
old days there were no keys, but modes, each with
its dominant, its tonic, and proper and appropriate
ending Until comparatively recent times musicians
understood this quite well; to Purcell, and to composers
much later than him, the old endings were perfectly
satisfactory This, for instance, left no sense
of the unfinished:
Gradually two keys swamped and swept
away the modes-our major and minor; then
our modern feeling for key relationships was born
Here is the major scale of C with a satisfactory harmonic
ending:
It will be noticed that the top note
of the chord marked with a star, the last note but
one of the scale, is a semitone below the last note
of the scale and rises to the last note That
is a proper ending or full close; what was called
a half-close was:
As a termination to a piece of music
made up of the notes of the scale of C, and therefore
said to be in the key of C, this was not satisfactory
To set the ear and the mind at ease, to get a feeling
that the music has settled down on a secure resting-place,
the first chord had to be repeated And in these
chords
lies the germ of the whole of the
later music Only two more steps were needed
By adding an F, or writing an F instead of the upper
G in the middle chord, the chord of the dominant seventh
was obtained:
And anyone can try for himself on
a piano, and find out that this chord makes the longing
for the tonic chord-the chord of C-more
imperious and the feeling of rest satisfying in proportion
when the last chord is reached That was one
step: the next was to convert the dominant, G,
of the key of C into a tonic for the time being, to
get a sense of having reached the key of G. That was
done by regarding G as a tonic, and on its
dominant, D, writing a chord, either a dominant seventh
or a simple major common chord, leading to a chord
of G-thus:
But if after this a seventh on the
dominant is played, followed by the original key-chord
then we are home once more in the
original key If the reader will imagine, instead
of a few simple chords, a passage of music in the key
of C, followed by a passage in the dominant key of
G, and ending with a passage in the key of C, he will
perceive that here is the deep underlying principle
of modern music: that after a certain length of
time spent in one key the ear wearies, and the modulation
to the new key is grateful; but after a time the ear
craves for the original key again, so after getting
to that, and spending a certain time there, a piece
closes with perfectly satisfying effect Haydn
was the first to get that principle in an iron grasp
and use it, with numberless other devices, to get
unity in variety Not till nearly a hundred years
after Purcell’s day did that come to pass; but
the music of Purcell and of others in his period,
showing a sense of key relationships and key values,
is a vast step from the music written in the old modes
Let me beg everyone not to be so foolish as to believe
the nonsense of the academic text-books when they
speak of the new type and structure of the newer music
as an “improvement” on the old The
older were perfect for the things that had to be expressed;
the newer became necessary only when other things had
to be expressed By the substitution of the two
scales, the major and the minor, with the dominant
always on the same degree of the scale, the fifth,
and the order of the tones and semitones fixed immovably,
for the numerous modes with the dominants and the
order of the tones and semitones here, there and everywhere,
the problems of harmony could be grappled with, and
its resources exploited in a methodical way that had
been impossible But melodically the loss was
enormous We of this generation have by study
to win back some small sense of the value and beauty
of the intervals of the ancient scales, varying in
each scale, a sense that was once free and common
to everyone who knew anything of music at all.
Purcell and his immediate predecessors
and contemporaries came into what Hullah rightly called
the “transition period.” Purcell is
now to be considered, and of the others it need only
be said that we see in their music the old modes losing
their hold and the new key sense growing stronger
Their music compared with the old is modern, though
compared with all music later than Handel it is archaic.