A Short History of English Music

Opera, as we know it to-day, is a creation subsequent to the Reformation. Like oratorio, the country of its birth was Italy, and similarly, its origin was connected with the miracle plays of the ancient Church. On its introduction to England, Purcell, with his restless genius, was quick to perceive the possibilities it opened out to the imaginative musician, and it was not long before he was testing his powers in the new field of labour. Unhappily, however, his life was too short to permit him to make any effective appeal on its behalf to the English people, and it soon became looked upon by them, simply, as a diversion of a foreign court or the amusement of an aristocracy, with either of whom they were in little sympathy. So far as the masses of people are concerned, nothing has happened since those days, to materially alter the situation.

Opera remains a source of entertainment to the wealthy, or a luxury to the middle-classes. In early Puritan times it was regarded with particular horror, but as time passed, it became rather to be looked upon with indifference, since it so evidently made little impression on the common people. It is not difficult to suggest a cause for the hostility with which it was early regarded. Opera came, first, prominently into notice in the reign of Charles II., and as he was a great patron of all foreign inventions, he naturally bestowed his patronage, and probably ostentatiously, on this one. Thus it would be associated in the minds of the people with the hideous immorality of that wretched monarch and his court.

At any rate, to them it was a foreign institution, and, to all intents and purposes, it has so remained to this day. There is little to wonder at in this. If the reign of Charles II. was sufficient to determine the people to get rid of the Stuart dynasty at any price, there is nothing surprising in the comparatively unimportant fact, that they became prejudiced against any new form of foreign amusement to which he and his court accorded princely support. He was alien in blood, in tastes and sympathies, and was utterly cynical in his ways of showing it.

The performances were mainly given in Italian, a language understood by but few, even of the wealthy classes, but, as ever, so soon as it became the fashion and the "right thing" to support it, success was assured. It is not an excess of language to say the conditions that obtain to-day are not far removed from those of the times described. Italian opera has been for centuries the most fashionable and exclusive source of amusement in the metropolis, and far beyond the reach of the masses.

By the time Handel arrived in London, it had secured a position that promised a permanent hold on fashionable society. It was not long before Handel challenged Italian supremacy, by taking a theatre, and establishing a rival enterprise; "Italian" opera of his own composition being the great source of attraction. He was, for some years entirely successful, but eventually he abandoned the field to his Italian competitors.

The nineteenth century saw Italian opera in England at the height of its glory. In the early part, the world was thrilled by such singers as Sontag and Malibran, but perhaps the most brilliant period of its ascendancy began with the managements of Smith, Gye and Mapleson. The wealth of great singers these three had at their command, is a matter for pure amazement. To think of being able to "cast" Mozart's "Don Giovanni" with the soprano parts alone, filled by Therese Tietjens, Adelina Patti and Christine Nilsson!

It is out of the question to attempt to give anything approaching a list of the singers they had at their call. A few of the names will be sufficient to give a fairly adequate idea; Guiligni, Mario, Sims Reeves, Niccolini, Santley and Lablache being among them.

The "Royal Italian Opera" as it was, for long called, culminated in splendour and success under the management of the late Sir Augustus Harris. His achievements, being so recent, will be well within public recollection, but it is worthy to recall the triumphs of those supreme artists, Madame Melba and the brothers De Reszke, made during his memorable reign at Covent Garden.

Operas by Italian composers had long ceased to be the sole or even principal, attraction presented; the French school having become more prominent, and above all, the mighty influence exercised by Wagner, making the frequent presentations of his works a matter of inevitability.

The dropping of the word "Italian," in the title of the institution, was simply a matter of expedience, "Royal Opera" being more in accord with the work achieved, and the spirit of the times. Since the accession to power of the Directorate which now rules the fortunes of the historic house, perhaps the most memorable of its many claims to gratitude has been the manner in which Wagner's immortal work, "Der Ring des Nibelungen," has been given, under the direction of Dr. Richter. Every possible accessory of splendour, efficient mounting, the finest cast of Wagnerian singers obtainable, an orchestra that could not be excelled, has been placed at the disposition of the great conductor.

The result of such enterprise has not only been to increase its already great prestige, but to bring within the cultured circles of the true lovers of Wagner, many thousands who had, otherwise, remained outside. Taking any single season as a characteristic one, it may be truly said that it offers a fair and varied representation of the tastes and predilections of its wealthy and cosmopolitan patrons.

That the "Royal Opera" is, in any sense, national in character, is not claimed for it, but what it does set out to do, is done in a manner that leaves criticism in abeyance.

A feature in the performances of late years, that has been a matter of gratification, is the frequent appearance of English-speaking singers and their pronounced success; that of Madame Kirkby-Lunn being, perhaps, the most notable.

When we come to the consideration of opera in English, or "English Opera," there is, unfortunately, a very different tale to tell. Before commencing to narrate, as briefly as possible, the salient features of its history, I should like to refer to two events which demand recognition, but which, however interesting, as they undoubtedly were, were ephemeral, if not in effect, at least in existence as living forces.

When Hans Richter undertook to conduct a series of performances of Wagner's greatest works with English singers as exponents,28 he not only gave effect to the belief that was in him, of their capabilities, but he gave one more proof, and it was a supreme one, of his love for, and gratitude to the country that had so deeply appreciated him.

It was, looking at it from any point of view, splendid, but when viewed in the light of the expenditure of nervous energy it must have entailed, it was simply heroic. At an age when he was entitled to rest, more even, than most great workers, he entered upon the task with no view to gain for himself or his prestige – that was impossible – but, apparently, with an idea of paying what he may have thought a debt, to the country with which he had been so long associated. At any rate, whatever the motive, it was a noble act, and his name will live long in the memory of those who are interested in English music, and can appreciate a noble and unselfish career.

The courageous attempt of Mr. Thomas Beecham to give prolonged seasons of opera in English, and his astonishingly fine performances of the extremely intricate works of Richard Strauss, deserve grateful recognition, and it is a matter of regret that the public support he received was not sufficient to allow of the continuance of his efforts.

His representations were on a scale of efficiency that London had not seen for a great many years, and this fact, although satisfactory in itself, only gives food to the thought that there are not, as yet, unfortunately, sufficient lovers of opera among the masses, to make such seasons possible, without considerable financial loss to those who venture on them.

From earliest times there have ever been enthusiasts who ardently desired to found a school of English opera, or, at least, give the English people a chance to acquire an intelligent appreciation of that form of art, through the medium of their own language and their own people.

Perhaps the first man to grapple with the subject, and attain, to an appreciable extent, any abiding success, was Alfred Bunn, who was born towards the close of the eighteenth century, and became lessee of Drury Lane theatre in 1834.

That there was any enthusiasm shown, when he ventured on a season of English opera, there is little evidence to prove. However, he was an enthusiast and, if not a poet judged by the standard of Percy Bysshe Shelley, he had sufficient literary ability to write the libretto for Balfe's "Bohemian Girl," and thus furnish that composer with the means of producing a work, which, whatever may be thought of it to-day by the cultivated amateur, obtained a hold on the English people, and still retains it, such as no similar one has ever succeeded in effecting.

One would think that he would have been justified in expecting sympathetic encouragement in his endeavour on behalf of native art.

There is no trace of it.

On the contrary, he seems to have been gifted with a veritable genius for evoking, somehow or other, perfect cyclones of abuse and opposition. In fact, his whole managerial career appears to have been spent in an atmosphere of turmoil. He was sarcastically dubbed "the poet Bunn," and, although a man of resource, as twenty-five years of theatrical management is, alone, sufficient to prove, his end was sad, and not without significance as regards English opera. He eventually became a bankrupt, and died in exile in 1860.

There is this, however, to his credit, and the honour of his memory, that he was instrumental in bringing into existence the two most popular operas ever written by British composers, Balfe's "Bohemian Girl" and Wallace's "Maritana."

The next most important event in its history, was the formation of a company under the joint management of Miss Louisa Pyne and Mr. William Harrison, in 1856. Here again, the object was not only to present opera in English, but to invite the co-operation of British composers to further the cause – that is to say, the founding of an original school of English opera. Everything seemed to augur well for the enterprise. Both were distinguished singers, with large operatic experience. Miss Pyne had achieved great success, not only in Europe, but in America, where she had aroused the greatest enthusiasm, and her name was, naturally, looked upon as the particular source of attraction to the public, and, indeed, the mainstay of the undertaking.

She came of a rare family of English musicians. Her father George, and her uncle, James Kendrick Pyne, were both well-known singers. The son of the latter, Mr. Kendrick Pyne, a splendid musician himself, and lifelong friend of Samuel Sebastian Wesley, for many years organist of Bath Abbey, was the father of two musicians; the elder, Dr. Kendrick Pyne, the distinguished organist of Manchester Cathedral, and Minton Pyne who, unhappily, died at an early age in Philadelphia, U.S.A., before he had been given time to develop the musical genius he undoubtedly possessed.

The Pyne-Harrison company, as it was called, was started most successfully, and soon established a reputation that bade fair to presage permanent results.

Among the most successful of the many operas produced, were Balfe's "Rose of Castille"; Vincent Wallace's "Lurline" and Benedict's "Lily of Killarney."

Such facts as these, unquestionably, shed a lustre over the attempt, so well conceived and so bravely carried out, but unfortunately, the financial position became increasingly difficult as the enterprise progressed, until, finally, the partnership was dissolved, and Miss Pyne retired into private life, in 1862.

After her retirement from the stage, she devoted herself to teaching, and, as Madame Bodda-Pyne, by which name she became known through her marriage, achieved great distinction in her new field of labour.

At the time of her death, in 1904, she was in receipt of a Civil List pension, as a recognition of her distinguished services to the art of music.

Of the British composers who were attracted to the stage in the mid-nineteenth century, one of the most prolific was (Sir) George Alexander Macfarren. He produced, under different managements, upwards of a dozen operas, besides writing many more that never saw the light. The most popular of them was "Robin Hood," which appeared in 1860. It was one of the best examples of ballad-opera ever written. At this period, our national composers would seem to have directed all their thought and energies to this particular form. That their judgment was wrong in this respect, is shown by the absolute oblivion into which, with two or three exceptions, their productions have fallen. The period is, in any case, not one which Englishmen may wish to dwell on.

Another era was initiated, happily, not many years after, by the works of Sir Alexander Mackenzie and Sir Villiers Stanford.

Since the Pyne-Harrison epoch, there have been many attempts, with varying success, to continue the cult of English opera. It would be impossible in a book of the dimensions such as this, to describe them all. One need only say that the sincerity attached to many of them, has deserved a better fate than that experienced. I must content myself with giving an indication of the most important efforts subsequently made, – always with the same object in view.

At the present time, the Carl Rosa company, the Moody-Manners company, so intimately associated with the triumphs of Madame Moody, and the "J. W. Turner" company, are all carrying on the good work, so it would be premature to write fully as to their undertakings.

It is sufficient to say that each one carries on the work of education after its own methods, and doubtless with equal effect.

I will now continue the consideration of fundamentally vital influences that have affected the position as it remains to-day.

The man who, in modern times, most nearly reached the point of founding an English school of opera was, without question, the late Carl Rosa.

This distinguished musician was a German by birth, who, after a prolonged visit to America, where he married the great singer Madame Parepa, came to London in 1874.

He immediately commenced preparations for the formation of a company of English singers, with a view to give performances of opera in the English language.

The lamentable death of his wife soon after their settling in England, on whose aid he had so greatly counted, and whose enthusiasm for the project was very pronounced, naturally delayed its execution.

However, in the following year he opened at the Princess Theatre with Mr. (now Sir) Charles Santley and Miss Rose Hersee as his leading performers. The fact of the season lasting two months, was evidently sufficient to convince him that he had good reason to believe in the ultimate success of his idea, for he at once arranged for a session of longer duration in the following year.

His ambition was not confined, however, to simply give operatic performances in English: he had the greater one, should his venture prove successful, to invite British composers to write works for him, and thus make his enterprise a thing of permanent national importance. That he failed in his splendid effort was no fault of his own, or those surrounding him.

As time went on, he gathered together a band of devoted and enthusiastic artists, many of whose names spring vividly to the memory.

Alwina Valleria, Julia Gaylord, Georgina Burns, Josephine York, Joseph Maas, J. W. Turner, Barton McGuckin, Ben Davies, Leslie Crotty and William Ludwig, in addition to the two distinguished singers already mentioned, were among them, and supply more than sufficient evidence of the powerful combinations he had at his disposal for the interpretation of any work he might decide to produce.

Few, for example, who had the good fortune to hear Madame Valleria and Mr. Ludwig as "Senta" and "Philip Vanderdecken" in Wagner's "Flying Dutchman," could ever forget the experience. Carl Rosa, then, gave British composers their chance, under circumstances that could hardly be more favourable. And yet, of the many of such operas as he produced, there is not a single one that is now anything more than a memory.

The reflection is positively painful, of the amount of labour, skill and enthusiasm thrown away. The evidence of genius in many of them is apparent.

Still, they failed to weald around the characters the sympathy that attaches to those that have attained to world-wide affection. Why? with all the resources of their art at their hands?

It cannot be said, in view of recent experience, that indifference to native art was the cause. Try as one may, to evade a decision on the point, it seems inevitable to admit, that the feeling and sense of soil-origin that appears to accompany complete success, was lacking.

It is not necessary to deal with more than one of these works, to give the reader an illustration of the idea intended to be conveyed, and I will choose the one that was, indisputably, the most successful of them all.

"Esmeralda," by Arthur Goring Thomas, whose premature death was so deplored by a large circle of friends and still greater number of sincere admirers of his genius, was produced by Carl Rosa in 1883.

It achieved not only a "first night" success, which so often proves to be but a prelude to an "every other night" failure, but, by its charm, it so fascinated opera-goers, that for a few years it became a regular feature of the repertory of the company's performances, both in London and the provinces.

To what, then, must we look for its failure to retain so honourable a position?

I am afraid, and I say it with regret, to unconscious imitation. It was, in his case, not only natural, but, as it seems to me, inevitable. He had lived for long in France and had become so saturated with her school of music, that every bar he wrote proclaimed the fact; but while master of the exterior mode of style, his compositions failed to show the working of the French mind, that underlies the extraordinary expressions of that wonderful people's genius.

They were earnest in intention, skilful in invention, and quite delightful at the first hearing, but of national virility they were, unhappily, not possessed.

Carl Rosa deserves the grateful memory of the English people.

Of the many attempts to establish English opera in London on a permanent basis, the most extraordinary as well as the most disastrous, was that of the late Mr. D'Oyly Carte in 1891, and which was dignified by the title of "Royal English Opera."

The original intention of the founder, as generally understood, was not only to build a sumptuous home for it, but to encourage its cultivation and development and, by commissioning distinguished British composers to write works, make it, in fact, a nursery for native genius.

The idea was, doubtless, a splendid one, but, unfortunately, the attempt to carry it out was characterised by features that were more surprising than convincing. If the design had been to discard, obtrusively, all precedent, it was entirely fulfilled. Certainly, no lack of courage was in evidence, although prudence seemed to be wanting.

Every one engaged to carry out the great scheme was new to such work. Sir Arthur Sullivan, whose "Ivanhoe" was to inaugurate the attempt, was writing his first grand opera; the artistes chosen for its performance were all with one or two exceptions, without any previous experience of it; the musician selected as musical director had never previously conducted a grand opera, and the stage manager had never produced one.

But perhaps the most extraordinary thing of all, and the idea was most assuredly new, was to start such a scheme with only one opera, and no definite decision as regards a second.

If this were not tempting the Fates, it is difficult to know what would be. At any rate, the Fates did not leave the issue long in doubt.

The immense popularity Sir Arthur Sullivan enjoyed, not only on account of his delightful comic operas, but of his splendid work in other and more serious directions, stimulated public interest, and the production of "Ivanhoe" was awaited with feverish expectation.

Never, it can be truly said, did the Press greet a new venture with greater warmth and enthusiasm. Columns of anticipatory notices were devoted to it, many bearing additional weight by being signed by the writers, and even leading articles in the foremost journals of the country, lending encouragement to the enterprise, went to mark the serious mind in which it was regarded. At last, the eventful night arrived, and the opera was produced under conditions that could hardly have been rendered more favourable.

The reception of the work by the Press and the public was scarcely identical. By the former it was generous, although naturally, critical, the evident uneven merit it exhibited being insisted on; but, on the whole, it was decidedly encouraging, although not so enthusiastic as its admirers would have wished. Time, however, has justified the critics. By the people it was accepted whole-heartedly, as may be judged by the fact that its run extended to 168 consecutive performances. It is true that during the last two months, financial loss was experienced, but at the end of the first hundred nights, notwithstanding the expense of the production, which was exceptionally heavy, there was a balance to the good. It may be mentioned that this constitutes a record in the history of grand opera.

The public were quick to recognise the beauty of much of the music, and its dramatic power, while they were delighted, and perhaps surprised, by the fine acting that accompanied the superb singing of several of the principals.

The universal acclamation of the splendour of the production was a tribute, well deserved, to the genius of Mr. Hugh Moss.

Of the artists who achieved distinction in this memorable production, the name of the late Eugène Oudin, stands out pre-eminently. His rendering of the part of the Templar, being not only masterly, but instinct with genius.

Other noteworthy performances were those of Miss Margaret Macintyre, Miss Esther Palliser, Miss Lucille Hill, Mr. Ben Davies, Mr. Norman Salmond and Mr. Franklin Clive.

Alas! that it all should have been so piteously wasted. There never was a more complete failure to realise hopes that had been, perhaps unduly, raised, and which were responded to with greater generosity by both Press and public alike. When the "Royal English Opera" was actually inaugurated, not only was a second opera by an English composer in anything more than nebulous contemplation, but not even a single relief to the constant succession of performances of "Ivanhoe" was in course of preparation. This state of things continued until the end was reached and the opera house closed. It was re-opened some months later, for the production of the "Basoche," an opera by the distinguished French composer, André Messager. This work, delightful as it is, failed to attract people in sufficient numbers to make the continuance of the scheme possible, and it came to an end, finally, after an existence of one year's duration. The failure was inglorious and inevitable. The break-up of the company, many of whose members had shown evidence of such high capacity, was a matter of deep regret; a regret the more poignant, since many connected with the enterprise were destined to suffer severely by its early collapse.

I think it will be generally admitted that the idea of establishing a school of English opera, with any chance of permanence pertaining to it, seems hopeless of accomplishment without State aid; and of this, viewing the trend of recent legislation, there would appear to be little prospect.

To have the most remote chance of gaining it, it would be incumbent on those prepared to make the proposal, to convince legislators that there was any national demand for it. Of any evidence of this, I am afraid they would find themselves absolutely lacking. The tendency, at the present day, is in the direction of raising the status of the labourer, socially and in the matter of education, rather than in the cause of art, which, after all, mainly appeals to people who are in the position, more or less, to pay for the thing they feel any serious need of. Such I think, would be the nature of the reply from any government official to those courageous enough to urge so forlorn, yet so good a cause.