CHAPTER XIII

THE ENGLISH MUSICAL RENAISSANCE

Social considerations; analogy between English and American conditions--The German influence and its results: Sterndale Bennett and others; the first group of independents: Sullivan, Mackenzie, Parry, Goring Thomas, Cowen, Stanford and Elgar--The second group: Delius and Bantock; McCunn and German; Smyth, Davies, Wallace and others, D. F. Tovey; musico-literary workers, musical comedy writers--The third group: Vaughan Williams, Coleridge Taylor and W. Y. Hurlstone; Holbrooke, Grainger, Scott, etc.; Frank Bridge and others; organ music, chamber music, songs.

I

The word _renaissance_ when applied to English musical conditions from about 1870 onwards is convenient but slightly inaccurate. It gives us an easy group-symbol for a large and unexpected outburst of activity; but it does not either state or explain a fact. _Re-naissance_ means 'a being born again,' and that implies previous death. But the flame of life had never quite died out in the country to whose first great composer (Dunstable) the modern world owes the invention of musical art.

In its church and choral music especially there had always been a flicker of life which at least once, in the reigns of Elizabeth and the first James, had blazed up into an astounding vitality. However, it was not to be expected that the nation could go on living at this white heat. The flame burnt itself down, but not out; and the embers of a national art that had once been great enough to light up the wide spaces of the world smouldered through the eighteenth century and far into the nineteenth.

The history of this ecclesiastical music might almost have been predicted. Its postulates are merely the isolation and selfishness of the English Church from the days of William and Mary to those of the Oxford movement. But there are some other factors governing the productions of 'secular' music; and these we must examine.

From about the time of Purcell's death onwards (1695) England was engaged in eating up as much of the world as possible. And the result was national indigestion. Already in Charles II's time there had been alarming signs of an after-dinner torpidity which could find pleasure only in the latest trickeries imported from France. The old healthy delight in music as the recreation of freemen was disappearing; and the Englishman, spending his long day in the conquest, the civilization, and the administration of his great empire, found himself in the evening too weary for anything but contemptuous applause.

Hence began the artistic invasion of England. The foreigner was quick to see his opportunity in the preoccupations of the nation. Over the sea he came in shoals, impelled partly by the very natural belief in his own nation as the source of all _kultur_, and principally by his interest in the pound sterling. And, once landed, there he remained. His motto was that of the old Hanoverian countess: 'Ve kom for all your goots.'

It is unnecessary in this place to detail either the methods or the pernicious effects of this unnatural domination. Händel was a great, good, and pure-minded man, but when he came to England in 1710 he came to be a curse and an incubus brooding over the English spirit for 150 years. Music very nearly died there and, when the corpse showed any signs of reviving, some foreign professor was always at hand to stifle its faint cries, or, if that was not enough, to do a little quiet blood-letting 'just to make sure.' Even in the third quarter of the nineteenth century England maintained men like Karl Halle (later Charles Hallé, and later still _Sir_ Charles Hallé) who were content to accept position, affluence, and titles, giving in exchange bitter and persistent opposition to the creative art of their adopted country.

This deplorable state of affairs continued more or less down to the middle year of last century. About that time certain forces came into play which have markedly changed the social and artistic conditions of England. And only in this sense can we say that there has been such a thing as a renaissance or rebirth of music. Looked at from the twentieth-century end of the telescope the changes seem violent and unbelievable; but, if we put the glass down and walk through the country itself, we shall be forced to accept them as only a natural and inevitable broadening of the landscape.

The main fact on which we wish to dwell here is that between the years 1870 and 1915 England has been able to assert her nationality in music. And this is a matter of the deepest interest to all Americans who love their country. The preponderance of blood here is Anglo-Saxon and, though America has the advantages and disadvantages of a mixed population, she has yet to learn the lesson already learned by some other peoples, that only by the paths of nationalism can she scale the heights of internationalism.

In more ways than one America's 1915 is England's 1870. The American composer need not engrave this fact on his notepaper, but he may be recommended by a sincere well-wisher to keep it in his heart. On both the material and the spiritual sides it is true. Watch the orchestral players on a Sunday night at the 'Metropolitan.' They are the sons of the men who were playing in 1870 at Covent Garden. But since then the Englishman has asserted his personality; and to-day there is scarcely a foreigner in any first-class English orchestra. Again, read through the synopses of novelties in any season's concert programs here. How many are American? Almost none. A hundred million people owning half a continent with vast waterways, prairies, and mountain ranges--yet musically nearly inarticulate! There must be something wrong here.

Let us hasten to add that the brain-stuff of the American composer is just as good as the brain-stuff of any other composer. More than that, he alone of all his countrymen seems to be aware that the price of victory is battle and death in battle.

No one can say that England has yet conquered the world in a musical sense. Still her achievements are much greater than are generally recognized on this side of the Atlantic. The art-works which represent these achievements lie mostly on composers' shelves and in publishers' cellars, kept there partly by their own strangeness and partly by the timidity and self-effacement of their authors.

Already similar works are being produced in America; and it is therefore hoped that a consideration of the musical conditions and processes in England between 1870 and 1915 may be helpful to American composers. One may add that at the earlier date the outside English public was just as heavily ignorant and indifferent as the American public is now. In the one case the leaven came, and in the other is coming from within.

II

In a short sketch like the present it is not possible to discuss fully the changed social conditions which brought about the English musical renaissance. One must, however, mention two forces which, acting somewhat blindly on the individual, yet produced great effects in the mass. The first of these was the re-cognition that the man who mattered was the man of the soil. From this re-cognition sprang the whole folk-song movement--a movement whose depth and importance are still very little understood in America. The second is the growth of healthy liberal opinions and the partial reconsideration of the English caste-system. On this change the example of democratic America has undoubtedly had great influence. The result of this levelling upwards and downwards can be seen in the fact that, whereas prior to 1870 the English composer was generally a scallywag, now he is a gentleman.[77]

We have already said that England was never quite dead musically. To the outsider she may have appeared so, but it was really only a 'deep surgical anæsthesia.' And the analogy holds. She had been operated on so often by her German specialists that, as she came out of her sleep, she only very gradually began to ask herself whether, without another operation, she might not be able to find health by dismissing her doctors and changing her mode of life. Naturally it was a wrench to her to send the doctors packing; and her weak system almost, but not quite, refused her new diet of English bread and English water. In other words, if we divide the men of the English musical renaissance into three groups according to age, we shall find that the oldest group--to whom belongs all the honor of the spade--were almost to a man foreign-trained. Their main ideals were Joachim and Brahms, and their chief quarrel with the second and third groups--their pupils, be it said--was the quarrel between German technique and English.

To the most distinguished thinker of that school the correct way of writing a song is still the German way. The rest-of-the-world way is simply _wrong_. Race, feeling, national sentiment, all go for nothing. In effect he says: 'You may draw your water from a spring in Kent, in Maryland, or in Siberia; but it won't travel except in disused Rhine-wine bottles.' The proposition only needs stating to be condemned.

This is, in small, the attitude of the oldest group. But we must remember that most of them continually forget their treasonable theories and prove their loyalty to national ideals in their practice. It is not a complete loyalty, but it is one to which all respect and honor are due. We must not judge it by the tree of which it was itself the seed, but by the sickly undergrowth among which it managed to strike root. And this shrivelled stuff is represented to us by such names as E. J. Loder (1813-65), H. H. Pierson (1815-73), and W. Sterndale Bennett (1816-75). The last-named composer in especial is a striking instance of an able but weak personality overwhelmed by circumstance. When he was a student among the Germans his docility to their ideals won Schumann's approval. Returning to England, he found himself, so to speak, hanging in the air like an orchid--without roots. Naturally he withered away. And for many years England had the spectacle of her chief musician dribbling out smooth Anglo-German platitudes, while Germany herself was producing _Lohengrin_, _Tristan_, and 'The Ring.' Only one work of his has weathered the storm of the English musical revival--'The Naiads.' But, of course, neither he, nor Loder, nor Pierson had any closer connection with the English renaissance than the glow-worm has with the coming sun. All three of these men were as clever as any living American or English composer. They were all driven into indignant silence, sullen despair, or musical madness by the anti-national conditions of their time.

Contrast their output with that of the seven musical children whom the fairy-stork brought to the rebirth of English music. Their names and natal years are: Arthur Seymour Sullivan (1842), Alexander Campbell Mackenzie (1847), Charles Hubert Hastings Parry (1848), Arthur Goring Thomas (1851), Frederic Hymen Cowen (1852), Charles Villiers Stanford (1852), and Edward William Elgar (1857). These seven men then--all German-trained except Elgar and Thomas--yet draw a large part of their vitality from the soil on which they were bred. One only needs to hear an Irish Rhapsody of Stanford, a big chorus of Parry, or a gay little song of Sullivan to become aware of a 'new something' in art. And, if the American reader be inclined to doubt this 'new something' at a first hearing, he may be earnestly advised to ask himself this question: 'What would be my first impressions of a symphonic poem by Strauss if that were my first introduction to a German art-work?'

The fertility of all these composers is so amazing that any attempt to catalogue their works would stifle the rest of this volume. Songs, operas, symphonies, sonatas, variations, church music, and choral works all pour forth in an endless stream. Under the one heading, 'works for voice and orchestra,' Parry has 33 entries. Stanford's opus numbers approach 150, and he begins with 7 operas, 7 symphonies, incidental music to 5 plays, and 27 'orchestral and choral works.' Cowen has written 4 operas, 4 oratorios, 6 symphonies, and 18 cantatas; and that is only the beginning of his list. It is plainly impossible even to hint at this enormous mass of material. We must content ourselves with a rapid glance at the distinguishing features of each composer.

Sullivan, the man who endeared himself personally and musically to a generation, needs no introduction. His work is practically summed up in the words 'Savoy Opera.' And these words stand everywhere for melodic charm and fancy, delicate humor, and exquisitely finished workmanship. On the more æsthetic side we owe him a lasting debt 'for his recognition of the fact that it was not only necessary to set his text to music which was pleasing in itself, but to invent melodies in such close alliance with the words that the two things became (to the hearer) indistinguishable.' His long series of works beginning with 'Contrabandista,' 'Cox and Box,' and 'Trial by Jury' continued through 'Patience,' 'Pinafore,' 'The Mikado,' 'The Yeomen of the Guard,' 'The Gondoliers,' and others, till his death interrupted the composition of his last work, 'The Emerald Isle.' It must be added that both in his simple concert songs and in his choral music Sullivan enjoyed a wide popularity. This is now waning. Of his larger concert works 'The Golden Legend' and the overture 'Di Ballo' possess the greatest vitality.

Mackenzie, who succeeded Macfarren (1813-87) as principal of the Royal Academy of Music, is a man of forceful character. Like Sullivan, he was trained in Germany and came back a brilliant contrapuntist with wide, far-reaching musical intentions. Familiar with every nook in the orchestra, he has produced a mass of concert and opera music all characterized by great technical dexterity and a certain continual color and warmth. More than once the present writer has been surprised by some particularly modern stroke of his orchestral expression and, after ascribing it to the influence of the most neo of neo-continentals, has discovered that Mackenzie was doing it before its supposed author was born. It is a common word in London that Stanford and Mackenzie spend their evenings reading each other's full-scores, both missing out the German parts. Of Mackenzie's works the best known are the violin 'Benedictus' and 'Pibroch,' the orchestral ballad _La Belle Dame sans Merci_, the cantatas 'The Story of Sayid,' 'The Cottar's Saturday Night,' 'The Dream of Jubal,' and, finally, the ever-popular overture 'Britannia.'

The English public connects Parry's name mainly with his colossal choral writings and with his directorship of The Royal College of Music. That, however, by no means exhausts the list of his activities. In the realms of song, of symphonic and chamber music, he has shown an astonishing fertility. His productions are marked throughout by a boundless contrapuntal skill based very decidedly on the old order of things. To his heroic mind forty-part writing is probably very much what four-part writing is to the rest of mankind. A sort of hard-knit sincerity and a lyrical grandeur pervade all his works. One feels that, if Milton's father had had his son's genius, he would have been a seventeenth-century Parry. Of humor he has none, but in its place a constant cheerfulness characteristic of a certain very good type of Englishman. His best-loved work is undoubtedly 'Blest Pair of Sirens.' But after that we must mention 'The Glories of Our Blood and State,' _L'Allegro ed il Pensieroso_, 'Lady Radnor's Suite,' the 'Symphonic Variations in E minor,' and the beautiful series of 'English Lyrics.'

Goring Thomas was an Englishman who, with the help of great natural talent and of long residence in France, almost performed the miracle of successfully changing his nationality. Of course, he had to pay the price; and it was heavy. After burning incense at the altar of French ideals he came back to a country where grand opera was only an annual importation symbolical of financial respectability. He might have done Sullivan's work better than Sullivan. But the fates were inexorably against him. He did not even get a knighthood. Imagine Saint-Saëns caught young and studying Handelian counterpoint at the Royal Academy of Music; or Stravinsky doing 'fifth grade harmony' at the Royal College of Music with his eye on the organ-loft at York Minster or the conductor's seat at the Gaiety as possible goals of his ambition. Either instance will give the curious reader some idea of Thomas's difficulties, social and psychological. One must add that he cannot be denied great charm of manner and a strong selective gift both in his melody and harmony. He had all the Frenchman's talent for recognizing dramatic effect and securing it swiftly. His best-known works are 'Esmeralda,' 'Nadeshda,' and 'The Swan and the Skylark.'

Cowen is a West Indian Jew. His artistic activities, however, have mainly centred round London and Glasgow. In the former place he has conducted the 'Philharmonic,' and in the latter the Scottish Orchestra. As a composer he has been both over-blamed and over-praised. His blood undoubtedly gives him facility, adaptability, and a somewhat detached viewpoint. These qualities, academically praised by the Anglo-Saxon, yet excite in England a certain half-envious distrust when actually exercised. For instance, the English musician does not care two raps about the style of composition commonly called 'ye olde English'; but he thinks it scarcely proper that Cowen should be able to write in that style so well. Again, in his heart of hearts the professional man probably thinks that King David's ultimate object in writing Psalm 130 was the afternoon service at Westminster Abbey; and here, too, Cowen's pen causes some uneasiness. On the other side of the picture we have had the composer figuring with the public for years as a miracle of charm, grace, and delicate fancy. A fair view of Cowen would probably show him as a composer somewhat isolated from his fellows, naturally inclined to the lighter side of life, and perhaps more anxious for the laurel than for the dust. His easy yet punctilious technique is shown in a long list of popular works. Of these the most successful are his two sets of 'Old English Dances,' the orchestral suite 'The Language of Flowers,' the overture 'The Butterflies' Ball,' the 'Scandinavian,' 'Welsh,' and 'Idyllic' symphonies, and the choral works 'Ruth,' 'The Rose Maiden,' 'The Sleeping Beauty,' and the 'Ode to the Passions.'

Stanford and Ireland contribute respectively to English musical life and to the empire what a penn'orth of yeast does to a basin of dough. As far as one may judge the ferment cannot be stopped. Its chemical constituents are wit, clarity, and humor, all combined by a delightful ease and precision of technique. Stanford's scores are models of elegant reticence and their 'form' is beyond reproach. In all his work one notices a constant refusal to accept gloom for poetry. He is a musical Oliver Goldsmith of the nineteenth century. No one has done more for the preservation, the arranging, and the publishing of Irish folk-song. Among the best-known of his works are his comic opera 'Shamus O'Brien,' his 'Irish Rhapsodies,' his 'Variations on an English Theme,' and his many fine string quartets and quintets. In the realm of song-literature both original and arranged he has a great record; much of his church music is by now classic on both sides of the Atlantic; and he has made a very special success with his striking Choral Ballads. In these last three departments one may mention his 'Cavalier Songs' and his 'Songs of Old Ireland'; his Services in B-flat, A and F; 'The Revenge,' 'The Voyage of Maeldune,' 'The Bard,' and 'Phaudrig Crohoore.'

Elgar's advantage over the other six members of this group lies, not merely in his comparative youth, but in the fact that he began his serious and prolonged husbandry after the others had done the ploughing. Practically self-educated, he set out with the very noble determination to conquer the world unaided except by his own brains. What this determination means in a densely populated, imperialistic country like England probably very few Americans can realize. From his home in Malvern and later in London he began to issue a series of works, few in number as the men of his generation counted these things, but of unsurpassed poetical quality. His earlier work, such as 'King Olaf' and 'Caractacus,' met with no very wide appreciation; but, with the appearance of his 'Enigma Variations,' his 'Sea Songs,' and his beautiful oratorio, 'The Dream of Gerontius,' came general European recognition. His present unassailable position in England may be gauged from the fact that his oratorios--saturated with the Roman Catholic spirit--are welcomed even in the English cathedrals. Nor are the Deans and Chapters incensed thereby. Of his other works--such as the overtures 'In the South' and 'Cockaigne,' the 'Pomp and Circumstance' marches, the two enormous Symphonies, the Violin Concerto, and the oratorios 'The Kingdom' and 'The Apostles'--it is not possible to speak here in detail. All Elgar's work is characterized by great sincerity and purity of intention. He is an ample master both of harmony and counterpoint; while his sense of orchestral decoration is astonishing. One must in fairness add that he has often been charged with a certain indecision and melodic indefiniteness. These are perhaps national traits; and the gravamen of this charge may be lightened as Teutonic standards of judgment become less and less generally enforced.

Before leaving this group of composers we must mention the fact--already hinted at--that their general education and social level is undoubtedly high as compared with that of their predecessors. This point need not be elaborated. But its effect is seen in the publication of various volumes dealing with the æsthetic and historical sides of music. Of these, Hubert Parry's two great volumes on 'Johann Sebastian Bach' and 'Style in Musical Art' are easily first. Only second to them is the same author's work on 'The Seventeenth Century' contributed to the 'Oxford History of Music.' And he has three or four others to his credit. Stanford has published two delightful books of memoirs and a short treatise on 'Musical Composition.' Frederick Corder, besides a considerable list of compositions, has produced three volumes, of which the best-known is 'The Orchestra and How to Write for It.' The awakening taste for musical study at this period can perhaps be best appreciated by considering the wide popularity of Ebenezer Prout's dry, stubborn volumes on musical technique.

Finally, in order to complete the list of names associated with this movement, one must add John Stainer and George Martin, both of St. Paul's Cathedral; Walter Parratt, the distinguished 'Master of the King's Musick'; and Frederick Bridge of Westminster Abbey. Of the dozen men named above ten received titles from the Sovereign.

III

The members of the second and third groups shared with Elgar the advantages of much improved musical conditions. After twenty-five years' hard work the older generation of composers had educated the country to a wider, deeper, and purer appreciation of music. They had even arrived at a tacit understanding with their countrymen that an Englishman might, under certain conditions, be able to compose. Of this understanding their pupils took immediate advantage. Let us see of what these improved conditions consisted.

In 1880, outside the provincial church festivals, orchestral opportunity for the English composer meant a few concerts conducted by August Manns at the Crystal Palace and a few more given by the London Philharmonic Society. To-day there is a larger number of first-class orchestral players in London than in any other city in the world.

To a large extent this is the result of the insatiable London appetite for musical comedy performed with a beauty and lavishness unknown in America. For the orchestral player who cannot live by symphony work alone can live by symphony and theatre work combined. The number of orchestras both metropolitan and provincial has thus increased enormously. The percentage of English works played has also increased, though there is still room for some improvement in that respect.

In London alone there are, besides the Covent Garden Orchestra--the Royal Philharmonic, the Queen's Hall,[78] the London Symphony, the New Symphony, and the Beecham. All of these can and do tackle successfully the most modern music. A certain number of excellent amateur orchestras, such as the Royal Amateur, the Stock Exchange, and the Strolling Players, testify to a wide interest in this form of music. Outside London there are permanent orchestras at such places as Bournemouth, Brighton, Glasgow, Harrogate, Liverpool, Manchester, and Torquay.

Among conductors who have at one time or other interested themselves in English music may be mentioned Henry J. Wood, Granville Bantock, Godfrey, Thomas Beecham, Balfour Gardiner, Landon Ronald. And this leaves out of account the theatrical conductors, the older musicians most of whom have conducted either at the Royal Philharmonic or at some provincial festival, and the conductors of choral societies, such as George Riseley, Frederick Bridge, Allen Gill, Henry Coward, and Arthur Fagge.

The second point which calls for notice is the folk-song movement, which has forced composers to reconsider some of the fundamentals of their art and at the same time has furnished them with a mass of material on which to work. We must remember that, from the early middle ages until the present day, the traditional music of Europe (folk-song) has continued to flow in a sort of underground stream, while the written or professional music has been the main official waterway. The two have constantly joined their currents, and at times the underground stream has actually been in advance of the river overhead.

The important point is that, in England and Ireland at any rate, the folk-song, orally transmitted, has practically evolved as a _separate_ art-form with its own ways and means of expression. And the outstanding feature of the movement is the recognition of this art-form as a thing of beauty, of vitality, and of necessity to the nation. One might make a very fair division of English composers into those who do not use folk-tunes, those who do for cheque-book reasons, and those who do because they must.

In England the missioners of this movement came only just in time. When they visited the country and seaboard towns of such counties as Norfolk and Somerset they found the art of folk-singing unknown except to the oldest inhabitants. Luckily, however, these sturdy grandfathers kept in their minds a great treasure of folk-song, and it was from their lips that our present collections were made. With this work the name of Cecil Sharp will always be honorably joined. There is now very little chance of folk-song dying, but, as everywhere else, the genuine folk-singer is practically extinct.

Irish folk-song has been the subject of conscious literary enquiry for nearly two hundred years. And this is not to be wondered at when we consider that, of all folk-song, it is first in musical charm, variety, and depth of poetical feeling. In this department the most important recent contribution by far is Stanford's monumental edition of the complete 'Petrie Collection'; but, besides that, he has restored and arranged Moore's 'Irish Melodies' and has published two volumes containing altogether eighty Irish songs and ballads with accompaniments. Both in Wales and Scotland there has been a similar but less important activity.

Before concluding this hasty sketch of the English folk-song movement we must point out that its effect on English composition was only gradually felt. The men of the second group had been too strictly trained in the tradition of the elders to feel quite comfortable under the new dispensation. They acknowledged but evaded its power. Their successors, on the other hand, viewed it, not as a curious archæological discovery, but as a living spring from which they could draw their vitality.

The two most eminent names in the second group of composers are undoubtedly Frederic Delius (b. 1863) and Granville Bantock (b. 1868).

The former was born in Bradford, lived for some time in the United States, and finally after long residence and marriage in France became almost a foreigner. Blessed with abundant means, he has always been able 'to cherish his genius' and let the world go hang. When he reappeared in England it was as a solitary stranger unknown even by name to his co-evals. And this sudden reappearance on the wave-crest of a vigorous English propaganda was not made the subject of loud-voiced enthusiasms. His brilliant talents excited a perverse misunderstanding; and he had to live down a certain sore opposition from his contemporaries, many of whom had for years been struggling in the Cave of Æolus to blow up the very wind that sent him into harbor. These are happily things of past history, and he is now accepted by the world as a tone-poet of great power and originality. Of his works--most of which owe their present popularity to the exertions of his friend Thomas Beecham--one may note 'Paris,' 'Brigg Fair,' 'Appalachia,' 'Seadrift,' 'Dance Rhapsody,' and his great 'Mass of Life.' Of his operas, neither 'Koanga' nor 'A Village Romeo and Juliet' seems to have made a pronounced success.

[Illustration: Modern British Composers:]

Sir G. Hubert H. Parry Sir Arthur Sullivan Granville Bantock Sir Edward Elgar

Bantock is a man of quite another kidney. The son of a London doctor, he has always exerted himself for the benefit of his fellow countrymen. In his younger days as conductor of the New Brighton Orchestra he devoted himself largely to the performance of English music. The present writer, among many others, has to acknowledge that his first chance was offered him by Bantock. At the present time he wields great influence as head of the Midland School of Music at Birmingham. Bantock's work is characterized by fluent expression and vivid coloring. His early experiences have given him an almost uncanny touch in the orchestra. Perhaps no one knows better than he how to 'score heavily' by 'scoring lightly.' In his choice of subjects he leans somewhat toward the exotic and oriental. From his long list of compositions it is only possible to select the orchestral works 'Sappho,' the 'Pierrot of the Minute,' 'The Witch of Atlas,' 'Fifine at the Fair'; and his vocal-and-orchestral works 'Omar Khayyám,' 'The Fire Worshippers,' the six sets of 'Songs of the East,' and the nine 'Sappho' fragments.

* * * * *

Hamish MacCunn (b. 1868) and Edward German (b. 1868),[79] the one a Scot and the other a Welshman, are both more particularly identified with the theatre. MacCunn's early orchestral poems, such as 'The Land of the Mountain and the Flood' and 'The Ship o' the Fiend,' at once brought him wide recognition. Their fine poetical qualities are well known. A large portion of his time, however, has been devoted to operatic conducting and composition. In the latter field he has to his credit such works as 'Jennie Deans' and 'Diarmid.' But, though MacCunn is known to all as an able, brilliant musician, he has had to pay the penalty of his association with that musical Cinderella, English Opera.

German, on the other hand, though never aiming at the sun, has once or twice hit a star. He succeeded Sullivan at the Savoy and made successes with 'The Emerald Isle,' 'Merrie England,' 'A Princess of Kensington,' and elsewhere with 'Tom Jones.' His incidental music to 'Henry VIII' and 'Nell Gwyn' has been liked into dislike. But German has done a great deal more than this. No account of him would be complete that did not mention his 'Welsh Rhapsody,' his 'Rhapsody on March Themes,' his 'Gypsy Suite,' and his 'Overture to Richard III.'

There is no denying the power, the wide ability, or the technical resource of Ethel Mary Smyth. Judged by her music alone one would say that she was only the _nom de guerre_ of a strong masculine personality saturated with Teutonism. This, however, is only a pleasing fancy. As a fact, the terrific earnestness of her music could never have come from the brain of a mere man. Opera is her stronghold, and her greatest victory therein a fine Cornish drama, 'The Wreckers.'

Neither Walford Davies nor Charles Wood has produced music in great quantity. Both have led somewhat secluded lives; the one as organist of The Temple, and the other as a Cambridge don.

Davies is a man of fastidious taste, a first-class organist and contrapuntist, and a profound student of Bach, Browning, and The Bible. It is said that his coy muse sometimes furls her pinions at the approach of a too red-blooded humanity. However that may be, she has inspired him with at least one subtle and delicately beautiful work, 'Everyman.'

Charles Wood is an Irishman from Armagh, a fine scholarly musician and probably the best all-round theorist in the country. He has a strong interest in the folk-song of his native land and has written a set of orchestral variations on the tune, 'Patrick Sarsfield.' One of his best things is his string quartet in A minor. In the realm of choral music his 'Ballad of Dundee' may be selected for mention. He has at any rate one great song to his credit--'Ethiopia saluting the colors.'

Arthur Hinton's (b. 1869) work, which is appreciated on both sides of the Atlantic, includes some elaborate pianoforte music, a two-act opera, 'Tamara,' a couple of symphonies, the orchestral suite 'Endymion,' and a good deal of chamber music. His compositions are characteristic of the group to which he belongs. A certain delight in clean, finished workmanship and an incisiveness of expression are their main features.

Arthur Somervell has been throughout his life one of the standard-bearers of the English revival. And he has kept the banner flying both by his enthusiasm for folk-music and by his own compositions. His graceful, refined songs are sung and liked everywhere. Of these perhaps the best known is his cycle from Tennyson's 'Maud.' Among his larger works one may mention his 'Normandy' variations for pianoforte and orchestra and his recent symphony 'Thalassa.' For some years past Somervell has been the official mainspring which keeps the clock of elementary musical education ticking.

One of the most admirable features of the later phases in the English musical renaissance is the quickened and deepened interest shown both in English musical history and in the general topic of musical æsthetics. For the first time since the days of Hawkins and Burney investigators have begun an elaborate search in college, cathedral, and secular libraries. The existence of a vast store of madrigals, of church and instrumental music was scarcely suspected even by professional musicians; and the treasure when unearthed came as a revelation to musical England.

In the field of musical æsthetics there has been an equally remarkable

## activity. And it is noteworthy that a number of men who have devoted

their lives to purely musical composition have also produced elaborate studies either of the technique, the history, or the psychology of their art. Of these we may name six: Wallace, McEwen, Walker, Tovey, Macpherson, and Buck.

William Wallace is, like MacCunn, a Scot from Greenock. His mental growth had its roots in the stiff classical sub-soil of a public school, and then pushed its way up through the rocks of a university medical course till it flowered in the sweet open air of the R.A.M. composition class. Hence his mind, which almost needs the threefold pormanteau-word 'musiterific' to describe it. Wallace was the first Englishman to write a symphonic poem, and he has made this form something of a specialty. The best known of his six are 'The Passing of Beatrice' and 'Villon.' Of these the latter has been played everywhere, and the present writer has had to satisfy more than one puzzled American enquirer as to how the author of 'Maritana'[80] could possibly have written it! Some of Wallace's songs, for instance 'Son o' Mine,' have acquired a popularity in England almost too great for public comfort. In the field of literature he has produced two remarkable studies in the development of the musical sense--'The Threshold of Music' and 'The Musical Faculty.'

John Blackwood McEwen is, like Wallace, a Scotsman. Furthermore he has the same mental and physical homes--Glasgow University, the R.A.M., and London. He has produced much symphonic and chamber music all characterized by a severe self-criticism, impeccable workmanship, and at times a certain Scottish exaltation. His quartets in A minor and C minor are excellent. Of his symphonic poems the border ballad 'Grey Galloway' can hold up its head in any company. He is an untiring enquirer into musical fundamentals and, of his five published volumes, the most valuable is 'The Thought in Music.'

Both Ernest Walker and Donald Francis Tovey are university men. The former, who is organist of Balliol College, Oxford, has been much applauded for his songs and chamber music. He has also rendered great and lasting service by his admirable 'History of Music in England.'

Tovey--the distinguished occupant of the Reid Chair of Music in Edinburgh--is a sort of musical Francis Bacon. Few of the English tales as to his learning and memory would be believed if printed in America. The most credible is that he is able to play the sketch-books of Beethoven by heart. His pamphlets of severely analytical criticism have, in a way, set a new standard in this kind; while his work in connection with the eleventh edition of the 'Encyclopædia Britannica' has had the happiest results. Though a very able theorist and historian, Tovey is by no means that alone. He has written a good deal of chamber music, a concerto for pianoforte and orchestra and, one hears, an opera. It is difficult to place these works. Some of the older musicians have hailed them as greatly instinct with the spirit of Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms, while some of the younger men have catalogued them rather as compilations from those three masters. The composer's own views, throwing a terrific weight onto his isolated notes and phrases, seem to make of music a burden almost too heavy to bear. However this may be, it is quite certain that Tovey has not yet shot his last bolt.

With Stewart Macpherson and Percy C. Buck we may close this list of composer-authors. The former, in addition to a considerable amount of published music, has printed ten volumes, mostly on the technique of composition: the latter, besides his music, has written two valuable works--'The Organ' and 'The First Year at the Organ.' Naturally the greater part of the literary work in connection with this movement has been done by scholars who are not themselves composers. Most of these men have been in close touch with the leaders of the renaissance; but, even when their work has been purely archæological, it has, so to speak, cleft the rock and released a fountain of inspiration for their creative brethren.

Henry Davey's 'History of English Music' is a pioneer work embodying the results of long and patient research. Its combative determination to claim honor for the honorable is beyond praise. A similar work, less scholarly but equally patriotic, is Ernest Ford's 'Short History of Music in England.' Barclay Squire (of the British Museum), has, with his brother-in-law J. A. Fuller Maitland, done much to revive the national pride in Purcell and to spread an accurate knowledge of the earlier Elizabethan and Jacobean composers. Fuller Maitland himself, apart from his claims as editor of 'Grove' (2d ed.) and as a contributor to the 'Oxford History of Music,' always used his distinguished position at _The Times_ to further the best interests of English music. To this list we may add the names of three other scholar-musicians all associated with the 'Oxford History of Music': W. H. Hadow, the brilliant editor of the work and at present principal of the Armstrong College; H. E. Wooldridge; and (the late) Edward Dannreuther, whose life-span stretched from personal contact with Richard Wagner to patient and sympathetic intercourse with the youngest school of English musicians.

In the special field of instrumental construction and development we have Rev. F. W. Galpin, with his scholarly and delightful volume 'Old English Instruments of Music,' and Kathleen Schlesinger. Of Miss Schlesinger's painstaking and accurate scholarship her country has by no means made the acknowledgment it deserves.

In the realm of more general musical æsthetics and criticism many names might be mentioned. We must content ourselves with those of Ernest Newman, whose profound works on 'Gluck' and 'Wagner' are discussed everywhere, and E. J. Dent, who has studied certain phases of Mozart's work and has published a classical volume on 'Scarlatti.'

Though it is somewhat outside our special topic, some reference must be made here to the English researches into Greek music. For the first time since the Germans began to inspissate the gloom, a ray or two of light has been allowed to fall upon this difficult subject. In

## particular D. B. Monro, with his volume 'The Modes of Ancient Greek

Music,' has shown that it is not an essential of this study that the reader should always have the sensation of swimming in glue. Since his day Cecil Torr has published a clever work on the same topic; while H. S. Macran and Abdy Williams have both written on Aristoxenus.

This concludes the list of original writers, but, before leaving the subject, a word must be spared for the vast improvement that has appeared during the past few years in the translation of foreign musical texts into English. The value of the work of such men as Claude Aveling, Frederick Jameson, and Paul England can only be appreciated by a comparison of their translations with those of their predecessors. One may add that there is now a persistent cry in the London press for fine English finely sung, and this demand--though not always gratified--is kept before the public by such patriotic critics as Robin Legge, Edwin Evans, and Henry Cope Colles.

Finally, before passing on to the third group, we may here conveniently place together the small band of theatrical composers who have succeeded Sullivan. Musical comedy and the money that comes from writing it are the very sour grapes of the average English symphonist. One and all they applaud what they call 'genuine comic opera' (meaning Offenbach or anyone else that is _old_ and _dead_), but decry its much brighter, cleaner, and more musical descendant. The ludicrous snobbery of English life draws a wide black line between the two classes of composer; and the stupidest Mus. Doc. that ever drowned a choir would probably rather have his daughter run off with the butler than marry a musical comedy composer. Nine times out of ten the theatrical man's revenge is that it is he and not the Mus. Doc. that has the butler. For, even under present conditions, the theatre alone in England offers a composer-conductor the chance of an honorable livelihood.

During Sullivan's lifetime he and Gilbert _were_ comic opera; and, though the Savoy cap was tried on such diversely shaped heads as A. C. Mackenzie, Ernest Ford, Edward Soloman, and J. M. Barrie, it never really fitted any of them. Cellier alone--brother of Sullivan's conductor--made a success (elsewhere) with his charming work, 'Dorothy.' We have already mentioned that, after Sir Arthur's death, German completed his unfinished opera, 'The Emerald Isle,' and continued to employ his easy brilliant talents in that field. A later attempt to run a miniature grand opera, written by an Italian (Franco Leoni) but sung in English, was defeated by the two gods of fog, musical and meteorological.

Toward the end of the century theatre-land began to shift westward and northward into the Piccadilly Circus and Shaftesbury Avenue district. The new form of entertainment came into its own, and--if one may quote the words of an eminent Russian violinist--'Musical comedy at Daly's became the top-thing.' Of the men who have been providing the music for the London theatres we may mention four--Jones, Monckton, Talbot, and Rubens.

Sidney Jones's music has been played all the world over. In 'The Geisha,' 'San Toy,' and many other works he has had the opportunity of exercising his delicate taste and his really very musical mind. He has written more than one extended finale that is a comic opera masterpiece; while the alternate sparkle and quaint tenderness of his melodies are quite irresistible.

Of recent years Lionel Monckton has had the biggest finger in the musical comedy pie. And deservedly so. He owes his present distinguished position mainly to his inexhaustible fund of original melody. Many of these tunes are, in their way, perfect. Their special excellence is lightness, vigor, rhythmic variety and constructional power. If the present writer were subpœnaed before the Court of the Muses to give evidence as to the best tunes made in the past fifteen years he would testify, among others, for Monckton. The Folk-Song Society of 2500 will probably explain him as a solar-myth.

Howard Talbot[81] and Paul Rubens may be bracketed together. The former, though a New Yorker born, has lived his musical life in London. And his charming talent is shown in the many works of which he is either whole-or part-author. Of these the most popular are perhaps 'A Chinese Honeymoon,' 'The Arcadians,' and 'The Mousmé.' Rubens may be specially noticed for his Sullivanesque power of associating his music intimately with his literary text. Not that his music has anything in common with Sullivan's. But the special faculty of making the two things appear one is common to both composers. Rubens nearly always writes his own lyrics and thus, in a delightful manner, revives and vindicates the theory and practice of Greek poetic composition.

IV

With the turn of the century the folk-song movement had sunk deep into the English mind, where it still rests as an anchor for many of their hopes. Accordingly in this period we find men, like Vaughan Williams, who either base their music entirely on actual folk-song or invent tunes in close spiritual alliance with its ideals. In either case the result is a genuine development of folk-music. On the technical side this group is marked by a much more decided tendency to refuse the highly organized German technique as necessary to its salvation. This again is largely due to an open-minded reconsideration of musical æsthetics, forced upon composers by the special harmonic and melodic features of folk-song. The matter is too large for discussion here; but it is satisfactory to note that more than one Englishman who passed through his student-days with the reputation of a wrong-headed jackass has been able to base his honor on his alleged stupidities.

During recent years there is some change to be noted in the material side of English musical conditions. Apparently there is less love for the oratorio; and therefore less scope for writing it. This symptom of musical life is common to America and England. It is easy to diagnose the reasons. In England they are two: first, on the part of the audience, the dislike of prolonged boredom; and, second, on the part of the composer, an indignant hatred of the organized corruption associated with choral music. The latter point cannot be dealt with here, though it is a common theme of talk among English composers. The musician's compensation is to be found in the extraordinary system of 'choral competitions' and 'festivals' which now honeycomb England with their sweetness. These, beginning with Miss Wakefield's celebrated gathering in Cumberland, have spread all over the country and now offer composers large opportunities for the performance of part-songs and the smaller sort of choral works. The best and highest aims of these English festivals are summarized for Americans in the 'Norfolk Festival' of the Litchfield County Choral Union founded by Mr. and Mrs. Stoeckel to honor the memory of Robbins Battell.

On the side of actual orchestral opportunity the English composer of to-day is undoubtedly more favored than his American brother. There are more orchestras there; and they are more ready to do native works. The conditions are not perfect by any means, but they are better there than here. As far as the publication of serious music goes the English composer's position is hopelessly bad. He has to contend against ignorance, apathy, and a short-sighted financial timidity far beyond American credence. In addition to that he often has to fight hard against his own seniors who--themselves comfortably off--deny that music, when written, has any commercial existence. A certain London firm, in order to encourage its poorer and younger clientèle to take example thereby, continually cites the readiness of one of its older wealthy composers to take $25 for a choral work. Words can go no further.

It is unnecessary to specify the names of the great English publishing houses which have associated themselves with the English revival. Suffice it to say that they have always been at hand, ready to lighten the burden and the pocket of the composer. But it would not be fair to ignore the firm of Stainer and Bell, which was founded--under a directorate of distinguished musicians--with the prime object of dealing honorably with the composer. The existence of this firm is, in its way, a landmark; or rather a lighthouse for composers who have long had to beat up in the straits of chicanery and dishonesty. Nor must we omit to mention the present extended activity of the Society of Authors. Though founded by Sir Walter Besant some fifty years ago for the special protection of literary men, it has recently formed a sub-committee of composers under the chairmanship of Sir Charles V. Stanford. It is now known as The Society of Authors, Playwrights, and Composers and, among the last-named workers, has already done valuable service.

The number of composers who might be mentioned in this group is, of course, very large. Now that music has almost risen to the level of golf and horse-racing as a national pastime, it employs the brains of many. The list, we fear, must be ruthlessly pruned. But it will be pruned so as to leave the more prominent branches and even some of the buds visible to the American reader. Of his charity he may be asked to surmise what the author well knows, that some young Englishmen of great original powers are forced by circumstance to spend their days in teaching little girls the fiddle, while others who scarcely condescend below grand opera might just as well be employed on some wholly uninspired task--such as the writing of these pages.

Ralph Vaughan Williams--though he is the most characteristically English of this group--is a Welshman. Large both in body and mind, he has always kept before himself and his fellows a singularly noble ideal. It may safely be said of him that he has never trimmed his course even half a point from what he considered his duty. The music that comes from this simple and courageous mind is naturally of the most earnest--perhaps a little awkward at times, but always deeply sincere. His aims and his outlook are peculiarly national. Let us try to exemplify this. To a fresh-water people like the Americans the attempts of Rubinstein, Wagner, and others to illustrate 'the sea' in music may not appear particularly unsuccessful: to a sea-loving race like the English they are simply puny and ridiculous. Williams has taken this subject, and, in his choral 'Sea Symphony' (words by Walt Whitman), has actually caught up the sounds of the sea as the English hear them. This is a new and a great achievement. Again in his 'London' symphony he has somehow managed to express in sound a thing not hitherto expressed--the poetry both tragic and comic which dwells in that most wonderful of all towns. In Williams's larger works there is always, quite apart from their actual length, something vast, shadowy, and almost primeval. His landscape is always bathed in a pearly, translucent haze. The subjects loom up and disappear with a suddenness natural in England but unnatural elsewhere. It is as if a Turner canvas had been translated into sound. Of Williams's other works, many of which are directly inspired by the folk-music of which he is an ardent collector, one may mention the orchestral 'Norfolk Rhapsodies,' 'In the Fen Country,' 'Harnham Down,' and 'Boldrewood'; the 'Five Mystical Songs' for baritone, chorus, and orchestra; the beautiful cantata 'Willow-wood' for baritone, female chorus, and orchestra; the six songs, 'On Wenlock Edge,' for tenor voice, string quartet, and pianoforte; and, last, his music to 'The Wasps.'

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875-1912) and William Young Hurlstone (1876-1906) both died while still young. The one was an African, the other a pure Englishman. Both died leaving an example to their friends of modesty and cultured simplicity. As far as technique went they could probably have both given Vaughan Williams ninety yards start in a hundred and beaten him. But, in any more serious race, the handicap would probably have had to be reversed. Their sailing-orders as students were perhaps merely to keep the ship's head on Beethoven and Brahms. But, in the case of Taylor, the powerful lode-stone of Dvořák's genius spoilt the compass-readings and drew his ship nearer and nearer to 'the coast of Bohemia.' Of his work the best-known by far is his 'Hiawatha,' the first performance of which at the R.C.M. was heard by at least three members of the first group of composers--Sullivan, Stanford, and Parry. After 'Hiawatha' may be mentioned his cantata 'A Tale of Old Japan,' his 'Bamboula Rhapsodic Dance' (written for Norfolk, Conn.), and his violin 'Ballade' and 'Concerto.' In Hurlstone's case a constant physical weakness prevented the true development of his really great musical powers. The best of his refined work is found in his sonatas, trios, and quartets. Most of these have been or are now being published in London.

Joseph Holbrooke (b. 1878) is from the land of Cockaigne. His purposeful character and his invincible habit of saying in public what most composers only think in private have made him the _enfant terrible_ of London musical life. In output, energy, and material-command he is probably unsurpassed by any living composer. A strong, blistering style and a constant determination to call his 16-inch guns into action have procured for him many (musical) enemies. He is blessed with a great sense of humor and a very complete knowledge of the way to express it in music. His orchestral variations on 'Three Blind Mice' should be played everywhere. Holbrooke has enjoyed very exceptional opportunities in the way of dramatic performance and full-score publication. This is not to be regretted; especially when one considers the usual disadvantages of the English composer under these two heads. He has written a large quantity of songs and chamber music--some of it for the most curious combinations.[82] Among his larger works one may select his operas 'The Children of Don' and 'Dylan'; his 'Queen Mab' and 'The Bells'; and his 'illuminated' choral symphony 'Apollo and the Seaman.'

Percy Grainger (b. 1883)--pianist, composer, arranger, friend of Grieg, etc.--comes from Australia; and, if that country had not produced him, the concert-agents of the world would have had to invent him. His playing is wonderful. He never writes a dull note, and he ranges from the Faroe Islands to the Antipodes. He crosses no sea but as a conqueror. Folk-song is his battleship and quaint diatonic harmony his submarine. 'Molly on the Shore,' 'Father and Daughter,' 'Mock Morris,' 'Händel in the Strand,' and 'I'm Seventeen Come Sunday' all attest the 'certain liveliness' of his very happy gifts. He has been applauded by thousands and sketched by Sargent. What he will do next nobody knows--but it is sure to be successful.

Cyril Scott[83] was born, apparently, in the 'Yellow Book.' His slim Beardsleyesque nature seems to be always moving through an elegant exotic shadow-world, beckoned on by his own craving yet fastidious mind. At Pagani's he sits mysteriously in a black stock and cameo. A strange personality, distinguished and uneasy! Certain crippling theories of rhythm and development have at times bent the flight of his muse. His 'Aubade,' Pianoforte Concerto, and Ballad for baritone and orchestra, 'Helen of Kirkconnell,' are notable.

Gustav von Holst[84] for all his name, is English born and bred. Skegness gave him to the world: he has all the energy and tenacity of the east-coast man. The main features of his music are an extremely modern and comprehensive method of handling his subjects, great warmth and variety of orchestral color, and (occasionally it must be confessed) excessive length. His successes have been striking and well deserved. Among his best-known productions are his Moorish work 'In the Street of the Ouled Nails,'[85] his orchestral suites 'Phantastes,' and 'de Ballet,' and (more particularly) his elaborate vocal and orchestral works, such as 'The Cloud Messenger' and 'The Mystic Trumpeter.' A large part of von Holst's time has been given to the composition of Hindu opera on a vast scale; and, as we have already hinted, composers who take up opera in England have to pay penalties. Among others who have been mulcted in this way are Nicholas Gatty (with three operas, 'Greysteel,' 'Duke or Devil,' and 'The Tempest'); Rutland Boughton (with his scheme of open-air choral drama on the Arthurian legends); J. E. Barkworth (with 'Romeo and Juliet' set directly to Shakespeare's text); George Clutsam, Colin McAlpin, and Alec Maclean.

Norman O'Neill and Balfour Gardiner may be honorably mentioned as among the very few young English composers who ever picture the Goddess of Music as not swathed in crêpe. O'Neill's compositions are manifold. Among the most successful are his capital numbers written as incidental music to 'The Blue Bird.' Gardiner has a shorter list, but all his works have a delightfully boyish and open-air spirit. We may mention his orchestral pieces 'English Dance,' 'Overture to a Comedy,' and 'Shepherd Fennel's Dance.'

One of the most prominent traits in the musical make-up of the young English composer is his persistent cry for loud, complex orchestral expression. Holbrooke was the one who started him on this trail; and now his constant prayer seems to be:

'_O mihi si linguæ centum sint, oraque centum._'

Above this school Frank Bridge (b. 1879) stands head and shoulders. What the others do well he does better; and, if they ever attempt to follow him there, he always has a 'best' waiting for them. Though he is quite unknown outside England, one has no hesitation in saying that his superior as a plastic orchestral artist would be hard to find. Among his best works are his three orchestral impressions of 'The Sea,' his two 'Dance Rhapsodies,' and his beautiful symphonic poem 'Isabella.' In chamber music he has been very successful, more especially in the 'Fancy' or 'Phantasy' form recently revived in England. His 'Three Idylls' for string quartet are both charming and distinguished.

Round Bridge's name may be grouped, for convenience of placing, the names of York Bowen, who has written everything from symphonies and sonatas to a waltz on Strauss's _Ein Heldenleben_; A. E. T. Bax, whose activities are in some measure the musical counterpart of the 'Celtic twilight' school of poetry; W. H. Bell, the author of 'Mother Cary' and the 'Walt Whitman' symphony; Hamilton Harty, whose 'Comedy Overture,' 'With the Wild Geese,' and 'The Mystic Trumpeter' are all much played in England; and Hubert Bath. To the last-named composer we English owe a debt for his constant refusal to worship the muse with a cypress-branch. His gay, sprightly choral ballads, such as 'The Wedding of Shon Maclean' and 'The Jackdaw of Rheims,' bring him friends wherever they are heard. Bath has also made a specialty of accompanied recitation-music. He has produced nearly two dozen of these pieces; but in this field Stanley Hawley with his fifty-one published compositions easily leads the way. Almost all the musicians mentioned in this paragraph have been before the public at some time or other as conductors. Harty and Bridge in particular have shown themselves to be possessed of very strong gifts in this line.

It is perhaps premature to criticize the very latest swarms of orchestral composers that have issued from the musical bee-hives of London. Certain of them, however, show considerable promise and, in some cases, a rather alarming tendency to soar after the queen-bees of continental hives. This they will probably outgrow as their summer days increase. Among the most recent to try their wings are P. R. Kirby (a Scotsman from Aberdeen), Eugène Goosens, Jr. (with his symphonic poem 'Perseus'), and Oskar Borsdorf (with his dramatic fantasy 'Glaucus and Ione').

Among the members of the third group who have shown special excellence in the realm of chamber music B. J. Dale stands preëminent. The first performance of his big sonata in D minor made musical London hold its breath. He has written a great deal of music for the viola (as discovered by Lionel Tertis), and has even defied fate by composing a work for six violas. Dale's powers are very great, and he has probably a good deal to say yet. Richard Walthew and T. F. Dunhill have both an honorable record in chamber music. Both, too, have written on the topic. The former, who, is also a prolific song-writer, has published a volume on 'The Development of Chamber Music'; while the latter, in addition to his many-sided activities, has produced a tactful treatise for students entitled 'Chamber Music.' To the list of those who are specially devoted to this form of composition one may add the names of J. N. Ireland and James Friskin, neither of whom has yet had an opportunity adequate to his undoubted talents.

Naturally, at all times there has been a considerable literature of organ music in England. Almost all the composers mentioned above have written for the instrument. But, among those more specially identified with it and with church music, are W. Wolstenholme, who has more than sixty published compositions; Ernest Halsley, also with a long list; Lemare, whose transcriptions are so well known; T. Tertius Noble; C. B. Rootham; and Alan Gray. James Lyon, the Liverpool organist, has a lengthy record of the most varied sort, from orchestral, vocal, and organ works to church services and technical treatises. A. M. Goodhart, of Eton, has a similar weighty basketful. He has made a specialty of the 'choral ballad.'

We have already given the names of many English song writers. Here there are two groups of Richmonds in the field; those who write for the shop-ballad public, and those who do not. Most of the 'do nots' have naturally already been dealt with among the more serious composers; though the two spheres of activity by no means always coincide. The following short list--covering practically three generations--includes some of both sorts, but excludes the names of composers already mentioned: Stephen Adams, Frances Allitsen, Robert Batten, A. von Ahn Carse, Coningsby Clarke, Eric Coates, Noel Johnson, Frank Lambert, Liza Lehmann, Herman Löhr, Daisy McGeoch, Alicia A. Needham, Montague Phillips, John Pointer, Roger Quilter, Landon Ronald (principal of the Guildhall School of Music), Wilfred Sanderson, W. H. Squire, Hope Temple, Maude V. White, Haydn Wood, and Amy Woodforde-Finden.

Before closing this highly compressed sketch of the English musical renaissance an apology must be made for a double omission. First, the whole subject of English opera has been ignored as too complex and difficult for treatment. The activities of Carl Rosa, Moody-Manners, Beecham, and others have therefore to be left almost unnoticed. Second, no list has been attempted of the many fine executants produced by England in the past generation. In actual accomplishment some of these have been second to none in the world; though unfortunately their connection with the men of the English revival has often been slight or non-existent. On the other hand, some of the first of these artists have stood, and do now stand, in a very close relationship with the composers. And this mutual sympathy has often had happy results. One can scarcely imagine Stanford's Irish songs without Mr. Plunket Greene to sing them.

The reader who has travelled so far with the author should have by now a fairly clear idea of musical conditions and achievements on the other side. It is hoped that he will not regard his experiences merely as a forty-five-years' sojourn 'in darkest England.' He can take the writer's word for it that there is plenty of light shining there. But, what with the fogs in the North Sea, the Channel, and the Atlantic, the rays seldom get beyond the coastguard.

C. F.

FOOTNOTES:

[77] Out of the very small group of living English opera librettists one is a duke and two are barons--Argyll, Howard de Walden, and Latymer. A strange transformation in the national attitude towards music!

[78] The amount of work done by some of the English orchestras may be gauged from the fact that during the first nine months of the present European war the Queen's Hall Orchestra gave 112 concerts.

[79] Born German Edward Jones.

[80] By _Vincent_ Wallace.

[81] Born Munkittrick.

[82] For instance, a serenade for five saxophones, soprano _flügelhorn_, baritone _flügelhorn_, _oboe d'amore_, _corno di bassetto_, and harp.

[83] B. Oxton, Cheshire.

[84] B. Cheltenham, 1874.

[85] In Biskra, a street of dancing and singing girls belonging to the Walad-Nail tribe.

GENERAL LITERATURE FOR VOLUMES I, II, AND III

_In English_

A. W. AMBROS: The Boundaries of Music and Poetry (New York, 1893).

W. F. APTHORP: Musicians and Music Lovers (New York, 1897).

O. B. BOISE: Music and its Masters (Phila., 1902).

CHARLES BURNEY: A General History of Music (London, 1776).

ROBERT CHALLONER: History of the Science and Art of Music (Cincinnati, 1880).

W. CHAPPELL: History of Music (London, 1874).

F. J. CROWEST: Story of the Art of Music (New York, 1902).

EDWARD DICKINSON: The Study of the History of Music (New York, 1905).

EDWARD DICKINSON: Guide to the Study of Musical History and Criticism (Oberlin, 1895).

JOSEPH GODDARD: The Rise of Music from Primitive Beginnings to Modern Effects (London, 1908).

Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 5 vols. (new ed., London, 1904-10).

W. H. HADOW: Studies in Modern Music, 2 vols. (New York, 1892-3).

JOHN HAWKINS: General History of the Science and Practice of Music (1776, new ed. 1853).

JOHN HULLAH: Lectures on the History of Modern Music (London, 1875).

BONAVIA HUNT: History of Music (New York, 1891).

A. LAVIGNAC: Music and Musicians (transl. by Marchant, New York, 1905).

The Oxford History of Music, 6 vols. (Oxford, 1901, 1905, 1902, 1902, 1904, 1905).

C. H. H. PARRY: Evolution of the Art of Music (4th ed., 1905).

H. RIEMANN: Catechism of Musical History, 2 vols. (Eng. transl., London, 1888).

W. S. ROCKSTRO: A General History of Music (1886).

J. S. ROWBOTHAM: A History of Music (London, 1885).

ALFREDO UNTERSTEINER: Short History of Music, Eng. transl. by Very (New York, 1902).

_In German_

A. W. AMBROS: Geschichte der Musik (Breslau, 1862-1882); new ed. by H. Leichtentritt, 4 vols. (Leipzig, 1909).

R. W. A. BATKA: Allgemeine Geschichte der Musik (Stuttgart, 1911).

KARL FRANZ BRENDEL: Grundzüge der Geschichte der Musik (7th ed., Leipzig, 1888).

KARL FRANZ BRENDEL: Geschichte der Musik in Italien, Deutschland und Frankreich (Leipzig, 1860).

ROBERT EITNER: Quellenlexikon der Musiker (Leipzig, 1900-1903).

PAUL FRANK: Geschichte der Tonkunst (1863, 3rd ed., 1878).

NIKOLAUS FORKEL: Allgemeine Geschichte der Musik (1778-1801).

HERMANN KRETZSCHMAR: Führer durch den Konzertsaal (Leipzig, 1887-1890).

WILHELM LANGHANS: Geschichte der Musik des 17., 18., u. 19. Jahrhundert (Leipzig, 1912).

A. NAUMANN: Die Tonkunst in der Kulturgeschichte, 2 vols. (1869-70).

EMIL NAUMANN: Illustrierte Musikgeschichte (new ed. by E. Schmitz, 1913).

Peters Musikbibliothek Jahrbuch, ed. by Schwartz.

[Every volume since 1894 contains a complete (or usually complete) bibliography of books on music published in the respective year.]

A. REISSMANN: Allgemeine Geschichte der Musik, 3 vols. (1863-5).

HUGO RIEMANN: Handbuch der Musikgeschichte, 2 vols. (5 parts), (Leipzig, 1904, 1905, 1907, 1912, 1913).

HUGO RIEMANN: Musiklexikon [misc. articles], (Leipzig, 1909; new ed., 1915).

HUGO RIEMANN: Geschichte der Musiktheorie in 9.-19. Jahrhundert (1898).

KARL STORCK: Geschichte der Musik (Stuttgart, 1904).

_Die Musik_ (Berlin, Bi-weekly).

_Vierteljahrsschrift für Musikwissenschaft_ (Leipzig).

_Zeitschrift_ and _Sammelbände_ of the _Int. Mus. Ges._

_In French_

ALEXANDRE SOFIA BAWR: Histoire de la musique (Paris, 1823).

CHARLES HENRI BLAINVILLE: Histoire générale, critique et philologique de la musique (Paris, 1767).

JACQUES BONNET: Histoire de la musique, et ses effets, depuis son origine jusqu'à présent (Paris, 1715, Amsterdam, 1725).

M. BRENET: _Année musicale_.

A. BRUNEAU: Musiques d'hier et de demain (Paris, 1900).

A. E. CHORON & J. A. L. DE LAFAGE: Nouveau manuel complet de musique (Paris, 1838).

F. CLÉMENT: Histoire de la musique depuis les temps anciens jusqu'à nos jours (Paris, 1885).

JULES COMBARIEU: Histoire de la musique, des origines à la mort de Beethoven, 2 vols. (Paris, 1913).

JEAN PIERRE OSCAR COMMETTANT: La musique, les musiciens et les instruments de musique chez les différents peuples du monde (Paris, 1869).

HENRI EXPERT: Les Maîtres Musiciens de la Renaissance Française (20 vols.).

CAMILLE FAUST: Histoire de la musique européenne (Paris, 1914).

F. J. FÉTIS: Histoire générale de la musique (1869).

F. J. FÉTIS: Biographie universelle des musiciens et bibliographie générale de la musique (Brussels, 1837).

S. I. M. (Paris, Monthly).

_In Italian_

ARNALDO BONAVENTURA: Manuale di storia della musica (Livorno, 1898).

GIOVANNI ANDREA BONTEMPI: Historia musica (Perugia, 1695).

PADRE G. B. MARTINI: Storia della musica (Bologna, 1767-1770).

LUIGI TORCHI: _Arte Musicale_, 8 vols. Published irregularly.

ALFREDO UNTERSTEINER: Storia della musica (1893).

_Rivista Musicale Italiana_ (Turin, Quarterly).

N. B.--See also Special Literature for each chapter (on following pages).

SPECIAL LITERATURE FOR VOLUME I

LITERATURE FOR