LESLIE.
Henry David Leslie was born in London, June 18, 1822, and in his sixteenth year began his musical studies with Charles Lucas, a famous violoncellist and for a long time principal of the Royal Academy of Music. Like his master, Leslie played the violoncello several years in the concerts of the Sacred Harmonic Society, subsequently becoming its conductor,—a position which he held until 1861. In 1855 he organized the famous Leslie choir of one hundred voices, which took the first prize at the international competition of 1878 in Paris. In 1863 he was chosen conductor of the Herefordshire Philharmonic Society, and in the following year became principal of the National College of Music. In 1874 he was appointed conductor of the Guild of Amateur Musicians in London. He has been a prolific and very popular composer, among his works being the following: Te Deum and Jubilate in D (1846); symphony in F (1847); anthem, “Let God arise” (1849); overture, “The Templar” (1852); oratorio, “Immanuel” (1853); operetta, “Romance, or Bold Dick Turpin” (1857); oratorio, “Judith,” written for the Birmingham Festival (1858); cantata, “Holyrood” (1860); cantata, “The Daughter of the Isles” (1861); and the opera “Ida” (1864). In addition to these he has written a large number of songs, anthems, part songs, madrigals, and piano pieces, besides music for his choir.
Holyrood.
“Holyrood” was written in 1861, and was first produced in February of that year at St. James’s Hall, London. Leslie’s collaborator was the accomplished scholar Chorley, who has certainly prepared one of the most refined and attractive librettos ever furnished a composer. The story represents an episode during the period of Queen Mary’s innocent life, overshadowed in the close by the dismal prophecy of the terrible fate so rapidly approaching her. The characters are Queen Mary (soprano), Mary Beatoun (Beton), her maid of honor (contralto); Rizzio, the ill-fated minstrel (tenor); and John Knox (bass). The scene is laid in a court of the palace of Holyrood, and introduces a coterie of the court ladies and gentlemen engaged in one of those joyous revels of which Mary was so fond. In the midst of the pleasantry, however, the Queen moves pensively about, overcome with sadness, as if her thoughts were far away. Her favorite maid tries in vain to rouse her from her melancholy with a Scotch ballad. The minstrel Rizzio is then urged to try his skill. He takes his lute and sings an Italian canzonet which has the desired effect. The sensuous music of the South diverts her. She expresses her delight, and seizing his lute sings her new joy in a French romance. It is interrupted by a Puritan psalm of warning heard outside. The revellers seek to drown it; but it grows in power, and only ceases when the leader, John Knox, enters with stern and forbidding countenance. The Queen is angry at first, but bids him welcome provided his mission is a kindly one. He answers with a warning. As he has the gift of prophecy, she orders him to read her future. After the bridal, the murder of the bridegroom; after the murder, battle; after the battle, prison; after the prison, the scaffold, is the tragic fate he foresees. The enraged courtiers call for his arrest and punishment, but the light-hearted Queen bids him go free:—
“Let him go, and hear our laughter!
Mirth to-day, whate’er come after.”
The cantata opens with a chorus for female voices in three divisions, with a contralto solo, in the Scotch style:—
“The mavis carols in the shaw,
The leaves are green on every tree,
And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,
Is dropping gold on bank and lea;
The hind is merry in the mead,
The child that gathers gowan flower,
The Thane upon his prancing steed,
The high-born lady in her bower,—
Gay, gay, all are gay,
On this happy summer day.”
After a short recitative passage in which Mary Beatoun appeals to the revellers to lure the Queen from her loneliness, and their reply (“O Lady, never sit alone”), the maid sings a very characteristic and engaging Scotch ballad:—
“There once was a maiden in Melrose town
(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)
Who looked on the best in the country down,
Because she had lovers, one, two, three.
The first was a lord with his chest of gold,
The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,
The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,—
But Pride, it goeth before a fall.
“One hour she smilèd, the next she wept
(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)
And with frowns and blushes a chain she kept
Round the necks of her hapless lovers three.
For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,
And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,
And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,
But Pride, it goeth before a fall.
“At last it fell out on a bleak March day
(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)
There sate at her window the maiden gay
And looked o’er the frost for her lovers three.
But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,
And the shepherd had married her playmate small,
And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,—
So Pride, it goeth before a fall.”
As might have been expected, this mournful ditty fails to rouse the Queen from her melancholy, whereupon Rizzio takes his lute and sings the canzonet “Calla stagion novella,” a very slow and graceful movement, closing with a sensuous allegro, written in the genuine Italian style, though rather Verdi-ish for the times of Rizzio. The canzonet has the desired effect, and is followed by a delightful French romance, sung by the Queen, in which a tender minor theme is set off against a fascinating waltz melody, closing with a brilliant finale:—
“In my pleasant land of France
There is gladness everywhere;
In the very streams a dance,
Full of life, yet debonair,
Ah, me! ah, me!
To have left it was a sin,
Even for this kind countrie.
But we will not mourn to-day,
Bid the harp and rebec play,
Merrilie, merrilie,
Sing and smile, and jocund be;
If my father’s land is dear,
Mirth and valor still are here;
Maidens faithful, champions gay,
France has melted far away
Beyond the sea.”
At the close of the pretty romance, the revel begins with a stately minuet and vocal trio (“Fal, lal, la”) for the Queen, Mary Beatoun, and Rizzio. It is interrupted by the unison psalm-tune of the Puritans, a stern, severe old melody set to a “moving bass” accompaniment:—
“O thou who sittest on the throne
And wilt exalt thine horn on high,
While captive men in prison groan,
And women poor of hunger die,
Beware! albeit a Haman proud,
Served by thy slaves on bended knee,
The heaven can speak in thunder loud
And rend to dust both them and thee.”
There is a temporary pause in the revels, but at the Queen’s command they are resumed with a quick-step introduced by the pipes and full of the genuine Scotch spirit and bustle, the “Fal lal” trio and chorus still accompanying it. It is interrupted afresh by a repetition of the psalm (“A Hand of Fire was on the Wall”), after which John Knox enters. With his entrance the gay music closes and the work assumes a gloomy tragic cast as the dialogue proceeds and the terrible incidents of the prophecy are unfolded. It is a relief when they join in a hopeful duet (“E’en if Earth should wholly fail me”) which is very quiet and melodious. It leads to the Queen’s farewell, a quaintly-written bit, with an old-fashioned cadenza, followed by the final chorus, which takes up a theme in the same joyous spirit as the opening one:—
“Hence with evil omen,
Doleful bird of night,
Who in tears of women
Takest chief delight!
Think not to alarm her,
As with mystic power;
Nought shall ever harm her,
Scotland’s lily flower.”
