One of the first effects of the wave of Puritanism which swept over the country after the Reformation, was a contempt for everything that savoured of frivolity, and to the minds of the Puritans, the practice of music was regarded more as a prostitution of mental effort than a calling which could be treated as serious or even moral. Its use was banished from the churches, and it is recorded of Cromwell that on one occasion he entered a cathedral with a squad of soldiers while a service was being held, and ordered the clergy to "stop this fooling." Although this extreme state of affairs was not of long duration, it lasted long enough to instil into the very marrow and bones of the population a prejudice that centuries have not been able to altogether eradicate.
A reaction was, however, inevitable, and with the Restoration it came, accompanied, unhappily, by excesses that rendered the results almost nugatory.
After a period, during which the genius of Purcell shed an undying glory on English music, the people, having finally rid the country of the Stuart dynasty, settled down to a period if of less fanaticism, a not less fatal indifference to and contempt for musical art. It was left to the
scornful genius of Dean Swift to express this feeling in words at once typical of him, and unforgettable.
At the time he wrote them, a foreign Court had attracted a large number of musicians from the Continent, amongst whom was Handel.
For the distractions of a dissipated nobility and a large cosmopolitan element, the Metropolis needed the means of gratification. It is evident that the native musician, whose training had been mainly directed to essentially different objects, was unable to supply them. The foreigner, however, then as now, was quick to meet the deficiency.
Two companies were formed for the exploitation of Italian opera, which had long been the vogue in France and Germany, their headquarters being respectively the Haymarket and Covent Garden Theatres, the one headed by Handel, the other by Buononcini.
Strange as it may appear to us at this day, their rivalry soon became a source of serious trouble to the authorities. Their adherents formed themselves into factions headed by young nobles, and occasional collisions between them led to scenes of rioting and even bloodshed, reminiscent of the ancient feuds between the houses of Montague and Capulet. It was then that Swift wrote the words in which he not only voiced his own savage disdain, but the sentiments of the average Englishman:
"Strange such difference there should be
'Twixt tweedledum and tweedledee."