Henry Purcell, 1658-1695.
The most characteristic and notable piece of this school is the third in the Virginal Book, a Fantasia by John Munday, which represents no less a phenomenon than the changes of the weather. Over its sections, which have no thematic connection, but have various distinctions of rhythm—e.g., quietly moving semibreves and minims; jerky dotted quavers interspersed with semiquaver rests; extensive runs in semiquavers, etc.—he writes in this succession four times each, “Fine Weather,” “Lightning,” and “Thunder.” Instead of “fine” appears once “warm” weather; and a slow passage, marked “a clear day,” forms the conclusion. The characterisation is of course extremely superficial, and the last time the lightning rolls just like the thunder. But this novelty, as a symptom, ought not to be overlooked. It reveals to us the consciousness of characteristic, and the increasingly intimate character of the clavier. Technically, Bull inaugurated a school. Of the various authors of the Virginal Book, Ferdinand Richardson (who exhibits pure part-writing), Giles Farnaby, Orlando Gibbons, Peter Philips, to a large extent follow his footsteps. Farnaby thus early writes pieces for two virginals; he darts, in the midst of his technique, through a graceful “Spagnioletta,” and often lights on interesting modern passing chords, as, for example, running upwards, b, f sharp, d, a, where a follows b and c d. In the use of chords Peter Philips (who arranges many pieces of Orlando Lassus in the Virginal Book) stands in the first rank. In the Pavan (No. 76), which is dated 1592, he has in the conclusion[30] unheard-of simple alternating triads; in the Galliard he deals with the most beautiful suspended chords; and in the “Galiarda Dolorosa” (No. 81) he introduces chromatic colouring.[31] We can perceive how much he must have learnt on his Italian and Dutch travels from the flourishing art of the Continent. The spirit of Bird does not exert so powerful or so enduring an influence as that of Bull. The anonymous Piece 14 of the Virginal Book is a famous Alman (German dance), which in the severity of its subject reminds us of Bird, and its working-out is done by means of single-note passages of melodious motive.
The so-called “Hand” of Guido of Arezzo, with an early and
extensively used diagram of the scale-notation.
In their clearness of arrangement and harmonious development, so far as they do not deal with dance or song, the majority of the pieces of the Virginal Book are marked by the spirit of the Toccata of the great Dutchman Sweelinck, which appears as Piece 96. Here the spirit of Bach is seen before its time. Gradually the distinctive edges of individuality fade away. A piece by Thomas Morley on the theme, “Goe from my window,” whose melody he himself partially employs again in his “Nancie,” appears again almost unaltered in the same Virginal Book, and is then ascribed to John Munday. With John Blow, Henry Purcell, Thomas Augustine Arne, in the following generations,[32] English clavier music blends with the general Continental stream, till it is absorbed and must seek its nourishment from without.
[1] The Cor Anglais is mentioned here as expressing a tone-colour which is entirely foreign to the pianoforte. This instrument is the alto hautboy. Its name is a curious instance of a “ghost” word, viz.: in its original meaning, “Cor anglé,” a bent or “angled” tube, German “Krummhorn,” it was misunderstood and explained as Cor Anglais, Corno Inglese, English Horn.
[2] Readers who do not know the picture must not be misled by this expression. St Jerome’s window-frames are filled with numberless little rounds of bottle-glass.
[3] The bagpipers play before Othello’s house, and the clown reproves their nasal tone. Othello himself gave them money to go away, which argues rather in his favour. As for Caliban, he was a true musician, except when drunk. Even then he liked howling catches. See especially Tempest, Act iii. 2, 136.