By ELEONORE D'ESTERRE-KEELING.
On the 25th of November, 1680, there appeared in the columns of the London Gazette the following announcement:—
"Josias Priest, who kept a boarding-school of gentlewomen in Leicester Fields, is removed to the great schoolhouse at Chelsey that was Mr. Portman's. There will continue the same masters and others to the improvement of the said school."
Leicester Fields was in 1680 the name of that part of London now known as Leicester Square, and the removal of their school from this central position to the village of Chelsea, at two miles distance, must have made a considerable difference in the lives of the young gentlewomen who had been confided to the care of Mr. Josias Priest. But preparations were just then being made for a great event, and the wily dominie doubtless knew what he was about when he chose the drear month of November for his flitting.
In the great schoolhouse which had been Mr. Portman's there was to be such a Christmas "break-up" as had never been known, and the young gentlewomen of Mr. Priest's establishment had no leisure to lament the gaieties of London life, for their thoughts were fully occupied by the practising of their music and their steps, not to mention such frivolous matters as the trying-on of fancy costumes and the twisting of bright English tresses into the coils which should surmount the dainty heads of maids and matrons of classic Carthage.
The new Chelsea school-master was nothing if not ambitious, and no less a thing would satisfy him than the performance of an original opera by the young gentlewomen of his establishment. To realise the full extent of this ambition one must remember that up to this time (1680) opera was unknown in England. The first opera ever written was Peri's Dafne, and this had been privately performed in Florence in 1597. The same composer's second opera, Eurydice, was the first work of the kind to receive public support, it being performed in 1600, also at Florence. Opera now slowly found its way across Europe, reaching Germany in 1627, when Heinrich Schutz's Dafne was given at Torgau; and arriving at Paris in 1659, in which year La Pastorale, by Robert Cambert, was sung before a public audience. From this time it made rapid strides in the French capital, and Lully's operatic compositions were regarded as masterpieces. England, however, still hung back, not because there was any lack of excellent musicians in the country, but because the sympathy and encouragement which are necessary to the advancement of any art were not forthcoming.
Under the stern rule of the Puritans, music had been rigorously suppressed, and the compositions of our older masters, existing only in precious manuscripts, had been torn up and trampled under foot. The destruction of singing-books was so complete that very few specimens of pre-Commonwealth music now exist, and to add to the general ruin, valuable organs were broken up, the one in Westminster Abbey itself being pulled to pieces and its pipes pawned at the ale-houses for pots of ale.
HENRY PURCELL.
Although the work of destruction was being thus drastically carried out by Cromwell's soldiers, the Protector was not himself without a strong love for music, and one of the acts for which musicians owe him gratitude was his rescue of the organ in Magdalen College, Oxford. This beautiful instrument he had privately brought to Hampton Court and placed there in the great gallery, in order that he might listen to the music played on it by his secretary, the poet Milton. After Cromwell's death it was returned to Magdalen College, but eventually it was sold, and it now stands in Tewkesbury Abbey.