During the 16th century the English monarchy was not particularly lucky in its Princes of Wales. Henry VII invested his eldest son, Arthur, with the title in 1489, but Arthur died in 1502, aged only 16. Two years later Henry’s second son was given the title – and lived to become Henry VIII. And that was it for the next hundred years or so. Henry VIII died without making his son Edward a Prince of Wales, and of course neither Edward, nor Mary, nor Elizabeth had children of their own, male or female.
When, therefore, James I made his eldest son, another Henry, Prince of Wales in 1610, there was great rejoicing. Not only was the question of succession settled more easily than it had been during Elizabeth’s long reign, but Prince Henry was a popular figure. Good-looking, intelligent, a patron of the arts, a passionate horseman, keen on martial and other physical arts, interested in current affairs: he was rather more popular, in fact, than his father. It came as a terrible blow when only 2 years later the young Prince caught typhoid fever and died. The outpouring of grief was national and led to a flood of elegies, sermons, poems – and music.
Robert Peake, Henry Prince of Wales (1610).
Two pieces the Southport Bach Choir will perform at their concert in Sefton parish church next Saturday (20 April), both setting the words ‘When David heard that Absalom was slain’, were written in response to Henry’s death. The parallel between David/Absalom and James/Henry is an interesting one. On the one hand the contemporary drama of Henry’s death and his father’s mourning is elevated by comparison with the biblical story. But the choice of this particular text hints at another point of comparison. Absalom had risen against his father, and although Henry never showed such outright opposition to James, there were certainly matters over which they disagreed; crucially, Henry was a staunch Protestant, and would have nothing to do with his father’s more sympathetic attitude towards Roman Catholics.
The composers of the two settings, Thomas Tomkins and Thomas Weelkes, were well established as writers of madrigals as well as Anglican church anthems. And these pieces might be called sacred madrigals, for they exploit the madrigalian style of interweaving vocal lines, and in places an almost dancelike rhythm, at the same time as giving due weight to the mournful words drawn from 2 Samuel. The texture of the music is kept relatively light, but the minor key, the chromaticism and the expressive melodic lines ensure that it conveys the overwhelming grief of a father at the untimely death of his son.
The two pieces are in this way similar. There is another similarity in that both composers start with a single vocal part singing the word ‘When’ before being joined by other voices, but omitting the basses. And again both composers start the second section (the words David says: ‘O my son’) with a single voice part singing the ‘O’ before the others join in. But there are the differences between the two settings. One which I can’t resist mentioning now, is the wonderful word-painting in Weelkes’s setting when he takes the sopranos up to a high G on the word ‘up’ in the phrase, ‘he went up to his chamber…’
Thomas Hudson, George Friedrich Handel (1774).
However, the main theme of our concert is not mourning, but celebration. And how better to celebrate than with Handel’s Coronation Anthems, written for his fellow-countryman George II’s coronation in 1727. Most people will have heard, ‘Zadok the priest’, famous for its long orchestral (or organ) introduction, which is frequently used in other – more commercial – contexts. It really is a startling piece of writing, a forerunner, it seems to me, of the minimalist compositions of, for instance, Steve Reich, Philip Glass or Michael Nyman: twenty-two bars of slowly shifting harmonies lead up to the explosive entry of the choir – which isn’t at all minimalist!
Charles Jervas, King George II (c.1727).
This, though, is the shortest of the anthems. What is astonishing is the sheer quantity of music Handel put together for the occasion. It wasn’t until the twentieth century that music of comparable splendour was composed for a coronation in England: Parry’s ‘I was glad’. And that is the piece with which we shall open our concert in Sefton Parish Church on 20 April. Full details of the concert are on our website: southportbachchoir.org.uk.
John Henry Frederick Bacon, Coronation of King George V (1912).
Choral Singing in Southport 