The Standard Oratorios: Their Stories, Their Music, And Their Composers
Part III.--The Pentecost.
The prologue comprises the Mosaic account of the creation and fall of man, involving the necessity of divine mediation, the promise of redemption, and the annunciation of the mystery of the incarnation of the Holy Virgin. After a brief instrumental introduction, descriptive of chaos, the tenor Narrator announces the completion of creation in recitative, followed by a similar declamation from the bass Narrator announcing the fall of man, the tenor Narrator answering with the announcement of the Redeemer's advent ("But of the Spotless Lamb"), in which we have for the first time a genuine Wagnerian _leit motif_, which runs through the music of the oratorio whenever allusion is made to the divine atonement. This typical melody is heard nine times,--three times in the prologue, twice in the scene of the crucifixion, once in our Saviour's promise to the thieves on the cross, once in his appearance to the holy women, and twice in the ascension. It is first given out as a violin solo, and at the close of the tenor recitative is repeated by all the strings, leading to the mystic chorale, "The Earth is my Possession," to be sung by a celestial choir of twenty-eight voices. At its close the typical melody is introduced in responsive form between flute and clarinet. To the first, the angelic message of the annunciation, Gounod has affixed the title, "Ave, gratia plena;" and to the second, the reply of Mary, "Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum."
The first part includes the march to Calvary, which is divided into six separate numbers, yet so connected as to make a single musical series,--the crucifixion, Mary at the foot of the cross, the dying thieves, the death of Jesus, and the confession of his divinity by the centurion. It opens with the story of the condemnation of the Man of Sorrows by Pilate, told by the bass Narrator, the words of Jesus himself, however, being used invariably in the first person, and sung by the baritone voice, as when he says, "If my Deeds have been evil," immediately following the bass recitative. After another monologue by the Narrator, ensues the march to the cross,--an instrumental number which is brilliant in its color effects and somewhat barbaric in tone. Without any break, the sopranos enter with the words, "Forth the Royal Banners go," set to a melody from the Roman Catholic liturgy; after which the march is resumed. The bass Narrator tells the story of the women who followed lamenting, interrupted by a semi-chorus of sopranos singing the lament, and by the words of Jesus, "Ye Daughters of Israel, weep not for me." Again the march is heard, and the sopranos resume ("Forth the Royal Banners go"). The tenor Narrator recites the preparation for the crucifixion, accompanied by very descriptive music, and followed by a stormy chorus of the People ("Ha! thou that didst declare"), and the mocking cries of the priests ("Can he now save himself?"), sung by a male chorus. In a pathetic monologue Jesus appeals for their pardon, which leads to an elaborate concerted number for chorus or quartet, called "The Reproaches." A conversation ensues between Jesus and Mary, followed by the quartet, "Beside the Cross remaining," in canon form, preluding the chorale, "While my Watch I am keeping," at first sung by Mary, and then taken up by the full chorus, accompanied by organ, trombones, and trumpets. The next scene is that between Jesus and the two Thieves, which also leads to a chorale ("Lord Jesus, thou to all bringest Light and Salvation"). This number contains the last touch of brightness in the first part. Immediately the bass Narrator announces the approach of the awful tragedy. The gathering darkness is pictured by a vivid passage for strings and clarinet, succeeded by the agonizing cries of the Saviour. The bass Narrator declares the consummation of the tragedy, and then with the tenor Narrator describes the throes of Nature ("And then the Air was filled with a Murmur unwonted"), the rending of the veil of the Temple, the breaking of the rocks, the earthquake, and the visions of the saintly apparitions. The last number is the conviction of the centurion, followed by a short chorale ("For us the Christ is made a Victim availing").
The second part includes the announcement of the doctrine of the resurrection by the mystic chorus, the appearance of the Angel to the Holy Women at the sepulchre, that of Jesus to them while on the way to Galilee, the consternation of the Sanhedrim when it is learned that the tomb is empty, the meeting of the Holy Women and the Apostles, the appearance of Jesus to the latter, and his final ascension. It opens with a chorus for the mystic choir ("Saviour of Men"), followed by a short pastorale with muted strings and leading to a trio for the three Women ("How shall we by ourselves have Strength to roll away the Stone?"). Their apprehensions are removed by the tenor Narrator and the message of the Angel interwoven with the harp and conveyed in the beautiful aria, "Why seek ye the Living among the Dead?" Jesus at last reveals himself to the Women with the words, "All hail! Blessed are ye Women," accompanied by the typical melody, of which mention has already been made. The three Women disappear on the way to convey his message to the Disciples, and the scene changes to the Sanhedrim, where, in a tumultuous and agitated chorus for male voices ("Christ is risen again"), the story of the empty tomb is told by the Watchers. The bass Narrator relates the amazement of the priests and elders, and their plot to bribe the guard, leading to the chorus for male voices ("Say ye that in the Night his Disciples have come and stolen him away"), at the close of which ensues a full, massive chorus ("Now, behold ye the Guard, this, your Sleep-vanquished Guard"), closing with the denunciation in unison ("For Ages on your Heads shall Contempt be outpoured"). The tenor and bass Narrators in duet tell of the sorrow of the Disciples, which prepares the way for a lovely trio for first and second soprano and alto ("The Lord he has risen again"). The next number is one of the most effective in the whole work,--a soprano obligato solo, accompanied by the full strength of chorus and orchestra, to the words:
"From thy love as a Father, O Lord, teach us to gather That life will conquer death. They who seek things eternal Shall rise to light supernal On wings of lovely faith."
In the close the effect is sublime, the climax reaching to C in alt with the full power of the accompanying forces. Then follows a dialogue between the Saviour and his Apostles, in which he gives them their mission to the world. The finale then begins with a massive chorus ("Unfold, ye Portals everlasting"). The celestial chorus above, accompanied by harps and trumpets, inquire, "But who is he, the King of Glory?" The answer comes in a stately unison by the terrestrial chorus, "He who Death overcame." Again the question is asked, and again it is answered; whereupon the two choirs are massed in the jubilant chorus, "Unfold! for lo the King comes nigh!" the full orchestra and organ sounding the Redemption melody, and the whole closing with a fanfare of trumpets.
The third part includes the prophecy of the millennium, the descent of the Holy Ghost to the Apostles, the Pentecostal manifestations, and the Hymn of the Apostles. The latter is so important that the composer's own analysis is appended:--
"This division of the third part of the work, the last and one of the most highly developed of the trilogy, comprises seven numbers, and gives a summary of the Christian faith.
"1. The Apostles first proclaim the three great doctrines of the Incarnation of the Word, his eternal generation, and his continual presence with his Church. This first number is written in a style which is intended to recall the form and rhythm of the chants called 'Proses' in the Catholic liturgy.
"2. Quartet and Chorus. 'By faith salvation comes, and by peace consolation.'
"3. Chorus. His power manifested by miracles.
"4. Quartet. 'O come to me, all ye that are sad and that weep.'
"5. Semi-Chorus. The Beatitudes.
"6. Repetition of the theme of No. 1, with the whole choir, the orchestra, and the great organ.
"7. Final Coda. Glorification of the Most Holy Trinity throughout all ages."
This part of the oratorio, after a short instrumental prelude, opens with a brief chorus ("Lovely appear over the Mountains"), followed by a soprano solo, the only distinct number of that kind in the work, set to the words, "Over the barren Wastes shall Flowers have possession," at its close the chorus resuming in unison, "Lovely appear over the Mountains." The next number is "The Apostles in Prayer," an instrumental sketch, followed by the Narrators relating the descent of the Holy Spirit. Without break, the Apostles' Hymn begins, tenors and basses in unison ("The Word is Flesh become") leading into the quartet of solo voices ("By Faith Salvation comes, and by Peace, Consolation"). The chorus responds antiphonally, and again the solo voices are heard in a lovely quartet ("He has said to all the Unhappy"), followed by a small choir of thirty voices ("Blessed are the poor in Spirit"), at the end of which all the voices are massed on the Apostles' Hymn, which closes in fugal form on the words, "He like the Holy Ghost is one with the Father, an everlasting Trinity," the whole ending in massive chords.
Mors et Vita.
The oratorio "Mors et Vita" ("Death and Life") is the continuation of "The Redemption," and, like that work also, is a trilogy. It was first performed at the Birmingham Festival, Aug. 26, 1885, under the direction of Herr Hans Richter, the principal parts being sung by Mesdames Albani and Patey and Messrs. Santley and Lloyd. Its companion oratorio, "The Redemption," was dedicated to Queen Victoria, and itself to His Holiness Pope Leo XIII. In his preface to the work, Gounod says:--
"It will perhaps be asked why, in the title, I have placed death before life, although in the order of temporal things life precedes death. Death is only the end of that existence which dies each day; it is only the end of a continual 'dying.' But it is the first moment, and, as it were, the birth of that which dies no more. I cannot here enter into a detailed analysis of the different musical forms which express the meaning and idea of this work. I do not wish to expose myself to the reproach either of pretension or subtlety. I shall therefore confine myself to pointing out the essential features of the ideas I have wished to express,--that is to say, the tears which death causes us to shed here below; the hope of a better life; the solemn dread of unerring justice; the tender and filial trust in eternal love."
The composer further calls attention in his preface to the use of representative themes, an illustration of which was also noted in "The Redemption." The first one, consisting of four notes, presenting a sequence of three major seconds, is intended to express "the terror inspired by the sense of the inflexibility of justice and, in consequence, by that of the anguish of punishment. Its sternness gives expression both to the sentences of divine justice and the sufferings of the condemned, and is found in combination throughout the whole work, with melodic forms which express sentiments altogether different, as in the 'Sanctus' and the 'Pie Jesu' in the 'Requiem,' which forms the first part." It is first heard in the opening chorus, and for the last time in the quartet of the third part. The second melodic form, expressive of sorrow and tears, by the change of a single note and the use of the major key is made to express consolation and joy. "The third," says Gounod, "by means of threefold superposition, results in the interval of an augmented fifth, and announces the awakening of the dead at the terrifying call of the angelic trumpets, of which Saint Paul speaks in one of his epistles to the Corinthians."
The oratorio is divided into a prologue and three parts, the Latin text being used throughout. The first part is entitled "Mors," and opens with the prologue, which is brief, followed by the "Requiem," interspersed with texts of a reflective character commenting upon the sentiment. The second part is entitled "Judicium" ("Judgment"), and includes (1) The Sleep of the Dead; (2) The Trumpets at the Last Judgment; (3) The Resurrection of the Dead; (4) The Judge; (5) The Judgment of the Elect; (6) The Judgment of the Rejected. The third part is entitled "Vita," and includes the vision of Saint John, the text being taken from the Apocalypse; the work closing with an "Hosanna in Excelsis," exulting in the glorious vision of the heavenly Jerusalem.
The prologue, which is sustained by the chorus and baritone solo, declares the terrors of death and the judgment. The chorus intones the words, "It is a Fearful Thing to fall into the Hands of the Living God," and in this phrase is heard the chief motive, heavily accented by the percussion instruments,--the motive which typifies death both of the body and of the unredeemed soul. Immediately after follows the baritone voice, that of Jesus, in the familiar words, "I am the Resurrection and the Life." The chorus repeats the declaration, and the Requiem Mass then begins, divided into various sections, of which the "Dies Iræ" is the most important; this in turn subdivided in the conventional form. After an adagio prelude and the intonation of the "Requiem æternam," an interpolated text occurs ("From the Morning Watch till the Evening"), set as a double chorus without accompaniment, in the genuine Church style of the old masters. It leads directly to the "Dies Iræ," in which the death motive already referred to frequently occurs. It is laid out in duets, quartets, and arias, with and without chorus, very much in the same tempo and of the same character of melody. The verse, "Ah! what shall we then be pleading?" for quartet and chorus, is remarkable for its attractive melody. It is followed by a soprano solo and chorus ("Happy are we, with such a Saviour") of a reflective character, which gives out still another very tuneful melody. The hymn is then resumed with the verse, "Faint and worn, thou yet hast sought us," for duet and chorus, which is of the same general character. The next verse, "Lord, for Anguish hear us moaning," for quartet and chorus, is very effective and elaborate in its construction, particularly as compared with that immediately following ("With the Faithful deign to place us"), a tenor solo of a quaint and pastoral character. The next number for chorus ("While the wicked are confounded") affords still another striking contrast, being in the grandiose style and very dramatic, closing with phrases for the solo voices expressive of submission and contrition. Up to this point the "Dies Iræ" has been monotonous in its sameness of general style; but the next verse ("Day of Weeping, Day of Mourning") is a beautiful and thoroughly original number of very striking effect. It leads directly to the offertory ("O Lord Jesus Christ, King of Glory"), which is composed of a chorus for eight parts, a soprano solo ("But, Lord, do thou bring them evermore"), a chorus ("Which once to Abraham"), and a second chorus ("Sacrifice of Prayer and Praise"). The soprano solo is a delightful melody, sung to a delicate accompaniment of the strings, with occasional chords on the harp, and based upon the beautiful second typical motive, which the composer styles "The Motive of Happiness." The chorus, "Which once to Abraham," is set in fugue form, which is the conventional style among composers with this number; but, as in "The Redemption," whenever Gounod employs the fugue form, he drops it as soon as the four voices have fairly launched themselves.
The next number is the "Sanctus,"--a beautiful tenor aria with chorus, full of that sweetness which is so characteristic of Gounod. It is followed by the quartet, "Mighty Saviour, Jesus blest," which is deeply religious in character; the lovely soprano solo and chorus, "Agnus Dei;" and the chorus, "Lord, forever let Light Eternal." The first part is rounded off with an epilogue, an interlude for full orchestra and organ, based upon the first and second typical melodies, forming a consistent and stately finale to this part of the work.
The second part is peculiar for the prominence which the composer assigns to the orchestra. It opens with a well-sustained, gentle adagio movement, entitled "The Sleep of the Dead," which at times is somewhat harshly interrupted by the third typical melody, announcing the awakening of the dead at the terrifying call of the angelic trumpets. This is specially noticeable in that part of the prelude called "The Trumpet of the Last Judgment," in which the trombones, trumpets, and tubas are employed with extraordinary effect. Still a third phrase of the prelude occurs,--"The Resurrection of the Dead,"--which is smooth and flowing in its style, and peculiarly rich in harmony. A brief recitative by baritone ("But when the Son of Man") intervenes, immediately followed by another instrumental number, entitled "Judex" ("The Judge"),--one of the most effective pieces of orchestration in the oratorio, based upon the motive which indicates the tempering of justice with mercy, given out by the strings in unison. It preludes a short chorus ("Sitting upon the Throne"), the previous melody still continuing in the orchestra. The "Judgment of the Elect" follows, pronounced by the baritone voice in recitative, and leading directly to the soprano solo, "The Righteous shall enter into Glory eternal,"--the most exquisite solo number in the work,--followed by an effective chorale ("In Remembrance everlasting"). Then follows "The Judgment of the Rejected," consisting of baritone solos and chorus, closing the second part.
The third part celebrates the delights of the celestial city as pictured in the apocalyptic vision of Saint John, and is in marked contrast to the gloom and sombreness of the Requiem music, as well as the terrors of the Judgment. It is bright, jubilant, and exultant throughout. The title of the prelude is "New Heaven, New Earth." The baritone intones the recitative ("And I saw the New Heaven"), which is followed by another delightful sketch for the orchestra ("Celestial Jerusalem"),--a most vivid and graphic picture of the subject it describes. The remaining prominent numbers are the "Sanctus" chorus, the celestial chorus ("I am Alpha and Omega"), and the final chorus ("Hosanna in Excelsis"), which closes this remarkable work.
The weakest part of the oratorio is the "Requiem," which suffers from the monotony of its divisions, especially when compared with the treatment of requiems by the great composers who have made them a special study. As compared with the "Redemption," however, it is more interesting, because it is more melodious and less cumbered with recitative. It is also peculiarly noticeable for the free manner in which the composer uses the orchestra, and the skill with which the typical melodies are employed, as compared with which the solitary "Redemption" motive seems weak and thin. Both works are full of genuine religious sentiment, and taken together cover almost the entire scope of human aspiration so far as it relates to the other world. No composer has conceived a broader scheme for oratorio. Though Gounod does not always reach the sublime and majestic heights of the old masters in sacred music, yet the feeling manifested in these works is never anything but religious; the hearer is always surrounded by an atmosphere of devotion.
HANDEL.
George Frederick Handel was born at Halle, in Lower Saxony, Feb. 23, 1685, and, like many another composer, revealed his musical promise at a very early age, only to encounter parental opposition. His father intended him to be a lawyer; but Nature had her way, and in spite of domestic antagonism triumphed. The Duke of Saxe-Weissenfels recognized his ability and overcame the father's determination. Handel began his studies with Zachau, organist of the Halle cathedral. After the death of his father, in 1697, he went to Hamburg, and for a time played in the orchestra of the German opera. It was during his residence in that city that he wrote his first opera, "Almira" (1705). In the following year he went to Italy, where he remained several months under the patronage of the Grand Duke of Florence. During the next two years he visited Venice, Rome, and Naples, and wrote several operas and minor oratorios. In 1709 he returned to Germany, and the Elector of Hanover, subsequently George I. of England, offered him the position of Capellmeister, which he accepted upon the condition that he might visit England, having received many invitations from that country. The next year he arrived in London and brought out his opera of "Rinaldo," which proved a great success. At the end of six months he was obliged to return to his position in Hanover; but his English success made him impatient of the dulness of the court. In 1712 he was in London again, little dreaming that the Elector would soon follow him as king. Incensed with him for leaving Hanover, the King at first refused to receive him; but some music which Handel composed for an aquatic fête in his honor brought about the royal reconciliation. In 1718 he accepted the position of chapel-master to the Duke of Chandos, for whom he wrote the famous Chandos Te Deum and Anthems, the serenata "Acis and Galatea," and "Esther," his first English oratorio. In 1720 he was engaged as director of Italian opera by the society of noblemen known as the Royal Academy of Music, and from that time until 1740 his career was entirely of an operatic character. Opera after opera came from his pen. Some were successful, others failed. At first composer, then director, he finally became _impresario_, only to find himself confronted with bitter rivalry, especially at the hands of Buononcini and Porpora. Cabals were instituted against him. Unable to contend with them alone, he formed a partnership with Heidegger, proprietor of the King's Theatre, in 1729. It was broken in 1734, and he took the management of Covent Garden. The Italian conspiracies against him broke out afresh. He failed in his undertaking, and became a bankrupt. In eight years he had lost $51,000 in Italian opera. Slanders of all sorts were circulated against him, and his works were no longer well received. In the midst of his adversity sickness overtook him, ending with a partial stroke of paralysis. When sufficiently recovered, he went to the Continent, where he remained for a few months. On his return to London he brought out some new works, but they were not favorably received. A few friends who had remained faithful to him persuaded him to give a benefit concert, which was a great success. It inspired him with fresh courage; but he did not again return to the operatic world. Thenceforward he devoted himself to oratorio, in which he made his name famous for all time. He himself said: "Sacred music is best suited to a man descending in the vale of years." "Saul" and the colossal "Israel in Egypt," written in 1740, head the list of his wonderful oratorios. In 1741 he was invited to visit Ireland. He went there in November, and many of his works were produced during the winter and received with great enthusiasm. In April, 1742, his immortal "Messiah" was brought out at Dublin. It was followed by "Samson," "Joseph," "Semele," "Belshazzar," and "Hercules," which were also successful; but even in the midst of his oratorio work his rivals did not cease their conspiracies against him, and in 1744 he was once more a bankrupt. For over a year his pen was idle. In 1746 the "Occasional Oratorio" and "Judas Maccabæus" appeared, and these were speedily followed by "Joshua," "Solomon," "Susanna," "Theodora," and "Jephtha." It was during the composition of the last-named work that he was attacked with the illness which finally proved fatal. He died April 14, 1759, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. During the last few days of his life he was heard to express the wish that he "might breathe his last on Good Friday, in hopes of meeting his good God, his sweet Lord and Saviour, on the day of his resurrection." The wish was granted him; for it was on Good Friday that he passed away, leaving behind him a name and fame that will be cherished so long as music retains its power over the human heart.
Israel in Egypt.
"Israel in Egypt," the fifth of the nineteen oratorios which Handel composed in England, was written in 1738. The Exodus, which is now the second part, was written between the 1st and the 11th of October, and was superscribed, "Moses' Song, Exodus, Chap. xv., begun Oct. 1, 1738;" and at the close was written, "Fine, Oct. 11, 1738." It is evident from this that the work was at first written as a cantata, but that Handel on reflection decided that the plagues of Egypt would not only be a good subject, but would also prove a logical historical introduction to the second part. Four days later he began the first part, and finished it on the 1st of November,--the composition of the whole of this colossal work thus occupying but twenty-seven days. It was first performed as "Israel in Egypt," April 4, 1739, at the King's Theatre, of which Handel was then manager. It was given the second time April 11, "with alterations and additions," the alterations having been made in order to admit of the introduction of songs. The third performance took place April 17, upon which occasion the "Funeral Anthem," which he had written for Queen Caroline, was used as a first part and entitled, "Lamentations of the Israelites for the Death of Joseph." During the lifetime of Handel the oratorio was only performed nine times, for in spite of its excellence, it was a failure. For many years after his death it was produced in mutilated form; but in 1849 the Sacred Harmonic Society of London gave it as it was originally written and as we know it now, without the Funeral Anthem or any of the songs which had been introduced.
The text of the oratorio is supposed to have been written by Handel himself, though the words are taken literally from the Bible. Schoelcher says:
"The manuscript does not contain any of the names of the personages. Nevertheless, the handbook, which includes the extracts from Solomon for the first parts, has in this part the names of personages (High Priest, Joseph, Israelite woman, Israelite man), as if the composer wished to throw it into a dramatic form. The words in their Biblical simplicity form a poem eminently dramatic."
The first part opens with the wail of the Israelites over the burdens imposed upon them by their Egyptian taskmasters, and then in rapid succession follow the plagues,--the water of the Nile turned to blood, the reptiles swarming even into the king's chambers, the pestilence scourging man and beast, the insect-cloud heralding the locusts, the pelting hail and the fire running along the ground, the thick darkness, and the smiting of the first-born. Then come the passage of the Red Sea and the escape from bondage, closing the first part. The second part opens with the triumphant song of Moses and the Children of Israel rejoicing over the destruction of Pharaoh's host, and closes with the exultant strain of Miriam the prophetess, "Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously; the Horse and his Rider hath He thrown into the Sea."
"Israel in Egypt" is essentially a choral oratorio. It comprises no less than twenty-eight massive double choruses, linked together by a few bars of recitative, with five arias and three duets interspersed among them. Unlike Handel's other oratorios, there is no overture or even prelude to the work. Six bars of recitative for tenor ("Now there arose a new King over Egypt which knew not Joseph") suffice to introduce it, and lead directly to the first double chorus ("And the Children of Israel sighed"), the theme of which is first given out by the altos of one choir with impressive pathos. The chorus works up to a climax of great force on the phrase, "And their Cry came up unto God," the two choruses developing with consummate power the two principal subjects,--first, the cry for relief, and second, the burden of oppression; and closing with the phrase above mentioned, upon which they unite in simple but majestic harmony. Then follow eight more bars of recitative for tenor, and the long series of descriptive choruses begins, in which Handel employs the imitative power of music in the boldest manner. The first is the plague of the water turned to blood, "They loathed to drink of the River,"--a single chorus in fugue form, based upon a theme which is closely suggestive of the sickening sensations of the Egyptians, and increases in loathsomeness to the close, as the theme is variously treated. The next number is an aria for mezzo soprano voice ("Their Land brought forth Frogs"), the air itself serious and dignified, but the accompaniment imitative throughout of the hopping of these lively animals. It is followed by the plague of insects, whose afflictions are described by the double chorus. The tenors and basses in powerful unison declare, "He spake the Word," and the reply comes at once from the sopranos and altos, "And there came all Manner of Flies," set to a shrill, buzzing, whirring accompaniment, which increases in volume and energy as the locusts appear, but bound together solidly with the phrase of the tenors and basses frequently repeated, and presenting a sonorous background to this fancy of the composer in insect imitation. From this remarkable chorus we pass to another still more remarkable, the familiar Hailstone Chorus ("He gave them Hailstones for Rain"), which, like the former, is closely imitative. Before the two choirs begin, the orchestra prepares the way for the on-coming storm. Drop by drop, spattering, dashing, and at last crashing, comes the storm, the gathering gloom rent with the lightning, the "fire that ran along upon the ground," and the music fairly quivering and crackling with the wrath of the elements. But the storm passes, the gloom deepens, and we are lost in that vague, uncertain combination of tones where voices and instruments seem to be groping about, comprised in the marvellously expressive chorus, "He sent a Thick Darkness over all the Land." From the oppression of this choral gloom we emerge, only to encounter a chorus of savage, unrelenting retribution ("He smote all the First-born of Egypt"). Chorley admirably describes the motive of this great fugue:--
"It is fiercely Jewish. There is a touch of Judith, of Jael, of Deborah in it,--no quarter, no delay, no mercy for the enemies of the Most High; 'He smote.' And when for variety's sake the scimitar-phrase is transferred from orchestra to voices, it is admirable to see how the same character of the falchion--of hip-and-thigh warfare, of victory predominant--is sustained in the music till the last bar. If we have from Handel a scorn-chorus in the 'Messiah,' and here a disgust-chorus, referred to a little while since,[3] this is the execution, or revenge chorus,--the chorus of the unflinching, inflexible, commissioned Angels of the Sword."
After their savage mission is accomplished, we come to a chorus in pastoral style ("But as for His People, He led them forth like Sheep"), slow, tender, serene, and lovely in its movement, and grateful to the ear both in its quiet opening and animated, happy close, after the terrors which have preceded it. The following chorus ("Egypt was glad"), usually omitted in performance, is a fugue, both strange and intricate, which it is claimed Handel appropriated from an Italian canzonet by Kerl. The next two numbers are really one. The two choruses intone the words, "He rebuked the Red Sea," in a majestic manner, accompanied by a few massive chords, and then pass to the glorious march of the Israelites, "He led them through the Deep,"--a very elaborate and complicated number, but strong, forcible, and harmonious throughout, and held together by the stately opening theme with which the basses ascend. It is succeeded by another graphic chorus ("But the Waters overwhelmed their Enemies"), in which the roll and dash of the billows closing over Pharaoh's hosts are closely imitated by the instruments, and through which in the close is heard the victorious shout of the Israelites, "There was not one of them left." Two more short choruses,--the first, "And Israel saw that Great Work," which by many critics is not believed to be a pure Handel number, and its continuation, "And believed the Lord," written in church style, close this extraordinary chain of choral pictures.
The second part, "The Song of Moses,"--which, it will be remembered, was written first,--opens with a brief but forcible orchestral prelude, leading directly to the declaration by the chorus, "Moses and the Children of Israel sang this Song," which, taken together with the instrumental prelude, serves as a stately introduction to the stupendous fugued chorus which follows ("I will sing unto the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously; the Horse and his Rider hath He thrown into the Sea"). It is followed by a duet for two sopranos ("The Lord is my Strength and my Song") in the minor key,--an intricate but melodious number, usually omitted. Once more the chorus resumes with a brief announcement, "He is my God," followed by a fugued movement in the old church style ("And I will exalt Him"). Next follows the great duet for two basses, "The Lord is a Man of War,"--a piece of superb declamatory effect, full of vigor and stately assertion. The triumphant announcement in its closing measures, "His chosen Captains also are drowned in the Red Sea," is answered by a brief chorus, "The Depths have covered them," which is followed by four choruses of triumph,--"Thy Right Hand, O Lord," an elaborate and brilliant number; "And in the Greatness of Thine Excellency," a brief but powerful bit; "Thou sendest forth Thy Wrath;" and the single chorus, "And with the Blast of Thy Nostrils," in the last two of which Handel again returns to the imitative style with wonderful effect, especially in the declaration of the basses, "The Floods stood upright as an Heap, and the Depths were congealed." The only tenor aria in the oratorio follows these choruses, a bravura song, "The Enemy said, I will pursue," and this is followed by the only soprano aria, "Thou didst blow with the Wind." Two short double choruses ("Who is like unto Thee, O Lord," and "The Earth swallowed them") lead to the duet for contralto and tenor, "Thou in Thy Mercy," which is in the minor, and very pathetic in character. It is followed by the massive and extremely difficult chorus, "The People shall hear and be afraid." Once more, after this majestic display, comes the solo voice, this time the contralto, in a simple, lovely song, "Thou shalt bring them in." A short double chorus ("The Lord shall reign for ever and ever"), a few bars of recitative referring to the escape of Israel, the choral outburst once more repeated, and then the solo voice declaring, "Miriam the prophetess took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances; and Miriam answered them," lead to the final song of triumph,--that grand, jubilant, overpowering expression of victory which, beginning with the exultant strain of Miriam, "Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously," is amplified by voice upon voice in the great eight-part choir, and by instrument upon instrument, until it becomes a tempest of harmony, interwoven with the triumph of Miriam's cry and the exultation of the great host over the enemy's discomfiture, and closing with the combined power of voices and instruments in harmonious accord as they once more repeat Miriam's words, "The Horse and his Rider hath He thrown into the Sea."
[3] The second chorus, "The Plague of the Water turned to Blood," and the loathing of the Egyptians.
Saul.
The oratorio of "Saul" was written by Handel in 1738. He began it, says Schoelcher, on the 3d of July, and finished it on the 27th of September; thus occupying eighty-six days. This, however, is evidently an error, as Rockstro says: "The score, written in a thick quarto volume, on paper quite different from that used for the operas, is dated at the beginning of the first chorus, July 23, 1738." The next date is August 28, at the end of the second part, and the last, at the end of the work, September 27,--which would give two months and four days as the time in which it was written. But even this period, short as it is, seems brief when compared with that devoted to the composition of "Israel in Egypt," which Handel began four days after "Saul" was completed, and finished in twenty-seven days.
It has already been said, in the analysis of the last named-work, that in January, 1739, Handel took the King's Theatre in the Haymarket, his purpose being to give oratorios twice a week. "Saul" was the first of the series; and in this connection the following advertisement, which Schoelcher reprints from the London "Daily Post" of Jan. 3, 1739, will be of interest:--
"We hear that on Tuesday se'en night the King's Theatre will be opened with a new oratorio composed by Mr. Handel, called 'Saul.' The pit and boxes will be put together, the tickets delivered on Monday the 15th and Tuesday 16th (the day of performance), at half a guinea each. Gallery 5_s._ The gallery will be opened at 4; the pit and boxes at 5. To begin at 6."
The first performance took place as announced, and the second on the 23d, "with several new concertos on the organ,"--which instrument also plays a conspicuous part in the oratorio itself, not only in amplifying the accompaniment, but also in solo work. In 1740 it was performed by the Academy of Ancient Music in London, and in 1742 in Dublin. Selections were also given from it in the great Handel Commemoration at Westminster Abbey in 1784, and in 1840 it was revived by the Sacred Harmonic Society of London, since which time it has occupied an important place in the oratorio repertory.
The story closely follows the Biblical narrative of the relations between David and Saul. The words have been attributed both to Jennens and Marell; but the balance of evidence favors the former,--a poet who lived at Gopsall. The overture, marked "Symfonie" in the original manuscript, is the longest of all the Handel introductions. It is in four movements, the first an allegro, the second a largo (in which the organ is used as a solo instrument), the third an allegro, and the fourth a minuetto. It is an exceedingly graceful and delicate prelude, and makes a fitting introduction to the dramatic story which follows. The characters introduced are Saul, king of Israel; Jonathan, his son; Abner, captain of the host; David; the apparition of Samuel; Doeg, a messenger; an Amalekite; Abiathar, Merab, and Michal, daughters of Saul; the Witch of Endor; and the Israelites. The very dramatic character of the narrative admirably adapts it to its division into acts and scenes.
The first act is triumphant in its tone and expressive of the exultation of the Israelites at their victory over the Philistines. The second gives a story of the passions,--Saul's jealousy of David, the love of Michal, and the ardent friendship between David and Jonathan. The last act is sombre in its character, opening with the weird incantations of the Witch, and closing with David's grief over Saul and Jonathan.
The first scene opens in the Israelitish camp by the valley of Elah, where the people join in an Epinicion, or Song of Triumph, over Goliah and the Philistines. It is made up of a chorus ("How excellent Thy Name, O Lord"), which is a stirring tribute of praise; an aria ("An Infant raised by Thy Command"), describing the meeting of David and Goliah; a trio, in which the Giant is pictured as the "monster atheist," striding along to the vigorous and expressive music; and three closing choruses ("The Youth inspired by Thee," "How excellent Thy Name," and a jubilant "Hallelujah"), ending in plain but massive harmony.
The second scene is in Saul's tent. Two bars of recitative prelude an aria by Michal, Saul's daughter, who reveals her love for David ("O godlike Youth!"). Abner presents David to Saul, and a dialogue ensues between them, in which the conqueror announces his origin and Saul pleads with him to remain, offering the hand of his daughter Merab as an inducement. David (whose part is sung by a contralto) replies in a beautiful aria, in which he attributes his success to the help of the Lord alone. In the next four numbers the friendship of Jonathan and David is cemented, which is followed by a three-verse hymn ("While yet thy Tide of Blood runs high"), of a very stately character, sung by the High Priest. In a few bars of recitative Saul betroths his daughter Merab to David; but the girl replies in a very powerful aria ("My Soul rejects the Thought with Scorn"), in which she declares her intention of frustrating the scheme to unite a plebeian with the royal line. It is followed by a plaintive but vigorous aria ("See with what a scornful Air"), sung by Michal, who again gives expression to her love for David.
The next scene is entitled "Before an Israelitish City," and is prefaced with a short symphony of a jubilant character. A brief recitative introduces the maidens of the land singing and dancing in praise of the victor, leading up to one of Handel's finest choruses, "Welcome, welcome, Mighty King,"--a fresh, vigorous semi-chorus accompanied by the carillons, in which Saul's jealousy is aroused by the superiority of prowess attributed to David. It is followed by a furious aria, "With Rage I shall burst, his Praises to hear." Jonathan laments the imprudence of the women in making comparisons, and Michal suggests to David that it is an old malady which may be assuaged by music, and in the aria, "Fell Rage and black Despair passest," expresses her belief that the monarch can be cured by David's "persuasive lyre."
The next scene is in the King's house. David sings an aria ("O Lord, whose Mercies numberless"), followed by a harp solo; but it is in vain. Jonathan is in despair, and Saul, in an aria ("A Serpent in my Bosom warmed"), gives vent to his fury and hurls his javelin at David. The latter escapes; and in furious recitative Saul charges his son to destroy him. The next number is an aria for Merab ("Capricious Man, in Humor lost"), lamenting Saul's temper; and Jonathan follows with a very dramatic recitative and aria, in which he refuses to obey his father's behest. The High Priest appeals to Heaven ("O Lord, whose Providence") to protect David, and the first part closes with a powerful chorus, "Preserve him for the Glory of Thy Name."
The second act is laid in the palace, and opens with a powerfully descriptive chorus ("Envy, Eldest-born of Hell!"). In a noble song ("But sooner Jordan's Stream, I swear") Jonathan assures David he will never injure him. In a colloquy between them, David is informed that Saul has bestowed the hand of the haughty Merab on Adriel, and Jonathan pleads the cause of the lovely Michal. Saul approaches, and David retires. Saul inquires of Jonathan whether he has obeyed his commands, and in a simple, sweet, and flowing melody ("Sin not, O King, against the Youth") he seems to overcome the wrath of the monarch, who dissembles and welcomes David, bidding him to repel the insults of the Philistines, and offering him his daughter Michal as a proof of his sincerity.
In the second scene Michal declares her love for David, and they join in a rapturous duet ("O fairest of ten thousand fair"), which is followed by a chorus in simple harmony ("Is there a Man who all his Ways"). A long symphony follows, preparing the way for the attempt on David's life. After an agitated duet with Michal ("At Persecution I can laugh"), David makes his escape just as Doeg, the messenger, enters with instructions to bring David to the King's chamber. He is shown the image in David's bed, which he says will only enrage the King still more. Michal sings an exultant aria, "No, let the Guilty tremble," and even Merab, won over by David's qualities, pleads for him in a beautiful aria, "Author of peace." Another symphony intervenes, preluding the celebration of the feast of the new moon in the palace, to which David has been invited. Jonathan again interposes with an effort to save David's life, whereupon Saul, in a fresh outburst of indignation, hurls his javelin at his son, and the chorus bursts out in horror, "Oh, fatal Consequence of Rage."
The third act opens with the intensely dramatic scene with the Witch of Endor, the interview being preluded by the powerful recitative, "Wretch that I am!" The second scene is laid in the Witch's abode, where the incantation is practised that brings up the Apparition of Samuel. The whole scene is very dramatic, and the instrumentation powerful, although the effect, vigorous as it is, is made simply by oboes, bassoons, and strings, instead of by the brass instruments which other composers employ so vigorously in similar scenes. This scene closes with an elegy foreboding the coming tragedy.
The third scene opens with the interview between David and the Amalekite who brings the tidings of the death of Saul and Jonathan. It is followed by that magnificent dirge, the "Dead March," whose simple yet solemn and majestic strains are familiar to every one. The trumpets and trombones with their sonorous pomp and the wailing oboes and clarinets make an instrumental pageant which is the very apotheosis of grief. The effect of the march is all the more remarkable when it is considered that, in contradistinction to all other dirges, it is written in the major key. The chorus, "Mourn, Israel, mourn thy Beauty lost," and the three arias of lament sung by David, which follow, are all characterized by feelings of the deepest gloom. A short chorus ("Eagles were not so swift as they") follows, and then David gives voice to his lament over Jonathan in an aria of exquisite tenderness ("In sweetest Harmony they lived"), at the close of which he joins with the chorus in an obligato of sorrowful grandeur ("O fatal Day, how low the Mighty lie!"). In an exultant strain Abner bids the "Men of Judah weep no more," and the animated martial chorus, "Gird on thy Sword, thou Man of Might," closes this great dramatic oratorio.
Samson.
The oratorio of "Samson" was written in 1741, and begun immediately after the completion of "The Messiah," which was finished September 14 of that year. The last chorus was dated October 29; but in the following year Handel added to it "Let the bright Seraphim" and the chorus, "Let their celestial Concerts." The text was compiled by Newburgh Hamilton from Milton's "Samson Agonistes," "Hymn on the Nativity," and "Lines on a Solemn Musick." The oratorio was first sung at Covent Garden, Feb. 18, 1743, the principal parts being assigned as follows: Samson, Mr. Beard;[4] Manoah, Mr. Savage; Micah, Mrs. Cibber; Delilah, Mrs. Clive. The aria, "Let the bright Seraphim," was sung by Signora Avolio, for whom it was written, and the trumpet obligato was played by Valentine Snow, a virtuoso of that period. The performance of "Samson" was thus announced in the London "Daily Advertiser" of Feb. 17, 1743:--
"By subscription. At the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, to-morrow, the 18th inst., will be performed a new oratorio, called _Sampson_. Tickets will be delivered to subscribers (on paying their subscription money) at Mr. Handel's house in Brooke Street, Hanover Square. Attendance will be given from nine o'clock in the morning till three in the afternoon. Pit and boxes to be put together, and no person to be admitted without tickets, which will be delivered that day at the office in Covent Garden Theatre at half a guinea each; first gallery 5_s._; upper gallery, 3_s._ 6_d._"
The representation was greeted with extraordinary enthusiasm, and "Samson" soon became so popular that many had to be turned away; notwithstanding which, the ill-natured Horace Walpole could write, in a letter dated Feb. 24, 1743:--
"Handel has set up an oratorio against the opera, and succeeds. He has hired all the goddesses from the farces, and the singers of roast beef from between the acts at both theatres, with a man with one note in his voice, and a girl without ever an one; and so they sing and make brave hallelujahs, and the good company encore the recitative if it happens to have any cadence like what they call a tune."
The text, as we have said, was adapted from Milton by Hamilton, who says in his preface to the handbook, or libretto:--
"That poem indeed was never divided by Milton into acts or scenes, nor designed for the stage, but given only as the plan of a tragedy with choruses, after the manner of the ancients. But as Mr. Handel had so happily introduced here oratorios, a musical drama, whose subject must be scriptural, and in which the solemnity of church music is agreeably united with the most pleasing airs of the stage, it would have been an irretrievable loss to have neglected the opportunity of that great master's doing justice to this work; he having already added new life and spirit to some of the finest things in the English language, particularly that inimitable ode[5] of Dryden's which no age nor nation ever excelled."
The characters introduced are Samson; Micah, his friend; Manoah, his father; Delilah, his wife; Harapha, a giant of Gath; Israelitish woman; priests of Dagon; virgins attendant upon Delilah; Israelites, friends of Samson; Israelitish virgins; and Philistines. After a brilliant overture, closing, like that to "Saul," with a minuet movement, the scene opens before the prison in Gaza, with Samson blind and in chains. His opening recitative, setting forth his release from toil on account of the feast to Dagon, introduces a brilliant and effective chorus by the priests with trumpets ("Awake the Trumpet's lofty Sound"), after which a Philistine woman in a bright, playful melody invites the men of Gaza to bring "The merry Pipe and pleasing String;" whereupon the trumpet chorus is repeated. After the tenor aria ("Loud is the Thunder's awful Voice"), the chorus recurs again, showing Handel's evident partiality for it. The Philistine Woman has another solo ("Then free from Sorrow"), whereupon in a pathetic song ("Torments, alas!") Samson bewails his piteous condition. His friend Micah appears, and in the aria, "O Mirror of our fickle State," condoles with him. In answer to his question, "Which shall we first bewail, thy Bondage, or lost Sight?" Samson replies in a short, but exquisitely tender aria, "Total Eclipse: no Sun, no Moon, all dark amidst the Blaze of Noon,"--a song which brought tears to the eyes of the blind Handel himself when he listened to it long afterwards. The next chorus ("O first-created Beam") is of more than ordinary interest, as it treats the same subject which Haydn afterwards used in "The Creation." It begins in a soft and quiet manner, in ordinary time, develops into a strong allegro on the words, "Let there be Light," and closes with a spirited fugue on the words, "To Thy dark Servant Life by Light afford." A dialogue follows between Manoah and Micah, leading up to an intricate bravura aria for bass ("Thy glorious Deeds inspired my Tongue"), closing with an exquisite slow movement in broad contrast to its first part. Though comforted by his friends, Samson breaks out in furious denunciation of his enemies in the powerfully dramatic aria, "Why does the God of Israel sleep?" It is followed up in the same spirit by the chorus, "Then shall they know,"--a fugue on two vigorous subjects, the first given out by the altos, and the second by the tenors. Samson's wrath subsides in the recitative, "My genial Spirits droop," and the first act closes with the beautifully constructed chorus, "Then round about the starry Throne," in which his friends console him with the joys he will find in another life.
The second act, after a brief recitative, opens with an aria by Manoah ("Just are the Ways of God to Man"), in which he conjures Samson to repose his trust in God. It is followed by the beautiful prayer of Micah ("Return, return, O God of Hosts"), emphasized by the chorus to which it leads ("To Dust his Glory they would tread"), with which the prayer is interwoven in obligato form. From this point, as Delilah appears, the music is full of bright color, and loses it sombre tone. In a short recitative, she excuses her misdeed, and then breaks out in an aria of sensuous sweetness, "With plaintive Notes and am'rous Moan, thus coos the Turtle left alone." Its bewitching grace, however, makes little impression upon Samson, who replies with the aria, "Your Charms to Ruin led the Way." In another enticing melody, "My Faith and Truth, O Samson, prove," she seeks to induce his return to her house, and a chorus of Virgins add their entreaties. A last effort is made in the tasteful and elegant aria, "To fleeting Pleasures make your Court;" but when that also fails, Delilah reveals her true self. Samson rebukes her "warbling charms," her "trains and wiles," and counts "this prison-house the house of liberty to thine;" whereupon a highly characteristic duet ensues ("Traitor to Love"). An aria for Micah follows ("It is nor Virtue, Valor, Wit"), leading up to a powerful dissertation on masculine supremacy in a fugued chorus which is treated in a spirited manner, and in which we may well fancy that the woman-hating composer gave free rein to his spite:--
"To man God's universal law Gave power to keep his wife in awe. Thus shall his life be ne'er dismayed, By female usurpation swayed."
The giant Harapha now appears, and mocks Samson with the taunt that had he met him before he was blind, he would have left him dead on the field of death, "where thou wrought'st wonders with an ass' jaw." His first number ("Honor and Arms scorn such a Foe") is one of the most spirited and dashing bass solos ever written. Samson replies with the majestic aria, "My Strength is from the living God." The two solos reach their climax in the energetic duet between the giants, "Go, baffled Coward, go." Micah then suggests to Harapha that he shall call upon Dagon to dissolve "those magic spells that gave our hero strength," as a test of his power. The recitative is followed by an impressive six-part chorus ("Hear, Jacob's God") in the true church style. Its smooth, quiet flow of harmony is refreshing as compared with the tumult of the giants' music which precedes, and the sensuousness of the chorus ("To Song and Dance we give the Day") which follows it. The act closes with the massive double chorus ("Fixed in His everlasting Seat") in which the Israelites and Philistines celebrate the attributes of their respective deities and invoke their protection, and in which also the composer brings out with overwhelming effect the majesty and grandeur of God as compared with the nothingness of Dagon.
The third act opens with a dialogue in which Harapha brings the message to Samson that he must repair to the feast of Dagon to delight the Philistines with some of his feats of strength. Upon Samson's refusal, Harapha sings the threatening aria, "Presuming Slave!" The Israelites invoke the protection of God in the spirited chorus, "With Thunder armed," closing with a prayer which changes to wild and supplicating entreaty. Samson at last yields in a tender, pathetic aria ("Thus when the Sun"), which seems to anticipate his fate. In a song of solemn parting ("The Holy One of Israel be thy Guide"), accompanied by the chorus ("To Fame immortal go"), his friends bid him farewell. The festivities begin, and in an exultant chorus ("Great Dagon has subdued our Foe") the Philistines are heard exulting over Samson's discomfiture. Micah and Manoah, hearing the sounds, are filled with anxiety, and the latter expresses his solicitude in the tender aria, "How willing my paternal Love." But the scene suddenly changes. In a short, crashing presto the coming destruction is anticipated. The trembling Israelites express their alarm in the chorus, "Hear us, our God," and appeal to Heaven for protection. A Messenger rushes upon the scene and announces that Samson is dead and has involved the destruction of his enemies in the general calamity. Micah gives expression to his grief in the touching aria, "Ye Sons of Israel, now lament," followed by the Israelites in a sorrowful wail, "Weep, Israel, weep." A funeral march, in the major key, intervenes, full of tender expression of sorrow,--for which, after the first two representations Handel substituted the Dead March from "Saul;" and both marches are now printed in the scores for general use. As at first written, the oratorio closed with the effective chorus and solo, "Bring the Laurels;" but, as has been already said, a year afterwards Handel made a different ending. Manoah calls upon the people to cease their lamentation, and the funeral pageant is followed by the magnificent trumpet aria, "Let the bright Seraphim,"--a song worthy only of the greatest artists, both with voice and instrument,--and the equally magnificent chorus, "Let their celestial Concerts," which closes the great oratorio with triumphant exultation.
[4] "John Beard, a quondam chorister of the Chapel Royal, under Bernard Gates, and afterwards the greatest English tenor singer of his day, achieved one of his brightest triumphs in the part of Samson. His history was romantic. In 1732 he married the Lady Henrietta, daughter of James, Earl of Waldegrave, and widow of Lord Edward Herbert, second son of the Marquis of Powis. In 1759 he took as his second wife Charlotte, daughter of John Rich, the harlequin."--_Rockstro._
[5] Alexander's Feast; or, the Power of Music.
The Messiah.
The "Messiah" represents the ripened product of Handel's genius, and reflects the noblest aspirations and most exalted devotion of mankind. Among all his oratorios it retains its original freshness, vigor, and beauty in the highest degree, in that it appeals to the loftiest sentiment and to universal religious devotion, and is based upon the most harmonious, symmetrical, and enduring forms of the art.
It was begun on the 22d day of August, 1741. The first part was concluded August 28, the second, September 6, the third, September 12, and the instrumentation, September 14. It is an illustration of Handel's almost superhuman capacity for work, that at the age of fifty-six he should have written his masterpiece in twenty-three days. The text was taken from the literal words of Scripture, and the libretto arranged by Charles Jennens, who, singularly enough, was not satisfied with the music which has satisfied the world. In a letter written at that time, he says:--
"I shall show you a collection I gave Handel, called 'Messiah,' which I value highly. He has made a fine entertainment of it, though not near so good as he might and ought to have done. I have with great difficulty made him correct some of the grossest faults in the composition; but he retained his overture obstinately, in which there are some passages far unworthy of Handel, but much more unworthy of the 'Messiah.'"
For two or three years prior to the appearance of the "Messiah," Handel had been harassed by cabals set on foot by rival opera-managers in London, who, by importing Italian singers, drew off the patronage of the nobility, and ultimately succeeded in reducing him to the condition of an insolvent debtor. While in this wretched plight an invitation came to him from the Duke of Devonshire, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, to visit Dublin. He eagerly accepted it, and in the correspondence which passed between them promised to contribute a portion of whatever might accrue from his music to charitable institutions, and also agreed to give an oratorio "for the benefit and enlargement of poor distressed prisoners for debt in the several marshalseas of the city of Dublin." He left London early in November, arriving in that city, after many delays, on the 18th. On the 23d of December he began a series of six musical entertainments, which was completed February 10. His success was so great that he was induced to begin a second series February 17, a fortnight before the close of which appeared the following advertisement:--
"For the Relief of the Prisoners in the several Gaols, and for the Support of Mercer's Hospital, in Stephen's Street, and of the Charitable Infirmary on the Inn's Quay, on Monday, the 12th of April, will be performed at the Musick Hall in Fishamble-street, _Mr. Handel's_ new Grand _Oratorio, called the Messiah_, in which the Gentlemen of the Choirs of both Cathedrals will assist, with some Concertos on the Organ by Mr. Handel."
The first rehearsal took place on the 8th of April, in the presence of "a most Grand, Polite, and Crowded Audience," as we are informed by "Faulkner's Journal." The same paper, referring to the first public performance, which took place on Tuesday, April 13, 1742, says:--
"At the desire of several persons of distinction, the above performance is put off to Tuesday next. The doors will be opened at eleven, and the performance begins at twelve. Many ladies and gentlemen who are well-wishers to this noble and grand charity, for which this oratorio was composed, request it as a favor that the ladies who honor this performance with their presence would be pleased to come without hoops, as it would greatly increase the charity by making room for more company."
Gentlemen were also requested to come without their swords. "In this way," it is said, "the stewards" were able to seat seven hundred persons in the room instead of six hundred. The principal parts in the performance were assigned to Signora Avolio, Mrs. Cibber, and Messrs. Church and Ralph Roseingrane; and Mrs. Cibber's delivery of the aria "He was despised" is said to have been so touching that Dr. Delany, the companion of Swift, exclaimed, as she closed: "Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven."
The "Messiah" was performed thirty-four times during the composer's life, but never upon a scale commensurate with its merits until the Handel Commemoration at Westminster Abbey in 1784, when the largest choir and band that had ever assembled before, with the renowned Madame Mara at the head of the soloists, first gave the "Messiah" to the world in accordance with the grand ideal of the composer. The orchestra was composed as follows: First violins, 40; second violins, 47; tenors, 26; first oboes, 13; second oboes, 13; flutes, 6; violoncellos, 21; double-basses, 15; bassoons, 26; double-bassoon, 1; trumpets, 12; trombones, 6; horns, 12; kettledrums, 3; double-kettledrum, 1: total, 242. The choir was made up as follows: Sopranos, 60, of whom 45 were choir-boys; counter-tenors (altos), 40; tenors, 83; basses, 84: making the entire number of singers 267. Of the performance of the band upon this occasion, Burney quaintly says:--
"Dante in his _Paradiso_ imagines nine circles, or choirs, of cherubs, seraphs, patriarchs, prophets, martyrs, saints, angels, and archangels, who with hand and voice are eternally praising and glorifying the Supreme Being, whom he places in the centre, taking the idea from _Te Deum laudamus_, where it is said: 'To Thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry,' etc. Now, as the orchestra in Westminster Abbey seemed to ascend into the clouds and unite with the saints and martyrs represented on the painted glass in the west window, which had all the appearance of a continuation of the Orchestra, I could hardly refrain, during the performance of the Allelujah, to imagine that this Orchestra, so admirably constructed, filled, and employed, was a point or segment of one of these celestial circles. And perhaps no band of mortal musicians ever exhibited a more respectable appearance to the eye, or afforded a more ecstatic and affecting sound to the ear, than this."
He is equally enthusiastic over the chorus; and of Madame Mara's singing of the aria, "I know that my Redeemer liveth," he says:--
"Her power over the sensibility of the audience seemed equal to that of Mrs. Siddons. There was no eye within my view which did not 'silently a gentle tear let fall,' nor, though long hackneyed in music, did I find myself made of stronger earth than others."
The oratorio is divided into three parts. The first illustrates the longing of the world for the Messiah, prophesies his coming, and announces his birth; the second part is devoted to the sufferings, death, and exaltation of Christ, and develops the spread and ultimate triumph of the Gospel; while the third is occupied with the declaration of the highest truths of doctrine,--faith in the existence of God, the surety of immortal life, the resurrection, and the attainment of an eternity of happiness.
The first part opens with an overture, or rather orchestral prelude, of majestic chords, leading to a short fugue, developed with severe simplicity and preparing the way for the accompanied recitative, "Comfort ye My People," and the aria for tenor, "Every Valley shall be exalted," which in turn leads to the full, strong chorus, "And the Glory of the Lord shall be revealed,"--the three numbers in reality forming one. The prophecy is announced, only to be followed by the human apprehension in the great aria for bass ("But who may abide the Day of His coming"), written in the Sicilian pastoral style,--a form of which, Burney affirms, Handel was very fond. The aria leads to the exquisitely constructed number, "And He shall purify," a fugued chorus closing in simple harmony. Once more the prophet announces, "Behold, a Virgin shall conceive," followed by the alto solo, "O Thou that tellest," which preludes a chorus in the same tempo. The next aria ("The People that walked in Darkness"), with its curious but characteristic modulations, leads to one of the most graphic fugued choruses in the whole work ("For unto us a Child is born"), elegantly interwoven with the violin parts, and emphasized with sublime announcements of the names of the Messiah in full harmony and with the strongest choral power. The grand burst of sound dies away, there is a significant pause, and then follows a short but exquisite Pastoral Symphony for the strings, which with the four succeeding bits of recitative tells the message of the Angels to the Shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem. Suddenly follows the chorus of the heavenly hosts ("Glory to God"), which is remarkably expressive, and affords sharp contrasts in the successive clear responses to the fugue. The difficult but very brilliant aria for soprano, "Rejoice greatly," the lovely aria, "He shall feed His Flock," originally written entire for soprano, in which Handel returns again to the pastoral style, and a short chorus ("His Yoke is easy"), close the first part.
The second part is the most impressive portion of the work. It begins with a majestic and solemn chorus ("Behold the Lamb of God"), which is followed by the aria for alto, "He was despised,"--one of the most pathetic and deeply expressive songs ever written, in which the very key-note of sorrow is struck. Two choruses--"Surely He hath borne our Griefs," rather intricate in harmony, and "With His Stripes we are healed," a fugued chorus written _a capella_ upon an admirable subject--lead to the spirited and thoroughly interesting chorus, "All we like Sheep have gone astray," closing with an adagio of great beauty ("And the Lord hath laid on Him the Iniquity of us all"). This is followed by several short numbers,--a choral fugue ("He trusted in God"), the accompanied recitative ("Thy Rebuke hath broken His Heart"), a short but very pathetic aria for tenor ("Behold and see if there be any Sorrow"), and an aria for soprano ("But Thou didst not leave His Soul in Hell"),--all of which are remarkable instances of the musical expression of sorrow and pity. These numbers lead to a triumphal shout in the chorus and semi-choruses, "Lift up your Heads, O ye Gates," which reach a climax of magnificent power and strongly contrasted effects. After the chorus, "Let all the Angels of God worship Him," a fugue constructed upon two subjects, the aria, "Thou art gone up on high," and the chorus, "The Lord gave the Word," we reach another pastoral aria of great beauty, "How beautiful are the Feet." This is followed by a powerfully descriptive chorus ("Their Sound is gone out into all Lands"), a massive aria for bass ("Why do the Nations"), the chorus, "Let us break their Bonds asunder," and the aria, "Thou shalt break them," leading directly to the great Hallelujah Chorus, which is the triumph of the work and its real climax. It opens with exultant shouts of "Hallelujah." Then ensue three simple phrases, the middle one in plain counterpoint, which form the groundwork for the "Hallelujah." These phrases, seemingly growing out of each other, and reiterated with constantly increasing power, interweaving with and sustaining the "Hallelujah" with wonderful harmonic effects, make up a chorus that has never been excelled, not only in musical skill, but also in grandeur and sublimity. After listening to its performance, one can understand Handel's words: "I did think I did see all heaven before me, and the great God himself." This number closes the second part. It is worthy of note in this connection that when the oratorio was first performed at Covent Garden, London, in 1743, the whole audience, with the King at its head, arose during the singing of the "Hallelujah" and remained standing until it was finished,--a custom which is still observed, not only in England, but also in this country.
If the oratorio had closed at this point it would not have disturbed the unities; but Handel carried it into a third part with undiminished interest, opening it with that sublime confession of faith, "I know that my Redeemer liveth,"--an aria which will never be lost. It is followed by two quartets in plain counterpoint with choral responses, "Since by Man came Death," and "For as in Adam all die," in which the effects of contrast are very forcibly brought out. The last important aria in the work ("The Trumpet shall sound"), for bass with trumpet obligato, will always be admired for its beauty and stirring effect. The oratorio closes with three choruses, all in the same key and of the same general sentiment,--"Worthy is the Lamb," a piece of smooth, flowing harmony; "Blessing and Honor," a fugue led off by the tenors and bassos in unison, and repeated by the sopranos and altos on the octave, closing with full harmony on the words "for ever and ever" several times reiterated; and the final, "Amen" chorus, which is treated in the severest style, and in which the composer evidently gave free rein to his genius, not being hampered with the trammels of words.
Other oratorios may be compared one with another; the "Messiah" stands alone, a majestic monument to the memory of the composer, an imperishable record of the noblest sentiments of human nature and the highest aspirations of man.
Judas Maccabæus.
The oratorio of "Judas Maccabæus" was written in thirty-two days, between July 9 and Aug. 11, 1746, upon the commission of Frederic, Prince of Wales, to celebrate the return of the Duke of Cumberland from Scotland after the decisive victory of Culloden, April 16, 1746. The words were written by the Rev. Thomas Morell, D.D., a learned Greek scholar of that time, the plot being taken from the narrative of the exploits of the Jewish deliverer contained in the first book of Maccabees and in the twelfth book of Josephus' "Antiquities of the Jews." In his dedication, Dr. Morell says:--
"To His Royal Highness Prince William, Duke of Cumberland, this faint portraiture of a truly wise, valiant, and virtuous commander as the possessor of the like noble qualities is, with the most profound respect and veneration, inscribed by His Royal Highness' most obedient and most devoted servant the author."
To what extremes of adulation even a doctor of divinity may go, is well shown in Schoelcher's pithy comment: "This is addressed to a man who pitilessly murdered as many prisoners after the battle as his courage had slain enemies during the combat." It is but just to the composer, however, to say that the great success of this oratorio had little to do with the political causes which led to its composition. It was first performed at Covent Garden, April 1, 1747, and was repeated six times that year. Handel himself conducted it thirty-eight times with ever growing popularity, to which the Jews contributed greatly, as it glorified an episode in their national history.
The characters represented are Judas Maccabæus; Simon, his brother; an Israelitish Messenger; and Israelitish Men and Women. The story may be gathered from the following summary of the plot as prepared for the Birmingham Festival of 1861:--