In Tuneful Accord. Trevor Beeson

particular challenges, the response to which could well determine, for better or for worse, the future of something fundamental to the life of the church.

      In doing this, as in the writing of the book itself, I have been deeply conscious of my amateur status in the field of church music and also of my aim to engage with other amateurs and general readers. There is nothing here about ‘E minor triads’ or ‘fourths’ or even ‘pentatonic scales’. But, over the course of a long ministry in the Church of England, I have experienced church music in a considerable variety of settings – a Durham coal-mining village, a Teesside new housing area, St Martin-in-the-Fields in Trafalgar Square, a Hertfordshire market town, Westminster Abbey, Winchester Cathedral, and now Romsey Abbey and five small Hampshire villages.

      During this time I have been fortunate enough to accumulate a large number of friends and former colleagues who are among the leading practitioners in the field and on another page I express my indebtedness to them for their most generous assistance and encouragement. They must of course be exonerated from any responsibility for the use I have made of their guidance.

      Once again Kathleen James has worked wonders with a much-amended, often barely decipherable, handwritten script, and Fiona Mather has lent an invaluable hand with the research. My best thanks to them for their contributions.

      Romsey

      TB

      Trinity Sunday 2009

      Acknowledgements

      I acknowledge with much gratitude the assistance patiently and enthusiastically given to me by many friends and former colleagues whose knowledge of church music is infinitely greater than my own. Their contribution has been invaluable.

      Canon Roger Job, sometime Academical Clerk, Magdalen College, Oxford; Precentor, Manchester Cathedral; Westminster Abbey; Winchester Cathedral.

      Martin Neary, sometime Organist, St Margaret’s, Westminster; Organist and Master of the Music, Winchester Cathedral; Organist and Master of the Choristers, Westminster Abbey.

      Malcolm Archer, sometime Organist and Master of the Choristers at Bristol, Wells and St Paul’s Cathedrals; now Director of the Chapel Choir, Winchester College.

      James Bowman, Counter-tenor; sometime Academical Clerk, New College, Oxford; Lay Vicar, Westminster Abbey; now Gentleman of the Chapel Royal.

      Dr Francis Jackson, sometime Organist, York Minster.

      Gordon Appleton, sometime Master of the Music, Perth Cathedral, Australia; since 1993 on the staff of the Royal School of Church Music, working mainly in the North of England; Director of the Northern Cathedral Singers.

      Sir David Lumsden, sometime Rector Chori, Southwell Minster; Organist, New College, Oxford; Principal of the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama; Principal of the Royal Academy of Music.

      David Hill, sometime Organ Scholar, St John’s College, Cambridge; Master of the Music, Westminster Cathedral; Organist and Master of the Music, Winchester Cathedral; Director of Music, St John’s College, Cambridge; now Conductor of the BBC Singers; Musical Director of the Bach Choir; Associate Guest Conductor, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra.

      Katharine Edmonds, Organist at St John’s Church, Farley Chamberlayne, and St Mary’s Church, Michelmersh, Hampshire.

      Andrew Lumsden, sometime Organ Scholar of St John’s College, Cambridge; Sub-Organist, Westminster Abbey; Organist and Director of Music, Lichfield Cathedral; now Organist and Director of Music, Winchester Cathedral.

      Canon Charles Stewart, sometime Choral Scholar, St John’s College, Cambridge; Precentor, Bath Abbey; Precentor, Winchester Cathedral; now Vicar of Walton on Thames; conductor of Southern Voices.

      The Very Revd Charles Taylor, sometime Organ Scholar of Selwyn College, Cambridge; Chaplain, Westminster Abbey, Precentor, Lichfield Cathedral; now Dean of Peterborough.

      The Very Revd Paul Burbridge, sometime Precentor of York Minster; Archdeacon of Richmond; Dean of Norwich.

      William Kendall, sometime Choral Scholar of St John’s College, Cambridge; now Tenor, Winchester Cathedral.

      Irvine Watson, whose experience of the music of York Minster extends from the time of Sir Edward Bairstow to the present day.

      Readers will share my gratitude to them all.

      1. The Changing Pattern of Anglican Worship

      Music, in common with the spoken word, silence, ceremonial, furnishings and architecture, is always a servant of the liturgy. That is to say, it is an aid to a community seeking to respond to God in worship and adoration. It follows therefore that changes in liturgical understanding and application will always influence the use, and often the content, of the music.

      Until about 1840 there had been no significant change in the Church of England’s use of the Book of Common Prayer since its introduction in 1662. Music played little part in the worship of the parish churches and in the cathedrals its performance had declined in quality to a point where it was more of a hindrance than a help. As the nineteenth century progressed, however, this changed, partly as a consequence of a deepening of understanding, particularly of the place of the Eucharist, and partly because of the Victorian zest for ‘improvement’ in all things.

      A serious attempt to revise the Book of Common Prayer failed in 1928, though some changes in the content of some services were permitted. But it was not until the 1950s that the constraining floodgate was breached and during the next 50 years the Church of England experienced more changes in its forms of worship, as indeed in many other aspects of its life, than it had during the whole of the previous 400 years.

      The music of the church was inevitably affected by this New Reformation, as it has been called, and any study of the development of this music during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries requires awareness of the development of the liturgy itself.

      The state of the Church of England during the early decades of the nineteenth century continues to divide historians. In some respects the evidence is, as might be expected, varied and furthermore not always entirely reliable, having been transmitted by partisan messengers. Certain facts are nonetheless reasonably clear. The bishops were scandalously negligent in the performance of their episcopal ministries and had more in common with the aristocracy of their time than with their apostolic ancestors. Inasmuch as the Church of England was, and remains, essentially a parochial church this lamentable state of affairs was much less significant than it would have been in a more centralized institution. The parishes relied on their bishops only for the ordination of a sufficient supply of clergymen and possibly for an occasional Confirmation, though even this was often regarded as an optional extra.

      The congregations attending church were still large. Attendance at worship was no longer enforced legally, but the social pressure to conform remained strong and the parish church had the central place in a closely knit community life. It was ‘natural’ to share in the worship on Sundays and the church’s teaching was regarded as an infallible guide to daily living. The clergy were, as always, of mixed ability and conscientiousness. There were far too many absentees from parishes, as many as three-fifths were said to be elsewhere. Pluralism, caused sometimes by sheer avarice, but more often by the need to combine several parishes in order to produce a reasonable income for one priest, was a serious problem. But by and large the clergy, many of them poorly paid curates, were diligent in carrying out their duties – in the conducting of worship, albeit it often slovenly, careful preparation of sermons, teaching of children, pastoral care of every soul in the parish and administering a mini-welfare state for the benefit of the poor and needy.

      There was, however, a major deficiency almost everywhere, the existence of which can hardly be denied. The parish churches and cathedrals were places of formal conformity to a prescribed religion rather than centres of corporate holiness in which the mystery of the divine could be frequently experienced by the individual believer. Much of this was due to the prevailing theology which for the previous 100 years had been predominantly rationalist and ethical. But even more was due