Twelve months before the dedication of the church and college the bishop appointed Ouseley to be also precentor of Hereford Cathedral. This ancient office, with a seat on the chapter, was worth £500 a year (a considerable sum at that time) but for more than 100 years none of its holders had discharged any of its duties, or even been qualified to do so. Ouseley was both eminently qualified and enthusiastic, and although the reforming Ecclesiastical Commission took the opportunity to disendow the stall, his own private income enabled him to accept the responsibilities. These were supervisory and did not require his daily attendance, though he was in Hereford frequently and towards the end of his life became a canon residentiary.
At Oxford he instituted a course of lectures in music – something unknown for 100 years or more – and revised the standard of the degrees. Candidates for the DMus were required not only to submit a substantial composition of their own, but also face a public examination on historical and critical aspects of music, and even an examination on the rudiments of the classics. In the first year of the new regime 50 per cent of the candidates failed and Ouseley was confronted in the streets of Oxford by angry, and sometimes tearful, failures. He met all the costs of the new arrangements which included additional courses of lectures.
Some of his time at Tenbury, which extended until his death while in residence at Hereford in 1889, was devoted to the accumulation of antiquarian music books and manuscripts for his personal library. These included a copy of the Messiah partly in the handwriting of Handel and used by him as a conducting score for its first performance in Dublin in 1742, Thomas Tomkins’s Musica Deo Sacra (1668), the huge organ book that bears the name of Adrian Batten (1591–1637) and much music of the Palestrina school; many manuscripts of operas from the Palais Royal Library in Paris were also acquired. The college had its own general library, which was said to equal that of many Oxford and Cambridge colleges. The most notable, and perhaps the most unlikely, alumnus of the college is Jonathan Harvey, whose late twentieth-century atonal music, employing electronic sound, would undoubtedly have astonished its founder.
7. The Parish Church Choirs
The origins of the ‘traditional’ parish church choir, clad in cassock and surplice and occupying stalls in the chancel, is nothing like as ancient as is commonly imagined. The first recorded instance of such a choir is dated 1818 when six men and six boy choristers led the worship at Leeds Parish Church. Not long after this St James’s Church at Ryde in the Isle of Wight followed suit. The model for both was the cathedral choir.
There may have been other, unrecorded examples of this innovation but they were probably few and far between. The pioneers of the Oxford Movement were not concerned with ceremonial matters, but their successors, the so-called Ritualists, were and by about 1860 surpliced choirs were widespread and not confined to churches that had embraced the revived High Church tradition. Those that had were encouraged by J. M. Neale, the medievalist and hymn writer, who believed that, since the chancel was always intended to be the place for those leading the worship, and since choirs had this role, the chancel was the place – the only place – where they ought to be. For the most part, however, the changes were a reaction against the dull west gallery singers, in their ordinary clothes and with their often casual behaviour, and were motivated by a desire that worship should be more seemly.
It was not to be expected, however, that the removal of the singers from one end of a building to the other, combined with an investment in robes, would inevitably lead to an improvement in performance. In fact the standard of music remained low, though some brave attempts were made to remedy this. The short-lived Society for Promoting Church Music (1846–51) encouraged choirs to do better and supplied its members with well-written simple music. In 1888 a Church Choir Guild was formed, with the support of Archbishop Frederick Temple of Canterbury and Sir George Elvey, the organist of St George’s Chapel, Windsor. The Victorian desire and energy for improvement had now reached this part of the church’s life and in 1905 the Guild became the Incorporated Guild of Church Musicians, expanding to include organists and others involved in the making of music. Later the prefix was dropped and by this time the Guild had embarked on an ambitious educational programme, with its own certificates and diplomas related to the leadership of worship. In 1961 it took over the administration of the Archbishop’s Certificate in Church Music and in 1988 it became ecumenical. The Church Music Society, started in 1906, also aimed to raise standards and Sydney Nicholson’s involvement in its work was one of the factors that led to the founding of what became the Royal School of Church Music.
Another initiative, which proved to be of great importance, was the founding in 1864 of the College of Organists, which was given a Royal Charter in 1893. This was the idea of Richard Limpus, the organist of St Michael’s, Cornhill, in the City of London, and had the initial aim of ‘elevating and advancing our professional status’. Although membership was not confined to church organists, most of the professional organists were employed by cathedrals and churches. As the college expanded and involvement in high-quality music increased generally, this changed, but ambitious church organists and, later, choir directors have always looked to it as an institution that upholds the highest standards and awards prestigious diplomas. Few professional organists are without the ARCO, or, more commonly, the FRCO and there is also a diploma in choral directing. The college also moved into the fields of education and training and now has links with all the major music schools in Britain. It has a busy programme of lectures and recitals, as well as an important music library, and over the years has numbered some of the most distinguished musicians among its presidents. Its influence on the standard of church music has been considerable, though the number of organists and choir directors who have obtained diplomas is relatively small.
That the college was founded by a London parish church organist is a pointer to the fact that during the latter part of the nineteenth century there were here and there, in the cities and larger towns, highly competent organists who began to work wonders with their choirs. This was particularly so in the City of London, as reported by Charles Box, a well-informed and reforming church musician who published in 1884 Church Music in the Metropolis. He included a survey of the music performed by each of the 68 churches within the City during the previous three years, based on visits (sometimes more than once) by himself and a few collaborators.
These churches, obviously, cannot be regarded as typical of those of the Church of England as a whole. Their location, number and in most cases their financial resources make them exceptional, but not quite as exceptional as they would become during the twentieth century when wartime bombing reduced their number and huge economic and social changes decimated the size of the City’s population. Today there are only 22 parishes, augmented by 12 Guild churches that do not normally have Sunday services.
The parishes of the churches surveyed all had resident populations. Most were, by modern standards, small – under 1,000 – but a significant number had 6,000 or more. A few were held in plurality, but normally each had its own rector or vicar, possibly a curate or two, and churchwardens who had civic as well as ecclesiastical responsibilities. Mattins with a sermon, followed by Ante-Communion, and Evensong and sermon, were normal every Sunday, and in a handful of churches, influenced by the Oxford Movement, there was a Sunday Eucharist. Weekday services were not uncommon.
The size of the congregations was often very small – 15 to 20 people, though there might be more on special occasions, and in a few places every seat was occupied. But virtually