The Early English Organ Builders and their work

Front matter

THE EARLY ENGLISH

ORGAN BUILDERS

AND THEIR WORK

Dedication

To EDWIN GEORGE MONK, Mus.Doc. Oxon. Organist and Choirmaster of York Minster.

My dear Monk,

In placing your name at the head of this page, I not only wish to express my opinion of your talents as a Church musician, but also to record my high esteem for you as a man.

Lecture

THE EARLY ENGLISH

ORGAN BUILDERS

AND THEIR WORKS.

In responding to the wish of the Council of the College of Organists, that I should deliver a lecture before its body, I have chosen for my subject "The Early English Organ Builders and their Works, from the Fifteenth Century to the Period of the Great Rebellion." This offers a new field of inquiry, and one of great interest to the English organist. I have not adopted it, however, without some little hesitation, fearing that it might be considered of too archæological a character to come within the legitimate objects of this institution. But, after giving the matter due consideration in all its bear , I arrived at the conclusion that the organist cannot be too minutely acquainted with the history of his instrument in order that he may reason upon the various points that may arise in the course of his studies, and draw his inferences from correct data.

No subject in connection with musical art, however remotely, should be ignored by this College. The object of the lectures should be to impart information and to educate the mind of the organist, so that he may take his place upon an equality with the professors of the other arts and sciences. That he does not do so, at present, is, I think, evident, from the way in which music is spoken of out of doors by our legislators and by many men eminent in literature—men, who, both from position and education, ought certainly to know better. Take, for instance, the late discussion in the House of Commons, in which musicians generally were spoken of as mere buffoons, public toys, little better in the scale of art than the strolling player or the conjuror! Again, one of our modern popular writers of fiction, who masks himself under the designation of "Cornelius O'Dowd," thus gives his opinion of the musical profession in one of the recent numbers of "Blackwood":

Mendelssohn alone of all our present-day men had genius: as for the others, there is not one of them whose worst ballad is not better than he who wrote it. They are the shallowest thinkers, the worst informed on matters of general interest, and the poorest conversationalists the world produces. They are as circumscribed as the actor, and they have not that humoristic tendency which gives to the actor all the emphasis of his character. Next in order to musicians come hairdressers.

What shall we say to the pitiful scribbler whose knowledge of our glorious art and its professors is so warped and so shallow! Words are useless; it were better to leave him in the undisturbed possession of his own feelings. We have, however, the satisfaction of believing in the maxim of our immortal poet, that "such a man is not to be trusted;" or with Luther, who exclaims, "Whoever despises music I am displeased with him. Next to theology I give a place to music; for thereby all anger is forgotten, the devil is driven away, and melancholy and many tribulations, and evil thoughts are expelled."

That music does not receive due recognition in this country is certain, from the way in which its professors are treated. Men of science, literature, poets, painters, architects—indeed, men of almost every calling, not excepting opulent tradesmen, are received into the highest circles; but musicians rarely, if ever.

It behoves us, then, to take a stand, to raise our voice and to proclaim to the world our right to occupy a certain position in society—a position from which at present we are excluded. And if, in some instances, this exclusion be not quite unjust, so much the more does it become our duty towards our profession and ourselves "to extend our knowledge on all subjects, especially those connected with our art, as the best means of internally strengthening ourselves to resist the external prejudice.

The establishment of this College, then, is of the highest importance in bringing forward the peculiar claims of the church musician. We are a body of musicians gathered together for one specific purpose, and bound by one common tie to advance as far as may be the honourable calling of Professor of Music, more especially as relates to the important office of organist, and to claim the proper recognition of his true position in society. Let us, then, never forget the object for which this institution has been founded.

Without further preface, I shall commence my subject, which may be considered as an "unwritten chapter" in the history of the organ.

We are sometimes inclined to overrate the progress of our own time in any branch of knowledge, and to believe that no previous age, nation or individual, has ever arrived at the same degree of de as ourselves. This may be true in some measure as regards the art of organ building, but it must not be forgotten that in early times there lived men famous in this craft—men who devoted their lives and genius to its improvement, and whose names ought surely to be handed down, and a place assigned them, in the roll of those who have honourably contributed to the advancement of the art they professed.

The works of the mediæval organ builders which once resounded in our abbeys and cloisters—those monuments of Gothic art now fast mouldering into dust—have, it is true, long since passed away; but records of many of those works exist, and such records as can now be recovered from their oblivion, may perhaps furnish useful subjects of reflection to the present generation.

The early history of the organ, I need scarcely tell you, is involved in great obscurity, and the more we attempt to investigate the facts that have come down to us, and to reconcile conflicting statements, the more perplexed does the subject appear.

As regards the origin of this noble instrument, we may safely assume it to have been the simple series of reeds of various lengths, blown into by the mouth of the performer at the upper ends, and known as the Pipes of Pan. The Greek and Latin shepherds made this primitive instrument of strong reeds, or some other suitable wood. It consisted originally of seven or eight reeds of graduated length, fastened together with wax. The number was afterwards extended to ten or twelve. The Syrinx or Pipes of Pan, by its form and arrangement, may be regarded as the first kind of organ building; for here were a number of pipes placed together in ranks, according to their succession of tones, and sounded by wind.

To obviate the fatiguing motion of the head or hands, by inflating the pipes in some other manner, seems to have been the object of desired attainment for cen . At length this was accomplished. Among the Cicilian antiquities discovered in Syria, and recently brought to this country by Mr. W. B. Barker, is the portion of a figure playing upon a musical instrument of singular curiosity and interest. This instrument, of which I have here a drawing, forms a connecting link between the pipes of Pan and the organ.

Let us examine it. It consists of a vertical row of pipes, the length unknown, as the lower portion is wanting; they are inserted into a small air-chest, which appears inflated in the middle part. The right hand is operating upon it with a kind of cushion or compress, by which the performer forces the air into the pipes, and which he seems to apply to different parts of the instrument at will. There appears to have been a prolongation of the central part of the instrument across the left arm: the loss of this is much to be lamented, as that would have shown us more of its construction, and also how the left hand was employed in playing it. This curious relic may be looked upon as the earliest attempt to combine the pneumatic chest with the Pandean organ, which still retains its place on the breast of the player, though he no longer operates upon it with his mouth.

I need hardly say that this monument is of the highest importance in the history of the organ. It has never been pointed out by any musical writer, and I may fairly take to myself the credit of giving it a place in our musical history.

An enigmatical description of the organ by Julian the philosopher—or, as some call him, the Apostate—first noticed by Ducange, has frequently been cited by modern writers. Burney misunderstood it, and Fétis has given it quite a wrong meaning. The enigma is this: "I see a row of reeds; surely from another and a brazen soil have they quickly sprung. Nor are they agitated by our winds, but a blast rushing from a cavern of bull’s-hide makes its way from below the root of reeds with many openings; and a highly gifted man with nimble fingers handles the yieldling rods of the pipes, while they, softly vibrating, press out the sound."

This enigma so accurately describes the ancient monument I have just brought under your notice, that, taking them together, the pictorial representation and the poetical description, we have a complete refutation of M. Fétis's opinion, that it was not the organ but the bag-pipe, that was known to the ancients.

I do not intend to follow the various steps that were made from time to time to bring nearer to perfection the rude instrument we have just seen; suffice it to say that the organ had its origin from these primitive attempts. If we admit this, which I think we must, what a marvel then, it is, that our glorious organ, with its myriads of pipes, its net-work of mechanical detail, its powerful wind apparatus, its array of stops, and its tiers of key-boards for hands and feet; what a marvel, I say, that this "king of instruments" should have arisen out of such rude and simple beginning.

Very little is known of the organs of ancient Greece; and it is very difficult to understand the classic authors who mention them. M. de Caumont, a modern French writer, says, "The ancients appear to have known two sorts of organ—the hydraulic and the pneumatic, but they were both acted upon by means of æriform fluid, which in the first would be the effect of a fall of water, as in our forges, or of a current of water which turned a wheel, which of itself moved some secret handle; or rather by the steam of boiling water, as in our steam engines; or lastly by means of hydraulic bellows."

Ctesibius of Alexandria (who flourished according to the best accounts, about a century before Christ), a great mechanic, is said to have made many improvements in the wind apparatus of the organ, but the descriptions of his labours that have been handed down to us are scarcely intelligible, and certainly would not repay the time and thought required to elucidate them.

One thing is certain with regard to the ancient organ of Greece—it was unprovided with a wind-chest. The air was generated in certain cylindrical vessels and supplied direct to the pipes, the number of vessels, depending, of course, upon the number of pipes and the size of the instrument. The supply of wind thus obtained must have been very unequal, but it was probably adequate to the small requirements of this early period.

A very interesting treatise on pneumatics by one Hero of Alexandria, supposed to have been a pupil of Ctesibius, has lately been translated from the original Greek, and published by Mr. Bennet Woodcroft. Hitherto we have been content to rely on Vitruvius for our know of the ancient organ, but now we have an independent authority; for the work of Hero was unknown to Vitruvius, and both describe, with considerable differences, the construction of the hydraulic and of the pneumatic organ.

Having briefly pointed out the treatise of Hero of Alexandria, for the benefit of those who think it worth while to investigate the subject, I shall merely call your attention to this ancient author's drawing of "An altar organ blown by the agency of a wind-mill." The cylindrical vessel forcing the air into the pipes by means of a piston is here shown.

In our own days, in a journal of only twenty-five years back, we read that "a novel organ has lately been erected by the Prince Brancaforte, upon a hill in his park, near Messina: it is supplied with wind by a wind-mill, and can be distinctly heard two or three miles distant."

Probably the Italian prince thought that he had hit upon a novelty when he erected his wind-mill organ; but we now find that his device had been anticipated more than eighteen hundred years before.

Organs were early introduced into the Christian Church—indeed at a much earlier period than is commonly assigned. According to Julianus, a Spanish bishop who flourished in 450, they were in use in his time. Aldhelm the Anglo-Saxon, who died in 709, mentions them, and speaks of the gilding of the external pipes. This passage in the De Laude Virginum, as Mr. Sharon Turner justly observes, is alone sufficient to refute the generally received story of Muratori, that the first organ in Europe was that sent by the Emperor Constantine V to King Pepin in 756. In 812, Louis Le Debonnaire placed one in the Church of Aix-la-Chappelle; and one is mentioned as having been erected at Winchester in the tenth century.

Gervase the Monk, describing the destruction of the Cathedral of Canterbury by fire in 1174, especially mentions the burning of the organ; and Durandus, in the thirteenth century, alludes to the organ as common in the churches of his time. These facts completely refute the notion of Bingham and his followers that the instrument was first introduced into the Church by Marinus Sanutus in 1290.

The organ erected in the monastery at Winchester, just mentioned, requires more than a passing notice. It is described by a monk named Wulstan, whose fidelity, as Lingard remarks, cannot be questioned, since he dedicated his "Life of St. Swithin," in which the description occurs, to Elphegus, Bishop of Winchester, by whose order the organ was erected, about the middle of the tenth century.

To quote the lengthy account left us by the good monk, and the absurd deductions that have been made from it would occupy more time than we could spare; suffice it to say that Mr. Wackerbarth, in his "Music and the Anglo-Saxons," states that he believes that it possessed registers or stops, and a key-board furnished with all the chromatic semi-tones! Mr. Arthur Ashpitel, a modern writer and archæologist, believes all this, and much more. He thinks it had "forty stops!" and after summing up his opinions, concludes with this remarkable passage:—"The instrument, therefore, would be the size of that mag one at St. Sepulchre's, Newgate Street!"

Now I think that this lecture on the Early History of the Organ, is not without its use, if it only clears up some of these important points, about which clever and even scientific men are daily making mistakes. The slightest investigation into the progress of the science of music would alone aid us materially in drawing our conclusions, even without the valuable assistance of archæology; but when both are combined, we feel that we are treading on sure ground.

The organ described by Wulstan was a most primitive instrument, without registers or stops, of any kind, and unprovided with a key-board. Its compass is uncertain, but the only chromatic note it possessed was the B flat It had a set of rods or levers, in connection with the pipes; and the performance of the organ consisted in drawing these to and fro, as the sounds of the various pipes they covered were required. It had four hundred pipes, and twenty-six pair of bellows; but as it had no wind-chest this number was required to supply the unusually large number of pipes.

All doubts upon the matter, should any exist, may be set at rest by a perusal of Theophilus' valuable treatise upon the "Art of Organ Building," a work of the latter part of the eleventh century to which I was the first to call attention in my "History of the Organ." No one, after reading the worthy monk's curious directions for organ building, will question the primitive state of the art at this early period.

I may also, in passing, correct an error which has become very prevalent as regards a similar organ, of the same date, described as being in Westminster Abbey. Dom. Bedos, and after him Mason, La Trobe, Wackerbarth, Professor Pole, Seidel, Ashpitel, and a host of others, all cite the fact; but it is purely a mistake—giving the name Westminster instead of Winchester—which, originating with Dom. Bedos, has been handed down to the present day without investigation.

In the twelfth century many general improvements may be traced in the continental organs—improvements which, however, made but small way in our own country. The keyboard was invented, and although of very clumsy mechanism, it was a step in the right direction. Each key was originally many inches broad, and struck down by the fist of the performer, a method resembling that of carillon playing still in use in some parts of France, Germany and Holland. The use of compound stops also became known towards the end of this century, and the examples of Hucbald and Guido found illustration and interpretation.

A gradual course of improvement is traced in organs erected at Dijon in the thirteenth century, at Halberstad in 1360, and at Nuremberg in 1468, about which period pipes of the large dimension of sixteen and of thirty-two feet began to be made. The clumsy keys had disappeared long before, and the number of those which replaced them was increased both upwards and downwards. In fact the progress of harmony rendered these improvements inevitable.

Chromatic notes now gradually began to appear in the keyboard; the F sharp in the fourteenth century; the C sharp and E flat early in the following century; and the G sharp towards its close. The B flat was contained in the Winchester organ before alluded to, and probably in many of the earlier instruments, as it formed part of the Greek scale.

Before the close of the sixteenth century all the principal stops now employed had come into use, and the general plan of a large organ, in all its most important particulars was fully developed.

I have now arrived at that part of my lecture when it will be necessary to introduce to your notice some of those old English worthies in the craft of organ-building, whose names are now to be added to the roll of fame.

But first, let me again remind you that our own country did not keep pace with Germany and Holland in organ building. What was the cause of this? We must not plead the nature of our forms of religious worship; for the countries I have named bear witness that Protestantism by no means tends to discourage the use or the improvement of the organ. Perhaps the cause of the evil is to be traced to our general indifference as regards musical matters, and more especially when in connection with religious worship. But to dwell upon this theme would lead us far away from our subject matter.

The Precentor's accounts of Ely Cathedral for the year 1407, give the earliest details of the "Expenses of making an Organ," with which I am acquainted Translated from the Latin they read as follows:

|s. | |d.

"20 Stones of lead | |16 | |9

4 White horses' hides for 4 pair of bellows | |7 | |8

Ashen hoops for the bellows | |4

10 Pairs of hinges | |1 | |10

The Carpenter, 8 days making the bellows | |2 | |8

12 Springs | |3

1 Pound of glue | |1

1 Pound of tin | |3

6 Calf skins | |2 | |6

12 Sheep skins | |2 | |4

2 Pounds of quicksilver | |2 | |0

Wire, nails, cloth, hoops and staples | |1 | |0

Fetching the organ-builder and his board, 13 weeks | |40 | |0

Total | |£3 17 | |8"

The small proportion of tin, and the large quantity of lead made use of for the pipes is remarkable. The quicksilver was probably used to silver the latter; or perhaps to soften the other metals. It is to be regretted that the maker's name is not given, but we may be sure that he was a Monk.

The Fabric Rolls of York Minster are among the earliest and most interesting documents of their class. Particulars of the "organs" commence as early as 1399, and in 1419 we have the following entries:

"For constructing two pair of bellows for the organ, 46s. 8d.

"For constructing the ribs of the bellows of the same organ, by John Couper, 12d."

A representation of the instrument, of this date, is still existing in York Cathedral; beneath the great niche over the west window, of which there is an organ carved in the pediment; the pipes appear without a case, and it has a single row of keys on which an angel is playing from a music-book held by two small boys or choristers below, while another is behind blowing the organ with a pair of common bellows. A similar device is carved over a door on the north wall of the Cathedral of Utrecht.

It is doubtful whether John Couper was the builder of the organ, or merely the carpenter. The ambiguity of the scribe has perhaps deprived this worthy of the honour of being the earliest English organ builder on record.

The next entry, in 1457, is more clear:

"To John Roose, brother of the order of Preaching Friars, who repaired and restored the organ at the altar of the B. V. M. in the Cathedral Church of the City of York, and one pair of bellows for the same, 36s. 8d."

Again, under the date 1469, we have:

"To brother John for constructing two pair of bellows for the great organ, and repairing of the same, 15s. 2d."

Both these entries undoubtedly relate to the same person; and to Father John Roose must be awarded the distinction of being the first English organ builder of whom we have any authentic account.

Other entries occur in the York records where "organ menders" are mentioned. In 1470, we have the name of George Gaunte; and in 1473, of Richard Sowerby. But in 1485 we have the following specific and curious entry:

"To John Hewe for repairing the organ at the altar of B. V. M. in the Cathedral Church, and for carrying the same to the House of the Minorite Brethren, and for bringing back the same to the Cathedral Church, 13s. 9d."

This is the earliest instance I have found of a practice afterwards common—that of one church lending another its organ.

Surely no further proof need be required of the smallness of our cathedral organs at the end of the fifteenth century.

But I must remind you that it was not uncommon before the Reformation for a cathedral to possess several organs. The York records particularly mention the organ at the altar, and the large organ in the choir. It was the smaller organ that was lent to the Minorite Brethren. There were doubtless several other organs in the various chapels. The Cathedral of Worcester had three organs; one in the Chapel of St. Edmund; another in the Chapel of St. George; and a large organ in the choir. Davies, of Kidwelly, in his "Ancient Rites of Durham," has left us a curious passage concerning the organs of that rich foundation. He says:

"There were three pair of organs belonging to the said quire, for maintenance of God's service, and the better celebrating thereof. One of the fairest pair of the three stood over the quire door, only opened and played upon on principal feasts, the pipes being all of the most fine wood, and workmanship very fine, partly gilt upon the inside, and the outside of the leaves and covers up to the top, with branches and flowers finely gilt, with the name of Jesus gilt with gold. There were but two pair more of them in all England of the same making; one in York and another in Paul's. Also there was a lantern of wood like unto a pulpit, standing and adjoining to the wood-organs over the quire door, where they had wont to sing the nine lessons in the old time, on principal dayes, standing with their faces towards the high altar. The second part stood on the north side of the quire, being never played upon but when the four doctors of the Church were read, viz., Augustine, Ambrose, Gregory and Jerome, being a pair of fair large organs, called the Cryers. The third pair were daily used at ordinary service."

This being the first time the expression "a pair of organs" has occurred, I may as well explain that it meant simply an organ with more pipes than one. Johnson, Heywood, and other of the old writers, always use the term pair in the sense of an aggregate, and as synonymous with set; thus we have "a pair of beads," "a pair of cards," "a pair of chessmen," "a pair of organs." When speaking of a flight of stars we often say a pair of stars. We also have "a pair of steps"; so this ancient form of expression, although obsolete in most cases, is still in use at the present day.

This old expression has been a source of great vexation to archæologists, as well as to musical writers. Albert Way thought that the term had reference to the "double bellows." Douce, that it referred to an instrument "with a double row of pipes." Nichols, the historian of Leicestershire, says, "a pair of organs was the term at that time when there were two kinds of organs, the one fixed and the other portable." A more recent writer, Mr. Ashpitel, enlarging upon this passage, adds, "a payre of organs consisted of two organs conjoined, with two sets of keys one above the other; one small, and called the choir, or more probably the chayre organ; and the other the great organ, built, as its name imports, on a large scale, and used in forte passages." This is by far the most erroneous explanation of the term yet given. It was probably hastily penned, as the writer is far too well acquainted with ancient documents to have written it after even the slightest reflection. Let us hope, however, that the question is set at rest for the future.

The Household Book of the Duke of Norfolk, an interesting document of the fifteenth century, printed by the Rox Club in 1844, has a valuable entry for our purpose. Under the date of 1482 we read:

"Item, the xxi. day of March, my Lord payd Robert Borton of Stowmarket, the organ-maker, for mendyng of organys, vijs."

This person, from his being called "organ-maker of Stowmarket," was, in all probability, a professional builder, not a priest. This conjecture receives some confirmation from an entry that immediately follows the one just given, where the person spoken of is styled priest:

"Item, the same tyme my Lord toke Sir William Davyes, the pryst, to pay for a lok [lock?] to the orgyns, iiijd."

Sir was formerly the designation of certain members of the clergy. Bishop Percy says: "Within the limits of my own memory all Readers in chapels were called Sirs, and of old have been writ so; whence, I suppose, such of the laiety as received the noble order of knighthood, being called Sirs too, for distinction sake had Knight writ after them, which had been superfluous if the title Sir had been peculiar to them."

Some very curious illustrations of the history of the organ in the fifteenth century may be gleaned from old wills. It is not curiosity merely that is gratified by these inquiries, but we receive ample scope for philosophical reflection in contemplating the customs, habits and superstitious bigotry which prevailed at this distant era.

In the will of John Baret, of Bury, dated 1463, we have this clause:

"Item, I wille yt eche man yt syngy it prykked songe on ye day of my enterment at our ladyes messe have ijd. and ye players at ye orgenys ijd., and eche child id., and yt yei preyid [be begged] to dyner the same day."

Lord John Beauchamp, who made his will in 1475, says:

"My body to be buried in the Church of the Dominican Friars at Worcester, in a new chapel there now to be made on the north side of the quire, to which house of friars, for my burial there I bequeath xx marks to be bestowed in vestments and stuff, beside an organ of my own."

I shall quote another piece of mortuary evidence, from the will of John Baude, of Woolpett, dated 1501:

"I wyll that the tenement namyd the Cok wt all the ptynaunce thereto belonging, be solde by the hande of my executors, and the mony thereof comying, the fyrst pt I will it be gwovyn to synge for me and all my benefactors by the term of a holl yer, and the ijde pt of the mony, as fast as yt may be receyuyd, I will ther be brought one peyre of orgynys to the Church of Wulpett."