The Chorus in the News
The newspapers from one and a half centuries ago can be read at Leeds Central Library, where they are all stored on strips of film, which must be wound into a booth-like machine. The pages can then be read – with some difficulty. I would guess that the average reader in the days of top hats and crinolines would have ended up with eyestrain too: it seems to us in 2008 that the pages were appallingly crowded, with a desperate lack of illustrations and photos, but in 1858 newspapers were thriving, and an increasing number of people could actually read them even in the years before the introduction of compulsory education.
As today, there was enormous press (and popular) interest in royalty and criminals. Queen Victoria’s every move was documented when she stopped off in Leeds to open the Town Hall on her way to Balmoral, and the - alleged - final repentant words of convicted murderers were recorded in their death cells at great length just before they faced the drop, as were details of their last meals in some cases. Advertisements for quack medicines abounded and there were minor headlines like ‘Drunken Irishman arrested’. As today, the press pandered to popular prejudices and the Leeds Intelligencer - a forerunner of the Yorkshire Post - was imbued with a very recognisable Yorkshire chauvinism. So what do those shifty southern Jessies know about choral singing, eh?
Unlike today, when about 250 words is the measly norm, it was normal for concerts to be commented upon at great length. Here’s what I mean:
(Leeds Intelligencer, Saturday September 11 1858)
Elijah (extract from notice)
Professor Bennett – himself a Yorkshireman, having been born in Sheffield – was honoured with a genuine Yorkshire welcome on appearing in the orchestra, and a burst of the heartiest applause proclaimed the satisfaction of the audience at the end of each section of the oratorio, which was happily allowed to proceed without any interruptions in the shape of those unseemly “encores” that protract the duration without in any way increasing the enjoyment of the performance. The principal singers were Madame Novello, Madame Weiss, Miss Palmer, Mr. Sims Reeves, Mr. Santley and Mr. Weiss; the duet, “Zion spreadeth her hands for aid,” being allotted to Misses Helena Walker and Crosland, while Miss Freeman, Messrs. Inkerwell, Winn, and Hinchcliffe took part in the double quartet, “For He shall give his angels charge.” Mr W. Spark presided at the organ. With this general notice we must now desist, promising that there still remains much to say of the performance which has thus brilliantly inaugurated the maiden festival of Leeds.
Nothing can be more auspicious than the weather; and, although Her Majesty the Queen has departed, the excitement is by no means allayed. All the streets contiguous to the Town Hall were crowded from an early hour this morning; and the festival proceedings excite universal curiosity and interest.
You can download a transcription of the climactic notice of the performance of The Messiah here.
Previous page: The first festival
Next page: The man with Handel on his grave
