THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 24328, 17 October 1942, Page 6

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

People have often wondered why some restaurant proprietors provide music . for their patrons. The custom is not so prevalent in New Zealand as in other countries, but it merits discussion, particularly because in this column allusion has been made to it more than once. I have facetiously advanced the opinion that a saving in the consumption of viands may be at the root of the practice, since patrons will hasten away if the music is bad, while, if good, they will listen and forget to cat—perhaps. Actually, of course, music with meals is a custom that is centuries old, as may be gathered from the existence of musicians' galleries in many ancient baronial banqueting halls. In days gone by music at dinner was a token of rank. There is an old record which tells us that when the Scottish lord, dames Douglas, was on bis way to the Crusades: ‘‘He remained off Slays 12 days, ‘and would not set his foot ashore, but staid the whole time on board, keeping a magnificent table, with music ol trumpets and drums, as if be had been King of Scotland.”

The treatment accorded to meal-time musicians varied in different countries. In France the players generally seem to have had a good lime, including a copious dinner, but, according to the chronicles of Froissart, they were most honoured in Ireland. He tells us that King Richard of England had received the submission of four of the most potent Irish kings, and had given _ them “ a very handsome house in the city ot Dublin in order that they should adopt the manners, appearance, and dress of the English, for he wished to create them knights. As Froissart could speak their language, ho " was ordered to reside with them, and never to leave the house without absolute necessity.” For some .days the aristocratic Froissart put up with their ways, then he exasperatedly interfered. ” I observed that, as they sat at table, they made grimaces, and I resolved in my own mind to drop that habit. These kings actually made their minstrels sit beside them, cat from their plates, and drink from their cups. They said this was a praiseworthy custom in Ireland, where everything was in common but their bed. 1 permitted this at first, but on the third day I placed the kings at one table and the minstrels _at another below, where they naturally belonged.”

Just what the minstrels thought about this arrangement is not stated; quite possibly they preferred being removed from the royal propinquity, so that they could put away more “tucker,” and even eat peas with their knives if they so desired. But, according to Froissart, the Irish kings cut up very rough at having their musicians thus segregated. “ They looked at each other and refused to eat, saying I had deprived them of the old custom in which they had been brought up. In order to appease them. I replied, with a smile, that it was neither docent not suitable to their rank that they should sit at the same table with minstrels; not so were such things done in England, and to instruct them how to conform to English manners was_ the motive ot my residence with them.” Those Irish kings were evidently made of the right democratic stuff, even though they carried the tenets of democracy to somewhat exaggerated lengths: for example. Froissart experienced equal! difficulty, he says, in persuading them to wear trousers.

There is a record of at least one aristocrat who apparently was in the habit of generously rewarding his musicians—namely, Count Gascon Phosbus de Foix, described as “ handsome, learned, pious, munificent, and affable; he had much pleasure in listening to music, being himself proficient in the science.” At one of his feasts, we learn, “ there were many minstrels in the hall, those belonging to the count and those o( his guests.” Evidently the important people, the real “ nobs,” took musicians around with them as part of their retinue. “On this occasion the count gave his minstrels •five hundred francs among them, being well pleased with their music; he also clothed the minstrels of the Duke of Touraine with cloth of gold, trimmed with ermine; these dresses were valued at two hundred francs.”

How -wretchedly this munificence contrasts with the behaviour of that Austrian Empress who, centuries later, presented the child, Mozart, with a set of second-hand clothes that had been worn by one of her page boys.

In Britain present-day music lovers have got quite accustomed to concerts being interrupted by air raids, but in this matter history repeats itself in a sense, as there is a story of a concert given some 700 years ago which was also interfered with by enemy action, and is not without a touch ot humour. It seems that the Scots had invaded Northumberland, and that, in consequence, the Bishop of Durham, who was as much military chieftain as prelate, resolved to attack the hereditary foe from over the Border. “As soon as the barons and knights of Scotland heard of the bishop’s approach' they held a council, then ordered their minstrels to play merrily. On approaching the enemy the bishop and his men heard the noise, and were so much frightened that they decided to retreat. Thereupon the music ceased for a while, and the bishop’s men, taking fresh heart, turned again to advance. But, as they came near the Scottish ■ camp, once more the minstrels began to play, even louder than before, and this time with better result, for the bishop and his soldiers, stricken with panic, farily ran away and were soon out of sight.”

Unfortunately the chronicle does not state what instruments were played by these valiant minstrels, but we may draw our own conclusions, though, of course, these may be erroneous. Scotsmen who resent imputations upon their national music may advance the argument that bagpipes were unknown in Scotland before the 16th century, and 1 have an idea that they would be right. Nevertheless, in theory it seems feasible that a regiment of pipers might intimidate an enemy if skilfully deployed and manceuvred, but out of respect for local susceptibilities I do not wish to press the point. 1 • • • •

Froissart also relates an incident which goes to show that what we term fifth-column activity was not unknown even in those faroff days, and in which musicians again played a part) “ Intelligence was carried to the Earl of Northumberland of the great feast that was to, be held at Aberdeen, and in order lo discover what was being done at it Hie carl decided to send thither several minstrels. These duly made the journey disguised and in secret, and on the way they came to fhe church at Yctholni, where the Scottish barons were assembled. The minstrels entered the church unobserved and mingled with the people gathered therein, to whom they made friendly overtures and thus heard many of the enemy’s plans. Later they produced their instrument's, and their music was much admired, whereafter they begged leave to be on their way and soon returned, bringing tidings to the earl of what they had learned. By this means were the dispositions of the Scots brought to nought and their intentions frustrated.” It would appear from the above that the music which was “ much admired ” was not that of the pipes—or was it?