The Parish Clerk | Page 4

the only part of the service during which no one could sleep, said
one of them with pride--and he was right. No one could sleep through
the terrible din. They were the most important officials in the church,
for did not the Psalms make it clear, "The singers go before, and the
minstrels" (which they understood to mean ministers) "follow after"?
And then--those anthems! They were terrible inflictions. Every
bumpkin had his favourite solo, and oh! the murder, the profanation!
"Some put their trust in charrots and some in 'orses," but they didn't
"quite pat off the stephany," as one of the singers remarked, meaning
symphony. It was all very strange and curious.
Then followed the era of barrel-organs, the clerk's duty being to turn
the handle and start the singing. He was the only person who
understood its mechanism and how to change the barrels. Sometimes
accidents happened, as at Aston Church, Yorkshire, some time in the
thirties. One Sunday morning during the singing of a hymn the music

came to a sudden stop. There was a solemn pause, and then the clerk
was seen to make his way to the front of the singing gallery, and was
heard addressing the vicar in a loud tone, saying, "Please, sor, an-ell 'as
coom off." The handle had come off the instrument. At another church,
in Huntingdonshire, the organ was hidden from view by drawn curtains,
behind which the clerk used to retire when he had given out the Psalm.
On one occasion, however, no sound of music issued from behind the
curtains; at last, after a solemn pause, the clerk's quizzical face
appeared, and his harsh voice shouted out, "Dang it, she 'on't speak!"
The "grinstun organ," as David Diggs, the hero of Hewett's Parish
Clerk calls it, was not always to be depended on. Every one knows the
Lancashire dialect story of the "Barrel Organ" which refused to stop,
and had to be carried out of church and sat upon, and yet still continued
to pour forth its dirge-like melody.
David Diggs may not have been a strictly historical character, but the
sketch of him was doubtless founded upon fact, and the account of the
introduction of the barrel-organ into the church of "Seatown" on the
coast of Sussex is evidently drawn from life. A vestry meeting was held
to consider about having a quire in church, and buying a barrel-organ
with half a dozen simple Psalm tunes upon it, which Davy was to turn
while the parson put his gown on, and the children taught to sing to.
The clerk was ordered to write to the squire and ask him for a liberal
subscription. This was his letter:
"Mr Squir, sur,
"Me & Farmer Field & the rest of the genelmen In vestri sembled
Thinks the parson want parish Relif in shape of A Grindstun orgin
betwin Survisses--i am to grind him & the sundy skool kildren is to
sing to him wile he Gos out of is sete.
"We liv It to yuresef wart to giv as we dont wont to limit yur
malevolens
"Your obedunt servunt
"DAVY DIGGS."

Of course this worthy scribe taught the children in the school, though
writing was happily considered a superfluous accomplishment. He
taught little beyond the Church Catechism and the Psalms, which he
knew from frequent repetition, though he often wanted to imbue the
infant minds entrusted to his charge with the Christening, Marriage,
and Burial Services, and the Churching of Women, because he "know'd
um by heart himself."
The barrel-organ was scarcely a great improvement upon the "cornet,
flute, sackbut, psaltery"--I mean the violins, 'cellos, clarionets, and
bassoons which it supplanted. The music of the village musicians in the
west gallery was certainly not of the highest order. The instruments
were often out of tune, and the fiddle-player and the flutist were often
at logger-heads; but it was a sad pity when their labours were brought
to an end, and the mechanical organ took their place. The very fact that
all these players took a keen interest in the conduct of Divine service
was in itself an advantage.
The barrel-organ killed the old musical life of the village. England was
once the most musical nation in Europe. Puritanism tried to kill music.
Organs were broken everywhere in the cathedrals and colleges, choirs
dispersed and musical publications ceased. The professional players on
violins, lutes, and flutes who had performed in the theatres or at Court
wandered away into the villages, taught the rustics how to play on their
beloved instruments in the taverns and ale-houses, and bequeathed their
fiddles and clarionets to their rustic friends. Thus the rural orchestra
had its birth, and right heartily did they perform not only in church, but
at village feasts and harvest homes, wakes and weddings.