Nicholas Temperley has pioneered the history of popular church music in England, as expounded in his classic 1979 study, The Music of the English Parish Church; his Hymn Tune Index of 1998; and his magisterial articles in The New Grove. This volume brings together fourteen shorter essays from various journals and symposia, both British and American, that are often hard to find and may be less familiar to many scholars and students in the field. Here we have studies of how singing in church strayed from artistic control during its neglect in the 16th and 17th centuries, how the vernacular 'fuging tune' of West Gallery choirs grew up, and how individuals like Playford, Croft, Madan, and Stainer set about raising artistic standards. There are also assessments of the part played by charity in the improvement of church music, the effect of the English organ and the reasons why it never inspired anything resembling the German organ chorale, and the origins of congregational psalm chanting in late Georgian York. Whatever the topic, Temperley takes a fresh approach based on careful research, while refusing to adopt artistic or religious preconceptions.

She ascended the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland in 1702, at age thirty-seven, Britain’s last Stuart monarch, and five years later united two of her realms, England and Scotland, as a sovereign state, creating the Kingdom of Great Britain. She had a history of personal misfortune, overcoming ill health (she suffered from crippling arthritis; by the time she became Queen she was a virtual invalid) and living through seventeen miscarriages, stillbirths, and premature births in seventeen years. By the end of her comparatively short twelve-year reign, Britain had emerged as a great power; the succession of outstanding victories won by her general, John Churchill, the Duke of Marlborough, had humbled France and laid the foundations for Britain’s future naval and colonial supremacy. While the Queen’s military was performing dazzling exploits on the continent, her own attention—indeed her realm—rested on a more intimate conflict: the female friendship on which her happiness had for decades depended and which became for her a source of utter torment. At the core of Anne Somerset’s riveting new biography, published to great acclaim in England (“Definitive”—London Evening Standard; “Wonderfully pacy and absorbing”—Daily Mail), is a portrait of this deeply emotional, complex bond between two very different women: Queen Anne—reserved, stolid, shrewd; and Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, wife of the Queen’s great general—beautiful, willful, outspoken, whose acerbic wit was equally matched by her fearsome temper. Against a fraught background—the revolution that deposed Anne’s father, James II, and brought her to power . . . religious differences (she was born Protestant—her parents’ conversion to Catholicism had grave implications—and she grew up so suspicious of the Roman church that she considered its doctrines “wicked and dangerous”) . . . violently partisan politics (Whigs versus Tories) . . . a war with France that lasted for almost her entire reign . . . the constant threat of foreign invasion and civil war—the much-admired historian, author of Elizabeth I (“Exhilarating”—The Spectator; “Ample, stylish, eloquent”—The Washington Post Book World), tells the extraordinary story of how Sarah goaded and provoked the Queen beyond endurance, and, after the withdrawal of Anne’s favor, how her replacement, Sarah’s cousin, the feline Abigail Masham, became the ubiquitous royal confidante and, so Sarah whispered to growing scandal, the object of the Queen's sexual infatuation. To write this remarkably rich and passionate biography, Somerset, winner of the Elizabeth Longford Prize for Historical Biography, has made use of royal archives, parliamentary records, personal correspondence and previously unpublished material. Queen Anne is history on a large scale—a revelation of a centuries-overlooked monarch.

A new series of the Scottish antiquary established 1886.

The Glorious Revolution of 1688, which pushed James II from the throne of England, was not glorious for everyone; in fact, for many, it was a great disaster. Those who had already taken an oath of allegiance to James II and “to his heirs and lawful successors” now pondered how they could take a second oath to William and Mary. Those who initially refused to swear the oaths were called Nonjurors. In 1691, Archbishop Sancroft, eight bishops, and four hundred clergy of the Church of England, as well as a substantial number of scholars at Oxford and Cambridge, were deprived, removed from their offices and their license to practice removed. The loss of this talent to the realm was incalcuable. Ten different paradigms shaped the English Nonjurors’ worldview: Passive Obedience was paramount, the Apostolic Succession essential, a Cyprianist mentality colored everything, they held a conscientious regard for oaths, the Usages Controversy brought Tradition to the fore, printing presses replaced lost pulpits, patronage was a means of protection and proliferation, they lived with a hybridized conception of time, creative women spiritual writers complemented male bishops, and a global ecumenical approach to the Orthodox East was visionary. These ten operated synergistically to create an effective tool for the Nonjurors’ survival and success in their mission. The Nonjurors’ influence, out of all proportion to their size, was due in large measure to this mentality. Their unique circumstances prompted creative thinking, and they were superb in that endeavor. These perspectives constituted the infrastructure of the Nonjurors’ world, and they help us to see the early eighteenth century not only as a time of rapid change, but also as an era of persistent older religious mentalities adapted to new circumstances.

Companion volume (v. 2) contains examples of the music, sources and critical notes.