In 1822, shortly after he became king, George IV made an important trip to Scotland, in order to gain support from that part of the kingdom and quell radical opposition. No British monarch had visited Scotland since 1650, and this event proved to be a great success. The famous Scottish author, Sir Walter Scott, took the opportunity to orchestrate the reception of the king, with the main motive of reviving ancient Scottish identity. The elaborate pagentry included the use of clan tartans and the wearing of the kilt, which had gradually disappeared over the years. Since that time, kilt-wearing has become a fixed feature in Scottish culture. George appeared in Scottish garb and the press reported that the king was "a portly handsome man looking and moving every inch a King". The caricature artists depicted him as less than regal. When some complained that George wore his kilts too short, Lady Hamilton-Dalrymple wittily responded "Since he is to be among us for so short a time, the more we see of him the better." In case anyone is wondering what George wore under his kilt, it was a pair of flesh-colored tight pantaloons.
The Scottish visit was a smashing success, mainly on the part of Scotland, which received a much needed boost in national pride. The Act of Union in 1707, in which the United Kingdom appropriated a bankrupted Scotland in exchange for paying its debts, had left many Scots bitter. The wearing of clan tartans and Scottish regalia had been banned from 1746-1782, because it signified Jacobite support. Robert Burns' 1791 poem Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation, exemplified the general feeling still burning in the Scottish heart. It's one of my favorites set to music by my beloved Steeleye Span.
It reflects the times that an Ackermann fashion print of the time includes a little boy sporting the same costume worn by the king.
My mother believed that every child should have two years of music lessons, no matter how tone-deaf, arythmical, or fumble-fingered they were. If such was found to be the case, at least the child would be able to read music and be able to recognize popular tunes of the great masters. Of course, my mother was trained in opera-singing at Juilliard School of Music, so she never once thought her own children would be among that group. None of us inherited her depth of giftedness, but the four of us are all musical in our own ways. How many children were woken up in the morning to "The sun is a-shining to welcome the day: Heigh-ho! Come to the fair"? One song I taught my children when they were little tots was Purcell's "Nymphs and Shepherds", a great hit of the year 1692. My youngest, Laura, was convinced that "Flora's holiday" was actually "Laura's holiday" and would call out, "Let's sing my holiday!".
It was so fun when the two girls began singing lessons in school, using the old standby, Schirmer's Twenty-Four Italian Songs and Arias of the 17th and 18th Centuries. What beautiful songs! My first recital song was 'Già il sole dal Gange' by Scarlatti, a common early singing-lesson number. I combed YouTube for a performance that actually sounded like me. Although the sound is poor on my link, this one was a good match.
There's not a generation of young people who haven't heard their parents complain about "modern music" and reminisce fondly of the music of their day, which their own parents complained about. My grandmother was said to shake her head over my uncle who was a jazz musician in the bebop style. But then, she'd laugh about her father griping, "What's all this "everybody's doin' it, doin' the Turkey Trot"? It was the big hit of 1912!
Being able to play an instrument or sing was far more important in the past than it is today, as there were no mechanical entertainment devices. Evenings were far more pleasant with a musical instrument in the home, and every party depended on a group of musicians to provide dance tunes. In the 1800's "parlour music" was a popular trend. It was music for light entertainment in intimate gatherings, as the name implies, often wistful romantic songs, or jolly, humorous numbers. Thomas Moore, an Irish poet,songwriter, and author, had a great following and is today considered to Ireland what Robert Burns is to Scotland. His songs The Minstrel Boy, The Last Rose of Summer, Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms, and Oft In the Stilly Night, are still well-known.
I have to add Robert Burns' words to the lovely song My Luve's Like A Red, Red Rose, here sung by Kenneth McKellar. I remember my mother listening to this on the radio, with tears flowing down her cheeks, saying, 'Oh, it's a wonderful thing to be Scottish!'.
