Henry Russell (1814-1900)
started out as a minor songwriter and
pianist with good musical training.
Although he boasted that he had been
a pupil of Rossini, Bellini and Meyerbeer
it was noticed that his songs robbed
a singer of the fireworks, trills, quivers
and shakes that training by these masters
might have encouraged. Experience as
a chorus master of the Kings Theatre,
London, would later stand him in good
stead. With flamboyant personality he
set out to put together a one-man show
of singing and telling amusing anecdotes.
His stamina must have been considerable
to play and sing for over two hours
each performance. His regular appearances
not only advertised his published songs,
but also got his name widely known.
Little has been written
about Russell until now. He left an
autobiography of sorts, but its content
suffers from inaccurate dates, order
of events and exaggerated claims. Either
his memory had been failing or he deliberately
set out to deceive his readers. Perhaps
his only excuse in this is for us to
remember that he was a member of the
theatrical profession!
Andrew Lamb’s writing
gives us a clear and thorough account
of the development of Russell’s career
both in London and other British cities,
as well as his adventures in Italy,
America and Canada. One of the joys
of this book is to find out about the
interaction between Russell and his
musical contemporaries including composers
Charles Horn, Michael Balfe, Edward
Loder, and singers such as Henry Phillips,
Priscilla Horton (later Mrs German Reed
of the Gallery of Illustration) and
Louisa Pyne, (who later formed her own
opera company with Harrison). These
and other theatre names of the period
crop up with regularity: the information
presented allows us to view them from
a different angle to that previously
known. A keen traveller, at one point
he found himself in Italy, and formed
a duo of roaming singers with Michael
Balfe. Their concerts provided recompense
enough to allow both of them to live
well and even save. The role of Russell’s
publishers and their methods of working
give insight to the vagaries of marketing
in those days. We are shown the resulting
insecurity that the composer of a popular
song is left with in days before copyright.
Russell’s publishers were not altogether
fair with him in their gain from the
additional promotion of published songs
brought by his concerts, but Russell
cleverly encouraged pianoforte manufacturers
like Kirkham to supply their best pianos
for his performances.
Henry Russell was fortunate
in acquiring good lyricists such as
Charles Mackay who would tell a good
story within the lyrics, and supported
him over a number of years. Eliza Cook
of America, likewise, supplied good
lyrics that immortalised certain Russell
songs written when he toured over there.
He was fortunate in having other useful
lyricists who would write in with good
lyrics. Consequently, we have a small-time
composer with material that could provide
the basis for good songs; unlike certain
more accomplished composers who were
fed dross by the likes of Alfred Bunn
or Henry Chorley. Russell’s success
we learn is partly due to the inclusion
of vivid descriptive elements within
a song that could be amplified by an
appropriate musical setting to give
the audience an extra dimension of realism.
Another element of Russell’s marketing
success was that he would immerse himself
fully in the community and township
where he was staying. This happened
more so in America where his tours were
lucrative. His generosity extended to
staging charity and benefit performances
or dedicating songs to local dignitaries
rather than London-based friends, or
even christening a son/daughter after
a theatre friend who had extended hospitality.
Born a Jew, he unusually found himself
organist and choirmaster with the Presbyterian
Church and a teacher at the Academy
of Sacred Music when in Rochester, New
York.
An interesting period
occurred during Russell’s American tour
when his reputation was clouded by a
storm of harsh criticism. A knowledgeable
musician wrote in the press that the
Russell songs he heard contained music
of different composers, and in one song
was lifted note by note from a work
by Rodolphe; yet Russell never gave
these composers credit. The critic accused
him of plagiarism and challenged Russell
to either admit or disprove. The heated
exchanges that followed, along with
further accusations and court cases,
make interesting reading. Later on,
he is shadowed and mimicked by a Henry
Smith who used his songs and stories
without permission or acknowledgement.
Since Smith followed Russell from America
to London it is perhaps likely that
he sparked off the original accusation
of plagiarism.
His most popular numbers
were ‘A Life on the Ocean Wave’, the
sentimental ‘Woodman, spare that Tree’,
and graphic songs like ‘The Maniac’
and ‘The Drunkard’ with their moralising
themes. With the latter, Russell found
himself applauded by the Temperance
Society. His favourite London venue
for concerts was the elegant and fashionable
Hanover Rooms, where leaders of society
enjoyed being seen. Here he introduced
some of the American Negro Spiritual
and Plantation songs composed on his
recent travels. This was to bring about
the introduction to England of the Ethiopian
Singers from America, who were white
singers blacked up with fuzzy wigs.
In turn, this development would lead
to the Christy Minstrels and others
using banjo-led rhythms that were popularised
in the 1870s.
His legacy of more
than 350 songs and a few short oratorios
has been largely forgotten. They are
not pieces that are regularly found
cropping up in second-hand bookshops,
but nevertheless whether an original
composer or not he believed strongly
in his skills and expended enormous
amounts of energy in providing good
entertainment. Interestingly, a son
by Russell’s mistress, Hannah Ronald,
grew up to be knighted for his services
to music. That was Landon Ronald, a
close friend of Elgar who had had his
first composition published at the age
of eight and had once been associated
with the Queen’s Hall as a principal
conductor.
In this excellent volume,
Andrew Lamb has amassed an extensive
collection of newspaper reports and
reviews to piece together a correct
account of the progressive activities
of this entrepreneur. Lamb has been
careful to justify errors in Russell’s
autobiography by cross-referencing with
multiple sources. It was discovered
that information gleaned from censuses
proved to contain errors and this only
served to complicate matters.
Raymond J Walker
