I love stories. I suppose that’s why I’ve become rather obsessed with dates in the last year–historical dates, that is (no, actual dating has nothing to do with this). Writing novels set in the 1800s keeps me ever on the lookout for a new fact that could change my characters lives, or at least add a little depth to them. So, I flip open book covers to see what year they were published in, I look up names to see when they first came into popular use, and I search to see what songs were popular when. You never know where you will find new inspiration for a story.
Lately, it’s the dates on hymns that have caught my attention the most. I keep a list of ones written before the 1880s on my desk, not because I’m intending to throw all of them into my books (not just one, anyway) but more as a source to draw from if I need one while I’m caught up in the middle of scene and don’t want to have to stop. A lot of them are still hymns we sing today, which just goes to show how well they capture the truth of God’s word and resonate it within our hearts.
Now that we’re officially into the Christmas season, my mind is still noticing dates, especially since some of the best and most timeless Christmas songs are so old. I started doing a search just to get a quick look into the history on some of the music we sing, and I stumbled across some fascinating stories that I just had to share.
Silent Night
Stille Nacht was this song’s original name because–it was written in German. The tune was translated into English in the mid-1800s, giving it enough time to grow in popularity that on Christmas Day during World War I, both the Germans and the Americans in their opposite trenches knew the song. For just a short time, gunfire ceased, and in the midst of despair and death, both sides united in singing the familiar hymn.
Hark the Harald Angels Sing
Originally, Charles Wesley intended for this song to be sung to the same tune as another popular song we still sing at Easter, “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” In his mind, both Jesus’ birth and death were so intricately linked to each other that one could not be separated from the other, and to make that point, he insisted that the same tune must be used for both songs.
Mendelssohn, who composed the music for what we now sing the words to, was sure his piece would be a success, but, in his words, “it will never do [for] sacred words.” He refused to even hear of his music being played in a church.
In the end, neither man got his wish, and the lyrics and music were bound together.
What Child is This?
This one is my favorite.
William Chatterton Dix was twenty-nine and the manager of a large insurance company when he became so ill that his whole life hung in the balance. Bedridden and depressed, he rethought all he had once believed, and finally determined to give his life to Christ. He became an avid Bible reader, and he began to craft hymns, including the lyrics of “What Child is This.” His effort in penning the words was to make others feel the awe and wonder of how God made himself man when He came to earth to rescue man from his sin.
With Thanksgiving now over, some people in my family have unleashed their barely constrained “Christmas energy,” and so, the tree and stockings are up and Christmas music fills the house. Now those same people are cheering for snow to come–and lot’s of it. And no, I am not one of the guilty party. I like winter because I always tend to get more writing done, but when it comes to snow, a little is nice, but not too much.
And I know. Recently I told some of you to keep me accountable in sharing the timeline for when the next book is supposed to be finished, but I’m running out of time, so next time.
P.S. Thank you for your amazing designing, Kailey. I don’t know how you do it.