Stories Behind the Music: “O Holy Night”
“O Holy Night” remains one of the world’s most beloved Christmas carols, with uplifting lyrics and melody. The lyrics were written by Placide Cappeau (1808-1877), a resident of Roquemaure, France (located a few miles north of the historic city of Avignon). Cappeau was a wine merchant and mayor of the town, as well as an occasional writer of poetry. Known more for his poetry than his church attendance, it probably shocked Cappeau when his parish priest, shortly before Cappeau embarked on a business trip, asked him to pen a poem for Christmas mass. In a dusty coach traveling down a bumpy road to France’s capital city, Cappeau considered the priest’s request. Using the gospel of Luke as his guide, Cappeau imagined witnessing the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. Thoughts of being present on the blessed night inspired him. By the time he arrived in Paris, “Cantique de Noel” had been completed.
Moved by his own work, Cappeau decided that his “Cantique de Noel” was not just a poem, but a song in need of a master musician’s hand. Not musically inclined himself, the poet turned to one of his friends, Adolphe Charles Adams, for help, when he arrived in Paris. Adams was an acquaintance of Monsieur and Madame Laurey, who were friends of Cappeau. The son of a well-known classical musician, Adams had studied in the Paris conservatoire. Adams was at the peak of his career, having written his masterpiece, Giselle, only a few years before, in 1841. He was also the composer of over eighty operatic stage works. His talent and fame brought requests to write works for orchestras and ballets all over the world. Yet the lyrics that his friend Cappeau gave him must have challenged the composer in a fashion unlike anything he received from London, Berlin, or St. Petersburg. As a man of Jewish ancestry, for Adams, the words of “Cantique de Noel” represented a day he didn’t celebrate and a man he did not view as the son of God. Nevertheless, Adams quickly went to work, attempting to marry an original score to Cappeau’s beautiful words. Adams’ finished work pleased both poet and priest. The song was performed just three weeks later at a Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, 1847, in Roquemaure.
Initially, “Cantique de Noel” was wholeheartedly accepted by the church in France and the song quickly found its way into various Catholic Christmas services. However, the song’s popularity declined after its initial acceptance, based on the reputations of the lyricist and composer. Late in his life, Cappeau left the church and became an active part of the socialist movement. He was described as a social radical, a freethinker, a socialist, and a non-Christian. Church leaders also discovered that Adams was a Jew, and the song—which had quickly grown to be one of the most beloved Christmas songs in France—was suddenly and uniformly denounced by the Church. The heads of the French Catholic church of the time deemed “Cantique de Noel” as unfit for church services because of its lack of musical taste and “total absence of the spirit of religion.” Yet even as the church tried to bury the Christmas song, the French people continued to sing it.
Fortunately, more rational perspectives have prevailed. By 1855, the carol had been published in London, and has been translated into many languages. The best known English translation is “ O Holy Night” authored by John Sullivan Dwight (1813-1893), a Unitarian minister, an American music critic and journalist who made his home at the Transcendentalist community of Brook Farm, Massachusetts. Dwight felt that this wonderful Christmas song needed to be introduced to America, and he saw something else in the song that moved him beyond the story of the birth of Christ. An ardent abolitionist, Dwight strongly identified with the lines of the third verse: “Truly he taught us to love one another; his law is love and his gospel is peace. Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother; and in his name all oppression shall cease.” The text supported Dwight’s own view of slavery in the South. Published in his magazine, Journal of Music, Dwight’s English translation of “O Holy Night” quickly found favor in America, especially in the North during the Civil War. By coincidence, Christmas became a legal holiday in Massachusetts the same year as Dwight published his translation.
There is an unsubstantiated (but frequently repeated) story that this carol figured prominently on Christmas Eve, 1870, during the Franco-Prussian War. The story goes that, in the midst of fierce fighting between the armies of Germany and France, during the Franco-Prussian War, a French soldier suddenly jumped out of his muddy trench. Both sides stared at the seemingly crazed man. Boldly standing with no weapon in his hand or at his side, he lifted his eyes to the heavens and sang, “Minuit, Chretiens, c’est l’heure solennelle ou L’Homme Dieu descendit jusqu’a nous,” the beginning of “Cantique de Noel.” After completing all three verses, a German infantryman climbed out his hiding place and answered with, “Vom Himmel noch, da komm’ ich her. Ich bring’ euch gute neue Mar, Der guten Mar bring’ ich so viel, Davon ich sing’n und sagen will,” the beginning of Martin Luther’s robust Christmas hymn, “From Heaven Above to Earth I Come.” The story goes that the fighting stopped for the next twenty-four hours while the men on both sides observed a temporary peace in honor of Christmas day. Perhaps this story had a part in the French church once again embracing “Cantique de Noel” in holiday services.
Adams had been dead for many years and Cappeau and Dwight were old men when on Christmas Eve 1906, Reginald Fessenden, a 33-year-old university professor and former chief chemist for Thomas Edison, did something long thought impossible. Using a new type of generator, Fessenden spoke into a microphone and, for the first time in history, a man’s voice was broadcast over the airwaves: “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed,” he began in a clear, strong voice, hoping he was reaching across the distances he supposed he would. Shocked radio operators on ships and astonished wireless owners at newspapers sat slack-jawed as their normal, coded impulses, heard over tiny speakers, were interrupted by a professor reading from the gospel of Luke. To the few who caught this broadcast, it must have seemed like a miracle, hearing a voice somehow transmitted to those far away. Some might have believed they were hearing the voice of an angel. Fessenden was probably unaware of the sensation he was causing on ships and in offices; he couldn’t have known that men and women were rushing to their wireless units to catch this Christmas Eve miracle. After finishing his recitation of the birth of Christ, Fessenden picked up his violin and played “O Holy Night,” the first song ever sent through the air via radio waves. When the carol ended, Fessenden read another selection from the book of Luke: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will.” The Christmas program was picked up as far south as Norfolk, Virginia; when the program was repeated on New Year’s Eve, it was heard as far away as the West Indies.
Since that first rendition at a small Christmas mass in 1847, “O Holy Night” has been sung millions of times in churches in every corner of the world. And since the moment a handful of people first heard it played over the radio, the carol has gone on to become one of the entertainment industry’s most recorded and played spiritual songs. This incredible work—requested by a forgotten parish priest, written by a poet who would later split from the church, given soaring music by a Jewish composer, and brought to Americans to serve as much as a tool to spotlight the sinful nature of slavery as tell the story of the birth of a Savior—has become one of the most beautiful, inspired pieces of music ever created. The lyrics are reprinted below.
O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till He appeared and the soul felt His worth
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
For yonder beams a new and glorious morn
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine! O night when Christ was born!
O night divine! O night, O night divine!
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming
Here came the wise men from the Orient land
The King of Kings lay in lowly manger
In all our trials born to be our friend
He knows our need
To our weakness no stranger
Behold your King! before the lowly bend!
Behold your King! before Him bend!
Truly he taught us to love one another
His law is love and His gospel is peace
Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother
And in His name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus rise we
Let all within us praise His holy name
Christ is the Lord
Then ever, ever praise we
His pow’r and glory ever more proclaim
His pow’r and glory ever more proclaim
WOW. When I was in about the 5th grade (1951) we had a young girl join our class. Her dad was in heavy construction and she only expected to be in our school through the school year in June. Her name was Violet, IIRC.
Well, she was very, very, very attractive (can you say SMITTEN) and, as we discovered at the school Christmas play/ceremony, had a wonderful voice. She sang O’ Holy Night and when she finished there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. The whole auditorium was totally quiet, except for some sniffles, for at least 4-5 minutes.
To this day, when ever I hear that song, I get teary as I am right this very minute.
Thanks Doug.
Magnificent talent. I have several of his CDs. Thanks and Merry Christmas!
Around this time of year I can get a little blue. When the blues DO hit, I pull this out and reread it until I again remember what this season is REALLY all about.
May it also carry you back to those special people and times now gone and what THEY meant to YOU.
Merry Christmas — and God bless us every one!
***************
In a few days, much of the Christian world celebrates Christmas. Please forgive me if this sounds somewhat self-indulgent but, though the specific details will certainly vary, I think it’s more than possible that many of you will identify with this.
For about a month now, I, like a lot of you, have found myself growing increasingly melancholy as I drift back to wonderful memories of Christmases past and loved ones now long gone.
I was blessed with good parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I never knew my mother’s father. He died when I was still a baby. And, though I loved them and they loved us, my Dad’s folks lived 110 miles away. And Having raised 5 of their own, perhaps there wasn’t a great deal of them left for all those grandkids.
I smell the pungent pine aroma of a Christmas tree and suddenly I’m back in the modest living room in the little house on Hall Avenue in Lakewood, Ohio. Mom, Dad and my brother Karl, sister Jeanine and two cats and two dogs anxiously await the arrival of Grandma Grace and Aunt Helen, my mother’s Mom and sister and, for a lot of reasons, next to Mom and Dad, our favorite people in the whole world.
They were not rich in any material sense, but they worked hard and on Christmas Eve made the long and, in Cleveland at that time of year, frequently treacherous trip along the southern shore of Lake Erie to the West Side. They were in show business and because they spent many hours on the road, Helen always drove the biggest car they could afford. It was usually a behemoth of a 4 door Oldsmobile.
Around 6:30 or 7 pm, we 3 kids would gravitate to the stairs facing the large full windowed front door and sit like fans in the bleachers at a ballgame. Every few minutes one of us would turn to Mom or Dad to ask: “When will they be here?” or “What time is it?” The sound of the crisp new snow crunching under the tires of each approaching car would bring us to our feet. Leaping to the door, we’d press our noses to the frigid panes, hoping to be the first to spot the Olds sliding to a stop in the unique cold and gloom for which Cleveland winters are justifiably infamous.
Then the long awaited cry goes up. “THEY’RE HERE — THEY’RE HERE!! We’ve had our coats on for 20 minutes and we fly down the porch stairs, slip and slide down the walk and there it is: A BACK SEAT CONTAINING 3 HUGE WICKER LAUNDRY BASKETS PILED TO THE CEILING WITH BRIGHTLY WRAPPED GIFTS! Hugs and kisses all around, a great deal of squealing and Dad and Mom and Grandma and Helen and kids struggle under the load and somehow manage to get it all into the house where it joins the sizable quantity of goodies already under the tree.
The addition of the contents of the back seat of Helen’s car creates a traffic problem as the new arrivals spill out from under the tree into the archway between the living and dining rooms.
Now it’s true that Christmas is about much, much more than abundance and gifts. But when the abundance and gifts are surpassed by the love that flowed between three kids and these two totally unselfish and wonderful women, it transcends the material and becomes something special. And it has helped me to understand the love God must have for us to have sent His only begotten Son to take away the sins of those of us who believe in Christ Jesus.
These two women were, as are we all, here for just a brief time and they and our folks now repose in Lakewood Park Cemetery. But even today, 40+ years later, I can still hear the merry tinkle of Helen’s laughter as we opened our gifts. I can still hear my Grandmother warning me, with great gravity, that all that candy would make me sick. Of course, she was right! And as long as I live, they — and my Dad and Mom and all the others who have gone on — will live also.
And it is those incredibly warm memories of departed loved ones and a much simpler life that brings the melancholy this time of year — that brings a tear when I hear one of the old carols. “O Holy Night” gets me every time. I have many favorite carols, but none so beautifully – and correctly — summarizes the true meaning of Christmas.
What wonderful words:
“Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
till He appeared and the soul felt His worth.”
A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks the new and glorious morn,
Fall on your knees,
Oh, hear the angel voices!
Oh, night divine,
Oh, night when Christ was born!”
It’s all there, isn’t it? The sin of this fallen world! The salvation from that sin Christ offers all! The need for us to surrender to Him and His Grace for that salvation! Yeah, it’s all there!!
And it is that knowledge which finally brings me out of my seasonal melancholy. That and my understanding that I now must be to MY grandchildren the positive and loving influence that my Grandmother and my Aunt Helen were to us. I’m certain that they, too, suffered the same melancholy and feelings of loss over those who had preceded them. After my Mother died, we found her early diaries. In one of them, she wrote that Helen fainted at their Dad’s graveside. But except for an occasional inexplicable and swiftly brushed away tear or a little crack in their voices as they spoke about their early years — often during the playing and singing of the old carols — it seldom visibly surfaced. They felt an obligation to keep this most joyous of seasons just that, joyous!
And so must we all who call ourselves Christians.
Oh, I’m not saying that we must never allow ourselves to shed tears for OUR departed loved ones. To do otherwise would be a futile and unhealthy effort to deny the very humanity with which God imbued us all.
But after we shed those tears, we must yield to our spiritual side and offer our praise and thanks — and joy — to Him for sending Jesus.
We must finally remember that our joy at this time of year flows from the fact that “God so loved the world, that He sent His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.”
You see, my temporary melancholy succumbs to the certain long-term knowledge that I’ll see my dear Grandmother, my beloved Aunt Helen, my Dad and Mom and the others again some day.
In the meantime — Happy Birthday Jesus.
And a Merry Christmas to all of you.
Il Divo - Oh Holy Night
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFirYXLoP5Q
And a tribute to the great Pavarotti - Nessun Dorma - No one will ever sing this better. God speed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RdTBml4oOZ8
OK, dfu...help me out.
Is Groban’s version of “O Holy Night” one with a very nice chorus
by children?
All I know is that I heard a great rendition of the song maybe in
2005 over radio in Los Angeles, but never got a cite on who the artist/s
performing the song were.
Thanks in advance.
O Holy Night, my absolute favorite.
i thought it was josh singing on the front page of FR with the film of christs birth.
Listen to the one on the front page http://www.freerepublic.com/home.htm watch the video.... It is awesome!
Awesome.
I agree — my favorite Christmas hymn.
Thank You Very Much
I like Cartman’s version, as well.
He is pretty good.
BUMP!
As much as I like Johs Groban, I don’t think anyone has a purer singing voice than Andy Williams. Here is his version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3099bjEWJg4
Sorry, but you can’t compare it to O HOLY NIGHT sang by SELAH. SELAH’S version will beat Josh’s anytime. IT IS BY FAR the best song ever sang by any artist!!
Josh Groban’s voice still lacks maturity to me. It is improving, he is an undoubted talent and seemingly a nice guy too, but he doesn’t have the fullness and tonal quality of, say, Andrea Bocelli.
In ten years he will be great.