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UNCOVERING THE DOUAI FRAGMENT: COMPOSING POLYPHONY AND ENCODING A COMPOSER IN THE LATE FOURTEENTH CENTURY

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  23 February 2022

Manon Louviot*
Affiliation:
University of Oslo
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Abstract

Douai, Bibliothèque Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, MS 1105/3 fragment 74.4/1 is a musical fragment from the second half of the fourteenth century, composed of two bifolios copied in black mensural notation. It not only contains a concordance for Multipliciter amando, a motet that, until now, has only survived in the famous Chantilly manuscript, but also four unica (another complete motet, two incomplete ones and a three-voice Gloria). After presenting a codicological overview of the fragment, I analyse distinctive features of each of the three complete pieces, based on the first modern transcription of the source. Special attention is given to the motet Ferre solet, which, by way of literary encoding mechanisms, reveals its composer’s name (Frater Johannes Vavassoris) and its precise date of composition (1373), making these four folios a crucial witness for understanding fourteenth-century musical culture.

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Research Article
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Douai, Bibliothèque Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, MS 1105/3 fragment 74.4/1 (hereafter the ‘Douai fragment’) is composed of two parchment bifolios and contains five polyphonic pieces copied in black full mensural notation.Footnote 1 Among these pieces, four are unica: two voice parts that are most likely the motetus (O martir beatissime, fol. 1r) and the triplum (Salus honor, fol. 4v) of two incomplete motets; a three-voice Gloria (fols. 2v–3r) with a long melismatic Amen;Footnote 2 and a complete motet Ferre solet/Ana theos de gracia/Ave Maria (fols. 3v–4r). In addition, the Douai fragment contains the three-voice motet Multipliciter amando/Favore habundare/Letificat (fols. 1v–2r), which has a concordance in the Chantilly manuscript.Footnote 3 Among these pieces, Ferre solet stands out in particular because its text contains the name of a hitherto unknown composer and a date of composition. These invaluable pieces of information, hidden in the motet by way of an acrostic, transform the Douai fragment into a crucial witness for understanding fourteenth-century musical culture.

This article provides a preliminary analysis of the Douai fragment in order to reassess its significance for fourteenth-century music history. After a codicological overview of the source, I shall introduce the texts and music of the two incomplete motets. The second part of this article then focuses on the distinctive aspects of the three complete pieces. Transcriptions of all five pieces are presented in Appendix 1, and an edition and translation of the texts of the motets by Leofranc Holford-Strevens can be found in Appendix 2.

CODICOLOGICAL OVERVIEW

The fragment reproduced in Figure 1, available in colour online on DIAMM,Footnote 4 was discovered during the nineteenth century. The four folios were used in manuscript bindings, but it is not clear whether they were reused as binding materials for one or multiple books. In the middle of the nineteenth century, Edmond de Coussemaker mentions ‘two incomplete musical fragments from the fourteenth century being used as flyleaves in a manuscript from the Douai library [which] are written in black and red notation’.Footnote 5 He then describes red notes that were previously black void notes and mentions a canonic instruction dealing with the contratenor voice part.Footnote 6 It seems that Coussemaker refers to fol. 4r of the current Douai fragment, which would indicate that in 1852 at least fol. 4r was still in its host volume and was visible.Footnote 7 However, Coussemaker does not say what that host volume was. The fragment is mentioned again in the nineteenth century in a catalogue published in 1878 by Chrétien Deshaines: at that time, the four folios now constituting the Douai fragment had already been taken out of their former host manuscript(s). Here again, Deshaines does not make any reference to the host manuscript(s), explaining only briefly that they may still be preserved at the Douai library.Footnote 8 The host manuscript(s) nonetheless left traces: fols. 2 and 4 each have five sewing holes on their left-hand margins. In addition, four green-edged holes from copper nails are on the right-hand margin of fol. 2. Two similar holes are to be found on fol. 4 as well. Therefore, it seems that these two folios were reused in the same book bound on five bands and held by two clasps, though fol. 4 may have been trimmed too extensively to have been perforated by the second nail of each clasp. Furthermore fols. 1 and 3 have only four sewing holes and no apparent traces of clasps, which seems to indicate that they were bound in a different host manuscript. The result of leather offsets onto fols. 1r, 2r, 3v and 4v seems to indicate that these were the sides that were pasted down on the wooden board. More generally, however, there are no legible relevant marginalia and no signs of old library sigla that could aid in the identification of the host manuscripts(s).Footnote 9 Consequently, very little is known about the provenance of the fragment. Barbara Haggh has nonetheless suggested that it was either bought as part of a nineteenth-century collection of Douai sources or that it originates from a monastery or abbey in the Douai region, such as the Marchiennes Abbey.Footnote 10 Several clues in the source itself discussed below confirm a northern French or southern Low Countries origin.

Figure 1(a) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fol. 1r, O martir beatissime

Figure 1(b) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fols. 1v–2r, Multipliciter amando

Figure 1(c) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fols. 2v–3r, Gloria

Figure 1(d) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fols. 3v–4r, Ferre solet

Figure 1(e) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fol. 4v, Salus honor

The dimensions of each leaf are approximately 301 × 245 mm. These are not the original dimensions because the folios have been trimmed to fit the binding of the host manuscript(s). As a result, text and music are missing on the right-hand side of fols. 3r and 4r. However, rhythmic repetitions in the pieces on these folios confirm that rarely more than the length of two imperfect breves has been lost (more frequently only the length of one minim or one semibreve is missing), the implication being that the current dimensions of the written areas of the leaves may be close to their original size, though portions of the margins were doubtless lost in trimming. In addition, damage caused by rebinding (holes, cuts, brown-red marks left by leather offset) sometimes make a detailed reading of the content very difficult. However, overall, the parchment is relatively well preserved.

The folios are currently joined together with paper, which probably dates from their rediscovery in the nineteenth century.Footnote 11 The disposition of the music indicates that the folios are contiguous, despite the lack of foliation.Footnote 12 The parchment is very thin, and it is difficult to determine the hair and flesh sides. Given the fact that the binding of the folios is not original, it is currently not possible to assess with certainty whether they were separate adjacent leaves or two nested bifolios at a centre gathering.

Four ruling lines, in leadpoint, provide a frame to contain the writing block, though these have now faded at various points. Black ink, used for the text and the music, is generally very well preserved (fols. 1r, 2v, 3r, 4v), but it is seriously faded in some places (fols. 1v, 2r, 3v). Red ink was used for proportional and mensural changes in the motet Ferre solet (fols. 3v–4r). The polyphonic Gloria features notable (though very simple) penwork initials: in all three voices, the letter ‘E’ (from ‘Et in terra pax’) is decorated with a small dragon-like creature. Similar initials (at least in terms of size) were perhaps intended for Ferre solet, since the indication of the first letter of the motetus voice is given in lower case before the musical notation begins (since the left margin of fol. 3v has been cut, no possible initial for the triplum can be read). A larger penwork initial is drawn to indicate the ‘Tenor’ voice of the motet Multipliciter amando (fol. 2r). The initials of the triplum and motetus of Multipliciter amando and of the voice part on fol. 4v have minor and modestly decorated initials. Given the lack of space before the music and text of fol. 1r were copied, it is highly unlikely that an initial was intended to be added.

Each folio has four small margins (most likely larger before the trimming), leaving a writing block of 260 × 205 mm in which all pieces are laid out in choirbook format. Folios are ruled with eleven five-line staves in black ink (now pale or dark brown),Footnote 13 which are approximately 16 mm in height. The consistency in the line-spacing suggests the use of a single-stave rastrum.Footnote 14 On fol. 1v the scribe used the upper ruling as a sixth line of the stave. The tenor voice of the Gloria begins on fol. 2v but, because of a lack of space, the music scribe added a twelfth stave in free-hand on fol. 3r in order to accommodate the end of the voice (see Figure 2).

Figure 2. Layout of the Douai fragment. Diagonal lines indicate staves that were prepared but not filled with music. Names of voice parts not present in the source are bracketed. Grey areas and dashed lines mark possible reconstructions of the missing folios. Roman numerals in (c) refer to the bipartite musical division of the Gloria

In the two complete motets, the names of the lower voices are given (tenor and, where applicable, contratenor and solus tenor). None of the three voices of the Gloria are identified by name. With regard to the music on fols. 1r and 4v, Margaret Bent suggests that these voices formed part of two three-voice motets without contratenors.Footnote 15 It is interesting to note that they had different layouts: while fol. 4v adopts a similar layout to Multipliciter amando (fols. 1v–2r), the potential triplum and tenor of O martir were most likely copied one after the other on the preceding (now missing) folio (see Figure 2(a)). Such inconsistency of mise-en-page is not unique to this fragment but can also be found in several other contemporaneous manuscripts, including Chantilly.Footnote 16

Text and music were closely coordinated in the process of copying. This is especially clear at line breaks: occasional vertical guide-lines improve note–syllable alignment, as in the Gloria and the incomplete motet Salus honor. On one occasion the scribe even extended the stave in free-hand to make sure that notes would align with the corresponding syllables of the text (see fol. 1r, end of stave 5). This strongly suggests that, as usual, the text was copied before the music, as confirmed by the unnecessary blank space sometimes left after melismas (e.g. fol. 2v, stave 6).Footnote 17 One hand copied both text and music, perhaps with the exception of the red ink on fols. 3v–4r.Footnote 18 Mensuration signs are used only in Multipliciter amando (fols. 1v–2r), but three other pieces feature mensuration changes: the three-voice Gloria, the incomplete motet O martir beatissime (fol. 1r) and Ferre solet. As will be specified below, these changes in Ferre solet are indicated by coloration, while no indication is given for the changes in the Gloria and in O martir beatissime. Table 1 provides a summary of the contents.

Table 1. The contents of the Douai fragment

TWO INCOMPLETE MOTETS

O martir beatissime (fol. 1r)

The text of the voice part on fol. 1r (most likely the motetus of a three-voice motet) is in praise of St John the Baptist. It consists of three nine-line strophes followed by three five-line strophes.

The melody is divided into two rhythmic patterns repeated three times each. The first rhythmic pattern (talea A) uses perfect modus and imperfect tempus with minor prolation. The second rhythmic pattern (talea B) is in perfect tempus with minor prolation. While this change was empirically determined (it is not signalled by any mensuration sign or coloration and there is no notational confirmation, for instance by presence of perfect breves), it is possible that a verbal canon copied on the preceding, missing folio explained the mensuration to be used. In addition, the musical structure fits neatly with the poetic design, since each rhythmic pattern corresponds to a specific rhyme structure (the three neuvains fit the three A taleas and the three cinquains fit the three B taleas).Footnote 19 The change of mensuration between the A taleas and B taleas can also be understood as a 2:1 diminution, where the perfect long of A becomes the perfect breve of B and where the imperfect breve of A becomes the minor semibreve of B.Footnote 20 Similarly, the strophic structure of the poem can be considered as being in diminution, where the last three cinquains are diminutions of the three neuvains.Footnote 21 Diminution as a compositional strategy is particularly relevant in a motet dedicated to John the Baptist because it reflects the Baptist’s ‘diminishing’ quality, as encapsulated in the following declaration: ‘[Christ] must increase, I must decrease.’Footnote 22

Salus honor (fol. 4v)

This single voice is most likely the triplum of a three-voice motet. Its poem follows a consistent rhyme scheme: aabaab, bbcbbc, etc. The first letter of each three-line group spells out the name ‘Sanctus Lambertus’, that is, St Lambert of Maastricht, who comes to be praised in the poem. In the source, all the letters of the acrostic are capitalised.Footnote 23 This suggests a northern French or Belgian provenance for at least this motet, as St Lambert was (and still is) the patron saint of Liège.Footnote 24 This seems to confirm the provenance of the fragment as a whole, given its current preservation and the hypothesis made by Barbara Haggh that it comes from the Douai region.

This voice is in imperfect tempus with minor prolation and the rests covering three lines of the stave indicate perfect modus. The piece consists of an opening section, in which the rhythm of the first four longs is stated twice, leaving the last three longs rhythmically free. After that, the music is regularly divided into three taleas. One can suppose that the missing voices were built on the same rhythmic structure. The first strophe of the poem is sung during the opening section of music and the following strophes are evenly distributed between each talea (five strophes per talea).

GLORIA

The Gloria of the Douai fragment has three voices, all of which are texted. The spellings are strictly the same except on one occasion (see below, ‘ad dexteram’). Capitalisation is not always the same in all three voices, as can be seen in the following edition:

This mass setting has two striking features: a new interpolated trope and a pronounced rhythmic design. This section considers each in turn.Footnote 25

A New Trope

The Gloria is furnished with a short trope (bb. 99–104):Footnote 26

… tu solus Altissimus you alone the Most High

salus indeficiens nostra our unfailing salvation,

tu nos pietate illustra enlighten us by your mercy,

Ihesu Christe cum sancto spiritu … Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit …

According to the current state of knowledge regarding Gloria tropes, this textual interpolation is unique to this polyphonic setting.Footnote 27 Moreover, by the late fourteenth century, Gloria tropes are quite rare, with the most popular being the Marian trope Spiritus etalme.Footnote 28 The fact that the trope of the Douai Gloria is versified and rhymed is still more unusual, though not unprecedented.Footnote 29 It may be suggested that the text of this trope is evocative of the sequence for the first Sunday of Advent that opens similarly: ‘Salus aeterna, Indeficiens mundi vita’ (‘Salvation eternal, life of the world unfailing’).Footnote 30 However, since Gloria tropes were not necessarily added to create a connection with the liturgy of the day, it is not possible to place it within the annual cycle of the liturgy.Footnote 31 The composer gave some aural emphasis to the trope: cadences surround its appearance (b. 99 and b. 104) and the second verse of the trope is set to a strict homorhythmic texture, a unique feature in the polyphonic setting of the piece.

Structuring Polyphony

The three-voice Gloria is comprised of an opening section (here designated ‘introitus’) and a further two parts. The introitus (twenty breves) and the first part (237 breves) set the text of the Gloria syllabically in imperfect tempus, while the second part is characterised by a long melismatic Amen (forty-seven breves) set in perfect tempus.Footnote 32 All parts use minor prolation. The Amen section is therefore audibly separated from the previous section by a change of mensuration; notably, it also comes to be distinguished by a clear cadence point that brings the first part of the Gloria to a close. This process of separating structurally a lengthy Amen section is a common compositional process in the fourteenth century.Footnote 33 In addition, it is visually distinct because the three voices of the Amen are copied one after the other on fol. 3r and not in the usual choirbook format of the fragment (see Figure 1(c) above).Footnote 34

The Gloria from the Douai fragment opens with a passage which restates the first sentence of the text twice, setting it to two contrasting vocal duets (triplum/tenor and triplum/motetus respectively).Footnote 35 Part I and Part II in turn are divided into four subsections each, easily identifiable by cadence points and rhythmic repetitions as shown in Table 2. Table 2 also offers an overview of textually defined musical breaks in analogous Glorias.Footnote 36 It shows that the first two breaks are quite conventional (‘Laudamus te’ and ‘Domine fili unigenite’), but the last two are much rarer (‘Qui tollis … suscipe’ and ‘Tu solus altissimus’).

Table 2. Musical division of the Gloria with corresponding text openings

Furthermore, these analogous Glorias often contain several additional breaks throughout their musical setting, for example at ‘Gratias agimus’ (Glorias 39, 41, 43, 47), ‘Domine Deus Rex’ (Glorias 30, 33, 39), ‘Qui tollis … miserere’ (Glorias 30, 39, 40, 43, 47), ‘Qui sedes’ (Glorias 33, 34, 39, 40, 43, 48) and ‘Cum sancto’ (Glorias 30, 39, 43, 48). Interestingly, some of these, such as before the text ‘Domine Deus Rex’, ‘Qui tollis … miserere’ and ‘Cum sancto’, are also given aural importance in the Douai Gloria (see bb. 27, 55 and 111). Specifically, the musical settings at these points are all based on the same rhythmic pattern: hockets, preceded and followed by short melismatic passages characterised by rhythmic exchanges between the three voices (see Examples 1 and 2 below). As such, they mark out the end of each section identifed in Table 2. Additionally, Table 2 shows that the strategy of concluding this mass setting in a major mensuration is not unusual. However, it also illustrates that in spite of similarities in the musical division of the text of the Gloria, no systematic approach to dividing up the text in musical settings was applied by composers. These initial observations in turn invite broader comparison with fourteenth-century Glorias, though this lies beyond the scope of this article.

Example 1 Hockets in the Gloria (b. 28)

Example 2 Rhythmic exchanges in the Gloria (bb. 24–7)

Within the subsections of the Douai Gloria, five recurring units, or ‘ideas’, with discrete musical material can be discerned (see Examples 15).Footnote 37 These musical ideas sometimes overlap with each other: for instance, Example 3 (conjunct melodic motion) also introduces a hocket idea (Example 1). These five ideas are featured interchangeably throughout the introitus and the four subsections of Part I. By contrast, in Part II each idea is used as a means to set the subsections apart from each other. For instance, in Part I, Example 1 (hockets) and Example 2 (rhythmic exchanges) are consistently used one after another at the end of each section, thus articulating the structure of the piece through musical repetition. In Part II, however, these ideas serve as unique motivic units that underpin the rhythmic construction of Section IIb and Section IIc respectively. The structural function of these musical ideas might have helped the composer to visualise and therefore to organise his composition in his mind, and the performer to remember it.Footnote 38 The elaboration of rhythmic and melodic units to create a pronounced alternation of texture points towards a clear compositional strategy: repetitions within carefully conceived structures were a source of delight among listeners, performers and, most likely, composers as well.Footnote 39 Therefore, in all likelihood, the rhythmic and structural repetitions of this Gloria must also have been shaped by aesthetic concerns.

Example 3 Conjunct melodic motion in the Gloria (tenor, bb. 112–19)

Example 4 Melodic sequences in the Gloria (triplum, bb. 85–9)

Example 5 Goups of minims in the Gloria repeating intervals of a second (bb. 8–9)

MULTIPLICITER AMANDO: CONCORDANCE AND TRANSMISSION

The isorhythmic motet Multipliciter amando (fols. 1v–2r) is the only piece in the Douai fragment that has a concordance: it also survives in Chantilly, in which it was a unicum until the Douai fragment was discovered. Based on its rhythmic complexity, especially in the upper voices, Ursula Günther has suggested that this motet was composed after the 1380s or in the 1390s.Footnote 40 Despite its presence in the well-studied Chantilly manuscript, the motet in itself has never received much scholarly attention.Footnote 41 This might be due to the difficulty of understanding its textual content. Just like the motet Portio nature/Ida capillorum or the triplum of the motet Apta caro, the texts of Multipliciter amando seem to belong to a category of motets which cannot easily be translated.Footnote 42 Both the triplum and the motetus appear to deal with the power of love (both physical and emotional) to give comfort and pleasure.Footnote 43 The tenor was drawn from the last three words of the chant Introibo ad altare Dei, originally for the Communion of Septuagesima: ‘letificat iuventutem meam’ (‘makes my youth joyful’).Footnote 44 These words can be understood from both a secular and a sacred point of view and might therefore evoke tension between earthly and divine love, echoing the texts of the upper voices.Footnote 45 While the version transmitted in the Douai fragment does not offer any further clarification of the meaning of the text, this witness nevertheless presents an opportunity for a more precise musical understanding of the motet by comparing it with Chantilly.

The most apparent variant between the Chantilly witness and Douai can be found in the use of mensuration signs in Douai to indicate shifts from imperfect tempus with major prolation to perfect tempus with minor prolation, while the scribe of Chantilly used coloration. Because of the use of two different systems, the shift from minor prolation to major prolation encountered at the end of each talea is indicated by black void notation in Douai and by red void notation in Chantilly. The use of mensuration signs instead of red notation can point to practical aspects of the copying process: for example, when discussing the use of red notation, the author of the Tractatus figurarum allows for the use of black void notation instead of red if red ink is not available.Footnote 46 Here the use of mensuration signs is another hint that red ink was indeed not available at the moment of copying the Douai fragment. This hypothesis is also confirmed by the lack of red staves observed above and by the use of black void notation later filled in red in the lower voices of the motet Ferre solet. In addition, the first four mensuration signs in Douai are above or below the stave, whereas all the others are placed appropriately within the stave. This could be an additional hint that the music scribe was copying the motet from a version with red notation and realised while copying that mensuration signs were needed if the motet was being notated without coloration.

Turning back to the different versions of Douai and Chantilly, a note-to-note comparison reveals that the tenors of the two sources are rhythmically and melodically identical apart from four instances,Footnote 47 and even the ligation of the melody is strictly the same. In contrast, a comparison of the triplum voices of Douai and Chantilly reveals forty-two variants (see Example 6 for a critical comparison of the two sources):Footnote 48

  • eighteen variants in pitch

  • fourteen variants in rhythm

  • two variants in pitch and rhythm at the same time

  • four variants in written accidentals

  • three missing notes in one of the two sources

  • one extra note in one of the two sources

Example 6 Triplum of Multipliciter amando with variants in the versions of Chantilly and Douai

The comparison presented in Example 6 demonstrates that ten out of the fourteen rhythmic variants are errors in the Chantilly version, as is the extra note and two of the three missing notes.Footnote 49 Günther and Harrison also identified these rhythmic errors when transcribing the triplum from Chantilly:Footnote 50 Douai can now clarify their rhythmic emendations. Regarding pitch variants – the most common variant type – it has been demonstrated that Chantilly contains a number of errors and, given the results of the rhythmic comparison, it seems reasonable to assume that Douai offers a reading of the motet more musically consistent than Chantilly regarding the pitches as well.Footnote 51 Finally, a comparison of the texts also reveals significant differences: the texts themselves present some discrepancies between the two versions, though neither helps in clarifying the intended meaning (see Appendix 2). The discrepancies are either due to the difficulty of reading Chantilly (the ink has faded in some places) or to the mistakes in Chantilly. For instance, in her 1965 edition, Günther observed that the word ‘secam’ (line 7) is ‘unintelligible’.Footnote 52 The Douai variant helps to clarify the reading by clearly indicating ‘presertim’. Other difficult readings include the first word of line 18: Günther first transcribed it as ‘virus’,Footnote 53 but changed it to ‘vibex’ or ‘nibex’ in her second edition.Footnote 54 Harrison chose the reading ‘vibrus’.Footnote 55 Douai quite clearly reads ‘nil’, which fits neatly with the poetic structure of the poem.Footnote 56 The text underlay in Chantilly is highly problematic, as the very contrasting solutions provided by Günther’s and Harrison’s transcriptions illustrate. Nonetheless, the verses of the triplum are evenly distributed among the taleas (one strophe per talea). The scribe of Douai is very systematic in his alignment: each verse starts at the same location in the three taleas.Footnote 57 He is also relatively precise in the alignment during melismatic passages – a point that resonates with my discussion above, which highlighted the extra attention he paid in the alignment of text and music. Such consistency has not been found in Chantilly. Therefore, it can be argued that musically and textually, Douai presents a more consistent reading of Multipliciter amando than Chantilly.

FERRE SOLET: COMPOSER AND COMPLEXITY

The Marian motet Ferre solet is by far the most complex piece of the Douai fragment, both in terms of its musical setting as well as its text. After presenting the overall structure of the piece, I shall discuss three of its most notable features: the solus tenor, the two Latin canonic instructions and the literary device which encodes a Marian prayer, the name of a hitherto unknown composer and a precise date of composition.

The tenor of the motet is drawn from the Ave Maria antiphon CAO 1539. It presents a few variants from the most standard versions of the antiphon, especially at the beginning: the antiphon usually starts on f, whereas this tenor begins on g. However, a comparison of resources on the Cantus Index database reveals some chant sources that also start on g.Footnote 58 The melisma on ‘tecum’ at bars 51–9 of Ferre solet (g f g f ) is also very similar to the chant copied twice in Fribourg, Bibliothèque des Cordeliers, 2, which reads g f g.Footnote 59 However, the list of chant melodies connected to this antiphon displayed in the Cantus Index presents many variants and it is therefore difficult to assess whether the tenor melody of Ferre solet is drawn from a specific context or if the composer intentionally changed the antiphon for compositional reasons. In any case, the Marian focus is very clear and plays a central role in the piece.

The motet is comprised of an introitus followed by two larger musical sections. The introitus is sung by the triplum and the motetus while the lower voices are silent. Each of the two larger sections encompasses one statement of the tenor color and the contratenor color. These sections are divided into three periods each, which are isorhythmic in all voices. Within each of these periods, the lower voices are composed of two segments: moving from one to the other, the tenor switches from black to red notation and the contratenor switches from red to black notation. The second section (over the second color) introduces new rhythmic ideas in the upper voices, again divided into three periods each. Furthermore, the tenor and contratenor, reading off their respective line of notation, take on a new form by halving the durations of the first segment of each period and doubling the durations of the second segment. As a result, the tenor and the contratenor periods have the same durational value in each of the two larger sections of the motet and switch between black and red notation at the same points. This manipulation by halving durational values also creates a symmetry in the duration of each segment across the first and second sections.Footnote 60 The motetalso includes a fifth voice, a solus tenor, that works the same way as the contratenor (see Figure 3).Footnote 61

Figure 3. Overall structure of Ferre solet

Solus Tenor

The solus tenor of Ferre solet is labelled as such by the scribe at the bottom of fol. 4r of the fragment. A solus tenor is a conflation of two lower parts in a motet, whose function is still the subject of scholarly debate. First considered by Heinrich Besseler as a reduction made after composition for performance in a reduced scoring, this hypothesis was then challenged by Margaret Bent, who considers the solus tenor primarily as an aid in the compositional process at a time when music was not visually aligned in score.Footnote 62 According to Bent, only motets with a grammatically essential contratenor would have needed a solus tenor, that is, a contratenor which shares an essential harmonic foundation with the tenor. In Ferre solet, while the contratenor appears mostly inessential in this sense, it nevertheless does provide a foundation for several unsupported fourths in the upper voices, thus qualifying it on a harmonic level as essential (see, for instance, bb. 133, 144, 148, 160 and 171).Footnote 63 From these two essential lower voices, the composer of Ferre solet would have been able to produce a conflation of tenor and contratenor voices – a solus tenor – which must certainly have supported the composition of the upper parts.

On the other hand, the copying of a solus tenor greatly assists the performance of a four-voice piece as a three-voice piece, as it saves the performers the worry of devising a compositional solution of their own. In a complex piece like Ferre solet, having a written version of a solus tenor already prepared to replace the tenor–contratenor pair would have been of considerable help. Therefore, while Ferre solet does not necessarily allow for a more precise understanding of the function of solus tenors, it nonetheless adds to the repertoire of pieces that survived with this musical feature and may well promote new discussion in the future.

Two Latin Canonic Instructions

The lower voices of the motet are governed by different proportions and mensurations, as mentioned above (see Figure 3). Their structure can be summed up as follows:

  • Tenor

    • Color I, in each of the three taleas:

    • black (perfect modus) at notated values (18 breves)

    • red (perfect modus) at half notated values (9 breves)

    • Color II, in each of the three taleas:

    • black (perfect modus) at half notated values (9 breves)

    • red (perfect modus) at notated values (18 breves)

  • Contratenor

    • Color I, in each of the three taleas:

    • red (perfect modus) at half notated values (18 breves)

    • black (imperfect modus) at half notated values (9 breves)

    • Color II, in each of the three taleas:

    • red (perfect modus) at half their previous values (i.e. at a quarter of the notated values) (9 breves)

    • black (imperfect modus) at notated values (18 breves)

Two separate Latin canonic instructions offer explanations for the reading (and performance) of the two tenor and contratenor colores: the first verbal canon, copied at the end of the motetus (Figure 4), provides a solution for two iterations of the tenor color, whose melody is copied on fol. 3v. The second canon, copied under the first line of the contratenor (Figure 5), presents rules for two iterations of the contratenor and solus tenor color (whose melodies are copied on fol. 4r). The texts lack clarity due to the inconsistent state of preservation of fol. 4.Footnote 64 In what follows, I provide my interpretation of how the instructions set out a solution for reading the lower voices of the motet.

Figure 4. First canonic instruction in Ferre solet (Douai fragment, fol. 4r), end of stave 8

Figure 5. Second canonic instruction in Ferre solet (Douai fragment, fol. 4r), below stave 9

The first canon (Figure 4) contains two different instructions.Footnote 65 The first two lines deal with the poetic structure of the motetus, which is analysed below. The following four lines explain how to perform the tenor, whose melody is stated twice. Line 3 seems to belong with the beginning of line 4 (‘the colour and figure remaining/with the whole *** in both places’). They indicate that in both statements of the tenor melody, a reading must take into account the different ink colours (they must ‘remain’); that is to say, these colours have an effect on the proportions of this voice. It is likely that the trimmed end of line 4 (‘with the whole ***’) contained information about the modus, which must stay perfect in both statements of the tenor melody. The end of line 4 clearly explains that during the first statement the black notes must be read as they are written (‘the black notes are sung the first time as [written]’), that is, in integer valor. By contrast, ‘the others’ (i.e. the red notes) must be read at double the notated value (line 5: ‘the others are uttered at half value’), that is in duple proportion to the integer valor. It is the reverse during the second statement (line 6: ‘and learn that it is sung the other way round’): the black notes must be read at double the notated values and the red notes must be read as written.

The contratenor instruction is written below the contratenor on fol. 4r (Figure 5). The first line clarifies the modus to apply to red and black notation and presents the solution for the first statement of the contratenor melody. The meaning of the text is somewhat unclear owing to the trimming of the folio on the right side and the faded ink. The first portion of the text seems to indicate that during the first statement of the melody, the contratenor must maintain a perfect modus when reading the red notes (i.e. they are ‘still under perfection’).Footnote 66 However, exactly how the imperfect modus of the black notes and the duple proportion are to be applied to both the red and black notes of the contratenor is something that is not clearly expressed in the canon’s current state. That noted, the mention of ‘totaliter’ (‘completely’) may be a hint that both ink colours have the same proportional meaning for the entire first statement of the melody.Footnote 67

The second line of the verbal canon deals with the second statement of the contratenor melody (‘But the second time’) and is much clearer: the beginning indicates that the red notes of the second statement must be read at half their previous values (‘at half from the first time’), i.e. a quarter of the notated value. The end of the second line indicates that in the second statement of the contratenor melody the black notes must be sung ‘as notated and coloured’, i.e. in integer valor.

Although some aspects of the text remain unclear, these types of verbal canon are not uncommon. In her dissertation ‘Verbal Canons and Notational Complexity in Fifteenth-Century Music’, Emily Zazulia proposes three main ways in which composers used verbal canons in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Two of them concern notational issues, in particular the use of coloration and mensuration or proportion signs. The third type of canon was intended ‘to instruct singers to repeat a given line, often changing the way they read the music on subsequent repetitions’.Footnote 68 The canons of Ferre solet belong to this third category: they indicate which proportions and mensurations the singer must use for the first and the second melodic statements of the tenor, contratenor and solus tenor.Footnote 69 As such, the canons have a clear structural value and therefore ‘assume a dynamic, essential role, initiating musical processes rather than merely explaining otherwise complete notation’.Footnote 70 The canon of Ferre solet might thus exemplify the ‘seminal role the visual form of music [could] have played in the act of composition’.Footnote 71

Before turning to the analysis of the texts of the motet, an explanation of the tenor and contratenor (and solus tenor) syncopations is necessary, since they are notably unusual.Footnote 72 All perfect modus segments are syncopated, i.e. the red and the black segments of the tenor and the red segments of the contratenor. The rhythmic result, however, remains in multiples of three.

As an example, Figures 6 and 7 show the first and the second segments of the first talea with the original notation and the transcription. In the contratenor, the single breve annotated Ia is made up to three by the two-breve rest at the end of the segment, annotated Ib (Figure 6). In the tenor, the two-breve rest annotated IIa is made up to three by the one-breve rest IIb (Figure 6). Similarly, the one-breve rest annotated IIIa on Figure 7 is made up to three by the two-breve rest IIIb. The original notation makes this very clear by the use of dots: dots of division clearly indicate which longs are perfect and which are to be imperfected by the following breve.Footnote 73 Moreover, the separation dot between the final two-breve and one-breve rests indicates these two rests are not meant to form a perfection. The editorial barlines of the transcription provided in Appendix 1 show the syncopations by isolating the syncopating note and grouping the bars according to the modus. These syncopations, in addition to the proportional and mensural changes, add significant rhythmic complexities to the motet.Footnote 74

Figure 6. Tenor and contratenor syncopations in Ferre solet (talea 1, segment 1)

Figure 7. Tenor syncopations in Ferre solet (talea 1, segment 2)

Literary Encoding Mechanisms

In addition to a complex compositional design, the motet Ferre solet is built upon three fascinating literary encoding mechanisms:Footnote 75

Motetus

The first poetic construction is found in the motetus text: the last syllables of each line, grouped in threes, form the first four words of the antiphon used in the tenor: ‘ave maria gracia plena’. Such poetic constructions are very common in devotional poetry and not unusual in motet settings. For example, these same words are also the basis of the acrostics in the triplum of Ave regina celorum/Mater innocencie/Tenor of Marchetto of Padua and the triplum and motetus of Aurora vultu pulcrior/Ave virginum flos et vita in the Turin codex. Footnote 76 However, the fact that Ferre solet ciphers the prayer through a telestich already points to the exceptional character of this piece.

The second poetic construction lies in the text of the triplum. A fragmented acrostic ciphers the clerical status and the name of a composer hitherto unknown: Frater Johannes Vavassoris.Footnote 77 Interestingly, to each of the three words corresponds a specific way of forming an acrostic (‘Frater’ is formed by the first letter of each line, ‘Johannes’ by the first letter of each first and third line, ‘Vavassoris’ by the first letter of every third line).

The third poetic construction which sets this motet apart most especially appears again in the motetus. In fact, the acrostic interwoven into the triplum can be read as the beginning of a much larger sentence continued in the motetus: here, another acrostic, this time composed of the first syllables of motetus lines, reads: ‘Anno domini millesimo trecentesimo septuagesimo tercio fecit istum motetum’ (‘[Frater Johannes Vavassoris] made this motet in the year of our Lord thirteen seventy-three [Ave Maria gracia plena]’).Footnote 78

Acrostic composition constitutes part of a very long poetic tradition and one that was highly developed by the Middle Ages.Footnote 79 Indeed, acrostics are far from uncommon in fourteenth-century motets. As in Ferre solet, they can be formed of either the first letters or first syllables of the text and sometimes only a few of these letters (or syllables) are to be taken into account. Such acrostics often take on religious significance, through quotation from the Bible (‘Adina’ in Machaut’s Amours qui a le pouoir/Faus samblant m’a deceu/Vidi Dominum Footnote 80 ), other liturgical phrases (‘Deo gratias’ in an anonymous motet of the Turin codexFootnote 81 ) or the Marian prayer.Footnote 82 The dedicatee is also frequently named in an acrostic,Footnote 83 and this poetic device can also be used as a means of reinforcing the meaning of the whole motet.Footnote 84 However, authorial acrostics are very rare in fourteenth-century motets:Footnote 85 only Marchetto of Padua’s motet Ave regina celorum/Mater innocentie contains one in the motetus voice.Footnote 86 However, even if both Ferre solet and Ave regina celorum are Marian motets, their literary encoding mechanisms seem to have slightly different functions. In Marchetto’s motet, the Marian prayer is inserted in the triplum. His name is presented in the motetus and in the accusative case, which, according to Anne Walters Robertson, ‘signals his plea to be the recipient of grace’.Footnote 87 By contrast, in Ferre solet, the Marian prayer is presented as a telestich in the motetus, while ‘Vavassoris’ is inserted in the triplum and in the nominative case, with the date inserted in the motetus: he clearly presents himself as the narrator and the maker (‘fecit’) of the prayer.Footnote 88

The three literary encoding mechanisms (the two acrostics and the telestich) are all highlighted visually in the fragment. First of all, the scribe reveals the connection between the antiphon used in the tenor and the telestich of the motetus in the verbal canon copied at the end of the motetus. The text states: ‘read the last syllables of this poem: “ave maria gracia plena”, to be read in these T[enors]’ (see above, Figure 4, lines 1–2). The ‘poem’ mentioned here clearly refers to the text of the motetus while the missing text after the letter ‘T’ is without doubt the word ‘Tenoribus’.Footnote 89 The textual connection between the two voices also explains why the canon relating to the motet’s tenor statements is copied on fol. 4r after the motetus and not on fol. 3v near the tenor (where there is still space): it is only at this point that the scribe reveals the relation of the motetus to the tenor and, probably taking advantage of quoting this lower voice, indicates how to sing it immediately afterwards. Furthermore, all the letters that form an acrostic are highlighted by capital letters.Footnote 90 This latter feature of the scribe’s copying process is far from coincidental: the last incomplete motet of the fragment, Salus honor, features an acrostic encoding the name of Saint Lambert (‘Sanctus Lambertus’), which is also highlighted in the source by capital letters.Footnote 91 Consequently, the scribe clearly knew and understood the acrostics. This points at the textual understanding of the scribe, which resonates with his musical understanding outlined above (assuming that the same scribe copied both texts and music): the overall very sensitive alignment of music and text, the careful adjustments from red to black notation and the very small number of mistakes that have been found (compared to, for instance, the Chantilly scribe) suggest that the scribe was quite intimately connected to the compositional milieu.Footnote 92 In any case, such an extreme example of textual and musical interpolation suggests that Vavassoris was responsible for all the texts and music of Ferre solet.

CONCLUSION: SIMILARITIES, CONTRASTS AND PROVENANCE

In conclusion, it can be observed that the five pieces of the Douai fragment share several structural similarities: the motets Ferre solet and Salus honor share textual and copying similarities (the acrostic, highlighted by capital letters); they both open with a rhythmically free introitus and with very similar melodic contours. Interestingly, this melodic contour is also closely related to the incipit of the Gloria, a polyphonic setting which, like these two motets, opens with a duet. Other similarities can be found between Multipliciter amando and Salus honor: for example, they both have one rhythmic pattern that comes to be stated three times in the settings. Contrastingly, Ferre solet and O martir beatissime are comprised of two rhythmic patterns stated three times in their settings, and additionally, both use diminution. However, the musical styles of these pieces seem to point in different directions: the Gloria and Salus honor are set entirely in minor prolation, contrasting with the changes of mensuration and/or proportion in the three other pieces. Similarly, the simple contrapuntal style of the Gloria appears quite distinct from the syncopations of the lower parts in Ferre solet, for instance, or the rhythmic subtleties in Multipliciter amando. In turn, the presence of these contrasting pieces next to each other invites more detailed analysis to be undertaken against the background of a broader repertorial survey.

More generally, the Douai fragment is curious: highly complex music is copied in a rather cheap source (the parchment is of low quality and contains no decoration) by a scribe who was very versed in mensural notation of that time. This opens new questions on the intended use or performance of such music, as the Douai fragment differs from more lavish sources that transmit a similar repertoire, like the aforementioned Ivrea codex or Chantilly.

Similarly, the Douai fragment raises questions about the geographical context for such a complex compositional culture: while no literary encoding mechanisms give any clue to the provenance, the close connection of the name ‘Vavasseur’ with Normandy, together with the incomplete motet dedicated to St Lambert and the current location of the fragment, strongly argue in favour of a northern French or Low Countries provenance.Footnote 93 In spite of the destruction of many archives during the Hundred Years’ War and into the twentieth century, there is evidence for strong musical activity, including complex polyphony, in medieval Flanders, which was after all one of the wealthiest areas in Europe. Footnote 94 The Douai fragment, with its most unusual motet Ferre solet, is another witness not only for the production but also for the transmission and performance of complex polyphonic music in this region and at that time. While it is necessary to proceed with caution, as dating based on stylistic grounds is particularly challenging (if not misleading) Footnote 95 this unique case of composer identity and dating opens numerous avenues for future research, not least with regard to Frater Johannes Vavassoris and the context in which his motet was created, but also with regard to the implications of such a piece for larger narratives about music history.

University of Oslo

APPENDIX 1 Edition of the Music of the Douai Fragment

Notes on the Transcription

The original note values have been halved.

Original clefs have been standardised to treble and transposing treble clefs. Original clefs are recorded in the critical commentary below.

Barlines are editorial. In the motets, barlines in the upper staves mark breve-level units and barlines in the lower staves mark groups of perfections at the modus level. In the Gloria, barlines mark long-level units. Double barlines indicate the end of a talea in motets or of a section in the Gloria. Ticks substitute for regular barlines where a note is syncopated over a barline. Bar numbers correspond to the tempus in the motets and to the modus in the Gloria.

  • Ligatures in the source are indicated in the transcription by square brackets above the staves.

  • Dotted half brackets show black void notes while solid half brackets show red coloration.

  • The cauda hirundinis (inverted ‘v’) below a notehead marks altered notes, a symbol derived from English manuscripts that use it to show alteration.Footnote 96

  • A note shape followed by two vertically aligned dots indicates a note containing three units. This procedure is meant to avoid overloading the modern score with ties.Footnote 97

  • Square brackets around a note indicate alterations to the source. These were undertaken where solutions were absolutely certain and are recorded in the notes to the edition below.

  • Smaller notes are used in the transcription of the motet Multipliciter amando to indicate when notes have been taken from Chantilly (i.e. when the notes are illegible in Douai). Similarly, smaller notes are used in the Gloria when the reading is not entirely certain.

Accidentals: when indicated in the source, B♭s are marked with a ♯. They are transcribed as B♭s in the modern edition.

// mark where the new line starts.

Text underlay: Each poetic line starts with a capital letter.Footnote 98 Illegible passages are indicated with ***. In Multipliciter amando, passages that are illegible have been taken from Chantilly and are indicated in italics. Boldface type marks each element of an acrostic. Punctuation has not been transcribed.Footnote 99

Critical Commentary

O martir beatissime (fol. 1r)

C1 clef | 432 in the source, the ♯ is written before d′. | 672 in the source the ♯ is placed before e′. Footnote 100 | 1433 in the source the ♯ is placed before d′.

Multipliciter amando/Favore habundare/Letificat iuventutem meam (fols. 1v–2r)

Issues in transcribing Multipliciter amando from Chantilly are well recognised: both Ursula Günther and Frank Harrison needed to adjust what was copied in Chantilly to obtain a rhythmically consistent transcription. However, Margaret Bent noticed that both of them misinterpreted the tenor rhythm at the beginning of each talea, creating dissonances at bars 6–8, 42–4, 78–80 of Günther’s and Harrison’s transcriptions. Bent proposes instead to have an imperfect long at bars 4–5, 40–1 and 76–7, and an altered breve at bars 8–9, 80–1 and 44–5.Footnote 101 As her solution considerably improves the consonance between the three voices, the transcription of Multipliciter amando from Douai of this Appendix reproduces her reading of the tenor rhythm.

Triplum: C2 clef, C1 clef from second stave onwards; C2 clef was probably intended as C1 clef as the scribe uses the upper ruling line as a stave line and never uses the original first line of the stave. | 451 b′ instead of c″ | 574 c″ omitted, taken from Chantilly | 582 semibreve rest instead of minim rest.

Motetus: C1 clef (trimmed) | 71 a note is illegible in Douai and missing in Chantilly.

Tenor: C4 clef | 99 rest omitted in the source.

Gloria (fols. 2v–3r)

The Gloria is in duple modus throughout (including the final melismatic section); thus, in the modern edition, a bar is equal to a long.

All voices: 45 the long is written as a breve.

Triplum: C2 clef.

Motetus: C2 clef | 382–391 the voice enters with e′, creating a seventh over the tenor, which sings f. This unusual interval, which lasts an entire breve, is most likely a scribal error. In line with the principles of transcription, it has not been emended. | 583–591 Rests are reconstructed to complete the hocket with the triplum.

Tenor: C4 clef | 1276 rest omitted | 1301–1311 reconstruction of trimmed music.

Ferre solet/Ana theos de gracia/Ave Maria/Contratenor/Solus tenor (fols. 3v–4r)

The edition of Ferre solet presented here has greatly benefitted from the help of Marc Busnel in transcribing the three lower voices, as well as from Lawrence Earp in proofreading the modern edition, and from Margaret Bent, especially in identifying the syncopation in the lower voices (see the editorial barlines and the discussion above, in particular Figure 6 and Figure 7) and in reconstructing parts of the missing polyphony. Any errors are my own.

Triplum: C1 clef (trimmed) | 211–212 reconstruction of trimmed music | 1682 d′ missing (due to the trimming of the margin), this pitch is deduced by comparison to the other taleas: in those places, taleas B1 and B2 repeat the same pitch; therefore, the same is suggested for talea B3.

Motetus: C2 clef, C1 clef from middle of the first stave onwards | 455 b′ instead of a′ | 641 d′ instead of f′ (based on Bent’s suggestion)Footnote 102 | 1271 semibreve rest instead of minim rest (according to the rhythmic repetitions).

Contratenor: F2 clef | 74 reconstruction of the missing end of oblique ligature based on Bent’s suggestion | 75–6 addition of trimmed rests based on rhythmic repetitions | 762–7 reconstruction of missing long based on the solus tenor | 1513–1531 same emendations as bars 74–77 (second statement of the contratenor melody).

Solus tenor: F2 clef | 382 f illegible on the source, emended with the help of the contratenor | 118 same emendations as bar 28 (second statement of the solus tenor melody).

Tenor: F3 clef (trimmed) | 1–9 the first three rests of a long are trimmed.

Salus honor (fol. 4v)

The rests of this single voice clearly indicate perfect modus. Groups of three breves work perfectly in the rhythmically free opening section (first thirty-three breves). However, the taleas are divided into fifty imperfect breves: ternary divisions of the modus do not work across the whole setting. In the absence of the other voices, it is not possible to identify a solution. Therefore, groups of perfection at the modus level are not indicated.

C1 clef | 1–3 It is very likely that a rest is missing at the very beginning of the piece. Indeed, there is a rhythmic repetition in the opening section: bars 4–12 are identical to bars 16–24. It is thus very likely that the rest of bars 13–15 is also present at the beginning of the piece (where the margin has been trimmed).

O martir beatissime (fol. 1r)

Multipliciter amando/Favore habundare/Letificat iuventutem meam (fols. 1v–2r)

Gloria (fols. 2v–3r)

Ferre solet/Ana theos de gracia/Ave Maria/Contratenor/Solus tenor (fols. 3v–4r)

Salus honor (fol. 4v)

Appendix 2 Edition and Translation of the Motet Texts by Leofranc Holford-Strevens

Illegible or apparently untranslatable passages are indicated with ***. Plausible but uncertain readings are indicated by square brackets; nonsensical English renders nonsensical Latin. Words that resist translation are rendered as ??? Capitalisation and punctuation in the Latin texts follow the source. The letter ‘v’ has been transcribed as ‘v’ or ‘u’ depending on the context. If the ‘e’ in the manuscript has a hook, it has been transcribed as ‘ae’. In all other cases, the medieval spellings have been retained. Abbreviations are spelled out, with a note if needed for clarification. Boldface type marks each element of an acrostic. Comments on specific lines of the poems are indicated by an asterisk (*) and are listed immediately after the poem.

O martir beatissime (fol. 1r)

l. 6: the line implies: ‘demonstrating things present [that Messiah had come]’.

l. 18: the theme is the nine orders of angels united in him. ‘Virtutes’ is difficult, since elsewhere in the text it means miracles.

Multipliciter amando/Favore habundare/Letificat iuventutem meam (fols. 1v–2r)

The texts appear to praise the joys of youthful love in order to drive away sorrow and grief, but the intended details are obscure.

Ursula Günther gives the following summary of the texts:

The Triplum begins and ends with the same words multipliciter amando, like the 13th century motet enté. The text criticises the way young people set far too much store by wor[l]dly love (1–3, 8–12), and shows how superior Christian love is, for it brings comfort (13/14), refreshes the spirit (15) and is proof against the blows dealt by fate (16–18). Its gifts are really worth striving for and brings real rewards (19–25). Lines 26–32 deal with the dangerous consequences produced by sensual love. Finally the poet admonishes us to cultivate Christian love with the same intensity as we do wor[l]dly love.

The Motetus too preaches against earthly pleasures and reveals how much better and more valuable virtuous love, which pleases God, is. Both texts are clearly related to the Tenor text incipit Letificat iuventutem meam, which can be interpreted from a secular or sacred point of view. Footnote 103

Modern editions of the Latin texts are given below. The texts are given in the Douai version, with variants from Chantilly (when applicable).

Triplum

Motetus

Tenor

Ferre solet/Ana theos de gracia/Ave Maria/Contratenor/Solus tenor (fols. 3v–4r)

Triplum

l. 3: ‘colore’ is crossed out and replaced by ‘liquore’.

l. 22: ‘sumpno’ is intended for ‘somno’.

l. 24: a preferred reading would be ‘prestat gemmis uvas bonis’ (‘it provides grapes with good buds’), but this cannot be extracted from the traces.

Motetus

l. 1: the Greek ‘Ana theos’ means ‘Arise, God’ or ‘Lord God’. However, such knowledge of Greek would be very unusual, and the invocation soon turns into a statement about Mary. The intended sense of these words therefore remains unclear.

l. 6: the precise meaning of this line remains unclear.

l. 7: the precise meaning of this line remains unclear.

l. 20: translating this line as ‘in a pingax manner’ helps very little when pingax is not known as a Latin word, and (morphologically irregular) association with either pinguis, ‘fat’, or pingo, ‘I paint’, contributes no credible sense.

l. 24: ‘fere’ might be a misspelling of ‘ferre’, in which case the line should be translated as follows: ‘which can endure everything’.

l. 26: the manuscript does read ‘istringos’, though it does not make sense.

Tenor

Ave maria gracia plena dominus tecum benedicta tu in mulieribus Alleluya

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women. Alleluia.

Salus honor (fol. 4v)

l. 5: the line implies: ‘to Saul for the thousands [whom he has slain]’.

l. 9: the precise meaning of this line remains unclear.

l. 10: John the Precursor designates John the Baptist. The Latin original uses datives for ablatives.

l. 12: literally, the line reads: ‘of the marriage-bed, as is read’.

l. 30: the manuscript seems to read ‘omnimodis’ rather than ‘omnimode’ or ‘omnimodo’; the sense is the same in all cases.

l. 34: the ephah was a biblical dry measure, equivalent to 432 eggs; modern estimates range from 22 to 45 litres.

Footnotes

Portions of this article were presented at the Medieval and Renaissance Music Conference in Brussels, 2015 and at the Seminar in Medieval and Renaissance Music in All Souls College, Oxford, 2020. I wish to thank the Bibliothèque Marceline Desbordes-Valmore in Douai and its librarian Jean Vilbas for their kind cooperation in making the source available. Images of the fragment are reproduced here with their permission.

I am very grateful to David Fiala for introducing me to this source, as well as to Marc Busnel, Jean-François Goudesenne, Barbara Haggh-Huglo, Daniel Saulnier and Katelijne Schiltz for providing me with materials or many stimulating discussions at early stages of my research. Many thanks to Antonio Calvia, Antonio Chemotti, Michael S. Cuthbert, Jared Hartt, Frieda van der Heijden and Karl Kügle for their helpful comments on earlier drafts; to Adam Mathias for his time in turning my text into elegant prose; as well as to the reviewers of Early Music History and Bonnie Blackburn for their very welcome suggestions. My most sincere thanks go to Leofranc Holford-Strevens for his precious help with the edition and translation of the Latin texts which appear in the main text and Appendix 2; unless otherwise stipulated, all Latin translations are by him. For their input and invaluable feedback, I most sincerely thank Margaret Bent and Lawrence Earp. Finally, my deepest gratitude goes to Fañch Thoraval and Vasco Zara for their essential and continuous intellectual support.

The following abbreviations are used:

CAO Corpus Antiphonalium Officii

Chantilly Chantilly, Bibliothèque du Château de Chantilly, MS 564

Old Hall London, British Library, Add. MS 58950

PMFC Polyphonic Music of the Fourteenth Century (Monaco, 1956–91)

Turin codex Turin, Biblioteca nazionale, MS J.II.9

References

1 This fragment was brought to the attention of musicologists through two catalogue entries: B. Haggh, ‘Notice 54’, in B. Bouckaert (ed.), Mémoires du chant: Le livre de musique d’Isidore de Séville à Edmond de Coussemaker (Neerpelt and Lille, 2007), p. 81 and C. Meyer, Catalogue des manuscrits notés du Moyen Age conservés dans les bibliothèques publiques de France: Collections du Nord – Pas-de-Calais et de Picardie, ii: Chantilly, Douai, Laon, Lille, Saint-Omer, Saint-Quentin, Soissons, Valenciennes (Turnhout, 2016), p. 119. As will be shown below, however, their descriptions of, respectively, six and seven pieces will be amended in the present article.

2 The layout of the Gloria (see Figure 1 below) has led to misinterpretations of the piece as a four-voice Gloria (Meyer, Collections du Nord – Pas-de-Calais et de Picardie, p. 119).

3 Chantilly, fols. 69v–70r. On medieval motets, see M. Bent, The Motet in the Late Middle Ages (New York and Oxford, forthcoming).

4 Digital Image Archive of Medieval Music: https://www.diamm.ac.uk/sources/3939/#/ (acc. 4 Nov. 2020).

5 E. de Coussemaker, Histoire de l’harmonie au Moyen Age (Paris, 1852), pp. 210–11: ‘Deux fragments incomplets de musique du xiv e siècle, servant de garde à un manuscrit de la bibliothèque de Douai, sont écrits en notation noire et rouge’ (translation mine). Thanks to Lawrence Earp for alerting me to this reference (private communication, 16 May 2020).

6 ‘On y remarque que les notes marquées en rouge étaient d’abord vides, et l’observation qui accompagne la partie de contraténor attribue aux notes vides la même propriété qu’aux notes longues.’ Ibid., p. 211.

7 Coussemaker’s description is too brief to ascertain whether the second fragment he mentions is fol. 3v (which also features black void notes later filled in red).

8 C. Dehaisnes, Catalogue général des manuscrits des bibliothèques publiques des départements, vi: Douai (Paris, 1878), p. 733.

9 Further archival research may allow for the identification of the host manuscript(s) or for better readings of the damaged folios – an approach that has produced a number of new findings in previous scholarship when examining similar fragmentary sources. See, for instance, D. Fallows, ‘L’Origine du Ms. 1328 de Cambrai’, Revue de Musicologie, 62 (1976), pp. 275–80 and I. Lerch, Fragmente aus Cambrai: Ein Beitrag zur Rekonstruktion einer Handschrift mit spätmittelalterlicher Polyphonie, 2 vols. (Kassel and New York, 1987).

10 B. Haggh, ‘Notice 54’.

11 A white paper sheet has also been pasted on top of fol. 4v. White paper of the same type and of the same width is also visible on top of fols. 1v, 2r and 3v, but it has been cut off on these folios. Nothing is written on the paper pasted on fol. 4v, but the quality of the paper, marked with printed blue lines, suggests that it was added when the fragment was taken out of the binding in the nineteenth century.

12 Arguably, it is possible that the original foliation did not survive the trimming. For convenience, I number the folios 1 to 4, though, as the two incomplete pieces testify, these bifolios were preceded and followed by at least two other folios.

13 The use of black ink instead of red (as one might have expected in such a source) is most likely due to the unavailability of red ink when the source was first copied. The ink availability is discussed further below.

14 The use of a rastrum is generally difficult to prove. Here, I base my observations on the criteria established by Derolez: the staves are of even width (16 mm), the lines of each stave are of the same length and the staves are continuous (they are not interrupted by the decorated initials nor by verbal canons; see, for example, fol. 4r). In addition, the space between each stave is inconsistent (between 9 and 15 mm in height). See A. Derolez, ‘The Codicology of Late Medieval Music Manuscripts: Some Preliminary Observations’, in J. Haines (ed.), The Calligraphy of Medieval Music (Turnhout, 2011), pp. 23–36, at pp. 32–3.

15 Private communication, 5 May 2020.

16 J. Haines and S. Udell, ‘Motets, Manuscript Culture, Mise-en-page’, in J. C. Hartt (ed.), A Critical Companion to Medieval Motets (Woodbridge, 2018), pp. 175–92, esp. pp. 191–92. Concerning earlier sources, Oliver Huck provides an interesting discussion about the layout of motets in O. Huck, ‘The Layout of the Early Motet’, Journal of the Alamire Foundation, 7 (2015), pp. 11–32.

17 This is a standard procedure in this period. Similar copying processes in the Old Hall manuscript are, for instance, discussed in M. Bent, ‘Text Setting in Sacred Music of the Early 15th Century: Evidence and Implications’, in U. Günther and L. Finscher (eds.), Musik und Text in der Mehrstimmigkeit des 14. und 15. Jahrhunderts: Vorträge des Gastsymposiums in der Herzog August Bibliothek Wolfenbüttel, 8. bis 12. September 1980 (Kassel, 1984), pp. 291–326, esp. pp. 294–7 (repr. in M. Bent, Counterpoint, Composition and Musica Ficta (New York and London, 2002), pp. 273–300, at pp. 275–7).

18 See below for more detail on this feature.

19 On the poetic structure, see Appendix 2 by Leofranc Holford-Strevens.

20 Based on this, Margaret Bent postulates that it should be possible to reconstruct a tenor, possibly taken from a chant for John the Baptist. She also suggests that the tenor of the B section is in diminution and that the pitches of this triplum are sufficiently compatible to allow the conclusion that the same tenor color is repeated in diminution for the B section (private communication, 5 May 2020). More in-depth research is still necessary to reconstruct the missing melody.

21 In this strophic structure, the number of syllables is also almost exactly halved: one neuvain is composed of seventy-two syllables, one cinquain of thirty-seven (the lengths of the corresponding taleas almost fit these numbers: A taleas are seventy-two imperfect semibreves long and B taleas are thirty-six imperfect semibreves long).

22 John 3:30. Michael Anderson provides detailed analysis of how composers ‘attempted to portray the Baptist’s “diminishing” quality either through the transformation of mensuration or the truncation of note values’ in M. A. Anderson, ‘The One Who Comes after Me: John the Baptist, Christian Time, and Symbolic Musical Techniques’, Journal of the American Musicological Society, 66 (2013), pp. 639–708, at pp. 644–5 and 655–65.

23 This copying process is important in the Douai fragment and is discussed in the section dedicated to the motet Ferre solet. The poem and its translation are provided in Appendix 2.

24 For the historical context of the cult of St Lambert in medieval Liège, see C. Saucier, A Paradise of Priests: Singing the Civic and Episcopal Hagiography of Medieval Liège (Rochester, 2014). More generally, St Lambert’s veneration was very strong all over northern France.

25 For an updated bibliography on polyphonic Gloria settings and their place in the context of masses, see K. Kügle, ‘Liturgical Polyphony after 1300’, in M. Everist and T. F. Kelly (eds.), The Cambridge History of Medieval Music (Cambridge, 2018), pp. 881–906.

26 Bar numbers refer to the edition provided below. Translation mine.

27 On Gloria tropes, see G. Iversen, Corpus Troporum XII: Tropes du Gloria, 2 vols. (Stockholm, 2014); K. Rönnau, Die Tropen zum Gloria in excelsis Deo: Unter besonderer Berücksichtigung des Repertoires der St. Martial-Handschriften (Wiesbaden, 1967); M. A. Leach, ‘The “Gloria in Excelsis Deo” Tropes of the Breme-Novalesa Community and the Repertory in North and Central Italy’ (Ph.D. diss., University of North Carolina and Chapel Hill, 1986); as well as the essays collected in A. E. Planchart (ed.), Embellishing the Liturgy: Tropes and Polyphony (Farnham, 2009). On the early sources of Gloria tropes, see T. F. Kelly, ‘Introducing the “Gloria in Excelsis”’, Journal of the American Musicological Society, 37 (1984), pp. 479–506 (repr. in Planchart (ed.), Embellishing the Liturgy, pp. 485–512).

28 See A. E. Planchart, ‘Introduction’, in Planchart (ed.), Embellishing the Liturgy, p. xxxix, and PMFC 23A. On the Spiritus etalme trope, see B. Schmid, Der Gloria-Tropus Spiritus etalme bis zur Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts (Tutzing, 1988).

29 Iversen remarks that most Gloria tropes are neither versified nor rhymed. Iversen, Corpus Troporum XII: Tropes du Gloria, p. 55. It should be noted that tropes between the phrases ‘quoniam’ and ‘cum sancto’ are very common. See Planchart, ‘Introduction’, p. xxxviii. For other possibilities of trope insertions and their frequency, see the very clear summary in Iversen, Corpus Troporum XII: Tropes du Gloria, p. 26.

30 Analecta Hymnica Medii Aevi, ed. G. M. Dreves and Cl. Blume, 55 vols. (Leipzig, 1886–1922), 53, no. 1, p. 3. At least one Gloria trope appears to be drawn from this text, no. 16 of Iversen, Corpus Troporum XII: Tropes du Gloria, pp. 132–3 (line 35: ‘salus eterna indeficiens, mundi vita’). It should also be noted that light is a very common theme of Gloria tropes.

31 Planchart, ‘Introduction’, p. xxxviii.

32 Interestingly, it does not rival the length of the final Amen of the Gloria from the Mass of Tournai (169 breves in its modern edition, PMFC 1, pp. 116–19), but its size is rather exceptional. Among the sixty-eight complete polyphonic Glorias edited in PMFC, the average length of the final melisma is twenty-four breves and only five melismatic settings exceed thirty breves: the Amen section of the Mass of Barcelona (thirty-six breves; PMFC 1, p. 149); the ‘Gloria Rosetta’ by Zachara da Teramo (thirty-nine breves; PMFC 13, p. 7); the Gloria of the Mass of Sorbonne (forty-eight breves; PMFC 23A, p. 8); Gloria 40 (fifty-one breves; PMFC 23A, p. 167); and Gloria 46 (fifty-five breves; PMFC 55, p. 155).

33 See Kügle, ‘Liturgical Polyphony after 1300’, p. 903. For a brief but useful overview of polyphonic Amen sections, see E. Honisch, ‘The Transmission of the Polyphonic Amen in the Early Fifteenth Century’, Plainsong and Medieval Music, 21 (2012), pp. 41–72, at pp. 45–6. As Honisch notes, a systematic tracing of the early history of Amen polyphonic settings has yet to be achieved (the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians and Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart, for instance, only briefly mention such compositions: G. Chew, E. Foley, and J. Dyer, ‘Amen’, The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, https://doi.org/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.article.00764 (acc. 4 Nov. 2020), and K. Schlager, ‘Amen’, MGG Online, https://www.mgg-online.com/mgg/stable/11714 (acc. 4 Nov. 2020)). Some examples can nonetheless be found in K. Kügle, ‘A Fresh Look at the Liturgical Settings in Manuscript Ivrea, Bibl. cap. 115’, Revista de Musicología, 16 (1993), pp. 2452–75, esp. pp. 2464–70.

34 Furthermore, the three voices are texted but no text is supplied for the melisma. In the fourteenth century, Amen sections were either clearly separated from the previous music (as in Douai or in the source Apt, Basilique Saint-Anne Trésor 16bis) or clearly bound to it (as in the Old Hall manuscript). See Honisch, ‘The Transmission of the Polyphonic Amen’, p. 46. In order to underline the variety of polyphonic Amen settings, Honisch also provides an updated terminology to discuss and analyse the Amen section, especially from the early fifteenth century, based, for instance, on musical texture, motivic material or copying processes.

35 Such openings in two voices are not unusual in polyphonic Glorias. They are, for instance, typical of Zachara’s Glorias. See M. S. Cuthbert, ‘Trecento Fragments and Polyphony beyond the Codex’ (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 2006), pp. 71–2.

36 Only Glorias in strict minor prolation and of French provenance have been taken into consideration, based on PMFC 23A. They include the following Glorias: 30, 32, 33, 34, 39, 40, 41, 43, 44, 45 and 47.

37 At first glance, Example 5 (groups of minims repeating intervals of a second) might be considered a typical treatment of minims in fourteenth-century music. However, the use of minims in the Gloria is markedly different from their use in the motet Ferre solet, for instance (and, to some extent, in Multipliciter amando as well). Moreover, they clearly have a structural significance in the Gloria: they give rise to the entire melodic idea of the motetus in the introitus; they are very often placed at the beginning or end of sentences of the text (or placed at the end of musical ideas in the Amen section, e.g. b. 124 and b. 128); and they are used to build the entire third section of the Amen. Therefore, it seems appropriate to emphasise this structural feature.

38 From this perspective, this piece could function as an example of what Anna Maria Busse Berger refers to as ‘chunking’, a term taken from psychology to designate the combination of ‘a number of separate items into a group’. A. M. Busse Berger, Medieval Music and the Art of Memory (Berkeley, 2005), p. 199.

39 For a recent example in a thirteenth-century musical context, see C. A. Bradley, Polyphony in Medieval Paris: The Art of Composing with Plainchant (Cambridge, 2018), esp. pp. 81–110.

40 She underlines the ‘very long and complicated’ tenor formula and ‘the upper voices [which] have changes of measure, syncopations and conflicting rhythms even in the smallest note-values’. The Motets of the Manuscripts Chantilly, Musée Condé, 564 (olim 1047) and Modena, Biblioteca Estense, A. M. 5.24 (olim Lat. 568), ed. U. Günther (Corpus Mensurabilis Musicae, 39; Rome, 1965), p. xxvii. See also ead., ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, Musica Disciplina, 12 (1958), pp. 27–50, at pp. 43–6.

41 In addition to the comments and edition by Günther ( ibid.), the Chantilly version of the motet is also mentioned by R. Nosow and R. Strohm, though only in passing: R. Nosow, ‘The Equal-Discantus Motet Style after Ciconia’, Musica Disciplina, 45 (1991), pp. 221–75, at p. 234, and R. Strohm, The Rise of European Music, 1380–1500 (Cambridge, 1993; repr. 2005), p. 41. Modern editions of the motet (based on Chantilly) have been published in Günther, ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, pp. 48–50; The Motets of the Manuscripts Chantilly ... and Modena, ed. Günther, pp. 14–16, and Motets of French Provenance, ed. F. Ll. Harrison (PMFC 5; Monaco, 1974), pp. 167–71.

42 L. A. Holford-Strevens, ‘Latin Poetry and Music’, in Everist and Kelly (eds.), The Cambridge Companion to Medieval Music, pp. 225–40, at p. 236. For a recent discussion on Portio nature see E. Zazulia, ‘A Motet ahead of its Time? The Curious Case of Portio nature/Ida capillorum’, in Hartt (ed.), A Critical Companion to Medieval Motets, pp. 341–54. Already in 1974 A. G. Rigg underlined the difficulty of translating the texts of Multipliciter amando: A. G. Rigg, ‘Notes on Latin Texts’, in Motets of French Provenance (Supplement), ed. Harrison, p. 19.

43 Rigg, ‘Notes on Latin Texts’, p. 19. On the meaning of the text, see also Appendix 2.

44 Its presence in the Laon Gradual proves the existence of this chant from at least the second half of the eighth century: Laon, Bibliothèque municipale, MS 239, fol. 39v, http://manuscrit.ville-laon.fr/_app/index.php?tri=&saisie=239 (acc. 4 Nov. 2020). Harrison identified a version in Rouen, Bibliothèque municipale, MS 0277 (Y. 050), fol. 39r, dating from c. 1231–45 (Harrison, PMFC 5, p. 208). The full text reads: ‘Introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum qui letificat iuventutem meam’ (‘I will go in to the altar of God, to God the joy of my youth’).

45 See Rigg, ‘Notes on Latin Texts’, p. 19 and The Motets of the Manuscripts Chantilly ... and Modena, ed. Günther, p. xxvii.

46 Tractatus figurarum, ed. and trans. P. Schreur (Lincoln, NE, 1989), p. 18 and pp. 86–7.

47 Thanks to melodic and rhythmic repetitions, these differences are easily identifiable. Günther already mentioned these in Günther, ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, esp. p. 55. There are only three missing notes in the first tenor color of Chantilly and one rest is missing in Douai (b. 99).

48 Due to the damaged state of fol. 2r, it has not been possible to compare the motetus from the two sources. This analysis, therefore, focuses on the tenor and triplum voices only. Dots have not been considered as differences, but they are recorded in the edition.

49 Rectangles highlight the differences; the first line of text in the Chantilly variant is taken from Günther, ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, pp. 48–50, the second from Harrison, PMFC 5, pp. 167–71; the spelling follows the sources (Douai, Günther, Harrison) but capital letters have been added at the beginning of each verse for the sake of clarity; ticks on the staves mark breve-level units; the sign // marks where the new line starts; right angles indicate red coloration.

50 However, Margaret Bent has noticed that both of them got the tenor rhythm wrong at the beginning (private communication, 24 July 2015). For the solution she offers, see the notes to the edition to the Douai transcriptions in Appendix 1.

51 Concerning copying errors in Chantilly, see Y. Plumley and A. Stone, Bibliothèque du château de Chantilly ... and Modena, Ms. 564: Introduction (Turnhout, 2007), pp. 57–63. Günther also emphasises that ‘errors in the original manuscript [i.e. Chantilly] are especially numerous in this piece’; ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, p. 44.

52 The Motets of the Manuscripts Chantilly ... and Modena, ed. Günther, p. xxviii.

53 Günther, ‘The 14th-Century Motet and its Development’, pp. 49 and 56.

54 The Motets of the Manuscripts Chantilly ... and Modena, ed. Günther, pp. xxviii and 15.

55 Harrison, PMFC 5, p. 169.

56 The poem of the triplum has an (almost) palindromic structure: the first two strophes are composed of three lines each of eight, four and seven syllables respectively, following an aab rhyme scheme. They are followed by two strophes of three lines each of seven, three and eight syllables, respectively, following a bba rhyme scheme.

57 There is one exception at verses 8, 20 and 32, which begin, respectively, at bb. 22, 57 and 95 (see the transcription in Appendix 1). Within each verse, the placement of the syllables within the taleas varies.

58 Witnesses of the Ave Maria antiphon starting on g have been found in a late thirteenth-century or early fourteenth-century Franciscan antiphoner (Fribourg, Bibliothèque des Cordeliers, 2, fols. 23r and 175v), in an antiphoner from St. Mary’s Church in Utrecht (Utrecht, Universiteitsbibliotheek, MS 406 (shelfmark 3 J 7), fol. 14r), in another fourteenth-century Franciscan antiphoner of unknown origin (John J. Burns Library, Boston College, MS 1996.097, fol. 17v), in a fourteenth-century processional copied in Padua (Padua, Biblioteca Capitolare, MS C.55, fol. 36v) and in an early sixteenth-century Franciscan chant book of unknown origin (Montréal, Humanities and Social Sciences Library McLennan-Redpath, CDN-Mlr 111, fol. 15). See also the Cantus Index: http://cantusindex.org/id/001539 (acc. 4 Nov. 2020).

59 See the online version of fol. 15r: http://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/fcc/0002/23r/medium and of fol. 175v: (http://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/en/fcc/0002/175v/medium) (acc. 4 Nov. 2020).

60 Processes of symmetry and inversion seem to be an essential compositional strategy in the motet. For instance, they can be observed in the duration of each section or in the verbal canon ruling the tenor notation (see below). I am currently preparing an article which will analyse the inversion in Ferre solet in more detail.

61 For this reason (and for the sake of clarity), when I refer to ‘contratenor’ in the following, I mean ‘contratenor and solus tenor’.

62 On the former assumption, see H. Besseler, Bourdon und Fauxbourdon: Studien zum Ursprung der niederländischen Musik (Leipzig, 1950, repr. 1974), p. 87. This approach was then reiterated by Shelley Davis in the comprehensive – though somewhat outdated – study of solus tenors: S. Davis, ‘The Solus Tenor in the 14th and 15th Centuries’, Acta Musicologica, 39 (1967), pp. 44–64, and ‘The Solus Tenor: An Addendum’, Acta Musicologica, 40 (1968), pp. 176–8. On the latter assumption, see especially M. Bent, ‘Some Factors in the Control of Consonance and Sonority: Successive Composition and the Solus Tenor’, in D. Heartz and B. Wade (eds.), Report of the Twelfth Congress of the International Musicological Society, Berkley, 1977 (Kassel, 1981), pp. 625–34, and M. Bent, Counterpoint, Composition and Musica Ficta, esp. pp. 38–46. Bent, nevertheless, does not reject the former hypothesis and includes it in the secondary functions of solus tenor: M. Bent, ‘Pycard’s Double Canon: Evidence or Revision?’, in C. A. Banks etal. (eds.), Sundry Sorts of Music Books: Essays on The British Library Collections Presented to O. W. Neighbour on his 70th Birthday (London, 1993), pp. 10–26, at p. 20 (repr. in Bent, Counterpoint, Composition and Musica Ficta, pp. 255–72, at p. 265). Recently, Jason Stoessel and Denis Collins have also illustrated the function of the solus tenor as a compositional aid by using this function as an analytical tool of the mid-fourteenth-century French chace: J. Stoessel and D. Collins, ‘New Light on the Mid-Fourteenth-Century Chace: Canons Hidden in the Tournai Manuscript’, Music Analysis, 38 (2019), pp. 155–203, at pp. 163–71.

63 I would like to thank Margaret Bent for pointing out to me this compositional aspect of the piece.

64 However, it should be noted that these canons are not presented in the form of riddles, which became common only later. As Katelijne Schiltz has shown, obscurity can be an ‘intended effect’, but also an ‘unintended byproduct’, ‘caused by historical changes in language and style [or resulting] from vagaries of transmission and from a reader’s distance from the original text’ (K. Schiltz, Music and Riddle Culture in the Renaissance (Cambridge, 2015), p. 44). The canons of Ferre solet belong to the latter category and their obscurity seems to result in particular from what Schiltz might describe as the ‘vagaries of transmission’. As I discuss below, through this canon, the composer recognised ‘the capacity of [his] music to engage with the physical aspects of notation’, rather than deliberately engaging the performers in a musical riddle to be solved (E. C. Zazulia, ‘Verbal Canons and Notational Complexity in Fifteenth-Century Music’ (Ph.D. diss., University of Pennsylvania, 2012), p. 190).

65 Due to trimming of the left margin of fol. 4, the end of the canon is missing. However, the transcription of the motetus shows that no note is missing, which suggests that only a few letters of the canon have been lost. These are indicated by ***.

66 Interestingly, in Ferre solet, the notes were originally void and then filled in with red ink (in all three of the lower voices). This is why the scribe added the instruction ‘vel vacuis’ (‘or void’), to match his first copy. Then, he, or a later hand, must have decided to fill the void notes in red in order to fit the verbal canon. This strongly suggests that the scribe was copying the piece from a manuscript with red notation and that the book was intended to be understood on a musical level (though not necessarily for practical performance).

67 In addition, the imperfect modus of the black segments is rather easily identified through the musical notation.

68 Zazulia, ‘Verbal Canons and Notational Complexity’, p. 25.

69 The first category (colorations) could also have fit both canons of Ferre solet, but in this particular case, the proportional rules set out by the canons (however clearly or unclearly stated) obviously play a more structural role than the colours of the notes, which, whether black or red, have no systematic meaning.

70 Zazulia, ‘Verbal Canons and Notational Complexity’, p. 83. For other examples of proportion canons in polyphonic compositions around 1400, see V. Newes, ‘Mensural Virtuosity in Non-Fugal Canons c. 1350 to 1450’, in K. Schiltz and B. J. Blackburn (eds.), Canons and Canonic Techniques, 14th–16th centuries: Theory, Practice, and Reception History (Leuven, 2007), pp. 19–46. In addition, this motet helps clarify a terminological issue: the written signs of the lower voices are visually rhythmically the same, but the different proportions used aurally create two distinct rhythmic patterns. Ferre solet, therefore, is not strictly speaking a ‘true isorhythmic motet’ (defined as the repetition of exactly the same rhythmic patterns, using exactly the same note values), further illustrating the problematic use of ‘isorhythm’ as defining a musical genre. Because of the rhythmic structure of its voices, Ferre solet can rather be defined as a motet with period articulation, a terminology borrowed from M. Bent, ‘What Is Isorhythm?’, in D. B. Cannata etal. (eds.), ‘Quomodo Cantabimus Canticum?’: Studies in Honor of Edward H. Roesner (Middleton, WI, 2008), pp. 121–43, at p. 128. For an updated discussion of the use of ‘isorhythm’, see L. Earp, ‘Isorhythm’, in Hartt (ed.), A Critical Companion to Medieval Motets, pp. 77–101.

71 Zazulia, ‘Verbal Canons and Notational Complexity’, p. 190.

72 Because the contratenor and solus tenor work the same way, I will only refer to the contratenor here. I wish to thank Margaret Bent for her precious help in identifying these syncopations.

73 For a recent discussion on notational dots in the fourteenth century, see K. Desmond, Music and the moderni, 1300–1350: The ars nova in Theory and Practice (Cambridge, 2018), esp. ch. 6, ‘Notational Dots and the Line of Musical Time’, pp. 198–236.

74 The musical complexity of this motet will be viewed from a wider perspective in a forthcoming article. For an overview of syncopation in motets in the fourteenth century, see ibid ., pp. 59–61. See also the discussion of Machaut’s motet 10 in M. Bent, ‘Machaut’s Motet 10 and its Interconnections’, in Hartt (ed.), A Critical Companion to Medieval Motets, pp. 301–19, esp. at p. 309.

75 The translation, provided in Appendix 2, has not been included here to better visualise the poetic construction of the motet.

76 Turin codex, fols. 61v–62r. In the same manuscript, the motet Assumpta gemma virginum/Gratulandum mente pia (fols. 60v–61r) also contains an acrostic on the Marian prayer.

77 Here again, one might recall the acrostic in Ave regina caelorum, which ciphers Marchetto’s name in the motetus in the accusative case. I wish to thank David Fiala and Emmanuel Grélois for their help with the transcription of the text and identification of the composer’s acrostic in the early stages of this research.

78 Holford-Strevens has remarked on the inconsistency between the poems of the triplum (of good quality) and of the motetus (of significantly lesser quality). Such inconsistency between texts obviously by the same author is unusual but might be connected to the very high poetic constraints in the motetus: over the eight syllables composing each line, the first and the last one were already taken by the acrostic and telestich.

79 This tradition can be traced back to at least 1000 BC. (T. V. Brogan and D. A. Colón, ‘Acrostic’, in R. Greene (ed.), The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics (Princeton, 2012), p. 6). In the Middle Ages, one finds acrostics in works of great poets such as Chrétien de Troyes, Dante, Boccaccio and Eustache Deschamps.

80 This biblical character (Genesis 30:21) has a link with the texts of the tenor, motetus and triplum of the motet. M. Bent, ‘Deception, Exegesis and Sounding Number in Machaut’s Motet 15’, Early Music History, 10 (1991), pp. 15–27, at pp. 24–5.

81 Da magne pater rector Olimpi/Donis affatim perfluit orbis (Turin codex, fols. 90v–91r).

82 The aforementioned anonymous motet Assumpta gemma virginum/Gratulandum mente pia (Turin codex, fols. 60v–61r) or the motet Ave regina celorum/Mater innocentie by Marchetto of Padua.

83 Among numerous examples, I mention here the earlier example of O canenda/Rex quem by Philippe de Vitry, in which the motetus contains the acrostic ‘Robertus’ (Robert d’Anjou, King of Naples) and the two motets by Jacopo da Bologna, Lux purpurata radiis/Diligita justiciam and Laudibus dignis merito (incomplete), in which both the triplums form the acrostic ‘Luchinus’ (Luchino Visconti).

84 A very interesting example is the recent discovery by Melanie Schaffer of an acrostic in Machaut’s motet 13 (Tans doucement/Eins que ma dame/Ruina), which adds a new layer of meaning to the piece. See M. Schaffer, ‘Finding Fortune in Motet 13: Insights on Ordering and Borrowing in Machaut’s Motets’, Plainsong and Medieval Music, 26 (2017), pp. 115–39.

85 M. Bent, Magister Jacobus de Ispania, Author of the Speculum musicae (Farnham, 2015), pp. 152–3. This changes from the fifteenth century onwards, since acrostics encoding a composer’s name become much more common in the Renaissance, with composers like Du Fay, Busnoys or Josquin. See Schiltz, Music and Riddle Culture in the Renaissance, pp. 273–5.

86 The motet was composed almost seventy years before Vavassoris’ motet, in 1305, probably for the consecration of the Scrovegni Chapel, as proposed by F. A. Gallo, ‘Marchettus de Padua und die “franco-venetische” Musik des Frühen Trecento’, Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 31 (1974), pp. 42–56.

87 A. W. Robertson, ‘The Seven Deadly Sins in Medieval Music’, in R. G. Newhauser and S. J. Ridyard (eds.), Sin in Medieval and Early Modern Culture: The Tradition of the Seven Deadly Sins (Woodbridge, 2012), pp. 191–222, at p. 195.

88 Similar phenomena in a more recent period have recently been analysed by J. D. Hatter, Composing Community in Late Medieval Music: Self-Reference, Pedagogy, and Practice (Cambridge, 2019), esp. pp. 53–93. I shall discuss in more detail the links between signature, dating and prayer in Ferre solet in a forthcoming article.

89 The use of the plural may refer to the fact that the three lower voices are based on the Marian antiphon, or derived from it.

90 Using capital letters to signal an acrostic is in itself not unusual. But in this case the text is copied underneath the music and thus does not follow the rhyme form expected in vertical presentations of poems. In fourteenth-century music sources, there is no standard capitalisation of texts set to music: capital letters are sometimes used for the very first letter only, sometimes for all poetic lines, sometimes for a group of verses. Therefore, using capital letters in this copy of Ferre solet is certainly significant.

91 See Appendix 2.

92 One might speculate that the scribe was acquainted with or even could have been Vavassoris himself. I explore this hypothesis in a forthcoming article.

93 The name ‘Vavassoris’ (‘Vavassor’) is originally a term in feudal law to designate a vassal of another vassal (coming from the Old French ‘vavasour’, it might be built on the Medieval Latin ‘vassus vassorum’, ‘vassal of vassals’; see the Oxford English Dictionary). While not specific to a particular region, it seems to have been particularly used in northern France, especially in Normandy, where it later became a rather common name (J. Yver, ‘“Vavassor”: Note sur les premiers emplois du terme’, Annales de Normandie, 40 (1990), pp. 31–48). In the current state of play, too many different ‘Johannes Vavassoris’ have been identified to enable me to link the composer of this motet to a specific individual. At this stage, the evidence only indicates that he was part of the regular clergy and, to judge by his Latin, had a strong university background. Archival research is currently being conducted to try to identify him precisely.

94 E. Fankhauser, ‘Recycling Reversed: Studies in the History of Polyphony in the Northern Low Countries around 1400’ (Ph.D. diss., Utrecht University, 2018). Studies in this region often focus on music in civic festivities or rituals. For an updated discussion, see P. Gretchen, The Musical Sounds of Medieval French Cities: Players, Patrons, and Politics (Cambridge, 2012).

95 For a recent discussion on such challenges and how modern scholarship can (or cannot) solve them, see Zazulia, ‘A Motet ahead of its Time? The Curious Case of Portio nature/Ida capillorum’.

96 On this notational feature see, for instance, M. Bent, ‘A Preliminary Assessment of the Independence of English Trecento Notation’, in A. Ziino (ed.), L’Ars Nova italiana del Trecento IV (Certaldo, 1978), pp. 65–82.

97 This practice can be found, for instance, in J. C. Hartt, ‘Tonal and Structural Implications of Isorhythmic Design in Guillaume de Machaut’s Tenors’, Theory and Practice, 35 (2010), pp. 57–94, where Hartt uses a double-dotted minim as an equivalent to a dotted minim tied to a dotted crotchet (p. 64).

98 For the original capitalisation, see the edition of the texts by Leofranc Holford-Strevens in Appendix 2.

99 For the punctuation in the source, see the edition of the texts by Leofranc Holford-Strevens in Appendix 2.

100 As Margaret Bent suggests, the two ♯ placed before d′ and e′ (respectively, bb. 43 and 67) are impossible and must have been intended for f′ in both cases (private communication, 5 May 2020).

101 Private communication, 27 July 2015.

102 Private communication, 7 March 2020.

103 The Motets of the Manuscripts Chantilly ... and Modena, ed. Günther, p. xxvii.

Figure 0

Figure 1(a) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fol. 1r, O martir beatissime

Figure 1

Figure 1(b) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fols. 1v–2r, Multipliciter amando

Figure 2

Figure 1(c) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fols. 2v–3r, Gloria

Figure 3

Figure 1(d) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fols. 3v–4r, Ferre solet

Figure 4

Figure 1(e) Douai fragment 74.4/1, fol. 4v, Salus honor

Figure 5

Figure 2. Layout of the Douai fragment. Diagonal lines indicate staves that were prepared but not filled with music. Names of voice parts not present in the source are bracketed. Grey areas and dashed lines mark possible reconstructions of the missing folios. Roman numerals in (c) refer to the bipartite musical division of the Gloria

Figure 6

Table 1. The contents of the Douai fragment

Figure 7

Table 2. Musical division of the Gloria with corresponding text openings

Figure 8

Example 1 Hockets in the Gloria (b. 28)

Figure 9

Example 2 Rhythmic exchanges in the Gloria (bb. 24–7)

Figure 10

Example 3 Conjunct melodic motion in the Gloria (tenor, bb. 112–19)

Figure 11

Example 4 Melodic sequences in the Gloria (triplum, bb. 85–9)

Figure 12

Example 5 Goups of minims in the Gloria repeating intervals of a second (bb. 8–9)

Figure 13

Example 6 Triplum of Multipliciter amando with variants in the versions of Chantilly and Douai

Figure 14

Figure 3. Overall structure of Ferre solet

Figure 15

Figure 4. First canonic instruction in Ferre solet (Douai fragment, fol. 4r), end of stave 8

Figure 16

Figure 5. Second canonic instruction in Ferre solet (Douai fragment, fol. 4r), below stave 9

Figure 17

Figure 6. Tenor and contratenor syncopations in Ferre solet (talea 1, segment 1)

Figure 18

Figure 7. Tenor syncopations in Ferre solet (talea 1, segment 2)