I have not encountered an author who has written a treatise on the tons sung in the church (which the organist should know) who has been able to clear up the question of their ranges for those who wish to learn. That is why I have decided to write about them: how I have learned them, and how they are observed in the plainchant sung in churches; how organists should play them and end them for the convenience of the choir; and afterward, how fugues and subjects should be treated.

First of all, it should be known that those who composed the antiphons and the chants of psalmody employed only the diatonic [genus], which is one of the three genera of music, as you may read above. As a result, they used only the naturals of the keyboard and did not make use of the feintes or sharps, so as not to present so much difficulty to those who wished to learn to sing the plainchant. However, they did observe the B♭, and made it known that anything sung above la should be sung as fa, which is quite wrong if it is not marked. Anyone who sings music or plainchant is obliged to sing only what he sees written down. To do otherwise would be to compose, not to sing, as I could prove through numerous examples.

Man naturally delights in music. The more harmonious it is, the more it charms and gratifies the spirits it touches.

Our ancestors, having recognized that the human voice produced beautiful melodies, took pleasure in fashioning, for greater convenience, an instrument that could imitate the voice, or come as close to it as possible. All things considered, they could have taken up no instrument more appropriate than the harpsichord, though it was not yet known. But since they recognized the differences between tones by way of the voice, they began to create the keyboard, which is the most wonderful invention in the world and the means whereby music may be better comprehended. Music is based upon six monosyllables, namely ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la, and upon the interval defined by two of these syllables, mi and fa, which our ancestors placed just at the middle, as if to show that everything depends on these two.

They began to build a keyboard, that is, keys without feintes or sharps. As proof of this, the feintes and sharps have no proper [solmization] syllables of their own, only those that they borrow from the [natural] keys. For example, C sol, ut, fa [C♮] has a feinte which is called the feinte of C sol, ut, fa.

A philosopher used to tell his disciples that he was like the whetstone, which does not cut, but makes cutting possible; one might say the same thing about me. It could be said, ‘He wishes to teach, which he should not do, for there are others who are better prepared to undertake this than he, and who play the harpsichord far better than he’. Yet it does not follow that since I do not play as well [as they], that I therefore cannot clearly explain how to play correctly, or prescribe proper hand position, which is the foundation of good playing. For I am well aware that there are those who play better than I, but they are few in number, and they do not wish to trouble themselves with writing.

There are some masters who have their pupils place their hands in such a way that the wrist is lower than the hand, which is very bad, and properly speaking, a vice, because the hand no longer possesses strength. Others make one hold the wrist higher than the hand, which is a fault because the fingers then resemble sticks, straight and stiff. For the proper position of the hand, the wrist and the hand must be at the same height; in other words, the wrist must be at the same height as the large knuckle of the fingers.

Wishing to give pleasure to all those who love music, I have considered and thoroughly investigated everything related to all sounds that make harmony and are able to create concord and consonance to be judged by the sensibility of the ear. I have been able to find nothing save what has already been created, and having thought it over carefully, [I believe that] it is impossible to create anything new which is not derived from the four universal sounds. They are: first, the human voice; second, the sound of the organ, which comes from air and wind; third, the sound of strings, whether of steel, gold, silver, brass, or gut; and fourth, the sound of the hammer, which is the sound of bells and of the drum. Beyond these four it is impossible to discover any others.

It might be objected that birds possess quite pleasing and delightful voices, and even that some speak and sing songs quite well, which is true. But these songs must not be elevated to the category of music, given that birds do not and cannot create either harmony or consonance. To create harmony, there must be two or three voices that produce various intervals and sound in proper tune according to the judgment of the ear. To attempt to attribute this to birds would be crediting them with the use of reason.

The Traité de l'accord de l'espinette, first published in 1643 and issued in its second and final version in 1650, is the first French treatise devoted exclusively to keyboard performance practice. Jean Denis, the author of the Traité, was both a harpsichord maker of renown and the organist of a prominent Paris church. Thus, though he is not a ‘learned’ theorist in the traditional sense, Denis does qualify as an authority worthy of careful study.

Denis's Traité appeared during a time of transition in French theoretical writings, and was one of the harbingers of a new era. The more important French treatises of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries were the work of humanists, learned academicians who attempted to relate music to mathematics, philosophy, and the body of knowledge as a whole. They told much of theory, but far less of contemporary practice. Around the middle of the seventeenth century, however, detailed treatises written by musicians and composers began to appear, and these documents placed far more emphasis on practical matters than on the philosophy or aesthetics of music. Among their authors were Bénigne de Bacilly, Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers, Jean Millet, and Jean Denis.

With its comments on such fundamental matters as tuning, ornamentation, and the relationship of organ and choir in liturgy, Denis's treatise was clearly directed to practicing musicians rather than readers interested in the more speculative aspects of music theory.

Denis's Traité is of special interest because it offers one of the first detailed descriptions of functional keyboard temperament to have been written by a practitioner rather than a theorist. Among French sources, Guillaume Costeley had described a system identical to one-third comma meantone in 1570, but only in reference to an experimental nineteen-note octave. He provided no account of the actual tuning procedure and his ideas, as will be seen, were somewhat outside the mainstream of eventual developments in France and in Europe as a whole. Titelouze had made a brief reference to the necessity for keyboard temperament in the Preface to the Hymnes de l'Eglise (Paris, 1623), but he provided no details, instead referring his readers to the writings of earlier theorists (‘les bons auteurs’). Mersenne had discussed keyboard temperament in exhaustive detail in the Harmonie universelle, but there is little evidence in his writings to suggest that he had ever tuned a harpsichord himself. Indeed, his lack of direct familiarity with tuning procedure may well have led to the confusion that crept into his instructions for setting quarter-comma meantone temperament.

Through Denis's frequent references to his temperament system as ‘our’ tuning and ‘our familiar harmonic tuning’, we may infer that he clearly has in mind the system of common practice during his day. Unfortunately for modern readers eager for enlightenment and definitive answers, his description of the temperament he recommends with such enthusiasm is not precise.

The passages quoted from the Traité of Denis appeared in both the 1643 and 1650 editions. Minor typographical errors have been corrected without comment.

M. Mersenne, Nouvelles observations physiques et mathematiques (Paris, ca. 1638), p. 22.

Il est certain que les premiers Claviers n'ont eu que les 8 sons, & les 7 intervalles de la main harmonique de Guy Aretin, suivant les lettres A, B, C, D, E, F, G, a, dont j'ay parlé dans la premiere Prop. du 6 livre des Consonances, & souvent ailleurs; d'où il est arrivé que les feintes, ou dieses qui du depuis y ont esté ajoûtées, ont retenu le nom des marches principales, dont elles sont comme des dépendences, ou des supplémens: car la feinte éloignée d'un demiton mineur de C ut, est nommée la feinte de C sol ut, & ainsi des autres qui sont marquées du signe de diese dans la Musique pratique des notes, quoy que plusieurs marquent la feinte ou le fa d'E mi la, par le b mol, aussi bien que celle de b fa b mi, parce que ces 2 feintes ont les mesmes proprietez. Quant à la feinte de F ut, & G re, elles se marquent comme celle de C ut.

Since I am an instrument maker, I am obliged to receive all sorts of persons in my shop. Some come to see and hear my products, others come to buy, and thus I have the pleasure of seeing all sorts of people play, and of witnessing all the grimaces and postures that are affected. Many people are not careful about these things, and the masters who instruct cannot be observing very well, as their students must be doing as they are taught. I, however, note everything but tell them nothing. I used to speak freely to them, but I realized that some of them took it ill, so I have restrained myself from taking this great liberty, and I have decided to do my speaking on paper. Perhaps people will not be so readily offended by this as by the spoken word.

Sometimes a foppish young man will come to me to request a good harpsichord or spinet. Thinking to perform marvels, he is more careful to turn his head, to see whether I appreciate what he is playing, than he is to pay attention to what he is doing. And to make himself heard, he makes more noise beating time with his foot than does the instrument he is playing. Others behave much more comically, playing half of a trill in the air and the rest on the instrument.

TO MY LORD

THE MARQUIS OF MORTEMART, ADVISOR TO THE KING IN HIS PUBLIC AND PRIVATE COUNCILS,

MY LORD,

Among all the splendid talents which embellish your illustrious person and which you possess to perfection, I may say that music, both theoretical and practical, is the one you place above all others. It is for just cause that you should be called the father of this science, for it is instilled in you so deeply and you practice it so naturally that you are without equal. No one else can so skillfully unite his voice with the lute, or the theorbo, or whatever instrument it pleases you to take up, for you are marvelously well versed in the most melodious among them.

So many times have I had the honor of joining the company of your admirers when you were engaged in this agreeable diversion that I must declare, along with them, that I have never heard anything so sweet, nor so ravishing, and that in music, as in every other thing, your spirit is incomparable and your skill inimitable.

Jean Denis was clearly not a man of letters, and the language and syntax of the Traité de l'accord de l'espinette are frequently problematical, far more so than in other French musical treatises of the period. Sentences amble on at great length, often changing tense and subject along the way. Misprints, errors of grammar, and tangled constructions abound.

Topics in the Traité frequently change without the appearance of a new paragraph, resulting in blocks of text that sometimes extend unbroken for several pages. For the sake of clarity, these long units have been broken down into paragraphs of more reasonable length. Similarly, exceptionally long sentences have generally been broken down into shorter ones, without (it is hoped) compromising their sense. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected and translated without comment. Archaic punctuation has been modernized, and quotation marks and parentheses have been added where they are clearly called for by the context. Occasional editorial insertions in the text are enclosed in square brackets.

Throughout the entire translation, the word espinette has been translated as ‘harpsichord’ rather than ‘spinet’. In numerous French sources of the seventeenth century (such as the inventories of builders' shops), the terms espinette [spinet] and clavecin [harpsichord] are employed in contexts that clearly suggest a distinction between the two instruments. Nevertheless, the French also tended to use the word espinette in a general way to refer to all quilled instruments, much as the English employed the word ‘virginal’.

In the chapter entitled ‘Des huict Tons de l'Église’ (pp. 84–7), Denis turns his attention to certain problems related to the use of the organ in Gallican rite. These difficulties arose out of the practice of alternation between organ and choir during parts of the liturgy, a convention by then well established in France. The organ's interpolated sections, called versets, replaced sung plainsong portions of the Mass ordinary and proper, psalms, canticles, and hymns.

The first documentary evidence of ecclesiastical permission for alternation in France dates from 1510, although there are indications that alternatim practices of various kinds had become customary long before that. The first French keyboard versets to appear in print were contained in two volumes issued in 1530 and 1531 in Paris by Pierre Attaingnant, the Magnificat sur les huit tons avec Te deum laudamus et deux preludes and the Tablature pour le jeu dorgues espinetes et manicordions sur le plain chant de Cunctipotens et Kyrie fons. The versets in the Attaingnant volumes are characterized by technical simplicity and close correspondence to the plainsong melodies.

After the Attaingnant prints, there followed a gap of more than ninety years until the appearance of the next surviving printed collections of organ versets, the Hymnes de l'Eglise pour toucher sur l'orgue, avec les fugues et recherches sur leur plain-chant (Paris: Pierre Ballard, 1623) and Le Magnificat, ou cantique de la Vierge pour toucher sur l'orgue, suivant les huit tons de l'Eglise (Paris: Pierre Ballard, 1626) of Jehan Titelouze.