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opening page of Patricia's "Musings" Factoids All research is fortuitous, be it the archives and libraries, or be it in one's own notes and files, where interesting little facts have the annoying habit of going astray. I am so fond of some of these little facts, these "factoids," that I am creating a blog-like page especially for them. The most recently uncovered factoid will be placed at the TOP of the list. (September 17, 2008) Descriptions of canonization festivities at a Jesuit establishment For information on just how lavish the settings for Marc-Antoine Charpentier's compositions could be during the years he worked for the Jesuits of Paris (1688-1698), see Camille de Rochemonteix, Un collège de jésuites aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles, le collège Henri IV de La Flèche (Le Mans: Leguicheux, 1889), vol. 2, pp. 210-264. The first document quoted in extenso is a very detailed description of the festivities organized at the Jesuit collège of La Flèche in 1622 for the canonizations of Ignatius Loyola and Francis Xavier. The second document is a lengthy account of the canonization festivities organized for Francis Borgia in 1671. These narratives abound in details about decor, processions, pontifical masses, music.... (September 15, 2008) "Les goûts réunis" not only in the music of the late 1720's but in painting and cooking as well François Couperin's expression, les goûts réunis is generally understood in a rather narrow sense by musicologists and musicians. (Les Goûts-réunis is the title Couperin gave to some instrumental pieces published in 1724.) They generally consider the expression as denoting a blend of Italian and French styles in music: "... ce recueuil, qui scelle l'union des styles italien et français," as Denis Herlin described it in the Dictionnaire de la musique en France aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles (1992), ed. Marcelle Benoit, p. 324. The identical expression les goûts réunis is also found in a book printed just one decade after the publication Couperin's Les Goûts-réunis. But this time the expression was applied to food! The statement about les goûts réunis is cited in Florent Quellier's new book, La Table des Français, une histoire culturelle (XVe-début XIXe siècle (Rennes, 2007), p. 210. It is found in the preface to a cookbook, Les Dons de Comus ou les délices de la table (Paris, 1739) a preface generally attributed to two Jesuits, Pierre Brumoy and Guillaume-Hiacinthe Bougeant. Although one might wonder how two Reverend Fathers came to preface a cookbook, a quick glance at their biographies as preserved in any of the mid-eighteenth-century editions of Moréri's Dictionnaire reveals that both men were extremely knowledgeable about the arts in general, and that they were aware of the broader cultural and esthetic picture when they drew parallels between the arts (specifically, music and painting), the sciences, and cooking. This suggests that the expression has a far deeper and more pervasive meaning and extended beyond music and Couperin. The sentences quoted by Quellier read as follows. (I have highlighted key ideas or expressions in bold type): "On distingue aujourd'hui chez les gens du métier & chez les personnes qui se piquent d'avoir une bonne table, la Cuisine ancienne & la Cuisine moderne. La Cuisine ancienne est celle que les François ont mis en vogue par toute l'Europe, & qu'on suivoit generalement il n'y a pas encore vingt ans. La Cuisine moderne établie sur les fondements de l'ancienne, avec moins d'embarras, moins d'appareil, & avec autant de variété, est plus simple, plus propre, & peut-être encore plus sçavante. L'ancienne Cuisine étoit fort compliquée, & d'un détail extraordinaire. La Cuisine moderne est une espèce de Chymie. La science du Cuisinier consiste aujourd'hui à décomposer, à faire digérer & à mieux quintessencier des viandes, à tirer des sucs nourissans & legers, à les mêler & les confondre ensemble, de façon que rien ne domine & que tout se fasse sentir; enfin â leur donner cette union que les Peintres donnent aux couleurs, & à les rendre si homogènes, que de leurs différentes saveurs il ne résulte qu'un goût fin & piquant, & si j'ose dire, une harmonie de tous les goûts réunis ensemble." Try a simple experiment. Change a few key words in this quotation, replacing "cuisine" with "musique"; "ancienne" with "pre-1715 or thereabouts" (that is, the music of Lully and his contemporaries and followers); "moderne" with "post-1715 or thereabouts" (as exemplified by the music of Couperin and Rameau). Does this revised version not suggest that the quest for "les goûts réunis" in French music may have alluded to a blend of "old" and "new" French musical styles, in addition to the more-talked-about blend of French and Italian forms? In our revised version of the Jesuits' statement, the aim of this blending would be to produce a musical sound where the sharply contrasting tonal colors of the second half of the seventeenth century one thinks immediately of the works of "ancient" painters such as Mignard, Le Brun, Bourdon, La Hyre survive, but where they have been softened, blurred and pastellized, in the manner of "modern" painters such as Watteau, Fragonard, Boucher. Indeed, with a few different changes in vocabulary, so that art terms replace cooking terms, the Jesuits' statement could be applied not only to French music from circa 1665 and into the 1720's, but also to the evolution of French paintings. Several decades ago Jean-Louis Flandrin (Histoire de la vie privée, ed. Ariès and Duby, paperback edition Paris: Seuil, vol. 3, p. 293) quoted other lines from the Reverend Fathers' preface. I quote these lines here, because they help us better to understand the context in which the expression les goûts réunis was used: "Les Italiens ont poli toute l'Europe, & ce sont eux, sans contredit, qui nous ont appris à manger [...]. Il y a cependant plus de deux siècles qu'on connoît la bonne cuisine en France, mais on peut assurer sans prévention qu'elle n'a jamais été si délicate, & qu'on n'a point encore travaillé ni si proprement ni d'un goût si fin [pp. xii-xiii]. " La Cuisine, comme tous les autres Arts inventés pour le besoin ou pour le plaisir, s'est perfectionnée avec le génie des peuples, & elle est devenue plus délicate à mesure qu'ils se sont polis [...]. Les progrés de la cuisine [...] ont suivi parmi les Nations civilisées les progrés de tous les autres arts" [p. 1] I wish I could quote the entire discussion, but no copy of the first edition of Les Dons de Comus is available to me; and that definitely is the edition that should be consulted. The version available online at Gallica2.bnf.fr is the second edition (1758), where an entirely new treatise on the history of food replaced Bourgeant and Brumoy's original preface. (May 12, 2008) Some doubts about paper G/26 in cahier 22 It is odd to find 6 half-sheets in a cahier of the Mélanges. In fact, I am beginning to wonder whether cahier 22 contains 3 different types of paper G, and whether paper G/26 is really a "red flag." See my brief Musing on paper G/26 versus paper G/82 in that cahier. (April 4, 2008) More on "oi" and how it was pronounced by non-rustics, circa 1680. For several years now, I have been protesting the pronunciation of the dipthongue oi that has been adopted by a number of Baroque ensembles. (See my Musings: How was the vowel-sound 'OI' pronounced in 17th-century France?; and "La Musique Françoise", plus my newest bit of evidence: Scipion Dupleix and the pronunciation of "OI," 1651) I return to the attack, because in January 2008 I copied out a collection of letters written in the fall of 1680 by two Highnesses (see A trip through Champagne, 1680.) One Highness was the Abbess of Montmartre, the other was her sister, the Duchess of Guise. Throughout the Abbess's letters I caught her writing -ais -ait, and so forth, instead of the more common -ois, -oit. In other words, she pronounced avoit as if it were written avait using the very same vowel she used when saying the name of the Guise estate she was visiting: Marchais. In my transcription of this correspondence, I have highlighted in bold green type all the instances where she either uses an e (which, of course, has the same sound as -ais, or -ait), or else writes ai instead of the more common oi. She, of course, uses ai elsewhere to convey the phonetic sound "eh." For example, just as we do today, she writes "souhait, plaît, fais, and plaisir." In other instances, instead of ai or oi, she uses the letter e. In short, in her spelling of the sound "eh," the Abbess was well over a century in advance: not until the Revolution did -oi yield to -ai in published works and in most correspondence. Some of these very revealing spellings are: serais, when most people in her day wrote serois; avet for avois; estet for estoit; auret for auroit; and j'yrais for j'irois. Especially interesting is fesblesse in lieu of foiblesse and crayés, for croyez. The latter phonetic rendering parallels the preferred pronunciation of avoine as avène. There are fewer instances of the phonetic rendering "ai" in the letters of the Duchess of Guise, for whom spelling was always a challenge. But she too offers us a few instructive insights into the pronunciation that Lully and all his contemporaries who hoped to have a work performed at court or before a high noble of her standing would have envisaged for their vocal music. For example, instead of reconnoissance she wrote reconnessance: that is, she pronounced reconnaissance as we do today. As for the third correspondent, M. Du Bois, a future member of the French Academy, although he consistently wrote -oi, it would be plain obstinacy for us to imagine that he would have embarrassed Their Highnesses, and himself, by pronouncing that vowel "oueh" or "ouah." PS: Orest has been working on the death inventory of Cardinal Richelieu, It's clear that notaries in the early 1640s also pronounced many oi's as "E": for example, this particular notary, referring to the weight of an item, spelled pesant as "poisant"!! I would infer from this that he pronounced poids as "pouwa," or "pouwhe", more or less as we do today; but that he knew when to treat the oi as an E: poisant/pesant. In short, he wrote two very different sounds in the very same way. As one of the Musings at the top of this factoid reveals, the notary's contemporaries spelled the woman's name Françoise but pronounced it "Fransouwaze," as we do today; but when talking about a Frenchwoman, a "Française" (which almost everyone in those days spelled "Françoise," just like the christening name) they said "Franceze," as they do today. (March 28, 2008) The handwriting on cahier 1, fol. 1 recto of the Mélanges: In her recent article on Charpentier's handwriting and what it suggests about chronology (see my Musing on the subject), Jane Gosine convincingly suggested that this is a copyist's hand. I wondered if this hand, found only on the recto of cahier 1, fol. 1, could be the hand of Monsieur Du Bois, the founder and director of the Guise Music. While in Paris in January, I checked Du Bois' handwriting BnF, ms. fr. 17052: the handwriting of the text set to music on fol. 1 does not resemble his handwriting. It clearly was someone other than Du Bois who copied out folio 1 recto of cahier 1 (February 1, 2008) April 24, 1691: Marc-Antoine Charpentier, "me de musique du Colege de Louis le Grand," signs a notarial act involving the organ at the Jesuit school Our knowledge of Marc-Antoine Charpentier's career is broadened by Érik Kocevar's discovery of a notarial act signed by the composer. See Érik Kocevar's article, "L'orgue du collège Louis-le-Grand au XVIIe siècle à la lumière d'un marché d'orgues inédit," in the latest issue of Recherches sur la musique française classique, 31 (2004-2007), pp. 165-80. I will say nothing here about the most momentous facet of this precious document: it provides musicologists with a detailed description of the organ and all its stops! During the 1680's and 1690's there were, so to speak, actually two organs at Louis-le-Grand: there was the organ that was available early in Marc-Antoine Charpentier's tenure there, and that was reworked starting in February 1689; and there was the perfected organ that was "received" by Charpentier, by the college organist Louis Marchand, and by the Jesuit fathers on April 21, 1691. Between the two organs, there was a hiatus of almost two years, while the instrument was being reworked. Organ music during those two years is therefore unlikely at Louis-le-Grand, unless we are willing to argue that the reverend fathers rented a "cabinet" instrument to replace the dismantled organ. (This two-year hiatus suggests that unless Marchand was already serving as organist for the College prior to February 1689 and was kept on the payroll even though he had no work to do, his nomination probably dates from early 1691.) Érik Kocevar quotes excerpts from two nineteenth-century accounts of how Louis Marchand came to be appointed: these accounts clearly are based on the very same source as Émond's 1845 narrative of the same event, one of my Fugitive Pieces! But what might that source be? A few details in the notarial act caught my attention, for what they tell us about Charpentier. My musings about these details follow:
(September 20, 2007) Charpentier's funeral music of 1672-1674 I have repeatedly referred to the numerous events at which one or another of Marc-Antoine Charpentier's funereal compositions in cahiers 3, 4 and 5 could have been performed. In my notes I just came upon the following details about expenditures for the Bout de l'an of Marguerite de Lorraine (Mme de Guise's mother), celebrated at Saint-Denis on May 6, 1673: "A Pierre Le Blanc, peintre, pour armoiries par luy fournies pour les deux services qui ont esté célébré pour deffuncte Madame à Saint Denis et à Montmartre," 1000 livres, paid by Mme de Guise on May 25, 1674. "A Pierre Robert, menuisier," for a wooden coffin.... "A Sr de Mouhers, brodeur, pour 4 grandes armes d'une aulne de hault en broderie d'or et d'argent appliquées sur le poisle de la couronne à Saint Denis..." 200 livres To the juré crieur who had supervised the pompe funèbre, 4000 livres In other words, two separate Bout de l'an services were held for the late Madame in May 1673. As in 1672 (when Madame was buried at Saint-Denis and her heart was buried at Montmartre), in May 1673 there was a memorial service for her at Saint-Denis, and there was another memorial service at the Abbey of Montmartre, where Madame's heart reposed. (According to the same document, the funeral services celebrated in 1672 had cost Mme de Guise a total of 19,044 livres, 14 sols, 4 deniers.) Source: Arsenal, ms. 6525, fol. 3 (September 15, 2007) Battles over church benches Mlle de Guise's war over a church bench was scarcely a example of such a dispute. I have two similar tales in my files. Each involves an old seigneurial family that is entitled to a special bench in a church, and whose prerogatives are challenged by someone eager to gain control of this sign of prestige. The first battle was waged not very far from Panat, at a small town called Sénergues. For fifty years (1687-1728) the Guirard de Monternal family, lords of Sénergues, fought with the Madrières family and once even came to blows over a church bench. As feudal lords of Sénergues and holding the right to wield "la haute justice," the Guirards were entitled to a bench (banc) in the choir of the parish church. (Diderot's Encyclopédie confirms that a "banc" is a "terme de jurisprudence: dans le choeur [d'une église] est une des droits honorifiques qui appartiennent ... au seigneur haut justicier dans la haute justice duquel elle est située.") Protestants for close to a century, the Guirard's became Catholics in 1687 after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, only to discover that in the mid-1650s the wealthy Madrières had obtained permission to place a bench in their chapel just to the left of the high altar. One bench led to another, so to speak, and by 1687 the Madrières were sitting in the prestigious old seigneurial bench that the Guirards had once occupied. In fact, since they were far wealthier than the Guirards, the Madrières were laying claim to being "co-seigneurs" of the town. From 1687 until the mid-1690s, the younger males of the two families periodically fought over the bench both legally and physically. Indeed, a young Guirard was exiled for having profaned the church by wounding his rival during a dispute over the bench. The war continued and by 1711 the Madrières were trying to purchase the seigneurie of Sénergues from the indebted Guirards ― who were rescued by a friend at the last moment. In 1727 the final skirmish took place, and it
very much resembled the battle waged at Guise a half century earlier. The
Guirards built a new seigneurial bench, a very tall seigneurial bench, a very
wide seigneurial bench. And they placed it in the choir, just where it would
entirely block the Madrières' view of the mass as they sat on their
bench inside their chapel. Monsieur Madrières protested that the church
did not belong to the Guirard family and that they should be ordered to "ôter le
nouveau banc et de reprendre l'ancien banc..." Guirard replied with a notarized
statement by the parish priest to the effect that "le banc n'empêche en aucune
manière le service divin ni même n'incommode nullement pour donner la Sainte
Communion aux fidèles ... qu'au contraire le banc affermit le balustre qui
aurait été plusieurs fois renversé s'il n'était soutenu par le nouveau banc."
Guirard also presented documents proving that the family had been entitled to
this bench since 1419, when it first was granted the rights to exercise
justice. Like a deus ex machina, the abbot of Conques finally
stepped in and declared that the Guirards' bench could remain where it was, but
that the back would have to be lowered, "pour ne pas porter incommodité à ceux
qui prendront place sur le banc de la chapelle Saint-Antoine," which belonged to
the Mazières. "The two clashed over the presence of the arms
of Hingant in a parish church. Du Brueil was seen dragging the bench that bore
Hingant's arms out of the church. He then took the bench to the market square
where he proceeded to smash it to smithereens. This was an open challenge to
Hingant that sought to cause him 'grand deshonneur, injure et scandalle.' By
choosing to destroy the bench on the market square, du Brueil was purposefully
making the affair as public as possible. Such defiance flew in the face of the
considerable social gulf that separated the two protagonists, but was made
possible by the protection that the count afforded du Brueil. At a moment of
heightened tension between the Lavals and Rohans, the affinities of both
families sought to emulate the rivalry of their patrons. Indeed, du Brueil might
even have been encouraged in his actions by the count who thus showed his power
and the protection he could give his followers." (April 5, 2007) The "Marquis de Sablé" at Monsieur de Riants' opera: I am always eager to correct any errors I may have made. In my presentation of Charpentier's opera for Monsieur Riants' and his friends, I identified the "marquis de Sablé" as a descendent of Urbain de Laval, a Leaguer. Over the years I have, however, kept in mind the fact that the Laval de Sablé family trees I consulted did not show a "marquis" contemporary with Riants. Just the other day, when going through old notes taken at the Minutier Central, I encountered a more plausible candidate, whom I present here: On July 8, 1671 some seven years before the performance at Riants' residence Philippe Goibaut du Bois, Mlle de Guise's chapel master, was reimbursed for 28,422 livres he had loaned to the princess the previous year so that she could pay some of her late brother's debts. She got some the cash from the "Marquis de Sablé"! Specifically, from: Louis François Servient [read: Servien], chevalier, marquis de Sablé, and from his brother Augustin Servien, abbé de Saint-Jouin. They were the children of the late Abel Servien, one of Louis XIII's ministers and surintendant des finances. (AN, MC, XCIX, 248, quittance) This type of loan is very strong of a link of trust or of "clientage" existed between the Serviens and the princess. I do not, however, know the nature of that link, or when it began. However, the Serviens do not appear to have asked for repayment during Mlle de Guise's lifetime. At any rate, although I went through all the acts the princess signed before that notary, I found none involving the Servien brothers. In short, when Charpentier's opera was performed for Riants in February 1678, Mlle de Guise was heavily indebted to Louis-François Servien, "Marquis de Sablé," How aware of this debt the readers of the Mercure galant might have been is a matter for conjecture. (February 23, 2007) A description of the staircase at the château of Aubais, and of the library for which Pierre Prion copied out so many manuscripts. (For our transcription of the Manuscrit in which Prion recounts his adventures, see our Présentation of the manuscript.) From Louis Moréri, Le Grand Dictionnaire, ed. of Paris, 1743. "Aubais, château du Languedoc dans le Diocése de Nîmes, à quatre lieuës de cette ville, & à pareille distance de celle de Montpellier. L'on y voit un escalier très hardi, & qui mérite que nous en fassions au moins une briéve description. La cage de cet escalier a six toises & demie de long, sur cinq & demie de large, & les murailles onze toises d'élevation, & cinq piez d'épaisseur. On a pratiqué dans cette épaisseur deux escaliers our monter au dôme. On monte par cinq rampes qui sont toutes doubles, à la réserve de celle du milieu. Si on arrive par la grande avenue, on me monte que deux rampes de seize marches, parce que l'escalier est construit sur un terrain haut & bas. Les marches, au nombre de quatre-vingt-huit, quoiqu'il n'en faille monter que trente-sept, ont sept piez de longueur. Le pallier, par où l'on communique aux deux appartemens d'enhaut, a cinq toises & demie de long sur trois & demie de large, & sa voûte n'a presque point de cintre. On ne sauroit voir rien de plus hardi que cette platebande. A côté de l'Escalier, il y a deux salles dont les voûtes de pierre de taille sont extraordinairement plates, & d'une grande beauté. Gabriel Dardaillon, natif de Nîmes, mort en 1693, fut l'Architecte de cet escalier, & l'acheva au mois de septembre 1685. On trouve encore dans le château d'Aubais une Bibliothéque, qui n'est pas seulement considérable par un très grand nombre de volumes concernant l'Histoire & les Belles-Lettres, mais encore par beaucoup d'Editions fort rares & fort belles, par des reliures magnifiques, & par quantité de Manuscrits curieux sur l'Histoire de France & sur la Géographie. Ce château appartient depuis plus d'un siécle à la Maison de Baschi, qui a produit plusieurs personnes connues dans l'Histoire." The article concludes with a genealogy of the Baschis. Return to our Présentation of Prion's Manuscrit (December 5, 2006) Pietro Guerrini’s visits to the Hôtel de Guise in 1685 In several of my writings I have alluded to the information I found in Florence about Guerrini’s visit to Paris, and particularly his encounters with Mlle de Guise and Mme de Guise. I was speechless when I first read ugh this narrative with its many illustrations of technology; and I still en more speechless when I learned that archivists at the Achivio di Stato of Florence were unaware of its existence! I am pleased to say that this wonderful document has been edited by Francesco Martelli and published by Leo S. Olschki (Florence, 2005) I’ll quote here the passages to which I referred in my writings. Thanks to this publication scholars can put them in the broader tableau of Paris and the royal court in 1685 On November 8, 1684, Guerrini recounted his failed attempt to pay his formal respects to Madame de Guise, the sister of his master’s estranged wife, at the Luxembourg Palace: Fui ieri per inchinarmi all’Altezza di madama di Ghisa, ma elle mi fece risposta che non era abbigliata et che voleva ch’io vedesse il suo palazzo in stato più proprio, mentre ora vi fa travagliare per abbellirlo e seguito che sarà mi farà saper il gioro che mi vol veder, per sentir (dice ella) quello me no pare. Io senz’altro saprò lodare e approvare, ma le gran bestialità che qua si vedono, se lì ne saranno non le posso tacere. Credo ora vostra signoria illustrissima libera del suo fastidioso trattenimento et potrà con franchezza frequentar la corte. (I, p. 281) Note: the editor confused Mme de Guise and Mlle de Guise, note 311. On March 12, 1685, Guerrini alluded to his visits to Mademoiselle de Guise at the Hôtel de Guise: Non si può poi far di meno di non affezionare a questa città che sempre si provano passatempi per allettar le persone. Ora c’è di più che vado qualche volta la settimana a passar un’ora o due da Madamiselle di Ghisa, dove vi è musica e strumenti et conversazione insomma galante et studiosa et quel molto che la medesima Altezza à gran satisfazione che ci troviamo là. (I, p. 312) Guerrini also frequently saw Sir Samuel Morland (engineer, spy, and amateur musician), who at the time was in close contact young Sébastien de Brossard. This was just about the time when Brossard was making friends with Etienne Loulié, the Guise musician! (November 6, 2006) Two factoids about services at the Jesuit church of Saint-Louis in August 1673, kindly copied out for me by Jérôme de La Gorce From the Gazette d'Amsterdam of Tuesday, August 15, 1673 (BnF, G. 4277): De Paris, le 8 Aoust Les jours passés les Reverents Pères de la Société donnèrent au Peuple de Paris le divertissement des violons, avec l'apparence d'une Tragedie, car il y avoit un combat de coqs et de grenouilles; et il se fit à leur porte une merveilleuse distribution de coups de canne par l'ordre et la libéralité d'un bon Pere qu'ils avoient posté à leur Tourniquet, où il en fit donner avec profusion au Gouverneur des enfans de Monsr. le Garde des sceaux. On dit que y'a esté en reconnaissance du zèle qu'il avoit témoigné l'année passée à les délivrer de ces Messieurs qui leur estoient peut-estre à charge dans leur Collège, et qui est digne d'estre inséré dans la Morale Pratique. and, from that same publication, for Thursday, August 31, 1673: De Paris, le 25 août Hier il y eut grand bruit dans l'Eglise des Reverens Peres de la Société de la rue S. Antoine, au sujet de quelques places que des personnes de mérite y avoient prises pour leur argent [?], parce que des Messieurs de plus haute qualité voulant s'y placer, un du Couvent en vouloit faire sortir les autres, ce qui faillit troubler toute leur feste. Was the public attracted to either, or both event by Marc-Antoine Charpentier's music? Apparently not: neither series of his notebooks for that year contains a work for the Assumption, or a work for the Feast of Saint Louis. (November 5, 2006) Pierre Perrin's wedding, 1653 From a copy of the parish records of the church of Saint-André-des-Arts, January 27, 1653 (BnF, ms. fr. 32589, p. 484): Pierre Perrin, "éc[uyer], conseiller du Roy et me d'hotel ordinaire du Roy et de S.A.R." [Gaston d'Orléans] et "Elisabeth Grisson, widow of Pierre Bizet, conseiller du Roy en sa cour du Parlement, de la paroisse de St Sulpice. Led. mariage fait en lad. église par l'ordre de Mr l'official de [Paris] qui a dispensé de la publication des bans et des fiancailles en presence de Paris de la Vigne, bourgeois de Paris; Jean Jacqueteau, bourgeois de Paris; Claude Collinet, marchand de vin à Paris. Signé Paris de la Vigne, J. Jacquetot, Cl. Collinet. Although he has been called "l'Abbé Perrin," Pierre Perrin clearly was not a cleric. And at the time of his marriage he was not Gaston's introducteur des ambassadeurs, but his maître d'hôtel. At the time of Gaston's death in February 1660, Perrin was his introducteur and was owed 9,500 livres in wages (Arsenal, ms. 4213, fol. 12). (November 5, 2006) A letter of recommendation by Marguerite de Lorraine, Duchess of Orléans, 1657 I found this autograph letter in the Library of the University of Amsterdam, 35 AX: Mon cousin, J'ay une priere à vous vaire en faveur de l'Abbé Boyer l'un de mes aumosniers lequel m'oblige par son affection et ses services assidus d'avoir soin de ses interestz mais ce n'est pas tant par cette consideration que je pretens vous le recommander comme par son propre merite et sa pieté. Il desire vous avoir l'obligation d'une pension de deux ou trois mille livres sur telz benefices qu'il vous plairra. Le conte de Bury que je charge de cette lettre vous dira qu'une pareille grace ne scauroit estre mieux employée et pour moy je vous assuray que je me sentiray vostre obligée. Je vous faites connoistre à ce mien domestique que vous considerez la priere que je vous en fait. Mon Cousin, vostre tres affectionnée cousine Marguerite de Lorraine. A Blois ce 4 fevrier 1657 As great nobles tended to do, Madame expresses her "prayer" through a householder. I had this letter in mind whenever I pondered about how the sort of "prayers" the Guises might have written about Marc-Antoine Charpentier perhaps as early as his journey to Italy, and above all during the months leading up to Mlle de Guise's death in March 1688. (November 5,2006) The Messe Rouge at the Parlement of Paris and the "Longue Offrandes" at the masses for St. Nicolas Excerpts from "Explication des Cérémonies qui se font tous les ans le 6 Décembre dans la Chapelle de S. Nicolas, en la Grand'Salle du Palais de Paris," in my copy of a stray volume of the anonymous Variétés historiques, physiques et littéraires, ou Recherches d'un sçavant, Paris, 1752, pp. 45-86: After a disastrous fire at the Palais in 1618, which virtually ruined the "salle des procureurs," that is, the Grand'Salle, the Community of the Procureurs rebuilt their chapel of St. Nicolas, so that it would "servir tant pour l'Office du lendemain de S. Marint: que pour les deux Fêtes de S. Nicolas, & pour y célébrer deux Messes tous les jours de Palais." C'est dans cette Chapelle que la Communauté des Procureurs fait dire le lendemain de S. Martin, une Messe solemnelle du S. Esprit pour l'ouverture du Parlement: cette Messe est nommé communément la Messe Rouge parce que Mrs. du Parlement y assistent en Robes rouges. M. le Premier Président fait, en allant à l'Offrande, un grand nombre de révérences à l'Autel[,] au Clergé, à sa Compagnie, & en fait autant pour revenir à sa place, les encensemens se font dans le même ordre que ces révérences. Cette Messe est ordinairement célébrée par un Evêque, lequel a ce jour-là séance & voix délibérative en la Grand-Chambre, mais il ne peut pas y faire porter la Croix devant lui, quand même ce seroit l'Evêque Diocesain. Après la Messe, le Parlement s'assemble en la Grand'Chambre, on lit les anciens réglemens concernant la discipline du Palais; ensuite M. le Premier Président reçoit le serment des Avocate & Procureurs; après quoi la Communauté des Procureurs fait distribuer auprès du Greffe, des bougies à chacun de ceux qui ont prêté le serment. ... Les Avocats & et Procureurs ont établi une Confrairie commune en la Chapelle de S. Nicolas. Le Bâtonnier des Avocats, que l'on élit tous les ans le 9 May, jour de la S. Nicolas d'Eté, est le Chef de cette Confrairie, & c'est par cette raison que les Procureurs de Communauté donnent leurs voix pour son élection; le nom de Bâtonnier qu'on lui donne, vient de ce qu'il portoit autrefois le Bâton de la Confrairie, où est l'Image de S. Nicolas. ... La veille de S. Nicolas, la Communauté des Procureurs fait chanter les Vêpres & l'Office du Saint, en la Chapelle de la Grand'Salle; le lendemain, elle fit dire une grande Messe, qui est chantée par la Musique de la Sainte Chapelle; le Bâton de la Confrairie est posé au-devant du Lutrin, avec deux Torches de cire allumées & placées aux deux côtés. Le Bâtonnier des Avocats est assis du côté de l'Evangile, sur un banc separé, à la tête des quatre Procureurs de Communauté, du Greffier & des six Procureurs, qui quêtent ctte année-là pour la Chapelle. Du même côté, sur un banc plus avancé, sont les anciens Bâtonniers & anciens Avocats. Sur un autre banc, du côté de l'Epitre, sont assis les anciens Procureurs de Communauté & autres anciens Procureurs, en robe & en bonnet. Le Bâtonnier des Avocats va le premier à l'Offrande, & fait en y allant & en revenant 36 révérences à l'imitation de celles que fait M. le premier Président à la Messe Rouge; sçavoir, d'abord à l'Autel, ensuite au Bâton de S. Nicolas & au Clergé, qui est à l'entour, aux anciens Bâtonniers, aux Procureurs de Communauté[,] aux anciens Procureurs de Communauté, & aux six Receveurs entrans. Les encensemens se font dans le même ordre, tant à cette Messes qu'aux autre Messes & Services qui se disent dans cette Chapelle; on donne trois coups d'encensoir devant le Bâtonnier. Les anciens Bâtonniers & autres anciens, vont aussi à l'offrande, chacun à leur rang; & apres eux les Procureurs de Communauté & autres anciens Procureurs, & les six Aspirans. Pendant la Messe le Bâtonnier fait distribuer des bougies au Clergé, aux Avocats & aux Procureurs; c'est un ancien usage, qui a, sans doute, été instituté à l'instar de ce qui se pratique dans la plûpart des Confrairies, où chaque Confrere porte un cierge dans les Processions & autres Cérémonies. Cette distribution & celle qui se fait après la Messe rouge, peuvent aussi avoir été institutées dans un tems où ces Messes se disoient plus matin & où on avoit besoin de bougies pour s'y éclairer. La Communauté des Procureurs donne après la Messe un grand repas au Bâtonnier, à l'Ex-Bâtonnier, à l'Avocat de la Communauté, aux quatre Procureurs de Communauté, au Greffier & aux anciens Procureurs de Communauté. ... Le Parlement, les Avocats & les Procureurs, font aussi faire d'autres services dans la Chapelle de S. Nicolas, selon les événemens publics. A mass similar to the Messe Rouge and to the masses for St. Nicolas was also held on May 9, "jour de la Translation de S. Nicolas" except that on that day the Bâtonnier distributed bouquets instead of candles. A new bâtonnier was elected each year: he immediately contributed 1000 livres for the Community's alms, and he was expected to furnish all the wax and other supplies for the two feasts of St. Nicolas. The estimated cost for wax, bouquets, and so forth was 800 livres, which he paid in advance, immediately after his election. The Messe Rouge was jokingly called the ballet des écrivisses, "crayfish ballet." It was for this event that Marc-Antoine Charpentier wrote his Jugement de Salomon. On the other hand, his music "pour une longue Offrande" must have been intended for one of the masses honoring St. Nicolas. And a related factoid: A description of the opening of Parlement, 1661 From a letter to Chancellor Pierre Séguier written by Ballesdans, BnF, fonds Saint-Germain français 709, published as an appendix to Réné Kerviler, Le Chancelier Pierre Séguier, second edition (Paris, 1875), pp. 684-85: "Ce 13 novembre 1661 ... Messieurs du Parlement sont entrés au palais [de justice] le lendemain de la Saint-Martin, comme c'est l'ordinaire, et ... la messe du Saint-Esprit, dont la descente est si nécessaire dans l'esprit des juges, fut célébrée par Monseigneur l'évêque d'Amiens, qui s'acquitta aussi dignement de cette cérémonie que du compliment qu'il fict à l'assemblée pour la remercier de l'honneur qu'il avoit receu, et de celuy qu'il recepvoit encore de se voir sur les fleurs de lys. La cour n'estoit pas nombreuse, et Monsieur de Bailleul y fut le seul président au mortier qui accompagna l'illustre chef de cette compagnie, comme Monsieur Paris fut le seul maistre des requestes qui y garda son rang. Monsieur Ferrand, sur l'esprit et sur le visage duquel les années n'ont point eu de prise jusques icy, fit paroistre sa profonde piété aux yeux de toute l'assistance, ayant demeuré à genoux, un livre et ses deux bougies à la main, durant toute la messe, avec tant de dévotion, que nous en fusmes merveilleusement édifiez. Ce bon homme pria Dieu si long temps et avec tant d'activité, que je me suis imaginé qu'il avoit dit son office de la Vierge pour les trois temps de l'année, affin d'en estre quitte et de vacquer plus librement aux affaires des parties, ce qui est une espèce de priéres qui pénètre les cieux quelquefois mieux que les autres. Ce qui divertit merveilleusement et sans perdre le respect qu'on doibt au plus sainct de nos mystères, ce fut les deux procureurs de communauté qui présentèrent les bougies. Ces bonnes gens estoient coiffés de chascun une calotte à oreilles garnie de cheveux à l'antique, qui les faisoient remarquer pour estre agez tout au moins de quatre-vingt-dix ans. mais ce qui fit paroistre encore davantage leur belle vieillesse, ce fut quand, après avoir marché à petit pas, le dos presque contre terre, ils commencèrent de faire des révérences selon la qualité des personnes. Je vis l'heure qu'au lieu de révérences, ils alloient baiser les pieds de la cour, en danger de se casser le nez. Car, ou ces Messieurs ont oublié les leçons de leur premiers maistres à dancer, ou ils n'en on jamais eu, quoy qu'on dit assez haut que c'estoient des compagnons et qu'ils courroient encore assez bien après une boulle avec leurs amis, en donnant quelquefois du genouil pour la faire advancer. ... The mass was the annual "Messe Rouge" organized for the opening of the Parlement of Paris by the procureurs and for which the master of the Sainte-Chapelle and his singers generally provided the music. The endless "bows" made by the two senior procureurs are described at greater length in the companion "factoid." It is interesting to note that this pompous service made even longer by the music was not widely attended, (Brenet's Sainte-Chapelle does not contain an allusion to their participation in the mass that year; but then, the event was rarely mentioned in the archives of the chapel.) The pious parlementaire Ferrand (Michel II?) was a friend of the Charpentier family and had recently helped Etiennette Charpentier set up her linen business. President de Bailleul was also a family friend: in 1662 his mother and his daughter would sign Elisabeth Charpentier's wedding contract. As for Pierre Séguier, he was a protector of several Charpentier cousins. Through his family and through friends who came to visit his ailing father, did a similar account reached the ears of young Marc-Antoine Charpentier? If so, he could scarcely have imagined that he would one day compose for that event! (October 19. 2006) La Grande Mademoiselle on a single (or widowed) woman's options: In 1670, when the maiden princess, age forty-three, was setting her sights on M. de Lauzun, she discussed with him the options available to a single woman of her high estate. Lauzun summarized her situation thusly: Je trouve que vous avez raison de prendre un parti, rien au monde n'étant si ridicule, de quelque qualité que l'on soit, que de voir une fille de quarante ans, habillée dans les plaisirs, dans le monde, comme une de quinze qui ne songe à rien. Quand l'on est à cet âge, il faut ou se faire religieuse ou dévote ou habillée, modestement, n'aller à rien. A cause de votre qualité, vous pourriez une fois, pour faire voir votre cour, aller à un Opéra, encore ne faudroit-il pas que ce fût tout le temps, et vous en faire bien prier; ne témoigner pas être aise ni y prendre plaisir, ne louer rien, par l'inapplication que vous y auriez; aller à vêpres, au sermon, au salut, aux assemblées des pauvres, aux hôpitaux, ne s'acquitter des devoirs envers la reine, où votre qualité vous oblige, qu'en pareilles occasions, ou bien vous marier; car l'étant, à tous les âges on va partout; on est habillée comme les autres, pour plaire à son mari. On va aux plaisirs, parce qu'il veut que l'on fasse comme les autres ...." (Mémoires, ed. Chéruel, IV, p. 100) This wonderful statement inevitably proved too long to tuck into an article or a chapter of my Portraits! Yet it shaped much of what I have said over the past twenty years, about the options open to Mlle de Guise and Mme de Guise. When Mlle de Guise offered her protection to Marc-Antoine Charpentier she was past fifty and, as far as the public knew, she was a spinster princess. If she entertained lavishly or went to court, it was as "regent" for her ward and nephew, Louis-Joseph Duke of Guise. After his death in 1671, she eschewed stylish clothing, courtly events, balls and evenings at the Opera and, acting her age and behaving according to the conventions appropriate for a maiden lady, she devoted herself to pious activities. We don't know much about any charitable activities she may have become involved in, but from Charpentier's manuscripts we know that she indeed "went to vespers, to sermons and to salut." As for Mme de Guise, she was only in her twenties when she was widowed in 1671. Though her hopes of remarriage were dashed, she did not immediately give up court festivities. It was her young son's death in 1675 that turned her to devotion: the sources tell us that she not only assiduously attended vespers, saluts and sermons, but she also was a central figure in the sort of activities described by Lauzun: "assemblies of the committees for the poor, hospitals," and "her duties toward the Queen" who was her very close friend. By 1687, when Charpentier was preparing to leave the Hôtel de Guise for the Jesuits, Mme de Guise had totally renounced the amusements of the "world" and was vainly hoping that Louis XIV would allow her to become a Carmelite. (October 15, 2006) On the devout seigneur: I was struck by the following passage from the Duc de Luynes' Instruction pour les seigneurs (1658), quoted by J.-L. Quantin, "Port-Royal et la haute noblesse: sur le cas du duc de Luynes (1620-1690)," Le second ordre: l'idéal nobiliaire, ed. C. Grell and A. Ramière de Fortanier (Paris, 1999), p. 121: Dans les Eglises où personne ne luy dispute la préeminence, il doit [le seigneur] bien prendre garde de n'affecter jamais la premiere place, ny les autres honneurs qu'on luy rend, par un esprit de vanité, mais user seulement de ces avantages pour attirer de ses sujets un respect qui luy donne l'authorité dont il a besoin pour les pouvoir porter à Dieu, et les obliger bien vivre, en se considerant dependant devant Dieu comme le serviteur des autres, puis qu'en effet il doit croire qu'il ne jouit de ces préeminences et de ces honneurs, qu'afin de servir ceux qui luy sont soûmis, et non pas afin d'en estre servy. Luynes was, of course, a Jansenist. But so in the 1660s was Philippe Goibaut des Bois, who spent twenty years "auprès de" Her Highness Mlle de Guise, and who appears to have played a considerable role in her devotions (more often than not musical). Luynes' statements also mirror what we know about the devotions of Her Royal Highness Mme de Guise, that is, her charitable activites and her conversionary activities. (Oct. 10, 2006) Lorenzani and the musical devotions at the Theatine church: Sometimes the end of a statement in a historical source merits being quoted with the rest of the text. For example, the following statement about the Theatins and the opera-like works performed in their convent church had been quoted many times by musicologists. But I don't recall having read the final sentence (highlighted by bold type), which I happened upon the other day when looking for something else in Depping's Correspondance administrative sous le règne de Louis XIV (Paris, 1851), II, p. 602: Colbert de Seignelay to Archbishop Harlay of Paris, Fontainebleau, Nov. 6, 1685: On s'est plaint au roy que les Théatins, sous prétexte d'une dévotion aux âmes du Purgatoire, faisoient chanter un véritable opéra dans leur église, où le monde se rend à dessein d'entendre la musique; que la porte en est gardèe par deux suisses, qu'on y loue les chaises 10 s, qu'à tous les changemens qui se font, et à tout ce qu'on trouve moyen de mettre à cette dévotion, on fait des affiches, comme à une nouvelle représentation. Sur quoy S.M. m'ordonne de vous escrire pour sçavoir de vous s'il y a quelque fondement à cette plainte, et pour vous dire que, dans le mouvement où sont les religionnaires pour leur conversion, il seroit peut-estre à propos d'éviter ces sortes de représentations publiques que vous sçavez leur faire de la peine, et qui peuvent augmenter l' esloignement qu'ils ont de la religion. The Edict of Nantes had been revoked only a few weeks earlier, on October 18. Louis XIV viewed the new collaboration between Paolo Lorenzani and the Theatins as creating a unnecessary psychological and moral obstacle to the conversion of France's Huguenots to Catholicism. True, Lorenzani continued to work for the reverend fathers for two more years, but this text suggests that the theatricality of these "devotions" was curtailed after late 1685. Was Marc-Antoine Charpentier -- and the two Guise ladies, whose devotional activities included converting Huguenots -- given the same message? It seems likely that the royal desire was indeed made known to Mlle and Mme de Guise, all the more so because, if I am correct in hypothesizing that many of Charpentier's oratorios were performed at the Theatins, the princesses and their composer were as open to criticism for sponsoring opera-like devotions as the Theatins were. At any rate, after the Feast Day of Saint Cecilia, 1685 (that is, approximately two weeks after Seignelay wrote this letter) Charpentier abruptly stopped composing in the oratorical genre. (He did, however, write a new prelude for an older work for Saint Cecilia's Day. 1686, H.415a, which I have surmised may have been intended for a private performance to honor M. Du Bois' dedication of a book to Mlle de Guise). Nor after 1688, while in the service of the Jesuits, did Charpentier go back to writing elaborate compositions that could be accused of resembling operas. True, the 1690s brought a few works that C. Cessac classifies as histoire sacrées, but they rarely called for more than 4 singers and 4 instruments (H.417, H.416; H.418, H. 421). The Judicium Salomonis (H.422), written for the opening of the Parlement of Paris, is a notable exception to this rather surprising about-face. but it was commissioned for a very exclusive event that was unlikely to affect Huguenot sensibilities. A related A factoid that I just found in one of Depping's footnotes, shows how committed to conversions Mme de Guise was during the weeks after the Revocation. On December 30, 1685, her secretary, Charmoy, wrote La Reynie, head of the Paris police: Mme de Guise vient de me commander de me donner l'honneur de vous escrire qu'elle estime, si vous voulez bien faire encore quelque semonce un peu forte à Mme de la Garde, qu'elle prendra le party de faire l'abjuration plustost que de quitter Paris; S.A.R. vous prie de luy garder le secret. La Reynie (or his aide) noted on the letter: "Si elle ne veut pas faire abjuration, le roy ne la veut pas souffir à Paris." (Depping, IV, p. 388, note 1.) To summarize: The Guises promoted the oratorio in France; and from 1675 on into 1685, they ordered Charpentier to compose numerous, often quite ambitious works in that genre. But after the Revocation of October 1685, they bowed to Louis XIV's wishes and ceased sponsoring oratorios. I personally have not come upon any sources, post-Revocation, that suggest how the Theatins responded to the king's wishes. As for the Jesuits, throughout the 1690s they clearly refrained from presenting full-blown oratorios in their church. (Oct. 10, 2006) Why was "Liselotte," the second wife of Philippe d'Orléans, shown holding a piece of fruit (for example, in Landry's Almanach for 1682)? When the German princess arrived in France in 1671, she shocked the French court by munching on a pomegranate: Elle arriva avec un habit de brocard d'argent. ... Il faisoit froid; elle n'avoit pas mis de masque; elle avoit mangé des grenades, qui lui avoient fait devenir les lèvres violettes. Quand l'on vient d'Allemagne, on n'a pas l'air françois. (Mlle de Montpensier, Mémoires, ed. Chéruel, IV, p. 310) |