T’S BECOME TRENDY in certain quarters to regard Abbat Joseph Pothier as a “useful idiot” who had good intentions—at least they grant him that!—but was piteously deficient in his knowledge of CARMEN GREGORIANUM. We’re assured by this cadre that Abbat Pothier (in spite of his ignorance) managed to make some nice discoveries but was nowhere near as ‘enlightened’ as today’s scholars. While they admit that his magnificent articles, fonts, and books have been relied upon by every serious plainsong scholar for the last 150 years, such things are attributed to “dumb luck” rather than a genius who—with superhuman diligence—studied plainsong for decades.
An Example • Consider Johannes Berchmans Göschl,1 a student of Dom Eugène Cardine, who was part of a project called the GRADUALE NOVUM. In 2008, Göschl made this false and defamatory statement: “It is the case that Dom Pothier employed only a few manuscripts as the basis for his reconstruction of the Gregorian chants.” That’s quite a foolish declaration. Indeed, Dr. Katharine Ellis rightly points out that research by scholars like Jean-Pierre Noiseux makes Göschl’s view untenable.
Repeating Myself • It would be silly to blame a cheetah for not having a long neck like a giraffe. Similarly, it’s silly to attack Dom Pothier for failing to accomplish something he never tried to accomplish. Pothier didn’t claim the EDITIO VATICANA was trying to reproduce one particular manuscript. The pope gave him the task of producing a CENTO reflective of the entire manuscript tradition—not just 2-3 manuscripts. I spoke at length about this topic in my recent article: Basic Catechism of Gregorian Chant. Therefore, I won’t repeat today what I already said there.
Recently Released • A few days ago, Dominique Gatté released something quite extraordinary. It’s a reminder that Abbat Pothier wasn’t a “useful idiot”—and nor was Dom Paul Jausions (Pothier’s collaborator and coworker). To explain what Dominique Gatté released, read this paragraph by Dom Pierre Combe:
“It was in 1862 that Dom Jausions and Dom Pothier began the study of the manuscripts notated in staffless neumes, thus going back to the most ancient examples known of Gregorian chant. Inside the city library, Dom Jausions began to copy a Gradual, the manuscript 91 (83) of Angers, a task he would pursue until 1867, as circumstances permitted. In 1867, on the Feast of the Assumption, Dom Jausions presented a handsomely-bound copy of it to Dom Guéranger.”
You can download the original Angers 91 (83) manuscript:
Dominique Gatté took photographs of the copy made by Dom Paul Jausions in the 1860s:
On 6 April 1862, Abbat Guéranger wrote to Dom Jausions, “I admire how you copy all of this. The Processionale has shaped your writing hand.”
Comparison • First, take a look at the original gradual (“A summo caelo”):
Now examine the 1860s transcription by Dom Paul Jausions of that same gradual (“A summo caelo”):
Here is the original of the EXSULTET (according to the 3rd edition of the SAINT EDMUND CAMPION MISSAL, this was traditionally called: “Benedictio Cerei”):
And here’s the copy made by Dom Jausions:
The gorgeous canticle—“Cantémus Dómino”—as it appears in the ancient manuscript:
For reasons I don’t understand, Dom Jausions copied this page out of order. He had to make many trips to the library to get through the entire book, so perhaps he was making sure he got what he needed to (in case he never made it back). Again, the pages are out of order for this one:
The famous COMMUNION for Easter Sunday:
For the record, the Propers for the Sundays after Easter seem to be following a different arrangement than the 1962 Missal. The Christus resurgens ALLELUIA (for example) falls on the “wrong” Sunday.
Here is “In te sperávi,” an Offertory used several times in the MISSALE VETUSTUM.
On 28 March 1867, Dom Jausions had written from Angers, where he was working in the library:
“As for our work’s progress, it clearly will not be rapid, because of the many impediments that slow us down. I shall mention only one. Our task, being the restoration of the text according to the manuscripts, would be considerable enough if we had at our disposal the manuscripts we need in our cells at Solesmes. Do not forget that, far from having these indispensable documents right at hand, we are obliged to procure them first by the interminable route of a complete transcription. Thus because of this, we shall have lost years; I am wrong to say lost, since these transcriptions are for us a study to familiarize us with the chant that we intend to restore; but quite lost, nonetheless, from the point of view of the advancement of the work. Hence I am here at the public library; copying two Graduals, one from the tenth century; the other from the twelfth. In both of them I am at the Sundays after Pentecost (including the sanctoral cycle, which, in these manuscripts, is intercalated within the Proper of the Time). Now I am approaching the end, and by giant steps, but in order to reach this point, I had to make many trips, spending only a few days each time…”
1 This same person was caught using ancient adiastematic notation to “correct” compositions written in in the 19th century and the 20th century. That’s like using a score by Gilles Binchois to “correct” a score by George Gershwin. I gave several specific examples in this article. Indeed, last week I was shown a different edition claiming to have “fidelity to the manuscripts” as its objective. Yet that same edition made “corrections” to melodies composed in the 19th century. That’s like using a score by Guillaume de Machaut to “correct” a composition by Gustav Mahler.
