i

v

“I Believe”: The Credo in Music, 1300 to 1500

by

Harrison Basil Russin

Department of Music Duke University

Date:_______________________ Approved:

___________________________

Thomas Brothers, Advisor

___________________________ Julie Cumming

___________________________

Philip Rupprecht

___________________________ Roseen Giles

Dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor

of Philosophy in the Department of Music in the Graduate School

of Duke University

2021

ABSTRACT

“I Believe”: The Credo in Music, 1300 to 1500

by

Harrison Basil Russin

Department of Music Duke University

Date:_______________________ Approved:

___________________________

Thomas Brothers, Advisor

___________________________ Julie Cumming

___________________________

Philip Rupprecht

___________________________ Roseen Giles

An abstract of a dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of

Music in the Graduate School of Duke University

2021

Copyright by Harrison Basil Russin

2021

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Abstract

The Credo is a liturgical and musical outlier among the movements of the mass

ordinary. It is the longest text of the ordinary, was the latest addition to the mass, and is

the locus of several odd musical phenomena, such as the proliferation of dozens of new

monophonic settings of the creed between the years 1300 and 1500. These musical and

liturgical phenomena have been noted but little studied; furthermore, the reasons

underlying these changes have not been explained or studied. This dissertation analyzes

the musical features of the Credo in monophony and polyphony, and sets the music

within a broader late medieval cultural background.

The research herein is multidisciplinary, using the primary sources of the

music—much of which remains unedited in manuscripts—as well as the works of

medieval writers, theologians, liturgists, clergy, canon lawyers, and laypeople. The

overarching goal is to contextualize the musical Credo by examining the Credo’s place

in late medieval religious and devotional culture.

The argument and conclusion of this dissertation is that the odd musical

phenomena surrounding the late medieval Credo can be illuminated and explained by

placing it within its context. Specifically, the Credo is a major aspect of catechism,

devotion, and liturgy, and musical, literary, and theological treatments of the Credo text

within each of those categories help to explain its musical status.

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Dedication

To Gabrielle

Credo, Domine; adjuva incredulitatem meam.

Mark 9:23

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Contents

Abstract .......................................................................................................................................... iv

List of Tables ................................................................................................................................. xi

List of Figures .............................................................................................................................. xii

Acknowledgements .................................................................................................................... xv

1. Introduction ............................................................................................................................... 1

1.1 The Credo as Part of the Mass Ordinary ....................................................................... 3

1.2 Musical phenomenon of the Credo: late medieval monophony ............................... 8

1.3 An Outline of This Dissertation .................................................................................... 13

1.3.1 Chapter Two: The History of the Creed Within Christian Worship .................. 13

1.3.2 Chapter Three: The Monophonic Melodies of the Credo .................................... 16

1.3.3 Chapter Four: The Credo and Catechism .............................................................. 18

1.3.4 Chapter Five: The Credo and Devotion ................................................................. 21

1.3.5 Chapter Six: The Credo and the Liturgy ................................................................ 22

1.4 Notes on Terminology ................................................................................................... 24

2. The History of the Creed Within Christian Worship ......................................................... 27

2.1 The Creed in the Liturgy ............................................................................................... 29

2.1.1 The Creed in Liturgies of Baptism .......................................................................... 29

2.1.1.1 From the New Testament to Nicaea ................................................................ 29

2.1.1.2 From Nicaea to the Sixth Century ................................................................... 35

2.1.1.3 The Recitation of the Creed at Baptism after the 6th Century in the Latin West .................................................................................................................................. 44

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2.1.2 The Creed in the Eucharistic Liturgy ...................................................................... 49

2.1.2.1 The Eucharistic Liturgy in the Greek East ...................................................... 49

2.1.2.2 The Creed in the Latin Mass ............................................................................. 54

2.2 The Text of the Creed ..................................................................................................... 62

2.3 Charlemagne and the Creed ......................................................................................... 69

3. The Monophonic Melodies of the Credo ............................................................................. 77

3.1 Period I: The Origins of the Plainchant Credo, ca. 800–1300 ................................... 79

3.1.1 The earliest sources for the Credo in Plainchant .................................................. 79

3.1.2 The Possible Eastern Origin of the Western Credo Melodies ............................. 87

Aside: Was the Creed sung in the Greek liturgy? ..................................................... 94

3.1.3 Analysis of the Structure of Credo I ....................................................................... 96

3.1.4 Arguments for a borrowed Greek melody .......................................................... 107

3.2 Period II: Canto fratto and late medieval melodies, 1300–1500 ............................. 111

3.2.1 The origin of canto fratto Credos ............................................................................ 112

3.2.2 14th-century evidence for the beginnings of Canto Fratto ................................... 114

3.2.3 Early mass polyphony and its relationship to the Credo .................................. 116

3.2.4 Descriptions of the Canto Fratto melodies ............................................................ 125

3.2.4.1 Rhythmic versions of Credo I ......................................................................... 125

3.2.4.2 Credo Cardinalis (M279) .................................................................................. 126

3.2.4.3 Credo Apostolorum (M319) .............................................................................. 127

3.2.4.4 Other canto fratto Credo melodies .................................................................. 129

3.3 Conclusion ..................................................................................................................... 132

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4. The Credo and Catechism .................................................................................................... 133

4.1 The Teaching of the Creed up to the Twelfth Century ........................................... 134

4.2 The Twelfth Century .................................................................................................... 139

4.2.1 The Twelfth-century “Renaissance” ..................................................................... 139

4.2.2 Faith and reason in the 12th century ...................................................................... 141

4.2.3 Lateran IV: A Watershed for the Teaching of the Creed ................................... 145

4.2.3 Teaching the Creed in England ............................................................................. 149

4.2.3.1 Oculus Sacerdotis ............................................................................................... 150

4.2.4 Teaching the Creed in France ................................................................................ 152

4.2.5 Teaching the Creed in Italy .................................................................................... 153

4.3 The success of the project of teaching the Creed ..................................................... 156

4.3.1 Chaucer and Dante .................................................................................................. 157

4.3.2 Piers Plowman ........................................................................................................... 160

4.3.3 The Pearl Poem ........................................................................................................ 166

4.3.4 Literary evidence from later centuries ................................................................. 167

4.4 The Credo Cardinalis ................................................................................................... 168

4.5 Conclusion ..................................................................................................................... 178

5. The Credo and Devotion ...................................................................................................... 179

5.1 A definition of medieval religious devotion ............................................................ 180

5.2 The Credo in Art ........................................................................................................... 183

5.2.1 Painting as devotional ............................................................................................ 185

5.2.2 Credo painting as devotional and catechetical ................................................... 187

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5.2.2.1 Credo Tapestries and Woodcuts .................................................................... 190

5.2.3 The Credo in Siena .................................................................................................. 192

5.2.4 Other themes in the Credo in Art .......................................................................... 195

5.3 Literary witnesses of the Credo’s devotional use .................................................... 196

5.3.1 Joinville’s Credo ....................................................................................................... 196

5.3.2 Lay-folks Mass Book ............................................................................................... 198

5.3.3 The Creed in English drama cycles ....................................................................... 200

5.3.4 The Creed and mystical devotion ......................................................................... 202

5.3.4.1 Jan van Ruusbroec ........................................................................................... 202

5.3.4.2 Julian of Norwich ............................................................................................. 204

5.4 Evidence in canonical commentaries ......................................................................... 206

5.5 Summary of the Credo in Devotional culture .......................................................... 209

5.6 Musical examples of devotional uses of the Credo ................................................. 210

5.6.1 Choreography of the Credo during Mass ............................................................ 210

5.6.2 Homophonic moments in polyphonic Credos .................................................... 211

5.6.3 Devotional moments in monophonic Credos ..................................................... 222

5.6.3.1 Fermatas ............................................................................................................ 223

5.6.3.2 Repeated text .................................................................................................... 229

5.6.3.3 Colored Text ..................................................................................................... 230

5.7 Conclusion ..................................................................................................................... 233

6. The Credo and the Liturgy .................................................................................................. 234

6.1 Liturgical Commentaries ............................................................................................. 234

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6.2 Evolution of the Mass Ordinary Cycles .................................................................... 241

6.2.1 Disappearance of Troping and the Rise of the Ordinary ................................... 243

6.2.2 Liturgical Reforms of the Mendicants .................................................................. 247

6.2.3 New Organization of the Kyriale .......................................................................... 252

6.3 Rubrics and the Credo ................................................................................................. 259

6.3.1 Bologna Lit. 12 .......................................................................................................... 264

6.4 Named Credos .............................................................................................................. 273

6.4.1 Credo Cardinalis ...................................................................................................... 274

6.4.1.1 The origins of the title Cardinalis .................................................................. 285

7. Conclusion .............................................................................................................................. 294

Appendix A: Ancient Creeds .................................................................................................. 306

Appendix B: Reproductions of Early Plainchant Credos .................................................... 309

Appendix C: Transcriptions of Canto Fratto Credos ............................................................ 316

Appendix D: The Text of the Vernacular Creed from the Lay Folks Mass Book ................ 337

Bibliography .............................................................................................................................. 339

Biography ................................................................................................................................... 366

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List of Tables

Table 1: Form Chart of Huglo’s Greek Pysteuo ....................................................................... 92

Table 2: Analysis Table of Credo I, per Mocquereau's membres ......................................... 102

Table 3: Analysis Table of Credo I, per Apel’s formulae .................................................... 104

Table 4: Comparison of notation for Credo Regis across 3 manuscripts .......................... 119

Table 5: Table of Monophonic Credos with Fermatas ......................................................... 223

Table 6: Table of Monophonic Credos with repeated text .................................................. 229

Table 7: Table of Monophonic Credos with Colored Text .................................................. 230

Table 8: Mass Ordinary Cycles in the Santa Sabina Gradual ............................................. 257

Table 9: Rubrics for Monophonic Credos .............................................................................. 260

Table 10: Ordinary Cycles in Bologna Lit. 12 (no Credos) .................................................. 264

Table 11: Credos and Rubrics in Bologna Lit. 12 .................................................................. 265

Table 12: Manuscripts Containing Ordinary “Cycles” and Credos .................................. 267

Table 13: Titles for Credo “Cardinalis” in Manuscripts ...................................................... 275

Table 14: Polyphonic Sources and Titles Using Credo “Cardinalis” as a Cantus Firmus ...................................................................................................................................................... 277

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List of Figures

Figure 1: Comparison of three early Credos: Bamberg Lit. 6, f. 95r; Colmar 443 f. 4v, and Credo VI ....................................................................................................................................... 82

Figure 2: The earliest manuscript recording Credo I, Reims 264 f. 105r (13th c) ............... 84

Figure 3: comparison of Credos I, II, V, and VI from the Vatican Edition ......................... 86

Figure 4: Intonation of the Greek Credo from Huglo, transcription of Cologne Stadtsarchiv W. 105 ..................................................................................................................... 91

Figure 5: Second Phrase of the Greek Credo ........................................................................... 92

Figure 6: Half-cadence of the Greek Credo ............................................................................. 92

Figure 7: Examples of the tonic accent on G, preceded by E-F ........................................... 100

Figure 8: Example of "Cadence A" .......................................................................................... 100

Figure 9: Example of "Cadence D" .......................................................................................... 100

Figure 10: A distillation of the melodic formulae of Credo I .............................................. 101

Figure 11: Apel's four formulae for Credo I, from Gregorian Chant 413 ............................ 104

Figure 12: Credo "Bonbarde," adapted from Strohm, 27 ff. ................................................ 123

Figure 13: Credo, Miazga 32, transcribed from Arezzo E ................................................... 124

Figure 14: Modena O.I.13, f. 114v, "Alleluia" ........................................................................ 169

Figure 15: Transcription of the Modena Alleluia ................................................................. 169

Figure 16: Transcription of "O nata lux," from cantusindex.org, Melody mSTA263 ...... 170

Figure 17: Transcription of “Quem terra,” from cantusindex.org, Melody mSTA205 ... 170

Figure 18: "O gloriosa Virginum," Liber Usualis 1314 ........................................................... 171

Figure 19: Transcription of Credo Regis from the 1500 Giunta Graduale, 352r ................. 171

Figure 20: Hymn, "Creator alme siderum," Liber Usualis 324–5 ......................................... 173

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Figure 21: Dufay, "Conditor Alme Siderum," in Bologna Q.15, f. 314v (image courtesy DIAMM) ..................................................................................................................................... 173

Figure 22: Transcription of Dufay's "Conditor Alme Siderum," top line .......................... 173

Figure 23: Transcription with annotations of Credo Cardinalis ........................................ 177

Figure 24: Excerpt from Dufay, Gloria No. 21, mm. 53–8 (from Blackburn, 25) .............. 213

Figure 25: "et homo factus est" from Clibano, Patrem de Vilage (VatS 51, f. 178v-180r) 214

Figure 26: from Ockeghem, Credo sine nomine ................................................................... 215

Figure 27: from Josquin, Patrem Vilage 1; rhythmic values halved .................................. 215

Figure 28: from Brumel, Missa de Beata Virgine .................................................................. 215

Figure 29: from Martini, Missa Cucu ..................................................................................... 216

Figure 30: from La Rue, Missa Nunca fué pena mayor ....................................................... 216

Figure 31: from Pipelare, Missa Fors seulement ................................................................... 216

Figure 32: from Josquin, Missa La sol fa re mi ...................................................................... 217

Figure 33: from La Rue, Missa Almana .................................................................................. 217

Figure 34: From Josquin, Missa Sine nomine ........................................................................ 218

Figure 35: From the Credo of Machaut's Mass (time values halved) ................................ 221

Figure 36: "Amen" from Estienne Grossin's "Gloria" ........................................................... 222

Figure 37: Credo 113 from Erlangen 464 ............................................................................... 224

Figure 38: Credo 113 from BSB Clm. 9508 ............................................................................. 224

Figure 39: Credo 113 from St Gall 546 .................................................................................... 225

Figure 40: Credo 113 from Vat. Lat. 10769 (image from microfilm) .................................. 225

Figure 41: Credo 113 from Rome, Angelica 1424 ................................................................. 225

Figure 42: Credo 113 from Fribourg F3 .................................................................................. 226

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Figure 43: Pisa 219, 89v ............................................................................................................. 228

Figure 44: Perugia San Pietro B, f. 180v–181r ........................................................................ 232

Figure 45: Marginal note in BSB Clm. 23286, f. 35v ............................................................. 272

Figure 46: Bologna University 2839, f. 481r ........................................................................... 282

Figure 47: Note mezzane illustration from Lanfranco, 33. .................................................. 282

Figure 48: Notational Signs from Anonymous, [Regulae contrapuncti]; image from TML ...................................................................................................................................................... 289

Figure 49: Credo from the Bamberg Codex ........................................................................... 309

Figure 50: Credo from Berlin Staatsbibliothek cod. Theo. Lat. 40 ...................................... 313

Figure 51: The Greek Creed of Cologne, Stadtarchiv W. 105, from Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie.” .................................................................................................................................... 315

xv

Acknowledgements

I have been fortunate to study under the direction of expert and dedicated

teachers in college, at seminary, and in graduate school. This dissertation most directly

benefited from the supervision of Thomas Brothers, who continually helped me to refine

the argument and structure presented herein. Tom has been a stalwart advisor and

teacher since this project grew out of an independent study project in the fall of 2015,

and any clarity of presentation is primarily due to his careful reading and thoughtful

probing. I extend my gratitude to him for being the advisor I needed at every step of the

way. I also thank my committee members—Philip Rupprecht and Roseen Giles, both of

Duke University, and Julie Cumming of McGill University, who have been patient in

reading and quick to offer feedback; Jacqueline Waeber also served on the preliminary

committee, and I offer her thanks as well. Kerry McCarthy, formerly of Duke University,

also offered significant help as a reader of several chapters and as a sounding board for

various ideas about medieval chant. Much of my thinking and methodology was

spurred by a seminar taken with John Nádas, emeritus of the University of North

Carolina; Professor Nádas has remained helpful with many questions. I also gratefully

acknowledge the financial support of the Department of Music and the Graduate School

of Duke University, who provided me with numerous fellowships and work

opportunities.

xvi

I also thank my former teachers and now colleagues at St Vladimir’s Orthodox

Theological Seminary, my alma mater since 2013 and employer since 2016. I especially

thank Fr Chad Hatfield, the President of the school, for his care, patience, and latitude,

and the three deans I have served under and whose Dean’s Fellowships have supported

my research—Fr John Behr, John Barnet, and Ionuţ-Alexandru Tudorie. I extend thanks

to Fr Alexander Rentel, Peter Bouteneff, Fr Sergius Halvorsen, Albert Rossi, Fr Nicholas

Solak, Robin Freeman, Richard Schneider, Tracy Gustillo, and Fr Paul Tarazi for their

constant encouragement; and to the seminary students who have responded to some of

the ideas from this research in class and in research forums. I also thank Brittany Lauber

and Crina Gschwandtner who have read and offered feedback on some of this material;

additionally, Brittany aided in many of the Latin translations, and Crina helped with

German.

Laura Williams, Sarah Griffin, and the staff of the Music Library and of

Interlibrary Loan at Duke University Libraries have been immeasurably helpful

throughout this project, as have been the librarians of St Vladimir’s, Eleana Silk and

Danielle Earl. I also thank the librarians of the various libraries and museums in Italy

who assisted me in my research in 2018.

My Duke University classmates have been particularly inspiring, offering

friendship throughout this process. I especially thank Imani Mosley, Megan McCarty,

Scott Lee, Sid Richardson, Kirsten Santos-Rutschman, and Sarah Bereza.

xvii

I benefited much from conversations with other scholars who research chant,

liturgy, and religious culture. I particularly acknowledge Margot Fassler, Eleanor

Giraud, and Fr Innocent Smith, o.p., for their contributions and assistance, and Susan

Boynton, for inviting me to participate in colloquia at Columbia University.

I thank my family, especially my parents, for their trust and support: this is the

“paper” I have been laboring on for years. Finally, I offer my deepest thanks and

gratitude to my wife, Gabrielle Russin, who has suffered years of my eccentric writing,

research, and personal habits. This process has featured an intense period of intellectual

and scholarly growth, but has also served as an arena of spiritual endurance and focus

amid personal trials. Gabrielle has offered support in every way she could, even when I

could not reciprocate. I lovingly dedicate this dissertation to her.

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1. Introduction

The overarching argument of this dissertation is that the odd musical

phenomenon that was the Credo in the 14th and 15th centuries can be illuminated and

explained by placing the Credo within its religious and cultural context of the late

middle ages. As is frequently the case in medieval studies, there is no incontrovertible

evidence to clarify and solidify this explanation; there is no known document of a

medieval church composer laying out his or her motivation for composing a new Credo

melody, or for substituting a Credo in a polyphonic mass for one he or she likes better,

or for abridging the words of the Credo. It is certainly possible, though unlikely, that

future archival discoveries may shed light on the motivations of these medieval

musicians, but my aim in this project is to portray a broad view of the shape of late

medieval religious culture and the way the musical phenomena of the Credo may or

may not be influenced by that culture. Perhaps it is analogous to finding a prehistoric

human skeleton on a previously uninhabited island; absent a handwritten or carved

note explaining the human’s motivations and journey to that island, we have to start

with an analysis of the topography, geography, oceanography, and climate in order to

get an idea of where the human came from and how it arrived on that island.

Subsidiary to the main argument are several different, but related and necessary

tasks related to the musical Credo, including offering a history of the text of the Credo

and analyzing the music and history of the early plainchant Credo I. These other tasks,

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primarily covered in Chapters Two and Three, help clarify the background of the Credo

text—how it was drawn up and promulgated—as well as the main plainchant melody of

the Credo before 1300, the Credo I.

With this history set forth, I turn in the second half of chapter 3 to the

monophonic Credo melodies; in Chapters Four, Five, and Six, I then examine the

cultural background to the monophonic Credo melodies, and also contextualize the

phenomena behind polyphonic Credos between 1300 and 1500.

The categories of religious and cultural background I detail in Chapters Four

through Six are, respectively, catechism, devotion, and liturgy. These three aspects were

fundamental to late medieval religious life, and the Credo is perhaps unique in that it

straddles the three: it served as the means of catechism, was a frequent object of

devotion, and became a prominent liturgical feature.

In this introduction I demonstrate why it is necessary to isolate the Credo and

study it on its own. There has not yet been a monograph or dissertation produced on the

medieval Credo in music, yet it quickly shows itself to be a unique object of study and, I

would argue, more interesting than the other movements of the mass ordinary in

polyphony or monophony. Following this defense of studying the Credo I will provide a

brief precis of each of the five remaining chapters of this dissertation.

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1.1 The Credo as Part of the Mass Ordinary

On the surface, the Credo is routinely described as the third movement of the

mass ordinary, a normal, if periphrastic, member of the unchanging parts of the mass.

Its length is its most salient feature; at 163 words in Latin, it is certainly the longest text

of the mass regularly recited. Other liturgical texts are lengthy but occasional: for

example, the Exultet is about 470 words in Latin, but is sung only once per year. The

extreme length of the Credo makes it a common feature left out of modern performances

of modern masses. Indeed, this impulse to cut the Credo is not unique to modern choirs,

as several manuscripts from the 14th and 15th centuries leave the Credo out of otherwise-

complete masses.1

Other than its length, it would appear safe to assume that the Credo is akin to the

other movements of the mass ordinary. Most introductory texts will affirm that the five

movements of the ordinary are relatively late additions to the celebration of the mass.2

To the observer, especially one familiar with the tradition of polyphonic mass ordinary

compositions beginning in the 14th century, those five movements appear as a monolith.

Indeed, a trend in musicology up to the first decade of the 21st century was to view the

mass ordinary cycle as the earliest coherent masterwork or monument in the history of

Western music, although “aspects of this position have been challenged almost since it

1 See BSB Mus. 3154, BSB Mus. 26, and BSB Mus. 47 for well-documented examples. 2 Cf. J. Peter Burkholder, Donald Jay Grout, Claude V. Palisca, A History of Western Music, 7th ed. (New York: Norton, 2006), 54.

4

was articulated.”3 Andrew Kirkman’s 2010 The Cultural Life of the Early Polyphonic Mass

is, to a large degree, dedicated to clarifying and explaining the polyphonic mass

ordinary by means of cultural and religious, rather than aesthetic and musical concerns.

He opens with a passage quoting Manfred Bukofzer:

It takes a very bold and independent mind to conceive the idea that the invariable parts of the Mass should be composed not as separate items, but as a set of five musically coherent compositions. In the latter case the means of unification are provided by the composer, not the liturgy. This idea, which is the historical premise of the cyclic Ordinary, betrays the weakening of purely liturgical consideration and the strengthening of essentially aesthetic concepts. The “absolute” work of art begins to encroach on liturgical function. We discover here the typical Renaissance attitude—and it is indeed the Renaissance philosophy of art that furnishes the spiritual background to the cyclic Mass. The beginnings of the Mass cycle coincide with the beginnings of the musical Renaissance. It is therefore hardly surprising that the decisive turn in the development of the cyclic Mass occurred only in the early fifteenth century. At this time the first attempts are made to unify the movements of the Ordinary by means of the same musical material.4

Bukofzer’s sentiment reflects an understanding of the mass ordinary as a unified whole,

and of the music written for its texts as establishing it as that “absolute” work of art.

The notion of the polyphonic mass ordinary cycles as a monolithic artistic entity

is largely passé, and a more nuanced picture has emerged through modern scholarship.

3 Andrew Kirkman, The Cultural Life of the Early Polyphonic Mass (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 3. 4 Manfred F. Bukofzer, Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Music (New York: Norton, 1950), 218–19.

5

The mass ordinary in its earliest musical and liturgical treatments appears as more of a

loose confederation of unrelated texts rather than a singular liturgical unit, and that

sense of coincidence carries through even into polyphonic settings of the 16th century.

Take, for instance, the liturgical functions and origins of the mass ordinary texts:

1. Kyrie eleison entered the Roman mass at an early date. It is the response of the

litany, which is itself a liturgical unit which dates to the fourth century in both

the Christian East and West, when the newly legalized church was attempting to

accommodate large masses of people. The phrase kyrie eleison was a common

imperial petition, adapted into Christianity as a refrain for a litany, and

incorporated into the practice of stational liturgies throughout Rome in the Greek

language; in its present form it was in place by the 6th century, as Gregory the

Great refers to it in one of his letters.5

2. Gloria in excelsis deo was, according to the Liber Pontificalis, introduced by Pope

Symmachus (498–514) into the Roman liturgy in the early 6th century.6 The text

itself is of ancient provenance, based on the angels’ proclamation in Luke 2:14

and interpolated with non-scriptural lyrics. Like the text of the Kyrie, the Gloria is

5 John F. Baldovin, “Kyrie Eleison and the Entrance Rite of the Roman Eucharist,” Worship 60 (1986): 334–347; John F. Baldovin, The Urban Character of Christian Worship: The Origins, Development, and Meaning of Stational Liturgy (Rome: Pont. Institutum Orientalum, 1987), 245. See also John F. Romano, “Ritual and Society in Early Medieval Rome,” (PhD dissertation, Harvard University, 2007), 273. Also Joseph A. Jungmann, The Mass of the Roman Rite: Its Origins and Development, trans. Francis A. Brunner (Westminster, MD: Christian Classics, 1951 [1949]), vol. 1, 333–346. 6 Romano, 275–6; Jungmann, vol. 1, 346–359.

6

a common liturgical feature of several ancient Christian traditions, though it is

not originally germane to the eucharistic celebration of the mass; rather, it

originates as an office hymn.

3. The Credo, as we will see in Chapter Two, entered the Greek eucharistic rites in

the early 6th century, and was officially ensconced in Roman practice only in the

11th century. It is not a hymn like the Gloria, nor is it a prayer like the Kyrie. It is,

rather, a declaration of faith, originally a political text.

4. The Sanctus is a choral interruption into the priest’s prayer at the preface of the

eucharistic prayers. In fact, it is the completion of the sentence the celebrant

begins before the choir’s entrance:

Quam laudant Angeli atque Archangeli, Cherubim quoque ac Seraphim: qui non cessant clamare quotidie, una voce dicentes, “Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth…”

Whom the angels and archangels praise, cherubim along with seraphim, who do not cease to cry daily, with one voice saying: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth.”

The choir’s text (“Sanctus…”) comes from the vision in Isaiah 6:3 of the Lord

sitting upon a throne, and it is the only part of the eucharistic canon that does

not follow the call-and-response model of the rest of the text.7 It is one of the

7 Jungmann, vol. 2, 128 ff.

7

most ancient parts of the eucharistic gathering, attested to in some of the earliest

liturgies of both East and West.8

5. Agnus Dei was purportedly introduced to the mass by Pope Sergius I (687–701)

and was apparently originally designed to accompany the fraction of the

communion host by the priest.9 As the fraction fell out of practice in the Roman

tradition because of the introduction of unleavened bread, the Agnus gradually

transitioned to a Communion hymn. Originally, the chant was repeated as many

times as necessary to cover the priest’s actions at the fraction. The final ending

“dona nobis pacem” was only added later.10

The status of the mass ordinary as a liturgical unit is suspect in its very nature. These

five movements indeed are unchanging aspects of the mass but are wildly different in

their liturgical functions and histories.

If we are to pick one movement for specific musical investigation, the Credo

jumps out as an obvious choice for musical and non-musical reasons. Musically, the

Credo proved a great challenge for composers and musicians because of its length and

prolixity. What may jump out as obvious musical design in other movements—for

example, the repetition of the “Kyrie” and “Agnus” or the hymnic strophes of the

8 The Sanctus is in two 4th-century liturgical texts (the Euchologion of Serapion and the Apostolic Constitutions), and Jungmann postulates that it its liturgical use extends to the “primitive church,” i.e., in the first century. Cf. Jungmann vol. 2, 132. 9 Jungmann, vol. 2, 333 10 Pierre Batiffol, Leçons sur la Messe (Paris: Librairie Victor Lecoffre, 1927 [1917]), 93; Romano, 298.

8

“Gloria”—is hidden in the tedious theological language of the Credo, and often needs to

be teased out through careful analysis. Non-musically, the Credo was culturally

significant as a pedagogical text, which led to its use as a devotional text as well. Its uses

were diverse, including serving as an apotropaic totem for picking herbs and

functioning as a primer for children learning their alphabet.

1.2 Musical phenomenon of the Credo: late medieval monophony

The peculiar aspects of the Credo within liturgical history help to highlight its

strange position within the polyphonic mass tradition of the 14th and 15th centuries. But

as we move to music that was not reserved for the choirs of wealthy patrons and

institutions, we discover a vast world of monophonic and “simple polyphonic” music

that apparently had a wider broadcast and transmission than the great polyphonic

masterworks.11

Scholars have certainly been aware of and studied aspects of these monophonic

works since at least the early 1900s.12 These studies include the Benedictine monk and

musicologist Raphael Molitor’s Die nach-tridentische Choral-Reform (1901, two volumes)

and Deutsche Choral-Wiegendruck (1904), both of which study notation shapes and

chant—especially cantus figuratus, which was viewed as something of a corruption of

11 See especially the papers published in Le polifonie primitive in Friuli e in Europa: atti del congresso internazionale Cividale del Friuli, 22-24 agosto 1980, ed. Cesare Corsi (Roma: Ed. Torre d’Orfeo, 1989). 12 See William Dalglish, “The Origin of the Hocket,” JAMS 31 (1978):3–20, at page 12, fn.35.

9

“authentic” Gregorian chant. Otto Marxer’s Zur spätmittelalterlichen Choralgeschichte St.

Gallens. Der Cod. 546 der St. Galler Stiftsbibliothek (1908) gives special attention to the St

Gall MS 546, an early 16th-century collection of tropes and sequences compiled for the

beatification of Notker Balbulus in 1513. Maximilian Sigl’s dissertation, Zur geschichte des

Ordinarium Missae in der deutschen Choralüberlieferung (1911) offers transcriptions of

several melodies from German manuscripts featuring the cantus fractus style.

Despite these early essays and observances, the scholarly appraisal had not

improved significantly by 2016, when Joseph Dyer wrote that “[a] comprehensive

survey of the phenomenon in Italy or elsewhere in Europe remains to be written, so

large and widely disseminated was [the cantus fractus] repertoire.”13 That is not to say

there have not been major scholarly interventions, especially from European scholars.

Reinhard Strohm devotes a few pages to the phenomenon in his magisterial The Rise of

European Music, 1380–1500.14 Strohm notes that the “phenomenon overlaps to some

extent with that of simple polyphony…, and also with artistic Renaissance polyphony.”15

Rob Wegman, writing about improvised counterpoint, likewise opines that that

particular phenomenon—and, perhaps by extension we can include related phenomena

13 Joseph Dyer, “A New Source for the Performance of Cantus Planus and Cantus Fractus in Eighteenth-Century Venice,” Journal of Musicology 33 (2016):569–607, at 576–77. Dyer is not slighting Marco Gozzi’s contributions. Instead he praises Gozzi as one of the few scholars to study cantus fractus, but laments that there is no single-volume monograph on cantus fractus. 14 Reinhard Strohm, The Rise of European Music, 1380–1500 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 325–27 15 Strohm, 325.

10

of simple polyphony, improvised polyphony, and chant using mensural note shapes—is

not very-well studied or understood:

It would be easy to spend the rest of this contribution giving other examples of this practice, which has no name, and which I have chosen to call, purely for my own reference, cantus planus settings, collected from all over Europe, in manuscripts from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. There are hundreds and hundreds of such settings, most of them not even available in modern editions, and the tradition as such is as yet completely unstudied. But apparently it was a universal tradition, and for a long time, even after the Reformation, it continued to be practiced in Catholic countries.16

As a musical style it perdured well into the 19th century. Indeed, many choir books were

intentionally updated in the 15th and 16th centuries to include more examples of cantus

fractus settings and to expand their Credo collections, a phenomenon I will explore in

more depth in Chapter Six.17

This dissertation began its life as I examined the Credo from Obrecht’s Missa

Grecorum. Coming from an academic background in Eastern Orthodox liturgical music

16 Rob C. Wegman, “What is Counterpoint?” in Improvising Early Music, Rob C. Wegman, Johannes Menke, Peter Schubert (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2014), 9–68, at 58. 17 Marco Gozzi writes, “In many Italian churches the series of choir books, still preserved, were renewed in the fifteenth and first years of the sixteenth century. These sets contain antiphonaries and graduals (with appendices of kyriales and prosers, sometimes psalters; the main preserved series (many relating to cathedrals, or collegiate or important convents and monasteries) are listed in the Iter liturgicum Italicum by Giacomo Baroffio and can be dated to the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It must be stressed that these books were used, in the majority of cases, for more than four centuries. Almost all of them were corrected after the promulgation of the Breviary and of the Missal of Pius V (respectively in 1568 and 1570), with the addition of minor variations introduced by the new official version of the post-conciliar books.” Marco Gozzi, “Italy to 1300,” in the Cambridge Companion to Medieval Music, ed. Mark Everist (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 121–135, at 128.

11

and liturgical theology, I was struck by the apparent deletion of text in Obrecht’s Credo:

he skips the entire clause on the Holy Spirit, “Et in spiritum sanctum.” This is one

example of so-called polyphonic Credo deletions, which have been frequently noted,

studied, and explained, and the most commonly accepted reason now is that they were

continental misreadings of English text underlay.18 Yet this strange musico-liturgical

occurrence, which seems unthinkable to any practicing church musician today, was only

the gateway to the fascinating musical, liturgical, and religious-cultural world of the

Credo in the late medieval period.

As I penetrated deeper into the mysteries of Credo music, the focus of my

research changed. What began as an essay on polyphonic treatments of the Credo

developed into a probing study of the status of the Credo in music, liturgy, theology,

and religion in the late medieval period. This wide-ranging view of the Credo makes

this study de facto interdisciplinary, though the focus remains on the music. Indeed, the

motivating question is how these cultural phenomena impact our understanding of the

music? As I delved more into the cultural background of the Credo, I also delved into

the canto fratto musical phenomenon, traveling throughout Italy and the United States,

as well as using as many microfilm and web-based facsimiles as possible, to amass a

portfolio of 50 Credos (not all unique) from 90 manuscripts. Even as I prepare this

18 See most recently James Matthew Cooke’s “Mid-fifteenth-century English mass cycles in continental sources” (Ph.D. thesis, University of Nottingham, 2014), 214–223.

12

manuscript for submission, I am still discovering more Credo manuscript sources, and a

project is underway by Lenka Hlávková of Charles University in Prague to produce an

online catalogue of late-medieval Credos.

A few examples from my research will help to illustrate this interconnectedness.

As I demonstrate in the second and third chapters, the earliest Western plainchant

setting of the Creed text had its origins in Charlemagne’s court at Aachen, and is

possibly related to a series of mass ordinary chants composed for a Missa Graeca around

the feast of Pentecost.19 Other scholars have independently argued for a Greek origin of

the modern Credo melody, and, when taking into account the political and theological

background of Carolingian claims of dominion, a Greek-sounding music and liturgy

takes on a different meaning—one of political appropriation.

Another example is the liturgical ranking of various chants of the Credo,

explored in Chapter Six. As early as the 12th century, different ranks of feast day within

the Catholic liturgical year were associated with different chants of the ordinary. This

practice was reified in the mid-13th century with the Franciscan and Dominican liturgical

reforms, and from that time the collations of mass ordinaries (called by some scholars

“plainchant cycles”) become normative, with a few regional variations. The Credo

followed suit in the 14th and 15th centuries, and by the 15th century many manuscripts

19 See most recently Nina-Maria Wanek, “Tropus Grece: The Use of Greek-Texted Ordinary Chants in 10th/11th-centuries manuscripts from St Gall and Limoges,” Journal of the International Society for Orthodox Church Music 4 (2020):30–44.

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included several different Credos arranged similar to the chants of the ordinary, in order

to deepen the relationship between liturgical feast and musical choice.

There are surely many unexplained phenomena surrounding the Credo in the

period from 1300–1500. Excavating the background of these phenomena gives a richer

understanding of musical life in the late medieval period. It both helps to explain the

“high art” of the Credos of Dufay, Obrecht, and Josquin, while also revealing more

about the common practice of church musicians at lesser-endowed institutions. The

compositions of standalone Credo movements continued even into the early 16th

century, as Isaac’s thirteen Credos in BSB 53, a manuscript from c.1510, demonstrate.20

1.3 An Outline of This Dissertation

1.3.1 Chapter Two: The History of the Creed Within Christian Worship

In Chapter Two, I attend to three related questions on the history and text of the

Creed. The first and broadest is how the Creed entered the mass ordinary, which I

address with a view to explaining why the rubrics behind the Creed are unusual when

compared with other items of the ordinary. As explained above, the Creed and Gloria

are the only items that are not sung at every mass. Additionally, the Creed is of a

different genre than the other items of the mass: it is clearly a statement of faith rather

than a hymn in praise of God like the Gloria, or a biblical song of praise like the Sanctus.

20 In edition as CMM 65:5.

14

Indeed, the entry of the Creed into liturgical worship occurred two centuries after its

composition, which itself was an official, imperial statement of faith.

Related to this theological and liturgical question are two secondary topics. The

first question is how the Creed’s text was composed and fixed. While the Creed is

officially named the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed (in reference to the Councils of

Nicaea in 325 and Constantinople in 381), its earliest extant texts are seen in 5th century

accounts in Greek; only in the 8th century did that text become fixed in Latin. The test

text itself bears markers of the theological controversies which led to its formation, and

which determined its afterlife; we see examples of this in words like consubstantialem and

filioque, words which inspired (and continue to inspire) much theological debate.

The third question, and the question probably most relevant to musicologists, is

how the Creed became a political tool in the hands of Charlemagne and his court

advisors in Aachen. From its original composition in the fourth century to its adoption

in the Carolingian mass in the eighth, the Creed served as a litmus test for determining

who was within the bounds of imperial catholic orthodoxy. Charlemagne’s use was no

different—in the words of J.N.D. Kelly, he wielded the Creed like a weapon, taking up

“the filioque with something like fervour… [He saw it] as a trump-card against the

Eastern empire … .”21 I endeavor to establish a link between Charlemagne’s political

21 J.N.D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 3rd ed. (New York: Continuum, 2006), 363, 365.

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motivations and the earliest Latin chant settings of the Creed as bearing those political

overtones. The historical and political nature of this argument continues in Chapter

Three.

Placing the origins of the history of the Creed within broad contexts necessarily

involves stretching beyond the traditional bounds of musicology. In historical theology,

I have been most aided by the studies of J.N.D. Kelly and his successors.22 Kelly's

approach has recently come under attack from some scholars who think that he imposes

a “dogmatic theological” approach onto issues that did not have that shape at that

time—that he treats the 4th century as the “trinitarian controversy” and the 5th century

as the “Christological controversy,” for example. Yet Kelly's sources and methods for

analyzing the formation of the Creed remain sound. In terms of investigating the

musical and liturgical culture of the Carolingian court, I have followed closely the work

of scholars of early Gregorian chant like Kenneth Levy, Charles Atkinson, and James

McKinnon. Atkinson in particular has researched the “Missa Graeca” of the Carolingian

court, the origin of Greek-texted versions of the Credo, Gloria, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei

in several manuscripts of the 9th through 11th centuries.23 Although recent treatments—

most notably, Christopher Page’s magisterial The Christian West and Its Singers—have

22 For example, John Behr, John the Theologian and his Paschal Gospel: A Prologue to Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019), 12. 23 Charles Atkinson, “Further Thoughts on the Missa Graeca,” in De Musica et cantu: Studien zur Geschichte der Kirchenmusik und der Oper—Helmut Hucke zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. Peter Cahn and Ann-Katrin Heimer. (Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1993), 75–93, at 75.

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detailed the documentary evidence for understanding the development of chant and

liturgy in the Carolingian period, my intervention here is to place the Creed specifically

in its liturgical, theological, historical, and political context. By reading this chapter,

musicologists will ascertain a greater understanding of why the Creed is so odd in its

liturgical and musical treatment. The credo, standing at the middle of the five

movements of the mass ordinary, was not designed as a liturgical song, but its use as

such bears markers of its theological and political history.

1.3.2 Chapter Three: The Monophonic Melodies of the Credo

In Chapter Three, I address the question of the history and structure of the

primary monophonic melodies of the Creed—asking how these were melodies

conceived, structured, and propagated. The chapter is divided into two large sections:

the first investigates the Latin plainchant melody for the Creed now known as Credo I,

along with other related early Credo melodies, and the second investigates the melodies

of monophonic Credos that began appearing after 1300, all of which were composed in a

style using mensural note shapes which is now called cantus fractus.

In examining the early plainchant Credos, I argue that Credo I is probably a

high-medieval reification of an earlier melody or family of melodies; this is most easily

demonstrated in comparing Credo I alongside the other early Credos of the Vatican

Edition, Credos II, V, and VI. When examining the manuscript evidence, it actually

appears that Credo VI is the earliest plainchant Credo. Furthermore, I attempt to relate

17

this corpus of plainchant Credos to other early Credos, showing that there is a possible

origin in or perhaps mimicking of Greek and Eastern Credo settings.

Each of these questions requires investigating several aspects of their histories. In

looking at Credo I, the political background of Charlemagne and the Creed exposited in

Chapter Two becomes musically relevant. If there is a Greek political and theological

background to the liturgical decisions of the Carolingian court at Aachen, does the

Credo I melody fit into that background? Several chant scholars have posited a Greek

origin, or at least musical paradigm, for Credo I. I consider this Greek origin carefully

and collate the prevailing evidence for any sort of Greek origin for the Creed, while also

relating it to that political background.

The question of the cantus fractus Credos involves a completely different

historical background, and in general has received much less investigation from

musicologists. While collating the evidence and scholarly opinions on what is known

and postulated about their origins, I also present new arguments and contexts for these

melodies. I attempt to place these monophonic compositions against the background of

early polyphonic mass movements of the 14th century, showing that there are similarities

in their musical and liturgical features. Furthermore, I assemble, transcribe, and analyze

the melodies of these Credos as we currently have them.

Methodologically I have been most aided by the work of chant scholars and

cantus fractus scholars; within the first group, I have relied heavily upon the research of

18

recent scholars like Michel Huglo, Kenneth Levy, Charles Atkinson, and David Hiley,

while also referring consistently to the early 20th-century work of the Solesmes school,

especially the monks and scholars André Mocquereau and Joseph Gajard.24 Cantus

fractus, on the other hand, is still developing as an area of scholarly interest. Aside from

a few footnotes and short articles found in the German-language studies mentioned

above, the main scholar of cantus fractus is Marco Gozzi, who has published widely on

various cantus fractus melodies and manuscripts. A number of Eastern European

scholars such as Hana Vlhová–Wörner and Pawel Gancarczyk have also greatly

expanded our understanding of scope of the cantus fractus phenomenon and have

highlighted how prevalent it is in late medieval sources.

1.3.3 Chapter Four: The Credo and Catechism

Chapters Four, Five, and Six form a unit of three separate but related essays

describing the Credo in late-medieval religious culture. Chapter Four focuses on the

Credo and catechism, Five on the Credo and devotion, and Six on the Credo and liturgy.

Chapter Four addresses the topic of catechism in late medieval religious life,

specifically looking at how the Credo fits into the broader frame of catechism. I also

24 Especially Michel Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authentique’ de la Vaticane,” Revue Grégorienne 30 (1951): 68-78 Levy, Kenneth. “The Byzantine Sanctus East and West.” Annales Musicologiques 6 (1958). 7–67; Charles Atkinson, “The Doxa, the Pisteuo, and the ellinici fratres: Some Anomalies in the Transmission of the Chants of the ‘Missa Graeca,’” Journal of Musicology 7 (1989):81–106; David Hiley, Western Plainchant: A Handbook (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993); Joseph Gajard, “Le Credo VI,” Revue Gregorienne 9 (1924):172–186, and André Mocquerau, Le Nombre Musical: Grégorien ou Rhythmique Grégorienne (Rome, Tournai: Desclée, 1908).

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analyze the music for Credo Cardinalis (Credo IV) with the catechetical goal in mind,

arguing that it could be written for easier memorization.

The first part of the chapter broadly addresses the evolution of catechism within

the Roman Catholic Church and how the Credo has been part of catechesis for centuries.

I offer an overview of the teaching of the creed up to the 12th century. With the rise of

universities and scholasticism in the 12th century, a distinct change of focus changed the

importance accorded to the Credo. 12th-century theologians argued that an

understanding of faith, primarily through the creed, was necessary for salvation. Such

an emphasis led to a renewed emphasis on catechesis by means of the Creed in the 13th

century, evident in official decrees from the church. I then demonstrate that this project

of instruction in the Creed was successful by pointing out numerous literary references

from 14th-century literature emphasizing the importance of knowing the Creed.

Musically, I analyze Credo Cardinalis with an emphasis on how different it is

from the Gregorian and plainchant Credo corpus. Credo Cardinalis is neither a strophic

melody, nor a psalm-tone like recitation like Credo I. It does, however, offer a dramatic

and effective presentation of the Credo text through the use of several recurring

formulae which mark different articles of the Creed.

My starting point for this chapter was the second chapter from Eamon Duffy’s

The Stripping of the Altars, “How the Plowman learned his Paternoster,” in which Duffy

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details the many catechetical efforts of the English church in the 15th and 16th centuries.25

Following on Duffy’s sources led to a wealth of information on catechesis in the 13th and

14th centuries both in England and on the Continent, as well as studies of the evolution

of pastoral literature and the impact of university theologians from the 12th century. The

literary citations have come from a variety of sources and were particularly instigated by

my study of Piers Plowman with David Aers.

In analyzing Credo Cardinalis, there are not many available studies to build

upon. Marco Gozzi’s published chapters and papers on the Cardinalis are the main

analyses available, although the Cardinalis has been mentioned by chant scholars since

the late 19th century. It has recently become the subject of some renewed attention with

the publication of the edition of Gaspar van Weerbeke’s mass movement based on

Credo Cardinalis.26 Weerbeke’s mass is just one example of several late-15th century

masses using Credo Cardinalis as a cantus firmus; I have found twelve others, only six

of which are in modern editions. Although it was probably composed around the year

1300, Credo Cardinalis enjoyed renewed attention from composers particularly in the

orbit of the Sistine Chapel in the late 15th century.

25 Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England 1400–1580, 2nd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005). 26 Gaspar van Weerbeke, Collected Works, ed. Gerhard Croll, Eric F. Fiedler, Andrea Lindmayr-Brandl. Vol. 2: Masses, Part 2. CMM 106:2, ed. Paul Kolb (n.p.: American Institute of Musicology, 2018).

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1.3.4 Chapter Five: The Credo and Devotion

Chapter Five examines the world of medieval devotional practices and their

intersection with the Credo. This chapter shows how the statements of the Creed became

further embedded in medieval religious culture beyond the sense of catechesis or

learning the faith. Instead, it examines the Creed as a devotional sign, a sacred text and

prayer which could sum up the objects of Christian devotion. I also address how these

devotional aspects of the Creed are musically significant by examining devotional

residue in Credo monophony and polyphony. Specifically, I look at polyphonic

moments of homophony, often marked with fermatas, as well as examples in

manuscripts of monophony of red text, repeated words, and fermatas.

In examining devotion, I take definitions from Johan Huizinga and Richard

Kieckhefer as starting points. Kieckhefer in particular points to the various genres and

media in which devotion appears. I thus look at examples of the Credo within these

varieties of devotion, specifically looking at the Credo in artwork, superstition, and

literature. There are many examples of the Credo being used in each of these genres,

from “Credo tapestries” using the Credo as an organizing motif for its panels to a

devotional vernacular Credo composed by a crusader to be read to dying men.

If the Credo enjoyed such popularity as an object of devotion, it is not surprising

that similar devotional aspects appear in music. There are several musical aspects of the

Credo which can be considered devotional, often associated with moments of

22

genuflection during the mass. I relate these musical moments to the broader theme of

devotion to the Credo and highlight how widespread they are.

This chapter also arose from reading Duffy, and the many examples of Credo

devotional art and literature were inspired by my reading in various cultural studies as

well as travels through Italy. Siena in particular, as shown in this chapter, has a great

history of Credo paintings, and has drawn the attention of many art historians. These

devotional aspects in music have often been noted but have not been systematically

organized before.

1.3.5 Chapter Six: The Credo and the Liturgy

In Chapter Six I examine the Credo as a liturgical object. As I laid out above, the

Credo is unique among the items of the ordinary in that it is not a liturgical prayer or

hymn, and in that it was the latest addition to the Roman mass celebration. This unusual

liturgical history is reflected in musical and liturgical treatment in the late middle ages.

In order to show the Credo’s odd liturgical position, I examine the commentaries

from three medieval liturgists—Sicardo of Cremona (1155–1215), Pope Innocent III

(1160–1216), and William Durand (1230–1296), detailing how these commentators treat

the Credo. They particularly emphasize the unanimity of voice of the assembly, the

exceptional rubrics for when the Credo can be sung at mass, and the historical

importance of the Credo.

23

Second, I set the late medieval liturgical changes of the Credo in the context of

the evolution of the mass ordinary as a cycle of hymns. Beginning in the 13th century,

plainchant manuscripts started organizing mass ordinary movements as groups of festal

masses, rather than as individual movements. In other words, instead of having a corpus

of Kyries followed by a corpus of Glorias, liturgical reforms in the 13th century compiled

groups of Kyrie–Gloria–Sanctus–Agnus chants into “mass cycles.” I offer a history of

this codification, initiated and accomplished by Dominicans, and describe it as an

extension of the impulse to associate ordinary hymns with the liturgical celebrations of

feasts. I then describe how, beginning in the 14th century, the new corpus of monophonic

Credos assumed a similar association. Many manuscripts from the 14th and 15th centuries

give specific rubrics for cantus fractus Credos on festal associations, furthering the

liturgical organization began in the 13th century with the other mass ordinary

movements.

Third, I examine the related phenomenon of named Credos. I specifically address

the naming of the Credo Cardinalis, a title which is found in the 15th century for the 14th-

century composition, but remains unexplained. After summarizing the prevailing

explanations for the name of cardinalis, I offer a new explanation based on the term cardo

found in some theoretical writings.

My sources in this research are diverse. In examining medieval liturgical

commentaries, I have been most guided by the works of Timothy Thibodeau, a scholar

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who has translated many volumes of Durand’s mass commentary. In describing the

evolution of the mass ordinary “cycle” I have followed the research of Leo Schrade, who

in the 1950s argued for the rise of plainchant “mass cycles” as forebears of polyphonic

cyclic masses of the 15th century; I have also relied on Andrew Kirkman’s more recent

appraisal of Schrade’s efforts and his historical and liturgical contextualization of the

late-medieval mass. In examining names for the Credos, I have closely examined

theoretical texts available on the Thesaurus Musicarum Latinarum, a searchable

compendium of Latin music theoretically texts initially directed by Thomas J. Mathiesen.

Using such a variety of modern scholarship has helped me to further contextualize the

Credo in the 14th and 15th centuries.

1.4 Notes on Terminology

Two matters of terminology need to be clarified at the outset. The first is the use

of the term “Gregorian Chant.” In a technical sense, Gregorian Chant refers to the

Roman chant assimilated by the Franks in the 8th century. Of course, the relationship of

the Gregorian chant of ca. 900 to the older Roman repertoire and the related Old Roman

Chant corpus is highly debated, as is any putative connection between that Roman

liturgical chant corpus and Gregory the Great (r.590–604). This terminology, however, is

useful in delineating the oldest layer of the Frankish-Roman chant project from later

innovations of the high and late medieval periods, especially when considering

developments like tropes, prosulae, and conductus.

25

The language describing these chant forms has not been consistent in scholarship

in English or in other languages, however. The medieval Latin texts themselves often

use the phrase cantus planus or cantus choralis in contrast with cantus figuratus or cantus

fractus, or other designations to describe rhythmic or polyphonic music. The majority of

scholarship on cantus fractus music is written in Italian, and thus I have followed the

usage of Italian scholars in referring to the larger, canonical plainchant corpus of the

Catholic Church as “Gregorian Chant,” rather than using “Gregorian” in the narrower

sense of the Frankish-Roman corpus mentioned above.27

A second point of terminology which needs clarification is that of word Credo. I

have generally, though not with perfect consistency, used the term “Credo” to refer to

the musical settings and “Creed” to refer to the text and general liturgical movement.

Ultimately the two words are synonymous. The main point of concern, however, is in

differentiating the various medieval Creeds from each other. Very often both medieval

and secondary sources will use the term Credo to refer to either the long Nicene Creed or

the shorter Apostles’ Creed; other Creeds were also current in the Catholic Church

throughout the period in discussion in this dissertation, such as the Athanasian Creed,

27 For example, Marco Gozzi writes: “Quanti pezzi hanno tenores derivati dal repertorio liturgico? Lo studio dei modelli gregoriani può portare ad una certa localizzazione della provenienza.” Marco Gozzi, “Liturgia e musica mensurale nel Trecento Italiano: i canti dell’ordinarium,” in Kontinuität und Transformation in der italienischen Vokalmusik zwischen Due-und Guattrocento, ed. Sandra Dieckmann, Oliver Huck, Signe Rotter-Broman und Alba Scotti (Hildesheim: Olms, 2007), 53-99, at 60.

26

which is not a declaratory Creed in the manner of these other two. The Nicene Creed

and the Apostles’ Creed are related texts, but the Nicene Creed was officially composed

under the oversight of church leaders and theologians, whereas the origins of the

Apostles’ Creed remain obscure and probably pre-Constantinian. This issue is especially

pertinent in Chapter Four, wherein I discuss the Credo and catechism; many of the

catechetical texts under discussion in that chapter are most likely (and in many cases

explicitly) referring to the shorter Apostles’ Creed, and use its text as an incipit (“Credo

in Deum”, versus the “Credo in unum Deum” of the Nicene Creed).

For ease of discussion and argument I have collapsed these two different texts

into a general discussion of the Creed. The Apostles’ Creed is a liturgical feature of the

offices (before Matins, Prime, and after Compline), but is recited without music, and was

not an object of musical composition. The only musical examples I am aware of are those

listed in Hiley and Crocker’s “Credo” article in New Grove—the Credo of the Sens

Circumcision office and a 13-voice setting by Robert Wilkinson from the early 16th

century.

27

2. The History of the Creed Within Christian Worship

The Creed belongs to a genre different from every other element of the mass and

office. It is clearly not a liturgical prayer: most liturgical prayers follow a few stock

patterns—proclaiming God’s greatness, deploring the state of the humanity, and asking

for forgiveness or blessing. Instead, the Creed is a bald statement of faith, a proclamation

of “who is in and who is out,” and a marker of the borders of catholicity. In this section I

show how the Creed went from a baptismal statement of faith, to an imperial

proclamation of religious orthodoxy, to a contentious element of the eucharistic liturgy.

Only in the 11th century—nearly seven hundred years after its initial composition—did it

officially enter the mass, and even at that point only for occasional commemorations.

While the Creed has been a fixture of Sunday masses for nearly a millennium, its unique

position within the liturgical rites of the medieval Catholic church can be traced to its

early dogmatic and liturgical history. I end this chapter with an exploration of the

history of the Creed at Charlemagne’s court at Aachen, interpreting the theology and

politics of that setting as the pivotal moment which led to the Credo I chant.

The first and longest section of this chapter is entitled “The Creed in the

Liturgy.” My starting point here is a search for the entrance of the Creed into the

liturgical structure of Christian worship. The Creed of the mass is not naturally a

liturgical text; historically, it arises from theological controversies that were clarified in

the fourth and fifth centuries. There are two complicating factors with this observation,

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however. One factor is that, though the Nicene Creed is not a liturgical text, it developed

from baptismal confessions of faith common across Christian communities of the early

centuries—that is, its genesis was in a liturgical celebration of initiation. The other factor

is that, despite the Creed’s composition as a declaration of faith, it did eventually enter

the Eucharistic and office worship of the Christian church, thus becoming by common

practice a liturgical text. This section thus provides many examples of primary sources

showing the evidence of the Creed’s liturgical use in both baptism and eucharist,

covering the time from the New Testament writings to the official adoption of the Creed

as part of the Latin Mass in the 11th century.

The second section is entitled “The Text of the Creed.” This section offers a

narrative of the history of the Latin text of the Creed, which was standardized by the 9th

century. Perhaps not surprisingly, the Latin Creed was unstable in its translation history

for several centuries, unlike the other scripturally-derived movements and texts of the

mass. Certain words within the Creed were controversial and difficult for both its

original Greek compilers and its Latin translators; additionally, Latin theologians and

bishops in Spain added a word to the Creed, thus initiating theological controversies

which endure to this day.

The third section addresses specifically the court of Charlemagne at Aachen, a

setting which proved to be distinctly influential in the musical and liturgical history of

the Creed. Particularly salient to music history is the liturgical place of the Creed at the

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liturgies at Aachen, along with other items of the mass. It is likely that liturgical

developments at Aachen carried political overtones, and the Creed—musically and

liturgically—is embedded within those developments; this is seen by the fact that

Charlemagne promulgated a Greek-texted version of the mass to be sung on Pentecost.

A number of historical confluences shed light on the musical shape of the Gregorian

Credo I, which will be more fully explored in the next chapter. These confluences

comprise the Latin translation favored by Charlemagne and his advisors, including the

filioque clause—an addition Charlemagne personally defended and imposed upon

churches within his domain—as well as Carolingian attempts to supplant the Eastern

Roman (Byzantine) Empire as the “Christian” empire, and a desire to instill clerical

standards of knowledge of the Creed. Ultimately, these different strands of Carolingian

liturgical and political influence find their musical expression in the Gregorian Credo I.

2.1 The Creed in the Liturgy

2.1.1 The Creed in Liturgies of Baptism

2.1.1.1 From the New Testament to Nicaea

In this section, I lay out the evidence that creeds are common to Christian

liturgical history in the rites of baptism. Written testimony as early as the 2nd century,

possibly along with New Testament texts from the 1st century, shows that confession of

faith was part of the rite of entering the church, but that these confessions were in the

form of an interrogation, not a spoken statement. Yet these early baptismal creeds and

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credal formulas are of a different type than the imperial creed that later grew out of the

ecumenical councils of the 4th and 5th centuries. This move from early confessional

baptismal statements to conciliar testaments is the first stage in making the Creed a

musical object, for it was only after the promulgation of conciliar testaments that the

Creed entered the eucharistic liturgy.

Scholars from the 19th and early 20th centuries claimed that the Creed was purely

baptismal in its origin. J.N.D. Kelly cites Hans Lietzmann as stating, “It is indisputable

that the root of all creeds is the formula of belief pronounced by the baptizand, or

pronounced in his hearing and assented to by him, before his baptism.”1 This claim

bears witness to the early link between the formal baptism ceremony and the Creed.

Several New Testament texts show a connection between the confession of faith and

formal entry into the church through baptism:

But an angel of the Lord said to Philip, “Rise and go toward the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.” This is a desert road. And he rose and went. And behold, an Ethiopian, a eunuch, a minister of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of all her treasure, had come to Jerusalem to worship and was returning; seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah. … And the eunuch said to Philip, “About whom, pray, does the prophet say this, about himself or about some one else?” Then Philip opened his mouth, and beginning with this scripture he told him the good news of Jesus. And as they went along the road they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “See, here is water! What is to prevent my being baptized?” And he commanded the

1 Hans Lietzmann, Die Anfänge des Glaubensbekenntnisses (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1921), at 226. Cited in Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 30.

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chariot to stop, and they both went down into the water, Philip and the eunuch, and he baptized him. And when they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord caught up Philip; and the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing. But Philip was found at Azotus, and passing on he preached the gospel to all the towns till he came to Caesarea. (Acts 8:26–28, 34–40, RSV)

The spread of Christianity and the acceptance of baptism is one of the major themes of

Acts, and the eunuch’s baptism fits into that wider setting. The movement here is

exemplary: the eunuch is moved from the (veiled) reading of Hebrew scripture to a

Christological understanding of that same scripture, and ultimately to baptism. The

preparation for baptism thus becomes the right orientation or set of beliefs in reading

scripture. A number of Vulgate manuscripts, including the authoritative 7th-century

Léon palimpsest, contain an additional query after the eunuch’s request for baptism:

“Dixit autem Philippus: Si credis ex toto corde, licet. Et respondens ait: Credo Filium Dei esse Jesum Christum.”2 “But Philip said, ‘If you believe with your whole heart, it is allowed. And responding he said ‘I believe that the son of God is Jesus Christ.’”

As Kelly points out, even though this exchange found in the Vulgate is a later addition,

it corresponds to an early, ante-Nicene understanding of baptism as being predicated on

the confession of faith: “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.”

2 In the Legionensis (Léon palimpsest), the consensus codicum of Alcuin (8th-9th centuries), and the Clementine Vulgate (1592).

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A number of passages from the epistles of the New Testament similarly display

the priority of belief before entry into Christian life in early Christian practice:

• “…if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your

heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Rom. 10:9)

• “take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made

the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” (1 Tim. 6:12b)

• “In him you also, who have heard the word of truth, the gospel of your

salvation, and have believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy

Spirit…” (Eph. 1:13)

These passages show some link between the confession of faith—perhaps even an oral

confession (“with your lips”)—and entrance into the body of believers. Notably,

however, these passages do not mention baptism, nor is baptism implied as a necessity

for membership within that body. Speaking broadly, the act of confession of faith in

Jesus Christ as Son of God is clearly an ancient practice within Christian history.

Despite this apparent link between “confession of faith” and joining with the

Christian community, there are few ante-Nicene witnesses to a verbal confession at

baptism; instead, the earliest Christian witnesses show that the origins of a “Creed” lay

in the question-and-response of a candidate at baptism. Justin Martyr’s (d. 165)

description of baptism, one of the earliest sources which details the liturgical order of

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baptism, omits any reference to a confession of faith.3 Tertullian, writing in north Africa

in the late 2nd and early 3rd centuries, does not give any ceremony for recitation of a

creed, though he does give instances of a declaration of faith; he states that the ceremony

proceeds from the renunciation of the devil to the triple immersion.4 Elsewhere,

Tertullian writes that “When we are going to enter the water … we solemnly profess

that we disown the devil, and his pomp, and his angels.”5 J.N.D. Kelly concludes that

“No one accustomed to working through early baptismal liturgies can doubt that the

sole creed he would have acknowledged was the baptizand’s assenting ‘I believe’ in

answer to the questions put by the baptizer.”6 That is, Tertullian’s language and

descriptions best fits a ceremony that featured questions from the baptizer and answers

by the baptizand, rather than a long declaratory affirmation of faith.

Kelly cites Hippolytus’ Apostolic Tradition (3rd century) as evidence:

And [the presbyter] takes them one by one asking them about their faith. He says “I renounce you, Satan, and all your service and all your works and all your filth.” … When the one being baptized goes down into the waters the one who baptizes, placing a hand on him, should say thus: “Do you believe in God the Father Almighty?” And he who is being baptized should reply: “I believe.” Let him baptize him once immediately, having his hand placed upon his head. And after this he should say: “Do you

3 Justin Martyr, First Apology 61. Justin mentions the instruction of catechumens (they “are instructed to pray and to entreat God with fasting”), and that they are baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but he does not mention any formal recitation of faith as part of this ceremony. 4 Tertullian, De Spectaculis 4. 5 Tertullian, De Corona, 3. 6 J.N.D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 45. Kelly supports the views of Ferdinand Kattenbusch in Das Apostolische Symbol (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1894–1900) and F.J. Dölger, “Zur Symbolik des altchristlichen Taufhauses,” Antike und Christentum 4 (1933): 153–87.

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believe in Christ Jesus, the son of God, who was born of the Holy Spirit and Mary the virgin and was crucified under Pontius Pilate and was dead and buried and rose on the third day alive from the dead …”7

In other words, Hippolytus testifies to the question-and-answer format as being the

earliest formulation for ascertaining someone’s belief at baptism.

The earliest witness of Christian texts show that there was an interrogation of

belief at baptism in the 2nd and early 3rd centuries, but not yet a declaratory or formulaic

Creed. Cyprian of Carthage does mention baptism using a “symbol,” but Kelly

concludes that “’symbol’ possibly [includes] the immersions as well as the triple

interrogations.”8 In other words, the original liturgical function of creeds was as a

recapitulation of oral instruction for adults, an instruction which gradually became

formalized in the third century.9 The catechumens—those being catechized—were

instructed over a long period of time in the rudiments of Christian faith, and the

questions at baptism proved their awareness, attention, and, ultimately, belief.

“Declaratory creeds may therefore be regarded as a by-product of the Church’s fully

developed catechetical system,” concludes Kelly.10 The declaratory creed accreted as a

condensation of the questions and answers with which catechumens were instructed. It

7 Hippolytus, On the Apostolic Tradition, 21. Translation from On the Apostolic Tradition. An English Version with Introduction and Commentary, 2nd ed., ed. and trans. by Alistair C. Stewart (Yonkers: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2015), 133–34. 8 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 45. 9 cf. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 51. 10 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 51.

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was, in fact, the fixing of these back-and-forth exchanges—the process of teaching a

creed and then hearing it recited back—which led to the stabilization of the early creeds

as texts.

2.1.1.2 From Nicaea to the Sixth Century

2.1.1.2.1 The Witness of Egeria Liturgical witnesses from the 4th century show how the interrogation and

profession of faith at baptism had developed into a fixed tradition, the necessary

precursor for the Creed’s entrance into liturgical worship. With the Constantinian

legalization and expansion of Christianity beginning in 312, baptismal rites became

more public and several witnesses show the prominence of a formulaic creed within the

baptismal service. Egeria, also known as Aetheria, is one of the earliest witnesses to the

liturgical practice of Jerusalem. Discovered in 1884 in Arezzo, the Itinerarium Egeriae

preserves the travel diary of Egeria’s three-year journey across the Levant and

Constantinople in the late fourth century. Most scholars favor the years 381–384 for her

journey, though it could be an early 5th-century text. When describing the services of

Easter (Pascha) in Jerusalem, she notes the baptismal services and the presence of the

Creed:

And a chair is immediately placed for the bishop at the Martyrium, in the major church, and all who are to be baptized, both male and female, sit in a circle around the bishop; the “fathers” and the “mothers” stand there also, and also all those of the people who wish to listen—but [only] the faithful—come and sit. A catechumen does not enter there then when the bishop teaches them the law, that is, thus: beginning from Genesis he

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goes through all the Scriptures during those forty days, first explaining them literally and then interpreting them spiritually. They are also taught both about the resurrection and similarly everything about the faith during those days; this is called catechesis. And when five weeks have been completed in which they are taught, then they receive the Creed; he explains to them the meaning of the Creed in a similar way to the meaning of all the Scriptures, each article first literally and then spiritually; so also he explains the Creed. And so it is that in these places all the faithful follow the Scriptures when they are read in church, because they are all taught during those forty days, that is, from the first hour to the third hour, because catechesis is done for three hours. … When seven weeks have passed, there remains that one paschal week that they call here Great Week; then the bishop comes in the morning into the major church at the Martyrium. A chair is placed for the bishop at the back in the apse behind the altar, and there they come one by one, males with their “fathers” and females with their “mothers,” and repeat the Creed to the bishop. After the Creed has been repeated to the bishop, he addresses them all…11

Egeria is probably referring to the teaching of the Creed of Nicaea in its early form,

similar to the Creed taught by Cyril of Jerusalem and mentioned by Augustine and other

4th-century writers as comprising the locus of instruction for catechumens. The amount

of instruction—three hours per day for seven weeks—corroborates the lengthy periods

of instruction given in other catechetical sources like Cyril of Jerusalem.

11 Itinerarium Egeriae 46. Translation from The Pilgrimage of Egeria: A New Translation of the Itinerarium Egeriae with Introduction and Commentary, trans. by Anne McGowan and Paul F. Bradshaw (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2018), 189–91.

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The question of which Creed text these authors are referring to is complex, and I

will cover it in more detail below. The first appearance of the Nicene–

Constantinopolitan Creed—the modern Creed text—is in 451; but its wording does not

emanate from those councils (Nicaea, held in 325, and Constantinople, held in 381).

Jungmann refers to the Nicene–Constantinopolitan symbol as a “draft of a profession

which, of all the various forms in use in the episcopal cities of the East, gained the

widest acceptance… .”12 Any of these references, as in Egeria, to “the Creed” before 451

do not refer to a universally standardized text.

2.1.1.2.2 Baptismal Catechesis in East and West Texts from the 4th and 5th century detail the development of the Creed as a text

taught for baptism; this is one of the important stepping stones in the development and

promulgation of the Nicene Creed and its integration into liturgical worship. All of these

textual witnesses show the importance of memorizing the Creed, and its necessarily

unwritten status; it is foundational because it is memorized and handed down through

oral instruction. As Egeria witnesses, declaratory creeds were an integral part of

baptismal liturgies from the 4th century onwards, continuing the tradition of the ante-

Nicene baptismal rites discussed above. Several catechetical homilies survive from the

fourth and fifth centuries in which the catechist—usually the local bishop—details the

main points of Christian belief. J.N.D. Kelly writes that, “Whatever other uses they may

12 Jungmann, vol. 1, 462.

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have been put to in the course of history, the true and original use of creeds, their

primary raison d’être, was to serve as solemn affirmations of faith in the context of

baptismal initiation.”13 The teaching (traditio, or handing down) and restatement

(redditio) of the Creed were documented in early baptismal liturgies in both East and

West. Augustine details this process in his Confessions (written in 400):

Finally the hour came for [Victorinus] to make the profession of faith which is expressed in set form. At Rome these words are memorized and then by custom recited from an elevated place before the baptized believers by those who want to come to your grace. Simplicianus used to say that the presbyters offered him the opportunity of affirming the creed in private, as was their custom to offer to people who felt embarrassed or afraid. But he preferred to make profession of his salvation before the holy congregation. For there was no salvation in the rhetoric which he had taught; yet his profession of that had been public. … He proclaimed his unfeigned faith with ringing assurance.14

In this scene the creedal confession of Victorinus, a former pagan instructor of rhetoric,

is the climax of his baptism; the creed acts as a public statement of his acceptance of

Christian truth. Victorinus had memorized his confession. The redditio was not written

down, as Augustine notes. It was frequently referred to among early Christian writers as

one of the arcane disciplines (disciplina arcani)—a secret, known only by baptized

Christians. This “hidden” nature of the Creed is still preserved within the liturgy of the

Eastern Orthodox church, in which the catechumens are formally dismissed before the

13 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 31. 14 Confessions 8.2.5. Translation from Saint Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 136–37.

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recitation of the Creed.15 It is possible that there is a link between this insistence on

memorization from the early centuries and the later requirements for clergy of

memorization of the Creed mandated by Charlemagne, and even later insistence on

memorization by laypeople in the 13th century (explored in Chapter Four).

In the Catechetical Lectures of Cyril of Jerusalem, delivered probably around 350,

Cyril details the teaching of the Creed to the Catechumens during Lent, the traditional

time for instructing those desiring baptism. At baptism proper, after renouncing Satan

the candidates professed, “I believe in the Father, and in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit,

and in one baptism of repentance.”16 This proto-Creed was probably an abridgment, a

placeholder for the longer Creed which Cyril had commented on, line by line. A

placeholder was written instead because, again, the Creed still was not written down.

Cyril gives a prologue to his instruction of the creed:

For since all cannot read the Scriptures, some being hindered as to the knowledge of them by lack of learning, and others by a lack of available time, in order that the soul may not perish from ignorance, we comprise the whole doctrine of the Faith in a few lines. This summary I wish you both to commit to memory when I recite it, and to rehearse it with all diligence among yourselves; do not write it out on paper, but engrave it by the memory upon your heart, taking care while you rehearse it that no Catechumen chance to overhear the things which have been delivered to you.17

15 This custom goes back to at least the fourth century; cf. Hugh Wybrew, The Orthodox Liturgy: The Development of the Eucharistic Liturgy in the Byzantine Rite (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1989), 39. 16 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 33; Cyril of Jerusalem, The Catechetical Lectures 5.12. 17 Cyril does not refer to candidates for baptism as catechumens, but as believers; thus his warning here is addressed to those at the ultimate stage of pre-baptismal instruction.

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I wish you also to keep this as a provision through the whole course of your life, and beside this to receive no other … . So for the present listen while I simply say the Creed, and commit it to memory; but at the proper season expect the confirmation out of Holy Scripture of each part of the contents. …Take heed then, brethren, and hold fast the traditions which ye now receive, and write them on the table of your heart.18

Cyril treats the Creed as “comprising the whole doctrine of the Faith in a few lines,” and

as a “summary” of Scripture. The main thrust of his teaching is that the Creed presents

the whole “knowledge” (gnosis) of the Scriptures, and it is this knowledge—spiritual

knowledge—which is the aim of his catechesis.

St Augustine, in his “Sermon on the Handing Down of the Creed” (Sermon 212),

has advice similar to Cyril:

You will recognize that, in this short sermon of mine, all that you will hear in the Creed has been summarized. You should not write it out in any way, but, so as to hold the exact words of the Creed, learn it by listening. Not even when you have learned it should you write it down, but, rather, always hold it and cherish it in your memory. For whatever you will hear in the Creed is contained in the inspired books of the holy Scriptures.19

Writing a few decades later than Cyril, Augustine adopts the same position as to the

writing and memorization of the Creed, as well as its function as a summary of the

18 The Catechetical Lectures 5.12, adapted from translation in NPNF 2.7:32. He alludes to 2 Cor. 3:3 in his final statement. 19 Augustine, Sermon 212.2. Translation in Sermons on the liturgical seasons, trans. Mary Sarah Muldowney (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1959), 117–121.

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Scriptures. The liturgical function of the Creed remains as a pre-baptismal confession of

the baptizand’s belief.

The esteem with which Cyril and Augustine treat the Creed is evident as well in

other surviving catechetical homilies from the fourth century, including Theodore of

Mopsuestia (c.350–428) and John Chrysostom (d.407).20 While Chrysostom’s “Eight

Baptismal Catecheses” are not focused on the Creed as Cyril’s catechesis was, he does

mention the importance of learning the Creed before baptism in other homilies.21 In

commenting on 1 Corinthians 15:29—“What do people mean by being baptized on

behalf of the dead?”—Chrysostom brings to mind the hearers’ own baptism:

I wish to remind you who are initiated of the response, which on that evening they who introduce you to the mysteries bid you make; and then I will also explain the saying of Paul: so this likewise will be clearer to you; we after all the other things adding this which Paul now says.22

In other words, Chrysostom will proceed with his analysis of that passage by appealing

to the Creed, the “response” they are bid to make.

Theodore of Mopsuestia (c.350–428), a Syriac theologian posthumously

condemned as a heretic under dubious circumstances, also speaks about the seriousness

20 See Hugh M. Riley, Christian Initiation: A Comparative Study of the Interpretation of the Baptismal Liturgy in the Mystagogical Writings of Cyril of Jerusalem, John Chrysostom, Theodore of Mopsuestia and Ambrose of Milan (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1974). 21 Jean Chrysostome, Huit Catéchèses Baptismales Inédites, trans. and ed. by Antoine Wenger. Sources Chrétiennes 50bis (Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf, 1970). 22 Homily 40 on 1 Corinthians, in NPNF 1.12:244.

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of the learning of the Creed within its baptismal context. In the first of his commentaries

on the Creed, he states:

Now which is the faith and which are the promises through which we have our part in mysteries in the hope of these heavenly gifts in which we will delight? These are found in the profession of faith which we make before Christ our Lord at the time of our baptism. If it were possible to comprehend their power by hearing only, our words would have been useless, because their mere recitation would have made them understood by those who heard them. Since, however, there is much power hidden in them—as our holy Fathers confided to us from the gift of God an ineffable treasure condensed in words which are easy to learn and to remember—it is necessary to teach those who are about to receive these mysteries and to show them the sense and the meaning that are hidden in them. When they have learnt the greatness of the gift to which they wish to make their approach, and have understood the meaning of their religion and their promises for the sake of which they receive such a great gift, they will keep with diligence in their souls the faith which has been handed down to them.23

Theodore’s exhortation again remarks on the memorization of the Creed before baptism,

and the necessity of explaining the Creed beyond the mere “surface” of its words.

2.1.1.2.3 The Recitation of the Creed at Baptism After the 6th Century in the Greek East In the centuries after these catechetical writers, the Creed became established as

the text of baptism. There is no definite point at which we can point to the Creed

becoming the official text of baptism, rather than these orally-instructed memorized

traditions, but a number of textual witnesses point to this shift as being fixed by the 6th

23 Commentary on the Nicene Creed, Chapter 1. Theodore of Mopsuestia, Commentary of Theodore of Mopsuestia on the Lord’s Prayer and on the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist, trans. Alphonse Mingana. Woodbrooke Studies, Vol. 6 (Cambridge: W. Heffer & Sons, 1933), 18.

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century. Theological controversies in the 5th century pushed the Creed into the center of

theological discourse; various groups appealed to the Creed promulgated by the

councils of the 4th century as the sine qua non of orthodox belief. Specifically, the Creed of

Constantinople, which derived from the earlier Nicene Creed, was a standard feature at

rites of baptismal initiation by the late 5th century. The Encyclical of emperor Basiliscus

(475) shows the prominence of the official Creed in baptism:

τουτέστι τὸ Σύµβολον τῶν τιη ἁγίων Πατέρων τῶν ἐν Νικαίᾳ πάλαι µετὰ τοῦ ἁγίου Πνεύµατος ἐκκλησιασθέντων, εἰς ὅ ἡµεῖς τε καὶ πάντες ὁι πρὸ ἡµῶν πιστεύσαντες, ἐβαπτίσθηµεν, µόνον πολιτεύεσθαι…

… namely, the symbol of the three hundred and eighteen holy fathers who were assembled, in concert with the Holy Spirit, at Nicaea, into which both ourselves and all our believing predecessors were baptised… .24

Similarly, soon after Basiliscus, the emperor Zeno’s Henoticon (482)—a document

attempting to bring together rival theological parties in the empire—also mentions the

Creed of Nicaea and Constantinople as the requirement for baptism:

For this reason, we were anxious that you should be informed, that we and the churches in every quarter neither have held, nor do we or shall we hold, nor are we aware of persons who hold, any other symbol or lesson or definition of faith or creed than the before-mentioned holy symbol of the three hundred and eighteen holy fathers, which the aforesaid hundred and fifty holy fathers confirmed; and if any person does hold such, we deem him an alien: for we are confident that this symbol alone is, as we said, the preserver of our sovereignty, and on their reception of this

24 Evagrius Scholasticus’ Ecclesiastical History, PG 86b:2600B; English translation from The Ecclesiastical History of Evagrius in Six Books, trans. E. Walford (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons, 1846), 123.

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alone are all the people baptised when desirous of the saving illumination… .25

We see here that by the late 5th century the Creed was certainly part of the baptismal

rites in the East. One more witness shows that the linking of the official Creed text and

baptism was complete in the 5th century. John Cassian (c.360–c.435) refutes the Pelagian

and Nestorian heresies by appeal to the so-called Creed of Antioch in his polemic On the

Incarnation. He states that his unnamed opponent was “baptized and regenerated” into

this short Creed, yet forsook its belief.26 While it is possible that the explicit recitation of

the Creed at baptism was established already in the 4th century, the theological

controversies of the 5th century brought a heavy emphasis on fidelity to the Creed of

Nicaea, thus leading to these polemical witnesses.

2.1.1.3 The Recitation of the Creed at Baptism after the 6th Century in the Latin West

All of the examples of the Creed at baptism, however, apply only to the Greek-

speaking East; only in the 6th century did the Creed text of Nicaea–Constantinople move

beyond the bounds of the Greek-speaking lands as a baptismal text. Despite the

apparent universality and diversity of recitations of a creed before baptism in the 4th and

25 The Ecclesiastical History of Evagrius in Six Books, 137. 26 Cassian, On the Incarnation 6.3, in NPNF 2.11:592. The full text of the Creed he cites: “I believe in one and the only true God, the Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son, and the first-born of every creature, begotten of Him before all worlds, and not made: Very God of Very God, Being of one substance with the Father: By whom both the worlds were framed, and all things were made. Who for us came, and was born of the Virgin Mary, and was crucified under Pontius Pilate and was buried: and the third day He rose again according to the Scripture: and ascended into heaven, and shall come again to judge the quick and the dead, etc.”

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5th centuries, the “official” imperial Creed of Nicaea–Constantinople came to dominate

all baptismal practices—not only those of the Byzantine lands, but of the Levantine,

African, and Roman traditions as well—by the mid-6th century. There was a measure of

resistance from Western Latin Christians to the imposition of the Nicene–

Constantinopolitan Creed, and that Creed only found its place in the Latin West because

of reactions to heresies. Particularly thorny in the West was the addition of the

expansive Constantinopolitan articles, which were amended at the Ecumenical Council

in Constantinople in 381, which some Latin theologians considered non-essential. In fact,

the 15th Encyclical of the “Byzantine” Pope Vigilius, written in 552, is probably the first

Latin text to specifically refer to the Creed of Nicaea and Constantinople as

“ecumenical,” meaning it reached beyond the bounds of the Greek-speaking church of

the East, according to Kelly and Harnack.27

The 8th-century Gelasian Sacramentary provides the full Greek text of the

Constantinopolitan Creed as an option for those being baptized, but that does not mean

the full Latin text was accepted liturgically.28 Furthermore, the earliest liturgical uses of

the full Constantinopolitan Creed in Latin are found in the 8th-century Gelasian

27 The “Byzantine” popes are called so because the Roman popes from 537 to 752 required the approval of the Byzantine emperor for enthronement. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 346. See also Adolf Harnack, “Constantinopolitan Creed,” in Schaff’s Religious Encyclopedia (Schaff-Herzog) Vol 3, 259. 28 The Gelasian Sacramentary: Liber Sacramentorum Romanae Ecclesiae, ed. HA. Wilson (Oxford: Clarendon, 1894), 53. “Qua lingua confitentur Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum? R: Graece. … Et dicit acolytus Symbolum Graece decantando…”

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Sacramentary and the 6th-century Ordo Romanus VII.29 Some other later sources (like the

10th-century Codex Sessorianus 52) also give the full Constantinopolitan text in Latin for

the baptismal rites of the Roman church.

Harnack observes that the Creed of Nicaea–Constantinople (or, effectively, the

Creed of Constantinople) faced difficulty being accepted in the West because of political

and theological infighting. He states:

While the reverent reception of the creed in the West cannot be clearly shown before the middle third of the sixth century, it increased with remarkable rapidity, once the formula was regarded as the production of a council now recognized as ecumenical [i.e., the Council of Constantinople in 381], and had been raised to the rank of a baptismal creed by the Roman and Spanish churches, partly owing to the need of a strong defense against Visigothic Arianism.30

Thus is it reasonable to surmise that the infiltration of the Constantinopolitan Creed into

baptismal services happened—as with the early history of the Creed in general—in

reaction to the spreading and teaching of heresy.

29 PL 78, 997: “Qua lingua confitentur Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum? Respondet: Graece. Annuntia fidem ipsorum qualiter credunt. Et dicit acolythus Symbolum Graece, decantando his verbis, Πιστεύω εἰς ¨ενα. Hoc expletum, vertit se ad feminas, et facit similiter. Iterum acolythus alter accipiens ex Latinis infantibus tuum in sinistro brachio, ponens manum dextram super caput ipsius, et interroget ei presbyter: Qua lingua confitentur? Sicut prius, et respondet, “Latine.” Dicit ei presbyter: Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, visibilium. Hoc explectum, vertit se ad feminas, et facit similiter.” 30 Harnack, “Constantinopolitan Creed,” 259.

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From around the turn of the first millennium, there is evidence that the Creed at

baptism was recited in either Greek or Latin, or both. Honorius of Autun (c.1080–1154)

bears witness to this tradition:

Credo in unum Deum super masculos Graece, super feminas Latine decantatur, quia per duas has omnis lingua denotatur. Graeci quippe omnes gentes philosophia praecellebant; Romani autem omnibus gentibus imperabant. Per Graecam ergo linguam sapientes, per Latinam accipiuntur principes. Graece itaque et Latine fides canitur, quia omnis lingua Domino confitebitur. His rite preactis de Ecclesia exeunt, quia mysteriis Christi interesse, nec inter filios Dei computari poterunt, qui adhuc in Christo regnante non sunt.31

“Credo in unum Deum” is intoned in Greek over the males, in Latin over the females, because every language is implied by these two. The Greeks, of course, excelled all nations in philosophy; the Romans, however, ruled over all nations. Through the Greek language, therefore, they are received as wise people, through the Latin language as rulers. Accordingly, the faith is sung in Latin and in Greek, because every tongue will confess to the Lord.

This gendered use of Greek and Latin is common in several medieval liturgical sources.32

Augustine Thompson, for example, describes a Sienese Ordo which details the

confirmation of children into the Catholic Church. After being presented at the chancel-

screen door, the priest read the Apostles’ Creed in Latin over boys, and in Greek over

girls; the Lord’s Prayer was also said in both languages for the respective genders.33 The

precise significance of this tradition is unclear, and the gendered meanings of the

31 PL 172:661. My translation. 32 This probably relates to the Bamberg Credo mentioned in chapter three which features both Latin and Greek Credos. 33 Augustine Thompson, Cities of God: The Religion of the Italian Communes, 1125–1325 (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2005), 317.

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different languages may relate to other medieval linguistic traditions. Still, Honorius

shows that the place of the Creed within baptism continued to be an important locus of

liturgical change.

There is another musical implication involving the Greek and Latin Creeds

which is beyond the scope of this chapter, though it deserves full treatment: in the wake

of the fall of Constantinople in 1453, more Greek-texted music and musical allusions

appear in Western manuscripts and sources. Prominent examples include a three-voiced

Greek Easter hymn appearing in the Faenza Codex, Italian manuscripts bearing

polyphonic renderings of Greek hymnody by Greek composers, and polyphonic Latin

masses with Greek allusions, such as Obrecht’s Missa Graecorum, probably written in the

1490s.34

By the 8th century in both the Greek East and Latin West, the Creed was the

center of baptism, both as a teaching tool and a public profession of faith; its place

within the baptismal rites can be seen in the earliest centuries of liturgical initiation as a

form of question-and-answer, and then as an instruction into the mysteries of the

Christian faith, and ultimately as the reified, and still-used version we have of the

Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed recited at baptism.

34 See especially Pedro Memelsdorff, “Cantus grecus: Greek liturgy “more latinorum” in the Codex Faenza 117,” in Mondo latino e civiltà bizantina: Musica, arte e cultura nei codici del ‘400, ed. Antonio Lovato and Dilva Princivalli (Padova: Cleup, 2014), 203–223, and Dimitri Conomos, “Experimental Polyphony, ‘According to the … Latins’, in Late Byzantine Psalmody,” Early Music History 2 (1982):1–16.

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2.1.2 The Creed in the Eucharistic Liturgy

2.1.2.1 The Eucharistic Liturgy in the Greek East

In order to understand and appreciate the musical and liturgical significance of

the Creed in the mass, it is useful to understand how it got there. The story involves

arcane details of theological disputes of the fifth century, but the broad arc is important

for understanding the liturgical place of the musical creed, as well as for highlighting

again another instance of the Creed marking doctrinal orthodoxy. Accordingly, this

section details how the Creed moved from beyond the rite of baptism into the central

liturgical service of Christian worship, that of the Eucharist. In the early 6th century the

Creed became an affirmation of common faith within the Eucharistic celebration in the

Greek East, a practice followed centuries later in the later West. This insertion into the

main service of the Christian liturgical cycle dramatically changed the stature of the

Creed. As noted above, the Creed is not a liturgical prayer, but a statement of belief;

insertion into the liturgy blurs the boundary between prayer and statement of faith.

J.N.D. Kelly remarks on this change for the Creed:

The victorious career of the Constantinopolitan Creed was not to be confined within the limits of the baptismal service. Important as was its role in the initiation of Christian catechumens, this was destined to be overshadowed by a function still more impressive and more intimately bound up with the believer’s daily life. C [=the Constantinopolitan Creed] was promoted, in the short space of a few decades in the East, and in the West by a series of moves spread over several centuries, from Baptism to the Holy Eucharist, and so became the creed par excellence of Christian worship. This was a revolutionary innovation, for in its original and authentic

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shape the eucharistic liturgy had contained no formal, independent confession of belief. When circumstances prompted the inclusion of one, C with its majestic phrases and stately rhythm seemed almost pre-ordained for the role.35

As Kelly states, the interpolation of the Creed into the Eucharistic liturgy was

momentous from a liturgical point of view. Up to the time of its introduction in the early

6th century there was no formal declaration of faith as part of the eucharistic assembly,

and its place in the Byzantine liturgy “broke the intimate liturgical link between the

bringing in of the bread and wine and the prayer by which they were offered and

consecrated.”36 That is, it was interpolated at a point which interrupts the dramatic

pinnacle of the Eucharistic liturgy—the reception of the gifts (offertory) and the blessing

of those gifts (canon or anaphora). That such an interruption into the movement of

liturgy was tolerated and still is tolerated shows how the fear of heresy had risen to a

high level.

The Creed was imported into the Eucharistic liturgy in the midst of a theological

and political controversy in Constantinople, but the actual detail of its importation into

the Eucharistic assembly “is involved in obscurities,” as Edmund Bishop noted in the

early 20th century.37 The Creed was possibly brought into the Eucharistic liturgy in

Antioch c.489, decades earlier than it was used in the capital city of Constantinople; a

35 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 348. 36 Wybrew, The Orthodox Liturgy, 86. 37 Edmund Bishop, “Liturgical Comments and Memoranda,” Journal of Theological Studies 12 (1911), 384–413, at 387 n.2.

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note in Theodore the Lector’s Ecclesiasticae Historiae, concerning Peter the Fuller

(Πέτρος ὁ Κναφεύς) states,

Καὶ ἐν πάσῃ Συνάξει τὸ Σύµβολον λέγεσθαι.

And in every Synaxis [i.e., Eucharistic assembly] the Symbol [was] said.38

Bernard Capelle considered this passage a dubious addition to Theodore’s text.39

Nevertheless, the introduction of the Creed to the liturgy at Antioch does not seem to

have been permanent, and the Antiochene liturgical Creed was not as influential as the

introduction of the Creed in Constantinople.40 In the same work, Theodore the Lector

states:

Τιµόθεος τὸ τῶν τριακοσίων δέκα καὶ ὀτκὼ Πατέρων τῆς πίστεως Σύµβολον, καθ᾽ἑκάστην Σύναξιν λέγεσθαι παρεσκεύασεν, ἐπὶ διαβολῇ δῆθεν Μακεδονίου, ὡς αὐτοῦ µὴ δεχοµένου τὸ Σύµβολον; ἅπαξ τοῦ ἔτους λεγόµενον πρότερον ἐν τῇ ἀγίᾳ Παρασκευῇ τοῦ θείου πάθους, τῷ καιρῷ τῶν γινοµένων ὑπὸ τοῦ ἐπισκόπου κατηχήσεων.41

Timothy prepared the Symbol of Faith of the three-hundred eighty fathers to be read in every synaxis, really against the slander of the Macedonians, as they did not accept the Symbol. It was at one time, in a bygone year being spoken on the Holy Friday of the Passion of God, at which time the ones about to be baptized [lit., “born”] were catechized by the bishop.

38 PG 86a, 209A (EH 2.48). My translation. 39Bernard Capelle, “L’introduction du symbole à la messe,” in Mélanges Joseph de Ghellinck, S.J., vol. 2 (Gembloux : Duculot, 1951), 1003–1027, and Robert Taft, The Great Entrance: A History of the Transfer of Gifts and Other Preanaphoral Rites of the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom (Roma: Pont. Institutum Studiorum Orientalum, 1975), 398. 40 See Anton Baumstark, Die Messe im Morgenland (Kempten und München: J. Kösel, 1906), 174–5. Baumstark writes: “Die Quellen des vierten und der großeren Halfte des funften Jahrhunderts sind mit demselben noch unbekannt. In Antiocheia hat der monophysitisch gesinnte Patriarch Petrus, genannt der Walker (476–488), in Konstantinopel sogar erst einige Jahrzehnte spater der Patriarch Timotheos (512–518) die Sitte eingefuhrt, es in jeder Messe zu rezitieren. Der Pseudo-Areiopagite fetzt dieselbe bereits voraus, und etwa seit der Mitte des sechsten Jahrhunderts durfte sie allgemein sein.” Also see Bernard Capelle, “L’introduction du symbole à la messe,” 1004. 41 PG 86a 201 (EH 2.32). My translation.

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The political and theological background of Timothy’s introduction of the Creed into the

Eucharistic liturgy probably goes back to the decision of Peter the Fuller, and further

back to the ecumenical Council of Chalcedon, convened in 451 in a suburb of

Constantinople. The 451 Council of Chalcedon was itself called as a political and

theological corrective to controversies of the early 5th century, notably centering around

the theological language for talking about Christ.42 A truce existed in the wake of the 431

Council of Ephesus between the two main extreme parties: Cyril of Alexandria and the

Alexandrian party emphasized the union of humanity and divinity in Christ, the

extreme version of which was called monophysitism (“one nature” in Greek), while

Nestorius and the Antiochene party emphasized a more rational division between the

human and divine natures in Christ, the extreme version of which was called

Nestorianism or “radical dyophysitism” (“two natures” Greek).

Cyril of Alexandria died in 444, however, and in the wake of his death the

theological parties moved to further extremes. Following several local councils and

further controversies, the Empress Pulcheria called the bishops of the church to

assemble at Chalcedon in 451 to settle the disputes.43 Unfortunately, and not

surprisingly, theological divisions continued to rend the church apart and various

42 See Chapter 6 of John Meyendorff’s Imperial Unity and Christian Divisions, entitled “The Council of Chalcedon and its Aftermath” (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1988), 165—206. 43 Meyendorff, Imperial Unity, 167.

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bishops most often claimed allegiance to one of the extreme parties. Thus, the Patriarch

of Antioch Peter the Fuller, already mentioned for introducing the Creed into the

Eucharistic liturgy at Antioch in the 480s, was a monophysite. His deference to the

Creed of Nicaea was a conservative overreaction to credal statements and formulas of

the 5th century; in other words, from the monophysite point of view, nothing further

could be said about the theological controversy than what was said by the bishops of

Nicaea in 325.44 The Creed of Nicaea was indeed a touchpoint in the theological debates

of the late 5th century, with various parties claiming fidelity to the “original” Creed

which unified the church.45

A wave of anti-Chalcedonian monophysitism controlled much of the imperial

church in the late 5th and early 6th centuries.46 Under increasing pressure from the

monophysites, the Chalcedonian bishop of Constantinople, Macedonius II, was deposed

and replaced by Timothy, who “showed more lenience towards the Monophysites.”47

According to Gregory Dix, “Timothy… at once introduced the monophysite practice of

reciting the Nicene Creed into the liturgy of Constantinople, in order to secure the

political support of the monophysite emperor and the federalist party generally.”48

44 I will discuss the problematic nature of the text of the Creed below, but the Creed of Nicaea was not the one used by these bishops in the 5th century. 45 John Meyendorff, Imperial Unity, 198–99. 46 John Behr, The Case Against Diodore and Theodore: Texts and their Contexts (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 101–103. John Meyendorff, Imperial Unity, 203–204. Also see Volker L. Menze, Justinian and the Making of the Syrian Orthodox Church (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008). 47 John Meyendorff, Imperial Unity, 204. 48 Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London: Dacre, 1945), 486, cited in Taft, The Great Entrance, 399.

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Yet when the Monophysite bishops were ousted in 536 and an orthodox bishop

assumed leadership, the Creed remained within the Eucharistic liturgy, “recited

according to custom.”49 That is, the Creed’s place within the Eucharistic liturgy was so

popular among the Constantinopolitan Christians that, even though it was instituted by

heretical bishops, the orthodox bishops kept it in place.50

2.1.2.2 The Creed in the Latin Mass

Within the rites of Western Christianity, the Creed entered the Eucharistic liturgy

more slowly than in the East. It first appears in the Mass in late sixth-century Spain,

where the Visigothic king pressured the local synod of bishops to insert the Creed in

response to the encroaching heresy of Arianism in his kingdom.51 King Reccared I

(r.586–601) called the Third Council of Toledo in 589; the second chapter of the acts of

that council pronounced:

Pro reverentia sanctissimae fidei, et propter corroborandas hominum invalidas mentes, consultu pissimi et gloriosissimi domini nostri Reccaredi regis, sancta constituit synodus, ut per omnes ecclesias ispaniae, vel Gallaeciae, secundum formam orientalium ecclesiarum, concilii Constantinopolitani, hoc est, centum quinquaginta episcoporum symbolum fidei recitetur: ut priusquam dominica dicatur oratio, voce

For the reverence of the holy faith, and in order to strengthen the weak intelligences, having consulted our very glorious Lord King Reccared, the council decides that, by all the churches of Spain and Galicia one will recite, according to the use of the Eastern churches, the symbol of faith of the Council of Constantinople, that is to say of the 150 bishops. So that, before saying the Lord’s Prayer, this symbol is sung aloud by the

49 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 350; cf. Mansi 8, col.1057-1065. 50 cf. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 349–50. 51 See Philippe Bernard, “Quadrata Confessio: Les ‘Messes de Mone’ et la recitation du Credo à la messe dans la gaule de l’antiquité tardive,” Revue des Sciences Philosophiques et Théologiques 82 (1998):431–443.

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clara a populo decantetur; quo et fides vera manisestum testimonium habeat, et ad Christi corpus et sanguinem praelibandum pectora populorum fide purificata accedant.52

people. Thus the true doctrine will receive a public witness, and Christians advancing to receive the body and blood of Christ, will have their hearts purified by faith.

The location of the Creed within the Mass indicated in this Capitulum—before the

Lord’s Prayer—does not align with the practice of the Eastern church, which places it

before the anaphora or Eucharistic canon. But this difference (or innovation) in liturgical

location is confirmed in the early Mozarabic liturgy:

Inlatione quoque explicita, respondendum est a clero: Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus. Ad Confractionem uero panis, dicitur hec antiphona tribus uicibus: Memor esto nostri, Christe, in regno tuo, et dignos fac nos de Resurrectione tua. Postea Simbolum. Ad Accendentes enim dicitur hec antiphona cum prenotatis uersibus de Euangelio: Desiderio desideraui hoc Pascha.53

The text of the symbol was not included in those early acts, however. Only 64 years

later, at the Eighth Council of Toledo in 653, was the precise Latin text of the Credo

reified and promulgated by church authorities.

Tunc primae narrationis exortu, verae fidei nobis tractatus occurrit: ut incipientes de illa primitus loqui, inde

Then with the rising of the first narration, there occurs for us a treatment of the true faith: so that, beginning to speak first of

52 Mansi 9, col.992. 53 Le Liber Ordinum en Usage dans L’Église Wisigothique et Mozarabe d’Espagne du cinquième au onzième siècle, ed. M. Férotin (Paris: Librairie de Firmin-Didot, 1904), col. 191 ll.6–17.

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soliditatis auspicemur exordium, unde sacrae sumpsimus nativitatis initium. Quatenus assertionum nostrarum forti praemissa sententia, quidquid subsequenter advenerit de actis negotiorum, fortius subsistere valeat seriem decretorum. Itaque unius sacrae fidei veram professionem, veramque regulam tenere, nos tota virtute animi et profitemur, et acclamamus, cunctisque percipiendam, ac retinendam plena deliberatione incessanter praedicamus et pandimus; sicut a sanctis apostolis ostenta docetur, sicut a sequentibus patribus orthodoxis disserta probatur, sicut etiam in sanctis illis synodalibus gestis verissime confirmata dignoscitur; in quibus Arii, Macedonii, Nestorii, vel Eutychetis insanissimus error et dilucide proditur, et radicitus extirpatur; sicut denique in sacris missarum solennitatibus concordi voce profitemur, ac dicimus. Credimus in unum Deum Patrem omnipotentem…54

all concerning this, from there we make a good introduction of the entirety, from whence we have taken up the commencement of the sacred nativity. To the extent that the thought of our assertions has been strongly sent ahead, whatever subsequently will arrive from the acts of the affairs, the more strongly it will prevail to support the series of decrees. And so the true profession of the one sacred faith, and the holding of the true rule, we with the whole strength of our soul also profess, and we acclaim; and that it must be perceived by all, and must be preserved with full deliberation, we unceasingly proclaim and explain; just as it is taught, having been revealed by the holy apostles; just as it is proved, having been discussed by the following orthodox fathers; just as also it is discerned, having been most truly confirmed in in those holy synodal acts; in which the most insane error of Arius, Macedonius, Nestorius, and Eutyches is also clearly recorded, and pulled out from the very roots; just as, finally, in the sacred solemnities of masses we with harmonious voice confess, and say. We believe in one God, Father almighty...

There is evidence in the Stowe Missal (or sacramentary), an early 9th-century Irish

manuscript containing the texts for the Mass, funerary rites, baptism, and a commentary

on the Mass, that the Creed entered the Irish liturgy at some point in the eighth century;

54 Mansi 10, col. 1210B.

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the Stowe Missal places the Creed after the gospel, but its Latin translation is rather

idiosyncratic (see below).55

In the late eighth century, the Creed entered the eucharistic liturgy of

Charlemagne’s court at Aachen, from where it spread throughout the Roman Catholic

world. The location of the Creed within the Eucharistic liturgy—recited after the reading

of the gospel—is probably a relic of Irish usage which Alcuin brought to Aachen from

York. In both the Greek and Spanish liturgies, the Creed was recited before the

Eucharistic canon, rather than after the gospel, so its location within the Carolingian

mass implies a different origin. The Stowe Missal includes the Creed at the same point in

the service as in the Frankish Eucharist (after the reading of the gospel). There is,

however, no mention of the Creed within the commentary section. The text of the Stowe

Creed is included in Appendix A: Ancient Creeds, in comparison to other Latin and

Greek creeds.

The exact date of the official addition of the Credo to the Roman rite of the Mass

is unclear, though it was probably in 1014. Abbot Berno of Richeneau relates the story in

his Libellus de quibusdam rebus ad missae officium pertinentibus of the visit of the emperor

Henry II to Pope Benedict VIII.56 There was, in fact, a severe background to this meeting,

as Henry II was in the process of asserting Frankish-Norman authority on Italian soil,

55 The Stowe Missal, ed. George F. Warner (London, 1915: The Henry Bradshaw Society). 56 PL 142, col. 1060–61; cf. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 357.

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usurping the existing Byzantine governance in many parts of Italy (especially Calabria

and southern Italy). The papacy of the 11th century was facing increasing pressure to

come under the influence of the Frankish emperors; indeed, the papacy responded to

this pressure partially by reforming itself in a more “imperial” model, as shown by the

reforms of Gregory VIII. Berno states that he was a witness to hearing Henry express his

shock at not hearing the Creed recited at the rite of the Mass in Rome. Benedict

responded that it had never been the custom in the church of Rome, because the Creed

was meant to safeguard against heresy, and the Roman church had never succumbed to

heresy. In the 8th century, Leo III (r. 795–816) had resisted the imposition of the Creed in

the Roman mass by Charlemagne, preferring to keep silent on controversial theological

matters. Nevertheless, at Henry’s insistence, Pope Benedict added the Creed—including

the filioque clause, caving to the innovation which Leo III had resisted—to the Roman

Mass. Perhaps as a way of indicating its non-liturgical origin within the Roman liturgy,

the Roman rite only admitted the Creed into the liturgy of Sundays and select feast days.

Berno of Reichenau transmits the story thus:

Nam si ideo, ut saepe dictum, illum angelicum hymnum prohibemur in festivis diebus canere eo quod Romanorum presbyteri non solent eum canere, possumus simili modo post Evangelium symbolum reticere, quod Romani usque ad haec tempora divae memoriae Henrici imperatoris nullo modo cecinerunt.

For if therefore, as is often said, we are prohibited to sing the angelic hymn on festive days because the Roman priests are not accustomed to singing it, we are able in a similar way after the gospel to refrain from singing the Symbol, which the Romans never sang even up to the times of the divine memory of emperor Henry.

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Sed an eodem interrogati cur ita agerent, me coram assistente, audivi eos hujusmodi responsum reddere, videlicet, quod Romana Ecclesia non fuisset aliquando ulla haereseos faece infecta, sed secundum sancti Petri doctrinam in soliditate catholicae fidei permaneret inconcussa:

et ideo magis his necessarium esse illud symbolum saepius cantando frequentare, qui aliquando ulla haeresi potuerunt maculari.

At dominus imperator non antea desiit quam omnium consensu id domino Benedicto apostolico persuasit, ut ad publicam missam illud decantarent.

Sed utrum hanc consuetudinem servent adhuc affirmare non possimus, quia certum non tenemus.

But being asked by the said emperor in my presence why this was their practice, I heard him in this manner render a response, clearly, that the Roman Church had never been infected with the dregs of any heresy, but according to the doctrine of saint Peter was remaining unshaken in the solidity of the Catholic faith:

And so it was more necessary for that symbol to be sung more often by those who were able to be tainted by heresy.

But the lord emperor did not desist until with general agreement he persuaded the apostolic lord Benedict, that at the public mass [the Symbol] should be chanted.

But whether this custom preserves thus far we are not able to affirm, because we do not possess that which is certain.57

Berno’s story calls to mind the concern with heresy surrounding the 6th-century

introduction of the Creed to the Greek liturgy, as well as later controversies which took

hold of the Creed as a marker of orthodoxy.

57 PL 142:1060D—1061A; my translation, based on Kelly, 357. It is possible that the point of the disagreement was over the chanting (“decantarent”) at the “public mass” (ad publicam missam). For example, 21 manuscripts in the CANTUS database <cantus.uwaterloo.ca> record the Notker sequence “Natus ante secula” with the rubric “ad publicam,” referring to the “public mass” of Christmas, as opposed to the “private” masses celebrated only for the monastics.

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The concessions afforded by Henry II from the Frankish practice are related in

the Micrologus, a commentary on the papal liturgy from c. 1085 by Bernold of Constance.

The Roman church accepted the Creed into the mass, but its recitation was tempered:

Credo in unum, juxta canones, in omni Dominica et in omnibus Dominicis solemnitatibus, item in festis sanctae Mariae et apostolorum, et sanctae crucis, et Omnium Sanctorum, et dedicationis, debet cantari, nec immerito; nam et de iis singulis in eodem symbolo aliqua reperitur commemoration.

Credo in unum, according to the canons, on every Sunday and on every solemn feast of the Lord, likewise on feasts of St Mary and of the apostles, and of the Holy Cross, and of All Saints, and of dedications, ought to be sung, and not without just cause; for the commemoration is obtained by some mention of a single phrase in the Symbol.58

In subsequent centuries, the rules for occasions for the Creed expanded to become more

complex. A fifteenth-century Missal gives a detailed account of feasts on which the

Credo is recited:

Credo in unum deum. It is said on every Sunday throughout the entire year, and also if a Mass be made with regard to a feast. At the first Mass of the evening of the Nativity of the Lord. And at all the other Masses of that day, and thereafter throughout the entire octave. And on the octave of Saint John the Evangelist. On Epiphany and throughout the entire octave. On the Conversion of Saint Paul. On the Purification of the Blessed Mary. On the Annunciation to the same. On the Chair of St Peter. Feria quinta on the Lord’s Supper. On the Resurrection of the Lord and throughout the octave. On the feast of ascension and throughout the octave. On Pentecost and throughout the octave. On the feast of Corpus Christi and throughout the octave. On the feast of St John Before the Latin Gate. On the octave of the blessed John the

58 PL 151:1011–12.

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Baptist for him who is below the octave of the Apostles. On the feast of the Visitation to the Blessed Mary and throughout the octave. On the feast of the Chains of Saint Peter. On the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin and throughout the Octave. On the Octave of Saint Lawrence for him who came below the octave of the Blessed Virgin. On the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin and throughout the octave. On the feasts of the Holy Cross. On the feasts of the Angels. On the feast of All Saints. On all solemnities of the twelve apostles. And of the Evangelists. And of Saint Barnabas. And at every consecration of churches and altars.59

These qualifications show that its liturgical gravitas was uncertain. Like the Gloria, the

Creed was not a feature of every Mass. In the case of the Gloria’s infrequency, this might

be due to Eastern influence. Within the Sabbaite matins of the Greek church, the Gloria

is only sung on days of higher solemnity, and simply read on lesser days. Likewise in

the Roman Mass, the Gloria is only sung on specifically high liturgical days, and

suppressed during the penitential season of Lent.60 Similarly, the Credo is only included

at the celebration of solemn feasts. Jungmann avers that this liminal status is due to the

Roman resistance to including the Creed liturgically, and that the Creed is, in general,

only included on days of feasts mentioned in the Creed itself.61

Thus, it appears that the entrance of the Creed into the Mass was the latest

addition of the “Ordinary.” In fact, all movements of the Ordinary are relatively late in

59 From Missale Romanum: Mediolani, 1474, Vol. 1, ed. Robert Lippe (London: Harrison and Sons, 1899), 196–7. 60 Jungmann, vol. 1, 357. 61 Jungmann, vol. 1, 470.

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their musical forms and liturgical positions.62 These qualifications of the occasions and

liturgical place of the Creed are why Josef Jungmann concludes that “[t]he Credo was

thus conceived simply as a means of enhancing the festivity” of the Mass celebration.63

Its presence marked the heightened celebration and solemnity of a liturgical

commemoration.

2.2 The Text of the Creed

The text of the Latin Creed as sung in the Mass today was standardized only in

the late 8th century. As intimated in above sections, the text in Greek was not

standardized until the 5th century, and Latin translations varied in their approach to key

terms. Though the Latin texts of the office and mass reified over the centuries, the

textual history of the Creed is important for understanding later liturgical and musical

standardizations. As stated above, the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed sung in the

mass dates to, and takes its name from, the decrees of the Ecumenical Councils of Nicaea

(325) and Constantinople (381). Although there seems to be a continuity between these

official Catholic creeds and earlier credal statements, the Creed of the fourth century—

that is, the Creed in the mass—marked a “great revolution” in doctrinal formulae

because it was used as a test of purity of orthodoxy and episcopal allegiance, rather than

62 Cf. Craig Wright, Music and Ceremony at Notre Dame of Paris, 500–1500 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 81. 63 Jungmann, vol. 1, 470.

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a confessional statement derived from local liturgical practice. To quote C.H. Turner,

“the old creeds were creeds for catechumens, the new creed was a creed for bishops.”64

This treatment of the Creed as an imperial statement helps to explain the text and use of

the Latin Creed, which was adopted and used by Charlemagne to similar effect in the

early 9th century. Such an understanding of the Creed helps to explain its place within

Charlemagne’s liturgical enterprise, and also to elucidate the earliest Franco-Gregorian

melody of the Creed, which, I argue, was promulgated for similar imperial effect.

The history of the text of the Creed has been carefully studied by various

scholars, most notably in J.N.D. Kelly’s Early Christian Creeds and more recently in

Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, a four-volume series edited by

Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss; Wolfram Kinzig’s study stands as the most

recent scholarly investigation into the history of the composition of the Creed texts.65

Here my goal is to lay out the broad strokes of how the creedal text we have inherited

was shaped and formed over the centuries of the first millennium.

The earliest Creeds, conceived to accompany baptismal rites, tend to be flexible

in their verbal presentation; John Behr writes that “these ‘canons of truth’ were not,

strictly speaking, declarative confessions of faith, but rather working guidelines, whose

64 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 205 65 Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003); Wolfram Kinzig, Neue Texte und Studien zu den antiken und frühmittelalterlichen Glaubesbekenntnissen (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2017).

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wording could vary even within the work of one author.”66 As seen above, the general

frame of early baptismal statements of faith was interrogatory; the earliest evidence for a

declaratory creed may come from late 2nd-century Roman practice.67 Before the

legalization and subsequent popularization of Christianity under Constantine, the

religion assumed different regional expressions. Whereas Christianity in the Western

empire became unified under the bishop of its main city, Rome, Christianity in the

Eastern empire found sometimes competing visions in four main urban centers—

Constantinople, Antioch, Alexandria, and Jerusalem. Region-specific creedal statements

were handed on for personal use, often, as seen above, for instruction during catechesis,

followed by personal reflection on the doctrines exposited in the texts.

Facing a threat of heresy dividing the empire, Emperor Constantine called a

council of bishops in Nicaea in 325; traditionally, the Nicene Creed is believed to have

been the composition of those bishops, though the acts from that council do not survive.

J.N.D. Kelly points to the surging phenomenon of using creeds as a test of orthodoxy as

a possible explanation for the rise of institutional creeds in the fourth century—for

example, the 9th canon of the Council of Arles (314) states that heretics desiring to join

the church should be asked the creed.68 Another local council held in early 325 in

66 John Behr, The Nicene Faith (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2004), 150. 67 Wolfram Kinzig and Markus Vinzent, “Recent Research on the Origin of the Creed,” Journal of Theological Studies 50 no. 2 (1999):535–59. 68 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 206.

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Antioch also promulgated a creed, much longer than that of Nicaea, and provisionally

excommunicated bishops who did not sign onto its statement.

The main debate surrounding the text of Nicaea was over the use of non-

scriptural language. The earlier local baptismal creeds essentially consolidated scriptural

statements, not using any phrases that cannot be found in the Bible. But some of the

Nicene bishops insisted on using the phrase “of one essence with the Father”

(ὁµοούσιος in Greek), a term taken not from scripture but from Greek philosophy. This

phrase was so philosophically and theologically charged that early Latin translations left

it in transliterated Greek.69

Though the Creed of Constantinople has garnered the title “Nicene-

Constantinopolitan Creed,” Kelly points out that the later (Constantinopolitan) Creed is

not precisely a revision of the Nicene Creed of 325; “while it can fairly be described as a

Nicene creed, as a creed embodying the Nicene theology, it is not in strictness of

language the Nicene Creed.”70 Furthermore, there is no documentation indicating that

the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed originated at the Council of Constantinople in 381.

Rather, its earliest attestation is at Chalcedon in 451. The connections between the

creedal statements of Nicaea, Constantinople, and Chalcedon have been examined in

69 B. Capelle, “L’origine antiadoptioniste de notre texte du symbole de la messe,” Récherches de théologie ancienne et médiévale 1929:7–20, at 16. Capelle provides ten early Latin versions of the Creed, three of which translate this phrase as “omousion patri,” rather than the standard “consubstantialem patri.” 70 J.N.D. Kelly, “The Nicene Creed: A Turning Point,” in Scottish Journal of Theology 36 (1983):29–39, at 29.

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great depth elsewhere, and there still appears to be no scholarly consensus on the

provenance of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed.71

Documentary evidence from the ninth century shows an extreme anti-heretical

angle to the debates and circumstances surrounding the Creed’s addition to the Frankish

liturgy in the ninth century. Two important theologians associated with Charlemagne’s

court, Alcuin of York and Paulinus of Aquileia, produced translations of the Creed

which are virtually identical to the Latin Creed used today. Bernard Capelle provides

the text of Alcuin’s creed preserved in his tract “Against Felix” (Adversus Felicem), which

is found in Appendix A: Ancient Creeds. As noted above, the inclusion of the Creed

within the Eucharistic liturgy of the Roman rite originated as a polemical device (similar

to its entrance into the Eastern liturgy), and it remained a distinctly Frankish innovation

until the eleventh century.

The translation of the Creed closest to that used in Charlemagne’s liturgy at

Aachen comes from Paulinus of Aquila. Paulinus’s translation differs only in four words

from the standard Creed of today’s Mass.72 Dom Capelle refers to Paulinus’s translation

71 Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, Vol. I, 162–63. 72 Charles Atkinson has detailed changes to copies of the Creed in Greek which were made to match this new Latin translation. For example, in the St Gall manuscript Bamberg, Sb. Bibl. 44, the phrase “theon ek theu” is placed before “Phos ek photos,” in accordance with the Latin, “deum de deo, lumen de lumine”; in the original Greek, the order of these two phrases is reversed—φῶς ἐκ φωτός, Θεὸν ἀληθινὸν ἐκ Θεοῦ ἀληθινοῦ (fōs ek fōtos, Theon alēthinon ek Theou alēthinou). Thus, by the early tenth century, this Latin translation had become standard to the point of altering the Greek Creed. See Charles Atkinson, “The Doxa, the Pisteuo, and the ellinici fratres: Some Anomalies in the Transmission of the Chants of the ‘Missa Graeca,’” Journal of Musicology 7 (1989):81–106.

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as “éclectique et personnel”; it is “une édition nouvelle—l’édition carolingienne—du

Constantinopolitanum latin.” Capelle has examined the ten main pre-Carolingian Latin

translations of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, and compared them to Paulinus’.73

While a general Latin translation tradition emerges, several small variants show

Paulinus’ originality. The eventual supremacy of his translation is due to the adoption of

the sung melody for the Credo, today known as Credo I.

Adrian Fortescue points out that the Creed is mentioned in the description of the

Mass given by Florus of Lyons in the 9th century:

Therefore, the faithful first having assembled as one and being present in the house of God, the singing of the divine praises having preceded, the reading of the Apostles and of the Gospels having preceded, a sermon and exhortation of the teacher sometimes also having preceded, the confession of the Creed also having been added, and the offering of the people, and the consecration of the holy things having begun, in which the mind of all those present is prepared to think of and desire divine and holy things, the priest stands at the altar, and, about to celebrate the divine mysteries, he entreats the Church in salutation, and salutes it in prayer, saying…74

Florus’ witness shows that the place of the Creed within the Frankish Mass was

established and secured at a relatively early date.

73 Capelle, “L’origine antiadoptianiste de notre texte du symbole de la messe,” 16–17. 74 Adrian Fortescue, The Mass: A Study of the Roman Liturgy (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1914), 287. Citing PL 119:25 (Florus’ de expositione missae): “Primo igitur convenientibus in unum, et astantibus in domo Dei fidelibus, praecedente modulatione divinarum laudum, praecedente lectiene apostolorum et Evangeliorum, praecedente etiam nonnunquam sermone et allocutione magistrorum, subjuncta quoque symboli confessione, et oblatione populorum, et initiate consecratione sacramentorum, in quibus omnibus mens astantium ad divina et coelestia cogitanda ac desideranda praeparatur, assistit sacerdos altari, et celebraturus divina mysteria, Ecclesiam salutando orat, et orando salutat dicens… .”

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The Latin text of the Creed was essentially fixed from 798, but there were notable

expansions of and changes to the text within the medieval period. The two main textual

changes to the mass text of the Creed were made through deletions and farsing

additions—that is, like troping, adding texts not originally part of the liturgical text.75 It

might seem that such liturgical liberty is an outlier, or that this treatment of the Mass

texts is allowed because the polyphonic settings were merely ornamental. Just as the

Motetti Missales of the later fifteenth century offered an artistic supplement to the actual

texts of the Mass, which were quietly recited by the celebrant, the integrity of the Credo

might not be important because the celebrant’s recitation still determined the validity of

the Mass.76 Nevertheless, the degree of textual liberty is surprising—scribes and

composers sometimes added words, like in the anonymous “Patrem Tubula” in the

manuscript BSB Clm. 1561. In that fifteenth century manuscript, the scribe crossed out

one of the sentences of the Creed, replacing it with a text perhaps more appropriate to a

Marian celebration: “Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de

celis et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto et natus ex maria virgine et homo factus est.” The

Sens Circumcision office records a farsed Credo at Mass (as well as a farsed Apostle’s

75 The distinction between “farses” and “tropes”—a distinction arising from how the medieval manuscripts talk about these additions—is that farses are textual additions applied to lessons, not mass or office chants. See Michel Huglo, rev. by Alejandro Enrique Planchart, “Farse,” in Grove Music Online; David Hiley, Western Plainchant: A Handbook (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 234. 76 See Catherine A. Bradley et al., “Motet”, II. 2. “Later 15th Century” in Grove Music Online.

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Creed at Compline), surviving in the Vatican edition as Credo VII.77 A number of

polyphonic and monophonic Credos do not preserve the entire Credo text, but delete or

omit large portions (a topic more fully explored in chapter five). I set forth these

examples to show that, though the primary text of the Creed was fixed by 798, liturgical

innovation surrounding its text did not stop.

2.3 Charlemagne and the Creed

The interventions of Charlemagne and his court are germane to the history of the

Creed within Christian worship for two reasons. First, the corpus known as Gregorian

chant took shape under the musicians of Charlemagne’s court; the present Credo I, if not

a composition of those musicians, is directly indebted to the musical and liturgical

background of the Frankish kingdom. Second, the story of Charlemagne and the Creed

shows how politics plays a role in the history of worship and music. From its beginning,

the Creed has been at the center of debates that blur the lines between politics and

theology, and the Creed at Charlemagne’s court is no exception. Here is a vivid case

study of the politics of the Creed, and the political issues continue to have relevance into

the fifteenth century.

Charlemagne sought to ally his northern kingdom with the ecclesial power of

Rome. By doing this, ripening theological controversies between Greek and Latin

77 Hiley, Western Plainchant, 171.

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formulations of Christianity were brought to the fore. The Creed became the locus of this

debate because of a subtle, new theological tradition from Christian Spain proclaiming

that, within the Trinity, the Spirit proceeds from both Father and Son (filioque). This

added clause was not included in the earliest Greek creeds of the 4th and 5th centuries,

nor was it present in the Latin translations of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan creed.

The earliest documented clash concerning the Greek and Latin formulations of

the Creed occurred in 767 at the council of Gentilly, where Latin theologians accused the

Greeks—at that time in the throes of the iconoclast controversy—of idol worship, and

the Greeks accused the Latins of adding words to the Creed. According to J.N.D. Kelly,

after this encounter, “Charlemagne …took up the filioque with something like fervor,

using every opportunity to parade it before the horrified East and trying his best to

induce the papacy to lend him its moral and practical support.”78 Charlemagne even

rebuked Pope Hadrian I in 794 for erroneously supporting the Greek doctrine that “the

Holy Spirit proceeds not from the Father and the Son … but from the Father through the

Son.”79

78 Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 363. 79 Ibid., 364. It is important to note that Philippe Bernard has proposed that the introduction of the Creed into the Mass predates Charlemagne by half a century; studying the “Messe de Mone,” a collection of Latin and Greek masses from the second through 7th centuries (published as Lateinische und Griechische Messen aus dem zweiten bis sechsten Jahrhundert, ed. Franz Joseph Mone [Frankfurt: Carl Bernhard Lizius, 1850]), Bernard argues that the text of some of the praefationes refer to a “quadrata confessio” within the mass, which could be taken to be the Nicene Creed. See Bernard, “Quadrata Confessio,” 431–443.

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Pope Leo III (r. 795–816) sought a diplomatic solution when the difference of

praxis between East and West became even more pronounced. A group of Latin monks

in Jerusalem were remonstrated by local Greek-speaking Christians in 808 for singing

the Creed with filioque inserted; Charlemagne used the opportunity to petition Pope Leo

to affirm the doctrinal orthodoxy of the filioque and to ensure its position within the

Creed. Leo, however, responded that there was no doctrinal necessity to add sentences

to the Creed, and that the easier solution was to exclude the Creed from the Mass, as

was the custom in Rome. This helps to explain the continual reluctance from Rome to

add the Creed to the Mass.

It appears that the Creed entered the non-Roman Western Eucharistic liturgies

gradually, and regionally, in the centuries prior to 1014. As noted above, Florus of

Lyons, writing in the ninth century, observes the presence of the Creed after the gospel;

but, as Adrian Fortescue notes, Amelard of Metz, roughly contemporaneous to Florus,

does not note the presence of the Creed after the gospel.80

Charlemagne promoted liturgical unification, both in regard to the shape of the

Mass and the proliferation of the Gregorian chant. The composition and propagation of

the chant known today as Credo I was part of this project. The melody stands out from

other items of the Gregorian Ordinary corpus. For one, it is the only melody available

80 Fortescue, 287.

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for that movement; the other four movements of the Mass Ordinary have several other

melodies available. Second, the melody is peculiar, exhibiting a double-Phrygian

melodic contour with E-F and A-B-flat as an outline.

As will be explored below, Michel Huglo has hypothesized that the melody is

possibly Greek in origin, especially because a Creed in Greek appears in a thirteenth-

century manuscript. The origins of the so-called Missa Graeca of Charlemagne’s court at

Aachen have been explored by Huglo, Kenneth Levy, and Charles Atkinson; the term

was first used in 1886 to describe the confluence of Greek-language texts emanating

from the Aachen liturgical rituals.81

The worship of the Frankish court frequently incorporated Greek language and

liturgical elements. Several manuscripts from the eighth and ninth centuries bear

witness to pieces of the Ordinary in Greek transliteration, including “Doxa” (Gloria),

“Pisteuo” (Credo) and “Amnos tou theou” (Agnus Dei). The architects of the Frankish

liturgy had in mind an assertion of both the universality of the Frankish rites of the

Mass—probably tied in with the celebration of the feast of Pentecost—and of the

authority of the Frankish empire under Charlemagne and his successors. Indeed,

Charlemagne did attempt to marry into the Byzantine royal family, failing in pursuit of

the hand of Princess Irene. He also had established diplomatic and religious ties with the

81 See Bernice Kaczynski, “Greek Learning in the Medieval West: A Study of St. Gall, 816–1022” (Ph.D. dissertation, Yale University, 1975).

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Byzantine Empire; but it seems his motivations were, in fact, to insert himself as the

emperor of the “Roman Empire.” The Byzantine Empire referred to itself as the Roman

Empire, viewing itself not as the successor to but the continuation of the empire of

Ancient Rome. The name of Constantinople after Constantine formally moved the

empire to that city was “New Rome.”

The singing of the Credo at the Mass, then, had both political and theological

overtones, especially because Charlemagne and his court viewed the propagation of the

Credo with the filioque as a duty of his empire. If the composers of the chants at the court

at Aachen mimicked a Greek melody, as I will propose in the next chapter, it would bear

the connotation of the religious, political, and cultural claims of the Holy Roman

Empire.

In addition to the liturgical use of the Creed, the music to which it is set may

have served as an aide-mémoire. Kenneth Levy points to several legal proscriptions from

Charlemagne’s time demanding clerical memorization of the Creed: “‘Haec sunt quae

iussa sunt discere omnes ecclesiasticos… [These are those orders which all churchmen are to

know]’ listing the Creeds, Lord’s Prayer, contents of the Sacramentary… .”82 An episcopal

edict to priests at a diocesan synod, probably of the early ninth century gives another

prescription:

82 Kenneth Levy, Gregorian Chant and the Carolingians (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), 87, fn. 7a, citing Capitularia regum francorum, MGH Legum, section 2, 235.

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Ammonere vos cupio, fratres et filioli mei, ut ista pauca capitula quae hinc scripta sunt intentius audiatis. 1. Imprimis, ut sacerdos Dei de divina scriptura doctus sit… 2. Ut totum psalterium memoriter teneat; 3. Ut signaculum et baptisteries memoriter teneat.83

I wish to admonish you, my brothers and sons, that you obey attentively those small chapters which henceforth are written. 1. Firstly, that the priests of God be learned in the divine scriptures… 2. That the entire psalter be held from memory; 3. That the creeds [signaculum] and words and prayers of the baptismal service be held from memory.

Thus the impetus for clerical knowledge of the Creed—a command particularly strong

under Charlemagne—may have led to the creation of a melody simple in formulation,

conducive to memorization. It is possible that the melody now known as Credo I has its

origins in these imperial/canonical edicts; it is also possible that, in addition to

demanding knowledge of the Creed by the clergy, laic recitation of the Creed was also a

desideratum.

The court of Charlemagne was seemingly obsessed with (re)cultivating a

tradition of Latin letters. Some aspects of this renovation were centrally directed, but

that plan was not universally followed. John Contreni observes the irregularities of the

Carolingian renaissance, writing:

Any account of the Carolingian renaissance that omitted its detours, contradictions, and idiosyncrasies would make it seem too schematic. Carolingian rulers and prelates could provide an impetus, but they could not control intellectual activity and debate no matter how much they desired standardization and

83 MGH 1.236–37. My translation.

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unanimity. The immediate effect of the official involvement in learning and culture was to stimulate activity on a broad front.84

Such a broad front included a combined political, religious, and cultural project.

It is possible that the Creed promoted and promulgated by Charlemagne was an

attempt to secure political power in the face of the Byzantine Empire. Charles Atkinson

has noted that Greek–Frankish relations were not strong during Charlemagne’s

lifetime.85 The Franks had abjured the Byzantines for sanctioning the veneration of icons

after the Second Ecumenical Council of Nicaea in 787; there is also the statement in the

Libri Carolini that “[t]he frailty of the (female) sex and the mutability of a (woman’s)

heart do not permit woman to place herself in supreme authority in matters of faith”—a

statement surely directed at the Byzantine Empress Irene, who governed the empire

essentially from 780 until her death in 802. it might be argued that Charlemagne did not

wish to usurp the Byzantine imperial position, but rather to achieve equality as a

legitimate empire. Thomas Francis Xavier Noble writes that “Charlemagne did not see

himself as a Roman emperor, and he in no way imagined himself to be a successor to or

a replacement for the Byzantine emperors. Indeed, he spent the next twelve years trying

to win from Constantinople recognition of his equality with the eastern emperors.”86 The

84 John J. Contreni, “The Carolingian Renaissance,” in Renaissances Before the Renaissance, ed. Warren Treadgold (Stanford: Stanford University Press,1984), 59-74, at 67. 85 Charles W. Atkinson, “Further Thoughts on the Missa Graeca,” 78ff. 86 Thomas F.X. Noble, The Republic of St Peter: The Birth of the Papal States 680–825 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1984), 296.

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orientation of the Frankish Kingdom to the Byzantine Empire was ambiguous, but it is

possible that both a Greek origin for the Creed and the Missa Graeca bear political

overtones.

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3. The Monophonic Melodies of the Credo

Within the scope of this project, we can identify two main periods of musical

history for the melodies of the Credo being sung at the mass. The first period is roughly

900–1300, during which the melody known as Credo I dominated the liturgical-musical

landscape of Catholic Europe; the second period is roughly 1300–1500 (and beyond),

during which church musicians composed dozens of new melodies for the Credo at

Mass, along with essays setting the Creed in polyphony.

Credo I is the most prominent Credo in the plainchant repertoire. It is not part of

the Gregorian corpus strictly speaking, as the melody, like those of the other Ordinary

plainchants, was composed after the reception of the Roman chant corpus by the Franks

in the 8th century. While it is not part of the earliest body of Western plainchant, it bears

marks identifying it as the product of early Frankish musical composition, specifically in

its psalm-tone like recitational structure.

In the first section of this chapter, I trace the history of the Western plainchant

Credos. I focus my musical analysis in this section on Credo I, as it was, and still is, the

most prominent plainchant Credo of the Roman Catholic Church. It is not, however, the

earliest plainchant Credo.1 A perusal of Miazga’s transcriptions of plainchant Credo

1 André Mocquereau gave it the title “authentique,” which Bruno Stäblein translated as “ursprünglich.” Wagner, however, was more cautious in his appraisal, stating that “it was originally a recitative with moderate vocal inflections for the intitium …, but in the course of time it was occasionally interwoven with figures.” (Einführung in die Gregorianischen Melodien, 3rd vol. [1921], 458). See also Bruno Stäblein, “Credo” in MGG1, 1770.

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melodies reveals that the chant called Credo I took several centuries to become solidified

as the official and primary plainchant Credo. In its relatedness to Credos II, V, and VI, I

argue that Credo I is probably a high-medieval reification of earlier recitational

plainchant melodies for the Creed. It is my main object of analysis here because of its

canonical status and relative antiquity, but it is only the most prominent and well-

defined member of a family of ancient Credo melodies which were probably related to

each other. Ultimately, I argue that the possibility of a Greek model for Credo I is

reinforced by the political background of the Creed in the 9th century which I explored in

Chapter Two; Credo I, bearing markers of Hellenism more prominently than the other

mass ordinary melodies, could serve as a musical reminder of Carolingian claims to

primacy within the Christian imperium.

In the second section of this chapter, I introduce and explore the phenomenon of

cantus fractus Credos. The number of new melodies composed for the Credo jumped

dramatically between 1300 and 1500. The 1976 catalog by Tadeusz Miazga records 57

cantus fractus melodies in manuscripts dated to those two centuries, and more recent

discoveries and publications have pushed that number over 70. Despite the popularity

of this music, however, there has been no comprehensive survey of the melodies or their

historical background. In this section I attempt to introduce this style of Credo

composition and describe and analyze the most popular melodies of the time period.

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3.1 Period I: The Origins of the Plainchant Credo, ca. 800–1300

In this section I consider Credo I in the context of early sources for Credo

melodies, from the mid-10th century to the 14th century. First, I investigate the earliest

sources for the Western plainchant melodies, which appear to indicate that Credo VI

might bear the closest resemblance to the melodies in those manuscripts. Second, I

demonstrate that these early Western Credos, all bearing substantial similarities to each

other, possibly derive from a common Greek or Eastern Christian plainchant tradition.

Third, I provide a full analysis of the structure of Credo I, showing that while it is

possibly derived from Eastern melodies, it is clearly a composition of the Frankish

plainchant project. Finally, I argue that a Frankish adaptation of an Eastern Credo

melody could have arisen out of political and theological concerns in the Carolingian

kingdom, and that such a political origin is still evident in the Credo plainchants.

3.1.1 The earliest sources for the Credo in Plainchant

Despite being the most prominent Credo chant, Credo I is probably not the

earliest. The early Solesmes research published in Paléographie Musicale Volume 10

identifies Credo I as existing in 11th-century sources.2 The 1961 Liber Usualis identifies it

as an 11th-century melody, but the earliest unambiguous source is a 13th-century

manuscript. The Liber Usualis and the Vatican Edition of the early 20th century famously

2 André Mocquereau, Paléographie Musicale X (Desclée: Tournai, 1910), 94.

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do not provide a critical apparatus or source listing for their edition, though the project

of offering a critical edition has been embarked upon and abandoned several times in

the intervening century.3 A comparison of the oldest Credo plainchants of the Vatican

edition—Credos I, II, V, and VI—reveals that the four melodies are certainly related. As

Credo I eventually became the canonical (“authentic”) Credo of the Catholic Church and

might represent a reified version of the earlier plainchants, it will serve as the main focus

of analysis for the rest of the chapter.

Tadeusz Miazga, a Polish Catholic priest and musicologist, compiled a

chronological list of sources of Credo I and other early Credos in his catalog of Credo

melodies.4 The earliest manuscript in his catalog is a tenth-century Gradual,

Staatsbibliothek Bamberg Msc. Lit. 6 (see reproduction in Appendix B: Reproductions of

Early Plainchant Credos), dated 950–975. The melody, transcribed in Figure 1, is notated

in unheightened neumes. My transcription is based on Miazga’s incipit transcription. No

complete modern transcription exists, but an examination of the melody’s beginning

shows a simple repetitive melody in two phrases. The first phrase features the upward

3 Cf. Edward Kovarik, “Mid Fifteenth-Century Polyphonic Elaborations of the Plainchant Ordinarium Missae,” (Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, 1973), 26. See also Peter Jeffery, “The New Chantbook from Solesmes,” Notes 47 (June 1991):1039–1063, at 1042: “The [Second Vatican] Council’s call for ‘a more critical edition…of those books already published’ referred to the critical edition of the Graduale that Solesmes had recently begun. The first volumes to appear came in for criticism on a number of issues, leading to a rethinking of the entire project. Nevertheless, a number of difficulties have conspired to ensure that no further volumes have appeared since the Council.” 4 Tadeusz Miazga, Die Melodien des einstimmigen Credo der römisch-katholischen lateinischen Kirche (Graz: Akademische Druck, 1976).

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fifth jump (D-A) and a gradual stepwise descent back to D; the second phrase circles

around the notes E-F-G.

The Bamberg manuscript Credo melody does, however, begin with the familiar

A-B-flat intonation which is retained in the modern Credo I. A melody from a slightly

later source, Colmar Bibliothèque Municipale 443, provides a melody nearly identical to

that of Bamberg. These melodies both strongly resemble Credo VI. In Figure 1 all three

melodies can be seen in tabular format in order to highlight the evident musical

similarities.5

5 Image available online at the Bibliothèque virtuelle des manuscrits médiévaux (https://bvmm.irht.cnrs.fr) accessed February 18, 2020. Cf. Tadeusz Miazga, 18.

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Figure 1: Comparison of three early Credos: Bamberg Lit. 6, f. 95r; Colmar 443 f. 4v, and Credo VI

Credo VI has not received much musicological attention, other than as a

derivative melody of Credo I.6 It appears that the sources for Credo VI predate the

sources for Credo I, and Mocquereau and Gajard give a 10th-century date for the

composition of the Credo VI melody.7 As mentioned above, Credo VI comprises two

6 Hiley states “Vatican II, V, and VI use variants of the same typical phrases as Vatican I.” Hiley, Western Plainchant,169. This statement is repeated in the article “Credo” in Grove Music Online, by Richard Crocker and revised by David Hiley. Dom Joseph Gajard’s article, “Le Credo VI”, Revue Gregorienne 9 (1924):172–186 remains one of the few critical examinations of Credo VI. 7 Gajard, “Le Credo VI,” 172, and Mocquerau, Le Nombre Musical: Grégorien ou Rhythmique Grégorienne (Rome, Tournai: Desclée, 1908), Vol. II, 204. Mocquerau states: “Ce Credo provient d’un manuscrit du XIe

Cre do- in u num- De um,- Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem-

Cre do- in u num- De um,- Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem-

Cre do- in u num- De um,- Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem,-

fac to- rem- cae li- et ter rae-

fac to- rem- cae li- et ter rae-

fac to- rem- cae - li et ter rae,- -

vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- -

vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- -

vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- -

&Bamberg

&Colmar

&Credo VI (LU)

&&&

&&&

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œb œ œ œb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

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distinct phrases. Unlike Credo I, however, the only clear recitation tone in Credo VI is

the A of the first phrase (“Patrem omnipotentem”; “et terrae”); the other phrase does not

have a clear recitation tone, but uses G as an anchor pitch for motivic phrases on E-F-G

or G-F-E.8

Günther Michael Paucker observes a third early source with a similar melody,

found in Berlin Staatsbibliothek cod. Theo. Lat. 40 11, f.100r–101r (see Appendix B:

Reproductions of Early Plainchant Credos).9 The Berlin codex is dated to 1024–27, thus

putting the three earliest manuscripts with Credo melodies within a 50- to 75-year span.

These Credos share similar melodic features—a recitation on A in the first phrase

(“Patrem omnipotentem,” “et terrae”) and on G in the second, as well as the frequently-

occurring melodic gesture E-F-G. On the other hand, the earliest source which

unequivocally gives the modern Credo I melody is Reims Bibliothèque Municipale 264,

f. 105r, a 13th-century source; this is also the earliest non-neumatic source (see Figure 2).

The melody preserved in that manuscript is nearly identical to the Credo I in modern

editions. The full connections and musical development of the Credo melody in its

earliest notations have not been studied in over a century, since Mocquereau’s analysis.

siècle, de S. Martial de Limoges, actuellement à la Bibliothèque nationale de Paris, fonds latin, no. 887, p.60. Sa composition peut remonter au Xe siècle.” 8 These recitational phrases are called membres by Mocquereau in his analysis; I use his terminology below. 9 Günther Michael Paucker, Das Graduale Msc. Lit. 6 der Staatsbibliothek Bamberg (Regensburg: Gustav Bosse, 1986), 63–4.

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It seems likely that the melody now known as Credo I developed as an elaboration of a

simpler melody.

Figure 2: The earliest manuscript recording Credo I, Reims 264 f. 105r (13th c)10

Now we turn to connections between the four earliest Credos preserved in the

Vatican edition. Most scholars agree they are variants of each other.11 A side-by-side

comparison reveals many musical similarities but also highlights Credo I as more

elaborate than the other Credos (see Figure 3).

10 Image from Bibliothèque virtuelle des manuscrits médiévaux. Note that it is given the title “Simbolum apostolorum,” even though this is not the Apostles’ Creed. 11 See Hiley, Western Plainchant, 169; Crocker and Hiley, “Credo” in Grove Music Online; Kenneth Levy, “The Byzantine Sanctus East and West,” Annales Musicologiques 6 (1958). 7–67, at 41; Stäblein, “Credo,” 1770.

85

86

Figure 3: comparison of Credos I, II, V, and VI from the Vatican Edition

Credo VI is the simplest of these four Credos, comprising two phrases with a recitation

phrase on A. Credos II and I appear the closest, with Credo I using many of the same

notes of Credo II with added embellishments and ornaments. The final notes of several

phrases between Credo I and Credo II do not align. As I will show below, there is a

family of early Credo melodies that are all in second mode authentic or plagal with E

finals, and it is possible that Credo II, with consistent second mode phrase endings,

preserves a version relatively older than the other three. All four Credos are in the

second mode with an E final at the final “Amen”, but only Credo II regularly ends most

of its constituent phrases with an E.

In contrast to Credo VI’s two phrases, Credos I, II, and V comprise three phrases

and a connecting phrase on “Jesum Christum”; the phrases alternate between an “A”

recitation pitch (e.g., “Patrem…”) and a “G” recitation pitch (e.g., “factorem caeli”).12

12 In Mocquereau’s terminology, which I adapt below, the connecting phrase is a liaison.

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There are connections between the four melodies, which I have endeavored to show in

the tabular organization of Figure 3—consistent stepwise motion, frequent repetition of

the G-F-E motif before cadences, an intonation figure announcing the beginning of

several phrases (D-A in Credo VI, A-B-flat in Credos I and V).

3.1.2 The Possible Eastern Origin of the Western Credo Melodies

The Berlin codex mentioned above raises the possibility of a Greek connection for

the Credo melody. On f.101, following the Latin Credo in neumatic notation, the

manuscript contains the rubric “Symbolum aptorum Grece et Latine,” which marks a

dual-language Creed in both Greek and Latin. The Greek is transliterated in Latin

characters, in black ink, while the Latin translation underlies the Greek transliteration, in

red ink. This manuscript, one of several St Gall manuscripts containing extensive Greek-

language texts, represents a later stage in the proliferation of a Missa Graeca, a modern

term applied to mass ordinary texts in Greek found in Frankish manuscripts from the 9th

to 11th centuries.13 Walter Berschin, describing the Greek influence at St Gall, states that

the proliferation of Greek texts within these manuscripts is probably due to the

language’s status as one of three “holy languages,” along with Hebrew and Latin.

The Graeco-Latin poems from St. Gall belong for the most part to the liturgy. That is the space where the St. Gall Hellenism unfolds most intensely. The Missa Graeca was not invented in St. Gall, but [there] it received lively cultivation. In the often-magnificently decorated troper and sequence manuscripts—a fame of the St.

13 See Charles M. Atkinson, “Further Thoughts on the Origin of the Missa graeca,” 76.

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Gall scriptorium—Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Pater noster, and Agnus dei are repeatedly written in Greek. With the liturgy, the playful, ornamental treatment of the Greek has an established place; the Greek letters in the codex and the spoken or sung Greek words in the liturgy elevate the third “holy language,” Latin, into the sphere of the second “holy language,” Greek, the original language of the New Testament. In this cultural milieu, it is not so important that it is a proper or even a Greek word that is emphasized in this way. An example of this is the AMHN, which is often written in Greek and sacralizes a word of the first “holy language,” Hebrew, with letters of the second “holy language.”14

The reverence held for the Greek language at St Gall is not limited to the Credo, and

such esteem for the Greek language is common across many aspects of medieval

religious culture.15 While the Credo’s linguistic connection to Greek is evident in this

11th-century St Gall manuscript, it is likely that a Greek musical connection goes even

further back in history. A number of musicologists have suggested such a connection,

but, like so much of the early history of chant, the answers remain shrouded by a lack of

14 W. Berschin, “Griechisches in der Klosterschule des alten St. Gallen,” Byzantinische Zeitschrift 84/85 Band 2 (1991–92): 329–340, at 338. “Die graeco-lateinischen Dichtungen aus St Gallen gehören zum größeren Teil in den Bereich der Liturgie. Dort ist der Raum, in dem sich der sanktgallische Hellenismus am intensivsten entfaltet. Die Missa Graeca ist in St Gallen nicht erfunden worden, hat aber lebhafte Pflege erfahren. In den oft prachtvoll ausgestatteten Tropen- und Sequenzenhandschriften –– einem Ruhm des sanktgallischen Skriptoriums—sind Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Pater noster, und Agnus Dei immer wieder griechisch geschrieben worden. Mit der Liturgie hat der spielerisch anmutende, ornamentale Umgang mit den Graeca einen festen Sitz im Leben; der griechische Buchstabe im Codex und das griechisch gesprochene oder gesungene Wort in der Liturgie erheben die dritte ‘heilige Sprache’ Latein in die Sphäre der zweiten ‘heiligen Sprache’ Griechisch, der Ursprache des Neuen Testaments. In diesem kulturellen Milieu kommt es gar nicht so sehr darauf an, daß es ein richtiges oder überhaupt ein griechisches Wort ist, das so hervorgehoben wird. Ein Beispiel ist hierfür das häufig griechisch geschriebene AMHN, womit ein Wort der ersten “heiligen Sprache” Hebräisch mit Buchstaben der zweiten “heiligen Sprache’ sakralisiert wird.” 15 See especially Walter Berschin, Greek Letters and the Latin Middle Ages: from Jerome to Nicholas of Cusa, trans. Jerold C. Frakes (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1988 [1980]). On St Gall in particular, see Bernice M. Kaczynski, Greek in the Carolingian Age: The St Gall Manuscripts (Cambridge: Medieval Academy of America, 1988), and more recently, Therese Bruggisser–Lanker, Musik und Liturgie im Kloster St. Gallen in Spätmittelalter und Renaissance (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004).

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documentary evidence.16 David Hiley cautiously states that any Byzantine connection

“must have survived many centuries of unrecorded transmission.”17

One basis for arguing that the early Frankish Credos derived from a common

Greek or eastern melody is presented by Michel Huglo, who discovered a 14th-century

baptismal Credo in Greek that resembles Credo I and the other Vatican Credos analyzed

above. The manuscript is now lost and survives only in Huglo’s transcription.18 A

tabular analysis of the Greek Credo reveals a melodic structure similar to that of Credo I.

These similarities, however, do not mean that the plainchant Credos were influenced by

this Greek Credo or its oral forebears; the Greek Credo may in fact be a Western

redaction of the Latin Credo into Greek. Huglo argues that the prototype of this Greek

melody antedates Credo I, and that because the Greek Creed melody bears resemblance

to other early Greek hymnody, it stands a chance of being considered an ancient Greek

melody. In support of that antiquity he asserts that the melody in this 14th-century

source contains phrases typical of Greek chant.19

To enlarge the search for an Eastern ancestor for the Western plainchant Credos,

we can turn to other early Credo settings for comparison. Kenneth Levy catalogs six

16 See Michel Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authentique’ de la Vaticane,” Revue Grégorienne 30 (1951): 68-78; Kenneth Levy, “Byzantine Sanctus East and West,” 40–42; also, Richard Taruskin, Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), 34–35. 17 Hiley, Western Plainchant, 169. 18 Michel Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authenique’ de la Vaticane.” 19 Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authenique’ de la Vaticane,” 76.

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early Credo melodies (counting the four Vatican Credos as one melody), and all of these

melodies are in the deuterus mode, either authentic or plagal.20

a) Vatican I, II, V, and VI

b) Mozarabic Credimus; this is mostly on a G recitation pitch.21

c) Gallican Credimus, mostly on a G recitation pitch.22

d) The baptismal Credo discovered by Huglo, in transliterated Greek (recitation

on G).23

e) the baptismal Credo in Latin (recitation on F).24

f) the Credo Apostolorum in Latin from the Sens circumcision office (recitation

on C).25

These Creed melodies are all recitational, and none of them are as complex in their

structure as the Vatican Credos II, V, and VI.26

The coincidence of these recitational-style Credo chants in the same mode has

motivated many scholars to argue for a common Greek or Eastern origin of the Creed

20 Levy, “Byzantine Sanctus,” 41. See also Stäblein, “Credo,” 1769. 21 Casiano Rojo and Germán Prado, El Canto Mozarabe, Estudio históricocritico de su antiguedad y estado actual (Barcelona: Diputación Provincial, 1929), 123. 22 Amédée Gastoué, Le Chant Gallican (Grenoble: Saint Grégoire, 1939), 34. 23 Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authenique’ de la Vaticane,” 74–76 24 Ibid., 71–72 25 Office de Pierre de Corbeil (Office de la Circoncision), ed. Henri Villetard (Paris: Alphonse Picard, 1907), 140–41. 26 Levy also refers to the earliest Byzantine melody for the Creed (in that it actually comes from an Eastern source, unless Huglo’s Credo), but it is in a fifteenth-century Byzantine manuscript (Sinai 1527, f. 324v) and may be an import into the Greek liturgy from Latin liturgical traditions. Levy, “The Byzantine Sanctus East and West,” 40.

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plainchants of the Catholic Church. There may have been ample opportunity for this

musical borrowing. Kenneth Levy observes that “we know that Roman musicians at a

time between the ninth and eleventh centuries indulged in the practice of converting

imported melodies into the Roman style.”27 Furthermore, there are obvious structural

and musical connections between the Greek baptismal Creed of Huglo and the Vatican

plainchant Credos.

The Greek Creed (see Appendix B: Reproductions of Early Plainchant Credos)

can be divided into two phrases, like Credo VI. The first phrase, like the second phrase

of Credo I and of Credo VI, focuses on G.

Figure 4: Intonation of the Greek Credo from Huglo, transcription of Cologne Stadtsarchiv W. 105

The second phrase opens with an upward fifth (D-A) and concludes with a cadence on

F; the second phrase’s cadence is introduced by a G-F melisma.

27 Levy, Gregorian Chant and the Carolingians (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), 75.

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Figure 5: Second Phrase of the Greek Credo

Occasionally, the E-F-G pattern of phrase one is reversed (i.e., G-F-E) as a half-cadence—

in a manner similar to that of the connecting phrase (liaison) of Credo I—between

phrases one and two.

Figure 6: Half-cadence of the Greek Credo

A tabular analysis follows, which can be compared to the tabular analyses of Credo I by

Mocquereau and Apel, below:

Table 1: Form Chart of Huglo’s Greek Pysteuo

1st phrase Half-cadence 2nd phrase (cadence italicized)

Pysteuo is ena theon Patera pantocratoran Pitin uranu ke gis Oraton Te panto ke aroaton Ke is ena Kyrion Christon Theneon Tu theu ton monogenin To ek tu patros genithenta Pro panton Ton eonon Fos ek fotos, Theon alithinon Ek theou alithinu Genithenta U pithenta

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Omousyon to patri Diuta panta egeneto(n) (ton) Dymastus antopros ke Dia tin Imeteran sothirian Katelthonta ek tou Uranu ke Sarkothenta ek pnevmatos agion

Tis parthenou

Kai Marias Kai enanthropistnta Stavrothenta te uper imon Epi pontiu pilatu Ke pathonta kai Tafenta Ke anastanta ti triti imera Kata tas grafas ke Anelthonta eis tous Uranus ke Kathe zomenon en dexia Tou patros (ke palin) Erchomenon meta doxis krinai

Zontas kai nekrous Ou tis basi-

Leias Ouk estai telos Ke eis to pneumato agion Kai zoopion Ta ek tou patros ekporevoumenon

(sun) proskynoumenon

Ke syndoxa-zomenon To lalisan (dia ton profiton) Eis mian agian katholikin Ekllisian Omologon (en vaptisma) Eis kresiw amartion Prosdoko anastasin nekron Ke zoin tou mellontos (aionos) amin

Huglo states that “the melody of ‘Pisteuo eis ena’ ignores the embellishment at the accent,

peculiar to the deuxième membre of Credo I, even though the intonation D, A, (B) is not

foreign to Greek hymnography, as one can see from the example of the stichera for the

month of September… .”28 He is referring to the stichera transcribed and edited by Egon

Wellesz. Even a cursory look at the Greek hymns edited by Wellesz reveals frequent use

28 Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authenique’ de la Vaticane,” 78.

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of the interval D-A within Greek ecclesial music, and Wellesz himself states, “The

opening turn of the melody with the fifth-leap A-D-A is typical for a great number of

melodies of the first tone.”29 Other aspects of Greek hymnody align with the general

melodic contour of Credo I. For example, Wellesz notes that “the simplest way of setting

a line to music is the recitation of a number of unaccented syllables on a repeated note,

the tenor, followed by a cadence which starts on the note of recitation. This melodic type

occurs frequently as an opening phrase in the first mode.”30

Aside: Was the Creed sung in the Greek liturgy?

Considering all of these posited connections to a now-lost Greek Credo

prototype for Credo I, it is surprisingly unclear if the Creed was regularly, or even

occasionally, sung as a feature of the Eucharistic liturgy of the Greek church. Anton

Baumstark, writing in 1906, states that “Next to the insertion in every parish in the entire

Orient, a remarkable difference from the Western manner is the fact that the creed was

never sung, not even by the celebrant, but is spoken aloud, including its opening words

by the congregation or by a single assistant priest or cleric on their behalf.”31

29 “Die Anfangswendung der Melodie mit den Quintsprüngen a-d-a ist typisch für eine grosse Zahl von Melodien des 1. Tones, z.B.” Egon Wellesz, Die Hymnen des Sticherarium für September (Copenhagen: Levin & Munksgaard, 1936), 4. 30 Egon Wellesz, A History of Byzantine Music and Hymnography, 1st ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1949), 274. 31 Baumstark, Die Messe im Morgenland, 174. “Einen beachtenswerten Unterschied gegenüber abendländischer Weise bezeichnet nächst der Einfügung in schlechthin jede Messe im gesamten Orient die Tatsache, daß das Glaubensbekenntnis niemals gesungen, auch nicht vom Zelebrant angestimmt, sondern einschließlich seiner Anfangsworte von der Gemeinde oder von einem einzelnen assistierenden Priester oder Kleriker in deren Namen laut gesprochen wird.”

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Baumstark’s statement is certainly true in modern Greek Orthodox worship (though the

Russian tradition does feature a sung Credo), but the accuracy of his statement does not

accord with some earlier testimony.

Four attestations survive as witnesses to the practice of singing the Creed at the

Greek liturgy. The now-lost Pirolamus codex, preserved in an 18th-century edition of the

Greek Euchologion published by French Dominican Jacques Goar, states that “with the

archdeacon leading, all sing the Creed.”32 Another now-lost document, the Johannisburg

codex, records a similar rubric at the Creed. Both documents have been dated to the 10th

or 11th century based on the liturgies they describe.33 A twelfth-century diataxis

preserved in British Museum Add. 34060 gives the rubric: “And thus the clergy chant

with the laity the ‘I believe in one God.’”34 Yet all of these liturgies also depict

extraordinary, festal celebration with the patriarch or bishop present; in other words,

these were not everyday occasions for worship. The fourth attestation comes from

Walafrid Strabo, a 9th-century abbot of Reichenau. He writes:

And note that the Greeks set the Constantinopolitan Creed (which we in imitation of them have taken into our Mass), rather than others, in the sweetness of chant, because it emanated from the Council of Constantinople, and perhaps because it seemed to be

32 Εὐχολογιον Sive Rituale Graecorum, ed. Jacobus Goar (Venice: Bartholomeus Javarina, 1730), 155. In Greek: Καὶ τοῦ Αρχδιακονοῦ ἀρχοµένοῦ, πάντες τὸ σύµβολον ψάλλουσι. 33 cf. Robert F. Taft, “Quaestiones disputatae: The Skeuophylakion of Hagia Sophia and the Entrances of the Liturgy Revisited,” Oriens Christianus 82 (1998):53–87, at 68 ff. 34 Robert F. Taft, “The pontifical liturgy of the Great Church according to a twelfth-century diataxis in codex British Museum Add. 34060,” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 45 (1979):279–307, at 299. Reprinted in Robert F. Taft, Liturgy in Byzantium and Beyond (Burlington: Ashgate, 1995) II. In Greek: Καὶ ὅυτως ψάλλει τὸ ἱερατεῖον µετὰ τοῦ λαοῦ τὸ Πιστεῦω εἰς ἕνα θεόν.

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more suited to the modulations of sounds than the earlier Creed of Nicaea.35

It seems likely that the Creed was sung in Greek worship, at least at celebrations of

particularly high solemnity like episcopal liturgies. Baumstark’s claim that the Creed

was recited in Greek liturgy could perhaps be due to the frequency of Byzantine

liturgical change and reform, a process that continued essentially until the fall of

Constantinople in 1453.36 Levy surmises that “a single modal usage for the Credo may

have spread from Constantinople … to the various parts of the Latin West, beginning

with Spain … and ending at Rome …. It seems possible as well that the same musical

formula would have been used for the shorter baptismal text … .”37 There is no proof for

Levy’s argument other than the concurrence of the early Credos cited above.38 But the

possibility of a sung Credo at the Greek Eucharistic celebration does enhance the

possibility for a common Greek source for the Latin Credos.

3.1.3 Analysis of the Structure of Credo I

A weakness stands in postulating any now-lost or never-written Greek Credo

that served as the basis for the Western plainchant Credos. Although we cannot gain

35 Cited in Levy, “Byzantine Sanctus East and West,” 41. 36 See Thomas Pott, Byzantine Liturgical Reform, trans. Paul Meyendorff (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2010 [2000]). 37 Levy, “Byzantine Sanctus East and West,” 42. 38 James McKinnon concurs with Levy’s hypothesis, arguing that the alternative to a common original melody would be a probably vast oral tradition that was eradicated with no historical record of complaint. James McKinnon, “Antiquity and the Middle Ages,” in Antiquity and the Middle Ages: from Ancient Greece to the 15th Century, ed. James McKinnon (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1991), 68–87, at 80.

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definite answers, an analysis of the extant melodies setting the Credo text reveals a

careful and systematic treatment of the text as an elaborate recitation. As noted above, a

recitational melody with an E final is common to several early Credos. This syllabic style

is found most developed in Credo I. The precision and careful syllabic treatment of the

Credo text marks Credo I and its relatives as compositions of the Frankish chant project.

The influence of a Greek model would be most salient in the modal choice and in the

recitational nature of the Western plainchant melody; yet the Western plainchant

melody uses a more complex recitational structure than any of the simple recitation

melodies mentioned above.

The melody of Credo I resembles a psalm tone, the classic method of psalmody

in the Latin west; psalm tone singing typically breaks a psalm verse in two parts, and

assigns an intonation, recitation, and cadence to each part, with a mediation acting as a

mini-cadence for the first part of the verse. Most of the text syllables occur on the

recitation pitch. The intonation was probably a later intervention, but the use of

recitation and cadence appears to be an early feature of Latin psalmody, evident already

in the mid-9th century and perhaps dating to the rise of Benedictine psalmody.39 The

melody of Credo I bears strong structural similarity to psalm-tone recitation, but there

are several differences that prohibit a perfect analogy. There is no “mediation” (i.e., the

39 Joseph Dyer, “The Singing of Psalms,” Speculum 64 (1989):535–578, at 539.

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break between the two halves of the psalm verse) within the Credo, and quite often

phrases are repeated out of order—a phenomenon never encountered in strict psalm-

tone singing. Nevertheless, approaching Credo I as a variant of a psalm-tone opens up a

view to the sophistication of its text treatment.

The most insightful musicological analysis of Credo I as edited in the Solesmes

edition and its sources remains that of Dom André Mocquereau from 1909.40

Mocquereau provides the primary instances of melodic variance from the early

sources—notably the substitution of A for G within certain phrases.41 The G recitation

pitch is common throughout many of the earliest neumatic Credo sources, but in some

manuscript instances the G recitation is replaced by an A recitation. Mocquereau writes

that the melody is not strictly-speaking Gregorian because of its composition after the

Frankish adoption of Roman chant. He does argue, however, that “the musical style is

clearly Gregorian.”42 He thus analyzes the melody of Credo I to show its clear

relationship with Gregorian melodic patterns.

To illustrate, the intonation (using the term from descriptions of psalm tones) E-

F, which occurs twenty-four times throughout Credo I, is broken up in different ways

40 Dom André Mocquereau, Le chant authentique du Credo selon l’édition vaticane. Analyse mélodique. Extrait présenté au Congrès international d’histoire de la musique, Vienne, 25–29 Mai 1909. (Rome: Impr. S. l’Evangéliste, Desclée, [1909?]). 41 Although it is beyond the scope of this chapter, more research is required to determine the state of the Credo I melody used by polyphonic composers of the late 15th century. Josquin and Obrecht, for example, frequently change the notes of the “liaison” when it appears as a cantus firmus in polyphony, and it is unclear if this change is a regional variant or an accommodation to suit the polyphony. 42 Mocquereau, Le chant authentique du Credo, 4.

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according to the placement of the tonic syllable and how many syllables precede the

tonic.43 He deduces two corollary rules from this. As a positive statement, a tonic accent

must always coincide with the G which immediately follows the intonation. As a

negative statement, a tonic accent can never coincide with the F of the intonation.44

Examples of this abound throughout Credo I, found in all the E-F intonations. For

example,

43 Ibid., 13. 44 Ibid., 14.

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Figure 7: Examples of the tonic accent on G, preceded by E-F

In every case, the tonic stress on G (indicated here by a stress accent over the tonic vowel

in the Figure 7 examples) is preceded by the E-F intonation.

The recitation note G, which follows the E-F intonation, comprises the bulk of the

music of Credo I; this recitation is followed by one of two cadence options, which

Mocquereau calls “cadence A” and “cadence D.”45 “Cadence A” is shown in “Et in

unum Dominum”, (Figure 8) and 19 other phrase endings; “cadence D” (e.g., “terrae”)

(Figure 9) is found five times.

Figure 8: Example of "Cadence A"

Figure 9: Example of "Cadence D"

45 Ibid., 18.

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The formulae distilled by Mocquereau are shown in an abstract form in Figure 10. As a

means of illustrating the Gregorian nature of Credo I, Mocquereau demonstrates that

these recitation formulae correspond to similar recitation formulae from psalm

antiphons (which are, in fact, in a different class of syllabic setting from psalm-tones), all

in the fourth or first mode.46

Figure 10: A distillation of the melodic formulae of Credo I47

Every part of Credo I can be assigned to one of these phrases, and the chart below offers

such an analysis. This tabular analysis of the phrases of Credo I shows that the majority

of the text occurs within the first membre, the melodic phrase with a G recitation pitch.

46 Ibid., 16., fn. 1; in this note, Mocquereau shows in a table intonation phrases from Credo I (“Factorem,” “Crucifixus,” etc.) and compares them to antiphon examples from the Gregorian repertoire. 47 Based on Mocquereau, Le Chant Authentique du Credo, 20

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The first membre has a cadence on E, but in three cases the E resolves further to D

(“omnium,” “dominum,” “catholicam”). The final of the entire Credo is on E.

Table 2: Analysis Table of Credo I, per Mocquereau's membres

First membre and cadence (italics denote cadence); underline denotes the cadence ends on D, not E

Liaison Second membre and cadence (italics denote cadence)

Third membre and cadence (italics denote cadence)

[Credo in] unum deum

Patrem omnipotentem

Factorem caeli et terrae

Visiblium omnium Et invisibilium Et in unum dominum

Jesum Christum Filium Dei unigenitum

[Et ex Pa]tre natum Ante omnia saecula Deum de Deo Lumen de lumine Deum verum De Deo vero Genitum non factum [Consubstantialem]

Patri Per quem omnia facta sunt

Qui propter nos homines

[et propter nostram salutem]

Descendit de caelis

Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto Ex Maria virgine Et homo factus est Crucifixus etiam Pro nobis Sub Pontio Pilato Passus et sepultus

est

Et resurrexit Tertia die Secundum scripturas Et ascendit In caelum Sedet ad dexteram

patris

Et iterum venturus est cum Gloria

Judicare Vivos et mortuos Cuius regni non erit finis

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Et in Spiritum Sanctum Dominum

Et vivificantem Qui ex Patre et filioque procedit

Qui cum Patre et Filio

simul Adoratur Et conglorificador Qui locutus est per prophetas

Et unam sanctam catholicam

Et apostolicam Ecclesiam

Confiteor unum baptisma

in Remissionem peccatorum

Et exspecto Resurrectionem Mortuorum Et vitam venturi [sae]culi

In contrast to Mocquereau’s analysis, Willi Apel argues that Credo I has a

structure similar to a tract, an analytical frame which he states “provides a better insight

into the formative principles of this interesting melody than the interpretations of

Mocquereau and Wagner… .”48 Like tracts, Credo I has four formulae “which recur, in

different selections and combinations, with each ‘verse’ of the text.”49 Of course, unlike

all the examples of the tract repertory, which have either D or G finals, Credo I has an E

final. Nonetheless, both the Credo melody and the 8th- and 9th-century tracts use a

system of melodic formulae, generally in three groups—intonation, recitation, and

cadence. The tract compositions of the ninth century are more formulaic in their settings

of texts.50 Apel’s analysis divides Credo I into four standard formulae, which are

48 Willi Apel, Gregorian Chant (Bloomington: University of Indiana Press, 1958), 414. 49 Ibid., 413. 50 Cf. James W. McKinnon, “Tract,” in Grove Music Online. McKinnon writes, “the inclusion of 9th- and 10th-century additions to the original repertory within most of the published systems of analysis has resulted in

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obviously similar to Mocquereau’s three members (A=third membre, B=first membre,

D=second membre, and C=liaison):

Figure 11: Apel's four formulae for Credo I, from Gregorian Chant 413

Apel’s analysis can therefore be tabulated in a manner similar to Mocquereau’s:

Table 3: Analysis Table of Credo I, per Apel’s formulae

“free” Phrase A Phrase B Phrase C Phrase D Credo in unum Deum

Patrem omnipotentem

somewhat exaggerated estimates of the tract's melodic homogeneity, because later tracts are generally more stereotyped in their formulaic usage.”

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Factorem caeli et terrae

Visibilium omnium

Et invisiblium

Et in unum dominum

Jesum Christum Filium Dei unigenitum

Et ex Patre natum Ante omnia saecula

Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine

Deum verum De Deo vero

Genitum, non factum

Consubstantialem Patri

Per quem omnia facta sunt

Qui propter nos homines

[Et propter nostram salutem]51

Descendit de caelis

Et incarnatus est

De Spiritu Sancto Ex Maria Virgine

Et homo factus est

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis

Sub Pontio Pilato

Passus, et sepultus est

Et resurrexit tertia die

Secundum Scripturas

Et ascendit in caelum

Sedet ad dexteram Patris

Et iterum

venturus est [cum gloria]52 Judicare Vivos et

mortuos

51 Apel does not account for this phrase, which is most similar to “C” in his analysis because of the final two notes. 52 Not indicated in Apel’s description (Apel 414, no. 12), though “B” seems to work best here because of the final two notes.

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Cuius regni non erit finis

Et in Spiritum Sanctum Dominum

Et vivificantem

Qui ex Patre Filioque procedit

Qui cum Patre et Filio

Simul adoratur Et conglorificatur

Qui locutus est per Prophetas

Et unam sanctam catholicam

Et apostolicam Ecclesiam

Confiteor unum baptisma

In remissionem peccatorum

Et expecto [resurrectionem]53

Mortuorum Et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen.

Apel’s analytical model is not as sensitive or flexible as Mocquereau’s, primarily

because Apel is resistant to considering the melody as representative of a psalm tone. He

states that the double repetition of the final phrases at “Ex Maria Virgine | Et homo

factus est” and “Sub Pontio Pilato | Passus et sepultus est” is not allowed under the

typical understanding of a psalm tone as intonation, recitation, and cadence; tracts, on

the other hand, regularly feature “double terminations.” Nevertheless, Apel and

Mocquereau reach similar conclusions and analyses regarding the formulaic structure of

53 Not indicated in Apel’s description (Apel, 414, no. 17), but it is apparently an oversight or mistake in his analysis.

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Credo I, as well as the relationship of those individual cells with each other. Any

melodic similarities of the Credo I melody and tracts may suggest a chronological link

between the two, but such an argument is difficult to prove.

Ultimately, both Apel and Mocquereau identify Credo I as composed of largely

stepwise multi-formulaic recitation. Neither the term “tract” nor “psalm-tone” is

completely accurate in describing the Credo melody, despite its relationship to other

recitational chant compositions with a moveable recitation pitch (most famously, the

“Tonus Peregrinus”). The clearest conclusion to draw from the multiplicity of recitation-

pitch analyses is that Credo I bears a family resemblance to other 9th- and 10th-century

recitational plainchant compositions.

It is clearly difficult to assign a “genre” to Credo I for analysis. It is neither

precisely a psalm-tone, nor is it like a tract other than in using a repetitive structure. The

difficulty in assigning Credo I a genre for analysis has to do with its probable Eastern

origin. The comments of Apel and Huglo point to Eastern provenance; analysis of

Byzantine melodies by Egon Wellesz reveals that some of the common features of

Byzantine melodies are seen in Credo I.

3.1.4 Arguments for a borrowed Greek melody

The Credo I melody clearly is a product of the Frankish compositional school.

Along with many other musical and liturgical elements, however, I support the

arguments presented above that Credo I represents the importation and adaptation of

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Greek liturgical traditions. Other examples of this adaptation include the Oktoechos or

eight-mode system, as well as several melodies and liturgical texts. Importing melodies

from the East was certainly in vogue among the Carolingian and Roman church

musicians. Kenneth Levy details such a borrowing in the antiphons for the octave of

Epiphany:

Concerning the second question, we know that Roman musicians at a time between the ninth and eleventh centuries indulged in the practice of converting imported melodies to prevailing Roman style. Most obvious is the case of the Veterem hominem antiphons for the Epiphany Octave. These were originally Byzantine hymn-strophes which underwent textual and musical translations at Aachen in 802, being turned at Charlemagne’s request from Greek into Latin, and from Byzantine into GREG melos. Then the Gregorianised antiphons made their way to Rome. At whatever time they appeared, the Roman musicians were still committed to their local melodic dialect, for they made the further conversion, turning the antiphons from GREG into ROM melos. The earlier Byzantine and GREG melodic shapes are still discernible beneath the ROM stylisation, but the local details represent an idiomatic Roman overlay. At some later time—by the later eleventh century, when the manuscripts begin—the Roman musicians were no longer indulging in such conversions.54

In likewise fashion the early Western plainchant Credos might represent

“Gregorianized” (or Frank-icized) versions of earlier music.

What would inspire the Frankish chant composers to use an Eastern Creed

melody? As explored in chapter two, the Frankish theologians took issue with the lack of

54 Levy, Gregorian Chant and the Carolingians, 75.

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filioque in the Greek Creed, thus establishing a theological impetus for mimicking and

correcting Greek musical forms. In other words, the plainchant music served as a

corrective for perceived faulty Greek theological pronouncements. Politically, the Franks

sought territorial expansion in Western Europe, especially in Italy, and sought

recognition from the Pope as an authentic empire. In a way then, they were positing

themselves as the “Roman” Empire, in place of the Byzantine (“New Roman”) Empire

both theologically and politically. The proliferation of the Creed, then, was possibly one

aspect of this cultural project of supplanting the established empire of the East. If there is

a Greek origin for Credo I, the composition of a new Credo in imitation of it is no doubt

ironic, as the Frankish project sought to supplant Greek influence.55

Several interior details of Huglo’s 14th-century Creed exhibit Eastern features—

the intonation, the recitation, the liaison, the cadences “are all inspired by the

architecture of the Greek symbol.”56 But, as Huglo concludes, “inspiration does not

mean copy. The composer of the Palatine chapel is not content with a material

adaptation of the Greek melody to a new Latin text: he simply borrowed from it its

principal elements; being inspired by everything in his model, he knew to make an

55 Before his coronation Charlemagne was also erecting a copy of the building which held the throne of the Byzantine rulers, with modifications “to take account of the different theological and political views which the Franks upheld.” Heinrich Fichtenau, The Carolingian Empire: The Age of Charlemagne, trans. Peter Munz (New York: Harper and Row, 1964 [1957]), 69. As explained at the end of the second chapter, these Byzantine emulations and overtures were broader attempts of a cultural campaign on behalf of Charlemagne to establish his empire as a (or the) legitimate Christian empire of Europe. 56 Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie du Credo ‘authentique’ de la Vaticane,” 78.

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original work. And one must know well that at the middle of some elements, assemblies

and formulae, he perfectly reunited to produce a masterwork of regularity and of

simplicity.”57 Therefore this Greek Credo is probably an example of a musical composite,

of borrowed elements of Greek chant known to the 14th-century composer.

Do the other items of the Mass Ordinary exhibit any resemblance to Greek

music? Apel points to the Gloria of Mass XV as possibly the oldest Gloria melody that

has survived, but it is structured on the model of a psalm tone, and thus clearly a

Frankish innovation. The oldest Kyries appear to exhibit marks of Gregorian

composition, possibly even in simple melodies for congregational singing.58 Apel states

that the oldest Sanctus melody is that of Mass XVIII.59 This Sanctus is syllabic in

presentation and resembles other Gregorian psalmodic compositions. The Agnus Dei

chants resemble those of the Kyrie: the oldest ones are written in an archaic, Gregorian

style. Because the other movements of the Ordinary were sung in the church in Rome, it

would make sense that those older melodies were imported; but the Credo, because it

was not sung in the Roman church, had to be newly composed for Charlemagne’s court.

The Hellenic marks of this composition show a concern with ecclesial authenticity and

political power, two of the primary concerns of Charlemagne’s reign.

57 Ibid. 58 Apel, 406–7. 59 Apel, 415.

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3.2 Period II: Canto fratto and late medieval melodies, 1300–1500

Unlike other mass ordinary chants, the Credo existed with very few melodic

options for virtually the entirety of its early history until 1300. After this long stretch of

chant history with only one appropriate liturgical melody, about 70 new Creed melodies

were composed and circulated between 1300 and 1500. The most prominent feature of

these new Credos is that they were written with mensural note shapes, a chant style

usually called canto fratto. Marco Gozzi defines cantus fractus, or canto fratto in Italian, as

“a type of Christian liturgical chant in Latin that makes use of proportional rhythmic

values in its notation and is therefore measured.”60 Joseph Dyer states that “cantus-

fractus melodies employ the familiar shapes of black mensural notation—long, breve,

dotted breve, semibreve and minim—derived from the system of chant notation current

when the mensural system was developed in the thirteenth century.”61

We can identify two of these newly composed canto fratto Credo melodies as

significantly more popular than the others: the credos known as “Cardinalis” and

“Apostolorum” seem to have had some kind of official status. While a substantial part of

the rest of this dissertation is devoted to uncovering the cultural and religious

background of these new Credos, and of changes to the musical Credo more generally,

60 Marco Gozzi, “Prefazione,” in Cantus fractus italiano: Un’antologia, ed. Marco Gozzi (Hildesheim: Olms, 2012). Translation from Joseph Dyer,” A New Source,” 571. Dyer points out in fn. 6 that the definition of “cantus fractus” offered in “Cantus” in New Grove uses Tinctoris’s definition of “a long note value being broke into smaller parts.” 61 Dyer, “A New Source,” 577.

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these canto fratto Credos form the ground-level of 14th- and 15th-century musical changes.

They are musically and rhythmically interesting, they are used in new ways in

manuscripts, and they become a genre unto themselves, even being collected in some

Credo “omnibus” manuscripts from the 15th and early 16th centuries.

3.2.1 The origin of canto fratto Credos

The historical origins of the new Credos remain murky. In 1992 Richard Sherr

wrote that “Credo IV [i.e., Cardinalis] is, in fact, one of the first of the hundreds of new

Credo settings that were produced from the fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries, a

phenomenon that has been noted, but little studied.” In a footnote, he adds: “It is not

clear why, after approximately 500 years, there was this need to have new musical

settings to replace the standard ‘Credo I.’”62 More recently, Joseph Dyer described the

state of the question in researching canto fratto in general: “A comprehensive survey of

the phenomenon in Italy or elsewhere in Europe remains to be written, so large and

widely disseminated was this repertoire.”63

Marco Gozzi, the foremost scholar to have studied canto fratto, has argued that

the Credo Cardinalis, which Sherr refers to above as Credo IV, is the oldest of the canto

fratto credos. He speculates that “the genesis of the composition… dates back to the first

62 Richard Sherr, “The Performance of Chant in the Renaissance and its Interactions with Polyphony,” in Plainsong in the Age of Polyphony, ed. Thomas Forrest Kelly (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 178–208, at 189 and n.25 63 Dyer, “A New Source,” 576.

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half of the 14th century… .”64 Based on similarities between the Credo Cardinalis and the

Credo from Machaut’s Messe de Nostre Dame, he writes that “I would like to find a

document that attributes the Cardinalis to Machaut, but I do not think it is a likely

event.”65

It is difficult to construct a chronology of the newer canto fratto Credos. These are

the dates we can state with some certainty:

• The oldest setting of Credo Cardinalis is preserved in a Padovan

manuscript from the early 14th century, Padova Biblioteca Capitolare A20,

c.85.66

• Gozzi identifies Paris Lat. 1343 as the manuscript containing the oldest

example of a Credo in mensural notation; Hugo Anglès and Gilbert

Reaney identify it as a late-13th century manuscript compiled during the

lifetime of Charles II of Anjou, King of Sicily (1285–1309).67 Lauer’s

Catalogue Général des Manuscrits Latins also describes it as “fin XIIIe–XIVe

s.”68 This manuscript was “apparently copied at the behest of Charles…,

64 Gozzi, “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto. Il ‘Credo Cardinalis’,” Musica e Storia 14(2006):245–301. 65 Marco Gozzi, “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto. Il ‘Credo Cardinalis,’” in Musica e Storia 14 no. 2 (2006), Tavola 1. 66 Gozzi notes that Miazga errantly dates this to c. 1400 in his catalog. “Alle Origini del canto fratto” Tavola 1, 267. 67 Anglès, Paris Lat. 1343, 380. Gozzi, “”Alle Origini,” 250. Gilbert Reaney, RISM B/IV/1, 404. 68 Catalogue Général des Manuscrits Latins, ed. Philippe Lauer (Paris: Bibliothèque National, 1939), vol. 1, 504.

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quite possibly at Paris,” according to Karl Kügle.69 It contains the Credo

known as Credo Regis or Credo Apostolorum on f.47r–50v.

• The Credo I melody was notated in canto fratto style beginning in the 14th

century. One of the earliest manuscripts containing a mensural Credo I is

Vatican Barb. Lat. 657, a Missale and Kyriale from the late 14th and early

15th centuries.

3.2.2 14th-century evidence for the beginnings of Canto Fratto

Most of the musical evidence suggests an early 14th-century beginning for the

canto fratto Credos, with the earliest possible manuscript being the Paris Lat. 1434

manuscript from the late 13th century. Karl Kügle argues this, looking particularly at

Spanish and French examples of rhythmic Credos.70 He states:

…[I]t is by no means unlikely that the two monophonic, mensural Credo settings reached Spain some time during the 14th century. This would not only push the date of composition for monophonic mensural settings of the Mass Ordinary back at least into the late 1300s, it would also allow for the possibility that the two Credo settings reached Spain from France through channels similar to those responsible for the dissemination of the contemporaneous polyphonic French repertory of the Iberian peninsula. If so, the possibility arises that monophonic mensural chants for the Mass liturgy originated at the very time and place where mensural monophony was most elaborately cultivated, and

69 Kügle, “A fresh look at the liturgical settings in manuscript Ivrea, Bibl. Cap. 115,” Revista de Musicología 16, no. 4 (1993): 2452–2475, at 2456 n.10. 70 Karl Kügle, “A Fresh Look,” 2456-60.

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a new repertory for the embellishment of the Mass liturgy created—early 14th century France.71

Kügle points out that several 14th-century manuscripts preserve both monophonic and

polyphonic versions of the Credo. One of the most well-known is Ivrea 115, a c. 1385

redaction and copy of an earlier French repertory dating from 1359.72 He concludes that

“the findings of Ivrea 115 … suggest that a corpus of mensurally notated monophony

for the liturgy emanated from the same milieu that gave rise not only to the new

polyphonic, liturgical repertory, but also to the great mensural, monophonic genres of

the 14th century, lai and virelai—a milieu to be sought among the great cathedrals… and,

above all, the princely households and chapels of France.”73 In other words, it seems

likely that 14th-century mass polyphony and monophony using mensural note shapes—

particularly evidenced in the monophonic Credos—arose out of the same musical

environment in which wealthy patrons, chapters and foundations supported the

production of mass and liturgy music which embellished the solemnity of the service.

To push Kügle’s argument even further, it is possible that the monophonic

Credos chronologically precede polyphonic Credos. The earliest monophonic Credos

appear in the late 13th and early 14th centuries, taking Paris Lat. 1434 as the earliest,

according to the catalogs of Miazga and the research of Marco Gozzi. This musical

71 Kügle, “A Fresh Look,” 2460. 72 cf. Karl Kügle, “Codex Ivrea, Bibl. Cap. 115: a French source ‘made in Italy’,” Revista de Musicología 13 (1990): 527-561, at 534, 549. 73 Kügle, “A Fresh Look,” 2472.

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development coincides with the earliest examples of polyphonic settings for the other

four ordinary movements—Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei. The proliferation of

the monophonic Credo settings thus comes into further focus: as musical ornaments of

the liturgy began to increase in size and scope, the Credo was one of the main targets,

perhaps because of the relative paucity of plainchant Credo settings leading up to the

period of musical expansion.

3.2.3 Early mass polyphony and its relationship to the Credo

In this section, I offer a survey of what we know about mass ordinary polyphony

before 1400. I argue that the origins of the canto fratto credos are linked to the early

polyphonic mass ordinary settings of 14th-century France, which are the first polyphonic

treatments of the ordinary we can consider as normative for the rest of music history; in

other words, there were earlier attempts at mass ordinary polyphony, but none of them

were popular across the continent and England before the 14th-century polyphony of

France.

Outside the musical theory treatises on organum from the 10th century, the

earliest mass polyphony are settings of the proper in the 11th century. The earliest

examples of polyphonic ordinary music are in the 11th-century Winchester Troper,

including seven troped Glorias and twelve Kyries (four troped, eight untroped).74

74 Theodor Göllner, “Mass,” Section II. The Polyphonic Mass to 1600, 1. Early organum to the school of Notre Dame. In James W. McKinnon et al., “Mass,” Grove Music Online.

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Chronologically, the next great sources of ordinary polyphony were the manuscripts

from the Notre Dame polyphonic school, though the contents of those manuscripts focus

mostly on chants for responsorial psalmody—especially, the gradual and the alleluia.

W1 contains troped and untroped Kyrie, Sanctus, Agnus, and Gloria chants in fascicles

3, 8, 9, and 11.75 The troped ordinary chants of the eleventh fascicle all pertain to Marian

feasts.76 Theodore Göllner lists several other 13th and 14th century manuscripts containing

polyphonic mass movements, including the famous “Codex las Huelgas,” c. 1300.

The organa style of mass polyphony, however, remained largely a localized

phenomenon in areas within the orbit of the Notre Dame school, and was not a

continent-wide musical style. Göllner affirms this: “It would be only partly correct to

explain [the disappearance of proper chants from the polyphonic repertoire] simply as a

sudden break with tradition, for it is not from the old musical centre of Notre Dame,

with its exclusive emphasis on the gradual and alleluia, that 14th-century practices

regarding the use of polyphony in the Mass can be derived.”77 He points instead to the

“provincial” traditions of polyphonic singing of the ordinary in France, England, and

75 David Hiley, “Ordinary of mass chants in English, North French and Sicilian manuscripts,” Journal of the Plainsong & Mediaeval Music Society 9(1986):1–128, at 67–80. 76 McKinnon et al., “Mass.” 77 James W. McKinnon et al., “Mass,” in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie (New York: Macmillan, 1987), vol. 11, 782.

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Spain. “The only real break with tradition,” he concludes, “is that 14th-century

composers preferred the untroped chants of the ordinary.”78

Maricarmen Gómez, in an update to Göllner’s older article, observes that nearly

all of the mass polyphony of the 14th century is related to the papal residence at

Avignon.79 Indeed, the three most important sources of the French repertory are the Apt

choirbook, the Ivrea codex, and the manuscript Barcelona Catedra Basilica M971; as

shown above, the Apt and Ivrea sources contain both monophonic and polyphonic

Credos. In fact, the musical and compositional similarities between the two styles—

monophonic and polyphonic mass ordinary writing of the 14th century—are close

enough to propose a common origin for these repertories.

If it is true that the polyphonic and monophonic settings of the mass ordinary

emerged at the same time and in the same place, it is probable that they are musically

and contextually related. It is possible that the monophonic Credos using mensural note

shapes preceded the earliest polyphonic essays. As mentioned above, the “Little Office

of the Blessed Virgin Mary” manuscript, Paris Lat. 1343, contains the melody for the

Credo Regis. Anglès describes it as being written using mensural note shapes, and the

manuscript as a whole preserves many examples of hymns and sequences that illustrate

that. The manner of notating rhythm in Paris Lat. 1343 bears notation remarkably

78 ibid. 79 Maricarmen Gómez, “Mass,” Section II. The Polyphonic Mass to 1600, 3. The rise of the polyphonic Mass Ordinary in the 14th century.” In James W. McKinnon et al., “Mass,” Grove Music Online.

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consistent with sources centuries later. The chart below compares the rhythmic notation

of the Credo Regis across three manuscripts from three centuries—the 13th-century Paris

1343, 14th-century Gorizia H, and 15th-century Lucca 2645. Ligatures are in brackets.

Table 4: Comparison of notation for Credo Regis across 3 manuscripts

Word P Bn lat.1343 Gorizia H Lucca 2645

Credo in unum deum

L L L L L L L L L L L L L L (not notated)

Patrem [LL]L [BB] B [LL] L

Omnipotentem B L L [BL] L B B B [SS] B B B B [SS] B

Factorem B B B B B B B B B

Celi B B B B B B

et B B B

Terre [SS] [LB] S [SS] [SS] B [SS][SS] B

Visiblium B B [SS][SS] B B B [SS] [SS] B B B [SS] [SS] B

Omnium B [SS] B B [SS] B B [SS] B

Et B B B

Invisibilium B B B B [SS] B B B B B B [SS] S S B B B B B [SS] [SS] B

Et B B B

In [SS] [SS] [SS]

Unum B B B B B B

Dominum B [SS] B B [SS] B B [SS] B

Ihesum [SS] [SS?] [SS] [SS] [SS] [SS]

Xristum B [SS] B B [SS] B B [SS] S B

Filium B [SS] B B [SS] B B [SS] B

Dei B B B B B B

Unigenitum S S [SS] S B B S S [SS] S S B B S S [SS] [SS] B

Et B B B

Ex B B B

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Patre B B B B BB

Natum [SS] B [SS] B [SS] B

Ante B B B B B B

Omnia S S S B B B B B B

Saecula B [SS] B B [SS] B B [SS] B

Deum L L B B B B

De L B B

Deo [SS] B [SS] B [SS] B

Lumen B B B B B B

De B B B

Lumine S S B S S B S S B

Deum S S S S S S

Verum B B B B B B

De B B B

Deo B B B B B B

Vero [SS] [SS] B [SS] [SS] B [SS] [SS] B

The notation, notehead, and ligature choice are nearly identical from manuscript

to manuscript, showing a strong consistency in the scribal and notational diffusion of

the melody. It is likely that the Paris Lat. 1343 manuscript is a representative of the

earliest layer of that notational tradition.

Yet, the earliest monophonic Credos—Credo Regis and Credo Cardinalis—

sound as if they are in different musical worlds compared to their polyphonic relatives.

Hannah Stäblein–Harder observes three distinct musical styles of mass music

composition for the Apt and Ivrea codices and of similar 14th-century French mass

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music.80 The “motet” style follows the pattern of isorhythmic motets with a tenor

holding long sustained notes and two quicker upper voices with text declaiming the

mass text. The “discant” or conductus style (also called homorhythmic or simultaneous

style) is similar to secular song, with only one texted voice. The “simultaneous” style is

possibly a notated relative to improvised polyphony, and is also described as

“conductus style”; it features simultaneous text declamation in all voices.

Because of their long texts, Glorias and Credos were most frequently written in

the discant style. It is difficult to tell if the relative simplicity of this corpus of mass

ordinary polyphony represents a “countervailing tendency toward modesty and

simplification” which Taruskin proposes in response to the burgeoning complexity of

the motets, or if, more accurately, it developed out of a different, monophonic musical

tradition which was not invested with the historical and inherited complexity of

isorhythmic motets.81

Indeed, Gómez showed a link between a mensural monophonic version of Credo

I and a polyphonic version of the same Credo in the manuscript Madrid 1361.82 There is

undoubtedly a deeper layer to this connection between early mass monophony and

polyphony. Karl Kügle speculates that “polyphonic elaboration of such monophonic

80 Hannah Stäblein–Harder, Fourteenth–Century Mass Music in France: Critical Text. Companion volume to Corpus Mensurabilis Musicae 29. [n.p.] American Institute of Musicology, 1962, 11-21. 81 Taruskin, Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century, 311. 82 Gómez, “Autour du répertoire du XIVe siècle du manuscrit M 1361 de la Bibliothèque nationale de Madrid,” in Aspects de la Musique liturgique au Moyen Age (1991), 245–60.

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settings was never far from the mind of ecclesiastic musicians…,” appealing especially

to the tradition of polyphonic sequences and mass ordinary. 83 Because the monophonic

versions align most with the discant style, a compositional style which can swiftly move

through text, a further connection between the monophonic and polyphonic mass

Credos is probable.

Of the three mass ordinary musical styles delineated by Stäblein–Harder, the

melodies of the simultaneous style bear the most resemblance to the existing

monophonic repertoire. For example, Reinhard Strohm observes similarities between

Credo “Bonbarde,” a simultaneous-style Credo in the Apt codex, and the Credo

Cardinalis: “Its [Bonbarde’s] melody is not one of the known Credo plainsongs,

although it resembles some of them, for example by its restriction to the octave range d–

d’ (exceeded only rarely with steps to e’) and its use of melodic shapes which are typical

for the first mode.”84 The beginning of this tenor is given in Figure 12, below.

83 Ibid. 84 Strohm, The Rise of European Music, 30.

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Figure 12: Credo "Bonbarde," adapted from Strohm, 27 ff.

Compare this to the Credo No. 32 from Miazga’s catalog, the beginning of which is

presented in Figure 13.

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Figure 13: Credo, Miazga 32, transcribed from Arezzo E

The canto fratto Credo melody is more dramatic, reaching an 11th (From D’ to G”) within

the first 11 bars. The strong sense of a duple meter is present in both, though the two

melodies treat the squareness differently. M32 is more sensitive to the text of the Credo,

whereas the Bonbarde tenor has some odd accentuations on the Latin text (e.g., m.4,

“om-ni-po-ten-tem,” and m.18, “filium De-i”). The Bonbarde tenor runs more quickly

through the text, though they take similar amounts of time at certain moments (e.g.,

“unigenitum”). The generic affiliation is apparent, though: two different melodies take

their melodic cues for the Credo text from a 14th-century mass ordinary tradition that is

manifest both monophonically and polyphonically.

Pa trem- om ni- pot- en- tem- fac to- rem- ce li- et ter re- vi si- -

5

bi li- um- om ni- um.- Et in vi- si- bi- li- um.-

10

Et in u num- do mi- num- Ie sum- Chri stum- fi li- um- de i- u ni- -

15 20

ge ni- tum- Et ex pa tre- na tum-

25

an te- om ni- a- se cu- la.-

&

Credo 32transcribed from Arezzo E

&

&

&

&

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙b œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œb w

˙ ˙ ˙b ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙b ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙

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One further area of concord between the canto fratto Credos and the early

polyphonic Credos is in their cadences. The oldest canto fratto Credos—specifically

Credo Cardinalis and Credo Regis—have melodic cadences which resemble those of

some polyphonic Credos, especially those of Machaut’s Credo.85 Other canto fratto

Credos resemble cadences of the Credos in the Apt and Ivrea codices. The most common

cadence of the Credos in all three styles (motet, discant, simultaneous) is the 7-2/8-1

cadence typical of 13th- and 14th-century polyphony.

3.2.4 Descriptions of the Canto Fratto melodies86

3.2.4.1 Rhythmic versions of Credo I

Credo I represents a unique case among all monophonic Credos in that it

underwent a transition from non-rhythmic to rhythmic notation. As mentioned above,

the earliest manuscripts which contain Credo I are in nondiastemmatic notation, an

inaccurate notation but still recognizable as the Credo I melody in the Vatican Edition

today. Manuscripts in the late 13th century begin to exhibit a shift toward rhythmic

notation. Arezzo Cesa 1, for example, is a manuscript from between 1275–1300 which

exhibits a simple rhythm for Credo I, using two note values (semibreve and long). By the

fourteenth century, an abundance of versions of Credo I were written in the full canto

fratto style, using a variety of note shapes (long, breve, semibreve, and ligatures), and

85 This idea is argued by Gozzi in “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto,” especially 254–262. 86 Transcriptions of these melodies are available in Appendix C: Transcriptions of Canto Fratto Credos.

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mostly consistent across manuscripts in rhythm. A number of outliers persisted,

however: Credo I continued being copied in non-rhythmic plainchant notation, as well

as in other rhythmic patterns which were not “standard.” These notational features and

changes can be observed over a number of representative manuscripts.87

We can trace the changing patterns of Credo I across these manuscripts, with the

introduction of rhythmic notation in the 13th century and the codification of that rhythm

in the 14th. Despite the existence of rhythmic outliers, and the coexistence of non-

rhythmic Credo I sources, the “canonical” rhythm of Credo I persisted even in

polyphonic cantus firmus voices. Richard Sherr has traced the persistence of these

rhythms over 35 15th- and 16th-century polyphonic Credo I cantus firmi. Sherr does not

speculate as to the origin of these rhythms, but they probably did not originate

gradually. Rather, the origins and earliest notations of these rhythmic Credo I settings

suggests a quick and punctuated change, rather than a gradual one, in the singing of

Credo I as a rhythmic melody.

3.2.4.2 Credo Cardinalis (M279)

The second-most popular Credo was the Credo Cardinalis; Miazga’s catalog lists

32 manuscripts from the 14th and 15th centuries containing the Cardinalis, and several

87 Neumatic notation: Bamberg Staatsbibliothek lit.6 (The Bamberg manuscript) (10th century); London, British Museum add.30845 (10th century); Paris BN lat.887; Paris lat.776; Diastemmatic neumes: London add.18031 Non-rhythmic plainchant on 5-line staff: Paris BN lat.17328

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more from the early 16th century; Gozzi, writing over thirty years after Miazga’s initial

catalog, lists 67 manuscripts with the Cardinalis.88 I will examine the Credo Cardinalis in

more depth in Chapters Four and Six, including investigating its origin and name. The

earliest manuscript is a Paduan manuscript from the beginning of the 14th century

(Padova, Biblioteca Capitolare A20*, c.85), and it also exists in many manuscript

witnesses preserving two-voiced versions. The Credo Cardinalis was preserved in the

Vatican Edition as Credo IV. Many scholars do not understand that it originated as a

mensural Creed, which was then turned into nonmensural plainchant by the 19th-

century Solesmes editors of the Vatican chant books.89 The Credo Cardinalis is also

notable in that it was used as a cantus firmus in several polyphonic settings from the 15th

century, including Credos by van Weerbecke, de la Rue, and Brumel.

3.2.4.3 Credo Apostolorum (M319)

The third of the “canonical” Credo melodies is the Credo Apostolorum, also called

the Credo Regis. As described above, the earliest manuscript preserving this melody is

Paris Lat. 1343, an office for the Virgin Mary gathered together by King Charles II of

Anjou (r.1285–1309).90 The manuscript has been dated to the late 13th or early 14th

88 Gozzi, “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto,” Tavola 1. 89 Thus, Frank d'Accone refers to a “mensural version” and the “original Gregorian melody” of the Cardinalis melody, implying that it was originally a Gregorian melody which became rhythmicized (like Credo I). Frank D’Accone, The Civic Muse: Music and Musicians in Siena during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), 96–7. 90 Anglès, Hygini, “Eine Sequenzsammlung mit Mensuralnotation und volkstümlichen Melodien (Paris, B.N. lat. 1343),” Scripta Musicologica, ed. Iosephi López-Calo (Roma: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1975–

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century, primarily because of the connection with King Charles; this royal origin might

explain the nickname Regis. The Apostolorum was about equally popular as the

Cardinalis; Miazga records 36 manuscripts between 1300 and 1500 which contain the

Credo Apostolorum. It is possible that the Credo Apostolorum attained some sort of official

status from religious orders such as the Dominicans or Franciscans. It appears in many

manuscripts associated with Dominican foundations, and was added into some older

manuscripts in a clearly different hand.91 The Credo Apostolorum was not used as a

polyphonic cantus firmus in any known polyphonic mass settings of the 14th or 15th

centuries.

I refer to these three Credo settings (Credo I, Credo Cardinalis and Credo

Apostolorum) as “canonical” because in most manuscripts from the 14th and 15th

centuries, one of them is included amidst a collection of Credos. Of the fifty-six

manuscripts I have consulted for this study, only twelve had no presence of any of the

“canonical” Credos. All three of these Credos obtained official or semi-official status by

virtue of their common usage.

76), Vol. 1, 375–86. 91 See for example Gorizia H, a 14th-century manuscript which adds this Credo in. Other manuscripts which appear to have this Credo added in include: Lucca 2690, Lucca 2645, and Pistoia 100,

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3.2.4.4 Other canto fratto Credo melodies

A number of other Credos attained popularity in the 14th and 15th centuries.

These include:

• M32, preserved in 15 manuscripts from the 14th and 15th centuries in

Miazga’s catalog. This Credo presents a strong duple meter, and is rather

repetitive in its text setting. It is not preserved with a name, like some of

the other Credos, but merely survives in some manuscripts as

“Symbolum.”92 This name is not unique to this Credo, however, as the

Latin sources regularly use the Greek title “Symbolum” to describe the

Creed (the “Symbol of Faith”).

• M113, preserved in 33 manuscripts from the 15th century in Miazga’s

catalog. The earliest manuscripts preserving this melody are from the

mid-15th century—BSB Clm.9508 (f.284v) is the oldest recorded by Miazga

with a determinable date, in this case from the 1450s. The melody is

repetitive, and several manuscripts divide the music between “chorus”

and “organum,” an early attempt at alternatim-style settings. Nonetheless,

the text appears shoehorned into a preexisting melodic and rhythmic

scheme. It is named with a rubric in at least one source, St Gall 546, which

92 BSB Clm. 9508 283v for example.

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gives “ad natum de festi,” for feasts of nativity (perhaps including the

Nativity of the Virgin and the Nativity of John the Baptist).

• M194 is preserved in nine manuscripts from the 15th century, and several

dozen more from later centuries. It was an extremely popular melody,

and is preserved in the Vatican Edition as Credo III; the Solesmes editors

give the date as 17th c. It is likely a late-15th-century melody, preserved

with the titles “Angelorum” or “Hispanos” in different manuscripts.93

The name “Hispanos” indicates a possible Spanish origin, though that is

difficult to determine. It is also frequently found in alternatim settings,

especially in 16th- and 17th-century manuscripts. This melody remains one

of the most popular settings of chant Credos performed in churches

today.

• M450 is recorded in eleven manuscripts from the 14th and 15th centuries.

Unlike the other Credos discussed above, it has survived in major

prolation, i.e., three semibreves-per-breve, or 6/8 in modern

transcriptions. None of the sources I have consulted gives names, but

several of them abbreviate the text and music of the Credo. For example,

93 Pistoia B.8, 54r titles it “hispanos.”

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Wroclaw R 3067, a 15th-century manuscript compiled for a parish church,

moves from “Passus et sepultus est” to “Amen.”

• M628 survives in eight manuscripts from the 15th century recorded in

Miazga’s catalog. All of the sources I have seen abbreviate the melody

and text, jumping after “Et homo factus est” to “Amen.” The manuscripts

seem localized to German-speaking and Eastern European lands. The

manuscripts seem localized to German-speaking and Eastern European

lands. It is difficult to make sense of the mensuration; as is seen in my

transcription, there are odd tempi of 5/8 and 7/8 amid an otherwise

square-rhythm piece. There are also drastic melodic differences among

the manuscript sources I examined. Melodically it comprises different a

few distinct phrases, one using a D-C final cadence and one outlining an

F-A-C triad with a D final.

Those are the most important Credo melodies of the 14th and 15th centuries. Obviously,

the “canonical” credos stand above the rest in their importance and distribution,

appearing in many of the extant manuscripts available.

Many of the remaining 14th and 15th century Credo melodies recorded in

Miazga’s catalog exist in smaller numbers or are unica. Unica canto fratto credos are very

common: Miazga records hundreds of unica across the centuries in his catalog, and

several dozen of these are from the 14th and 15th centuries. The manuscript Pisa 219, for

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example, is a 15th-century manuscript containing 34 Credo settings, of which 19 are

unica. St. Gall 546, mentioned above as a Credo collection from the 16th century, contains

18 Credos, of which 4 are unica.

It is difficult to generalize about the musical features of the unica Credos. Some

seem like the are possibly derived from similar melodies, a feature Miazga’s catalog

makes evident because the Credos are arranged by starting pitches. Some of them are

melodically and rhythmically complex and miniature works. Others are simple in their

design and seem like merely a musical tool to enunciate the long text of the Credo.

3.3 Conclusion

This chapter has established the variety of Credo melodies, from the earliest

known Gregorian settings to the vast repertory of monophonic Credo settings of the 13th

through 15th centuries. The history of the plainchant Credo melody is tied up with

prevailing political, theological, and social factors, especially as seen in the coincidence

of Charlemagne’s desire to supplant Greek authority and the possible emulation of a

Greek melody. The monophonic Credos of the canto fratto style were also related to the

prevailing social atmosphere; in their cases, however, the most important factors were

the streams of medieval religious life. In the next three chapters, I sketch the prevailing

aspects of medieval religious life in terms of catechism, devotion, and liturgy, and detail

how the Credo was an important factor in each of those categories.

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4. The Credo and Catechism

This chapter is about the Credo and its relationship to catechesis, a term broadly

meaning instruction in Christian doctrine. The definition and emphasis of catechesis

changed throughout the early history of Christianity; here I explore how the Creed

participated in that changing definition. The Creed was intertwined with the goals and

methods of catechesis, and ultimately new catechetical goals, largely deriving from

philosophical categories and methods which were shaped during the high and late

middle ages (ca. 1100–1500), changed how and why the Creed was taught.

As early as the 4th century in the East, and certainly by the 7th century in the

West, the Creed was highlighted as the goal of catechesis, but the purpose of catechesis

changed from a narratival to a philosophical instruction. By the late 2nd century

catechesis bound together moral instruction and scriptural understanding, an emphasis

that remained more or less intact into the second millennium. The “renaissance” of

theology in the 12th century imposed a more abstract and philosophical understanding

on catechesis, emphasizing intellectual ownership of faith as well as submission to the

beliefs of the church; this in turn led to a renewed emphasis from Catholic church

authorities in the 13th century on the duties of parish priests to teach the basics of the

faith—primarily through the Creed—to Catholic laypeople. This project was remarkably

successful, and by the 14th century the Creed was used in literature as a metaphor for

knowledge and true belief.

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This history sets the stage for the monophonic Credo “explosion” of the 14th

century. Putting the sudden growth in the number of monophonic Credos against this

historical-theological backdrop helps to show how such a phenomenon emerged from a

robust theological and catechetical seedbed; indeed, monophonic Credos serve as one

more marker of the success of the catechetical project embarked upon in the wake of the

13th century church reforms.

4.1 The Teaching of the Creed up to the Twelfth Century

In this section I trace the broad shape of the history of catechism from its pre–

Constantinian origins in adult baptism to a formalized duty mainly given to priests at

the beginning of the second millennium. The overall movement is from an instruction in

the rudiments of faith and doctrine to a teaching of morality in the 2nd century to an

instruction in basic scriptural exegesis by the 3rd and 4th centuries. Decrees and

pronouncements from the 7th and 8th centuries mandate the memorization of and

teaching of the Creed as the primary means of catechesis, though this catechesis

remained largely narratival in its shape, as opposed to the abstract philosophical

catechesis that would dominate the second millennium. Nevertheless, the early history

of catechesis shows the Creed as being tied together with Christian teaching from the

earliest centuries of Christianity.

Catechism is the teaching and learning of the Christian faith, and it is different

from other words related to religious instruction. It derives from the Greek verb

κατηχεῖν—“to sound (ēchein) out (kata),” and later “to orally instruct”—which already

appears in eight verses of the New Testament, usually translated as “instruct,” teach,” or

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“inform,” thus demonstrating early Christian concern to ensure sound doctrine.1 The

earliest Christian texts of catechesis were essentially moral instruction. Both the Didache

(1st century) and Epistle of Barnabas (late 1st/early 2nd century) instruct adults in Jewish

scriptural morality, focused on the “two ways” and cultivating virtues like prudence

and knowledge.2 In this sense, catechesis was distinct from preaching of the kingdom of

God (called kerygma, used 69 times in the New Testament, mostly as a verb) and

doctrinal instruction for those already baptized (didaskalia, used 21 times in the New

Testament).3

By the late second century, however, the lines between these categories of

catechesis, kerygma, and didaskalia blurred. Many writers from that time period—

particularly Justin Martyr (d. ca. 165), Athenagoras (d. ca. 190), and Theophilus of

Antioch (d. ca. 185)—articulated a vision of the kingdom of God and his salvation

through Jesus (what was previously kerygma) along with series of moral instructions

(katechesis). Formal catechetical schools developed in early Christian centers like

Antioch, Alexandria, and Rome, and the writings preserved from those schools offer a

1 Lk 1:4; Acts 18:25, 21:21, 21:24; Rom 2:18; 1 Cor 14:19; and Gal 6:6 2 The two ways, derived from Deut 6:5, are featured from the first sentence of the Didache; cf. M.E. Jegen, “Catechesis, II (Medieval and Modern),” New Catholic Encyclopedia, (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), vol. 3, 208. 3 Of the 69 times kerygma (noun)/kerysso (verb) is used in the NT, 32 of those come in the synoptic gospels and Acts (none from John). Of the 21 times didaskalia is used in the NT, 15 of those occur in the “Pastoral Epistles” of 1Ti, 2Ti, and Titus, letters which some scholars believe are 2nd-century additions to the New Testament canon. Thus, even in the text and chronology of the New Testament there is an evident concern moving from “preaching” into “(moral) teaching,” lines that blur in the 3rd and 4th centuries. On the dating of the Pastoral Epistles, see Kenneth Berding, “Polycarp of Smyrna’s View of the Authorship of 1 and 2 Timothy,” Vigiliae Christianae 53 (1999):349–360, which argues for the earliest extrabiblical attestation of those letters being in the 120s, and Benjamin L. White, “How to Read a Book: Irenaeus and the Pastoral Epistles Reconsidered,” Vigiliae Christianae 65 (2011):125–149, which looks in depth at the prominent usage of the Pastorals in the 180s by Irenaeus.

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mix of moral instruction and doctrinal instruction.4 The legalization of Christianity

under Constantine in the fourth century led to an even more formal set of instructions,

as shown in the “Catechetical Lectures” (delivered between 348–350) of Cyril of

Jerusalem, “De Sacramentis” and “De Mysteriis” of Ambrose (late fourth century), and

Catecheses of Theodore of Mopsuestia (late fourth/early fifth century); as I mentioned in

chapter two, these catechetical pre-baptismal lectures taught the statements of the Creed.

Yet the practice of ceremonial catechesis to adults fell away as infant baptism gradually

supplanted adult baptism throughout the Christian East and West. As Mary Evelyn

Jegen writes, “[f]or the first 5 centuries of Christianity, catechesis was primarily a pre-

baptismal instruction given to adults. From the 6th century on, the catechumenate began

to decline, and baptism of adults became the exception rather than the rule.”5 Yet for the

majority of the centuries that adult baptism and catechesis was the norm, it centered

around instruction in the Creed.

Even from the seventh century onward, knowledge of the Creed was

emphasized as the object of catechism. Beginning in the seventh century, writers,

especially in the Latin West, took the Creed as a summary of doctrine, necessary for all

Christians to know and understand. Eligius (d. 658), a bishop of Merovingian France,

writes the following instruction:

Eleemosynam juxta vires facite, pacem et charitatem habete, discordes ad

Men: do alms nearby, have peace and charity, call back discord to concord, flee

4 F.X. Murphy, “Catechetical School,” New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 3, 219. A vivid description of one such catechetical school is found in Eusebius’ description of Origen’s school in Alexandria in Church History book 6. 5 Jegen, 209

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concordiam revocate, mendacium fugite, perjurium expavescite, falsum testimonium non dicite, furtum non facite, oblationes et decimas ecclesiis offerte, luminaria sanctis locis juxta quod habetis exhibete; Symbolum et orationem Dominicam memoria retinete, et filiis vestris insinuate; filios etiam quos ex baptismo suscepistis docete et castigate, ut semper cum timore Dei vivant, scitote vos fidejussores pro ipsis apud Deum esse.6

lying, be frightened at perjury, do not utter false testimony, do not commit theft, offer oblations and tithes to the churches, offer the lights in the holy places according to what you have. Know by memory the Symbol and the Lord’s Prayer, and teach them to your children. Instruct and admonish the children, whom you have received as newborn from the baptismal font, to live ever in the fear of God. Know that you have taken an oath on their behalf before God.

Memorization of the Creed became a convenient shorthand for the minimum of

knowledge for Christianity, and as demonstrated in this excerpt from Eligius the line

was thin between moral obligation and doctrinal knowledge.

In a similar way, several church councils from the same period passed canonical

legislation mandating the teaching and learning of the Creed. Charlemagne’s Council of

Frankfurt (794) maintains such in its 33rd canon:

Ut fides catholica sanctae trinitatis et oratio dominica atque symbolum fidei omnibus praedicetur et tradatur.7

That the Catholic faith of the holy trinity and the Lord’s Prayer and Symbol of Faith be preached and handed over to everyone.

The earlier Anglo-Saxon Second Council of Clovesho (747) has a similar decree in its

tenth canon:

6 PL 87, 527c. Translation adapted from Jegen, 209. 7 MGH Capit 1, 77. My translation.

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Decimo docuerunt decreto, ut presbyteri omne sui gradus officium legitimo ritu per omnia discant exhibere nosse: deinde ut symbolum fidei ac dominicam orationem, sed et sacrosancta quoque verba quae in missae celebratione et officio baptismi solemniter dicuntur, interpretari atque exponere posse propria lingua qui nesciant, discant.8

In the tenth decree they have taught that priests should by all means learn to show familiarity with every office of their rank in the legitimate rite. Then [they have taught] that they should learn to be able to interpret and expound, in each one’s language to those who do not know, the Symbol of Faith and the Lord’s Prayer, but also the likewise sacred words which are solemnly said in the celebration of the mass and in the office of baptism.

Yet for all of the ecclesial and imperial legislation mandating memorization of

and teaching on the Creed, it is not clear how successful that project was. In the

preceding chapter I explored how the Gregorian melody of Credo I may have borne

cultural markers of Western Christian imperialism by using Greek themes. Popular

knowledge of the Creed was probably at a minimum for centuries; hence we see

Charlemagne’s persistent attempts to encourage knowledge of the Creed among the

clergy of the Frank-Roman empire. As shown by the passages above, several canonical

and legal decrees from the period point to the requirement for clergy to know and teach

the Creed and Our Father in Latin. It is probable that the earliest Gregorian melodies of

the Creed, which bear musical resemblance to Greek melodies for the Creed, had

multiple purposes in the Carolingian court and its sphere of influence. As stated

previously, on the one hand, the imported Greek melody served as a marker of cultural

8 Mansi 12:398. My translation.

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superiority and imposition. Yet the lofty, and perhaps ultimate, goal of popular

knowledge of the text of the Creed was probably not achieved.

4.2 The Twelfth Century

4.2.1 The Twelfth-century “Renaissance”

A renaissance of theology and canon law in the 12th century led to a renewed

insistence by Church authorities on full integration by the faithful into the moral and

doctrinal life of the Church; this section explores the emergence of abstract theology as

an academic discipline and the emphasis that discipline had on the concept of faith.

Such a new emphasis on faith and submission to the church’s teaching is important for

the history of the Creed because in the 13th century church authorities embarked on a

project to teach and instill the faith better, particularly by means of the Creed; the

articulation of 12th-century thinkers of the meaning and substance of faith ultimately led

to the movements of the 13th century to ensure lay participation in that faith.

Rik van Nieuwenhove describes the substantial changes to the Church and

society in the 11th and 12th centuries, listing several significant changes which “would

culminate in a radically transformed society in the twelfth century.”9 Van Nieuwenhove

points out that incursions from raiders led to clusters of population around local

strongholds, and subsequently the birth of the feudal system around barons who could

offer protection. Concentrated resources and manpower led to more efficient

9 Rik van Nieuwenhove, An Introduction to Medieval Theology (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 77.

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agricultural systems by means of technological innovations. Politically, the 11th century

saw the centralization of power into the three feudalized states of Germany, France, and

England; this political centralization crystallized especially with the birth of the Holy

Roman Empire in the German lands under Otto the Great, the rise of the Capetians in

France, and the Norman invasion of England. Regarding the church, there were several

important ecclesial reforms and a growing movement toward centralization in the 11th

century. The Abbey of Cluny, founded around 910, had grown to 2,000 affiliated houses

by 1100, and the Cluniac system of central “mother” house and dependent, distant

houses provided a model of centralized authority for the reforms of the papacy and

curia under Gregory VII (1050–1080).10

These cultural and political changes paved the way for the intellectual and

cultural developments of the 12th century. Four specific areas saw significant growth in

the 12th century—theological understanding and the growth of cathedral schools, canon

law, chivalric literature, and architecture. The formalization of theological study and

education is the most significant of these developments in regard to the promulgation of

the Creed. Marcia Colish has pointed to the emergence of “theology as a professional

discipline, for non-monastic students,” complete with the formation of textbooks

covering the basic curriculum and training how to think theologically.11 Other scholars

10 Cf. Aristeides Papadakis, The Christian East and the Rise of the Papacy (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1994), 30–32. 11 Marcia L. Colish, “From the Sentence Collection to the Sentence Commentary and the Summa: Parisian Scholastic Theology, 1130–1215,” in Manuels, programmes de cours et techniques d'enseignement dans les universités médiévales. Actes du Colloque international de Louvain-la-Neuve (9-11 septembre 1993), ed. Jacqueline Hamesse (Louvain-la-Neuve: Institut d’Études Médiévales de l’Université Catholique de Louvain, 1994), 9–

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highlight the roots of the development and formation of professional and academic

theology in the 12th century; G.R. Evans points out that theology as an academic

discipline grew out of the separate disciplines of scripture and speculative theology,

despite having “no precedent for regarding [them] as a unified body.”12 This renaissance

(or perhaps more accurately, naissance) of abstract, philosophical theology as a discipline

in the 12th century led to a renewed insistence by church authorities on full integration of

laity and clergy into the moral and doctrinal life of the church. Particularly relevant to

the Creed is that the articulation of 12th-century thinkers on the meaning and substance

of faith led to movements of the 13th century to ensure lay participation in that faith.

4.2.2 Faith and reason in the 12th century

Several of the most important theological writers of the 12th century—Peter

Abelard, Anselm of Canterbury, Hugh of St Victor, and Richard of St Victor—

emphasized an intellectual ownership of faith in addition to an obedient submission to

the beliefs of the church. Abelard was a highly controversial figure in his time, falling

under the condemnation of the more conservative Bernard of Clairvaux and William of

Saint-Thierry because of a rationalist approach which putatively harmed the traditional

understanding of the trinity.13 Yet Abelard’s dialectic, philosophical approach to

29, at 9. 12 G.R. Evans, Old Arts and New Theology: The Beginnings of Theology as an Academic Discipline (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 29–30. 13 Smith, S. R. "Peter Abelard." New Catholic Encyclopedia, Gale, 2003 [published 1967–74]. Gale In Context: Biography. Accessed 4 Jan. 2021.

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theology (standing in contrast to the patristic-based theology of Bernard and his

forebears) offered a pronounced emphasis on learning the Creed:

Habemus tam Symbolum fidei, quod dicitur apostolorum, quam Orationem Dominicam ab omnibus communiter Christianis deber sciri, et memoriter retineri, ut promptius queant frequenteri.14

We have such in the symbol of faith [i.e., the Creed], as it called “of the apostles,” that Christian communities in every place ought to know as the Lord’s Prayer, and to retain it memory, and to be prompted thereof frequently.

Abelard’s emphasis on learning and knowing the Creed might seem out of place

for such a “modernist” theologian, but Abelard and his contemporaries were insistent

on the duties of Christians to know what they claimed to believe. Andrew Reeves

summarizes the posture of the nascent scholastic movement:

Although medieval notions of faith had a strong element of humble obedience, theologians and canonists also acknowledged that it had an intellectual, cognitive component. After all, if one was to humbly trust in God, one needed a basic understanding of the object of that trust. … The Church as an institution thus needed to give the layperson the basic foundation in which he or she should know about the Triune God and the Church.15

This basic foundation, i.e., the creed, further edified a philosophical approach to the

Christian faith. Perhaps fundamental to this new “theology” was the proposition of faith

and reason. Obviously, the tension between “faith and reason” is in some way as old as

Christianity; Augustine articulates this tension in several passages, and states that even

those who doubt “understand something true.”16 Augustine’s concerns carry through

most of medieval theology. A sort of triad developed amongst 12th-century theologians

14 Abelard, Expositio Symboli quod dicitur apostolorum, PL 178, 617D. My translation. 15 Andrew Reeves, “Education and Religious Instruction,” in The Routledge History of Medieval Christianity 1050–1500, ed. R.N. Swanson (New York: Routledge, 2015), 129–142, at 104. 16 Van Nieuwenhouve, 11.

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of obedience or submission, which led to faith, which led to good works. Obedience to

church teachings was shown in seriously studying the faith as handed down in the

Creeds.

Anselm of Canterbury (1033–1109), perhaps most famous for his “proofs” of

God, even accepts faith as a presupposition for theology: “Reason does not prove faith,

nor does it provide its foundation, but reason assists us in disclosing, to some degree,

the beauty and coherence of faith.”17 Anselm is, in a way, a bridge between the monastic

spirituality and theology of the first millennium and the rationalistic theology of the

second; his emphasis on faith as a precursor to rational argument serves to explain the

emphasis on faith and submission to belief by writers later in the 11th and 12th centuries.

Hugh of St. Victor (d. 1141) similarly offers a strong statement and definition of

faith—its causes and results. “Faith is a kind of certainty of the mind in things absent,

established beyond opinion and short of knowledge (supra opinionem et infra scientiam).”18

For Hugh, faith thus involves certainty rather than opinion, but it is beyond intellectual

certainty. Hugh thus comes to terms with “the simple-minded in the Holy Church”—

those who are not theologically educated, establishing a distinction between their

affective belief (“faith by which there is belief,” fides qua creditur) and cognitive belief

(“that which is believed by faith,” quod fide creditur). For Hugh, faith can evolve

throughout the ages (e.g., from the Old Testament to the Christian era), and is a

17 Ibid., 86. 18 De Sacr. I.10.2, quoted in van Nieuwenhove, An Introduction to Medieval Theology, 132.

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“sacrament … that refers to future contemplation. Faith is a foretaste of contemplation of

God, in which our ultimate bliss consists.”19

Likewise Richard of St Victor (d. 1173) emphasizes the tradition of faith and its

relation to understanding.20 Rik van Nieuwenhove, commenting on Richard’s The

Mystical Ark, writes that he “requires from his readers an almost aesthetic receptivity

towards the world, in order to be able to see the world as a pointer to the mystery that

grounds it.”21 A sort-of faith in the contingency in the world leads, through reason, to a

proper understanding of God as Trinity in Richard’s view.

The twelfth century saw a renewed emphasis on sacramental, credal, and moral

concerns. Hugh of St. Victor sums up the triad of faith, sacraments, and good works:

Tria sane sunt quae ab initio sive ante adventum Christi, sive post ad salutem obtinendam necessaria fuerunt, id est fides, sacramenta fidei, et opera bona. Quae tria ita cohaerent ut salutis effectum habere non possint si simul non fuerint. Fides enim sine operibus, teste Scriptura, mortua est (Jacob. II). Rursum ubi non est fides, opus bonum esse non potest. Item qui fidem operantem habent, si sacramenta Dei suscipere renuunt, salvari non possunt, quia dilectionem Dei non habent cujus praecepta in sacramentis ejus contemnunt.22

Certainly, there are three things which are necessary to be obtained which from the beginning or before the coming of Christ, or after salvation—those three are faith, the sacrament of faith [i.e., sacraments received in faith], and good words. These three thus are joined together so that they are not able to have the effect of salvation if they are not simultaneous. Faith without works, testifies the scriptures, is dead (James 2). On the other hand, where there is not faith, good works are not possible. Likewise, whoever has the working of faith, if he refuses to undertake the sacrament of God, is not

19 van Nieuwenhove, 133. 20 “To understand these truths of which it has been rightly said “If you do not believe you will not understand,” you must enter by faith. But we must not immediately halt here; rather we should constantly reach out towards a more intimate and profound understanding, and with a complete studiousness and highest diligence penetrate deeper from day to day, through newly acquired insights into an understanding of our faith.” The Mystical Ark I.3, cited in van Nieuwenhove, 141. 21 Ibid. 22 De Sacramentis 1.9.7, PL 176:328a. My translation.

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able to be saved, because he does not have the delight of God whose precepts condemns in his sacraments.

Yet for both Hugh and Abelard, faith is an “act both of affection and cognition,”

requiring a cognitive dimension.23 This cognitive requirement led to debates about the

constancy of faith between the Old and New testaments, and how much faith the simple

lay Christian needs to be saved. Thus Lombard, slightly younger than Abelard, asked

how much, concretely, the layperson must know the articles of the Creed in order to be

saved and be a member of the Church.

The emphasis on moral behavior which characterized many of the writings of the

twelfth-century writers was in fact presupposed on a foundation of faith. As Pseudo-

Augustine wrote in the twelfth century, “there is nothing which might be good” apart

from the foundation of faith.24 We have, therefore, different layers of priorities for

twelfth-century theologians. On the one hand, Hugh’s triad of sacraments, belief, and

good works defined his major concerns; but good works depended on belief, and belief

depended on obedience.

4.2.3 Lateran IV: A Watershed for the Teaching of the Creed

There is a direct connection between the theological innovations of the twelfth

century and the impetus behind Lateran IV (1215). Lothario di Segni (1160–1216), who as

Pope Innocent III convened the council, studied as a young man in Paris under the

23Andrew Reeves, “Teaching the creed and the articles of faith in England: 1215–1281,” in A Companion to Pastoral Care in the Late Middle Ages (1200–1500), ed. Ronald J. Stansbury (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 41–72, at 44. 24 Ibid., 45.

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tutelage of Peter the Chanter, one of the last of the twelfth-century systematizing

theologians. A signature of Innocent’s papacy was a devotion to moral reform and a

fight against heretical groups. Andrew Reeves notes that Innocent’s battle against heresy

was founded in the understanding of faith which he learned in Paris. Reeves writes that

“Christians could not reject the truths of the triune nature of God, the transcendent and

immanent creator, but a humble obedience to the Church, Christ’s body on Earth, was

just as, if not more, important than right belief. Innocent’s work on moral reform was

part and parcel of a trend based around the schools of Paris that had been ongoing for

several decades.”25 The three motivating theological concerns going into Fourth Lateran

Council (1215) were faith, morality, and submission to the authority of the Church.

Reeves explains that the main impetus of Pope Innocent III in calling the council was to

combat heresy by correcting the understanding of the faith among laypeople. As an

illustrative story,

when it came to his attention that certain laymen were reading the Bible on their own in Metz, [Pope Innocent’s] approach was not to demand that these activities cease, but rather to counsel the local ecclesiastical authorities to make sure that the members of this Bible study were willing to submit to correction if necessary. … This humble submission required at least some knowledge of the Church’s dogma, if not a thorough understanding of the complexities of Trinitarian metaphysics.26

25 Andrew Reeves, “Teaching the Creed and Articles of Faith in England: Lateran IV to Ignorantia Sacerdotum” (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Toronto, 2009), 41. 26 Andrew Reeves, “Teaching the creed and the articles of faith in England: 1215–1281,” 46.

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The Fourth Lateran Council was convened with the additional purposes of renewing the

Crusades (leading to the unsuccessful Fifth Crusade) and denouncing and counteracting

the heresies of groups like the Cathars and Waldensians. Charles Duggan avers that this

council represents a turning point in the history of papal legislation, as its scope

encompasses all classes of Christian society. 27

In addition to the primary tasks of opposing heresy and proclaiming a new

Crusade in the Holy Land, Lateran IV established and upheld norms for pastoral

practices. Leonard Boyle avers that the canonical decrees of Lateran IV changed the

nature of the parish priesthood, giving parish priests direct responsibility for

parishioners.28 Essentially, the genre of pastoralia—literature on the subject of pastoral

care—grew out of the decrees of Lateran IV. The most relevant canon for parish priests

was canon 21, “Omnis utriusque.” This canon mandated faithful Catholic parishioners

to attend confession once per year:

Omnis utriusque sexus fidelis, postquam ad annos discretionis pervenerit, omnia sua solus peccata confiteatur fideliter, saltem semel in anno, proprio sacerdoti, et injunctam sibi poenitentiam studeat pro viribus adimplere, suscipiens reverenter ad minus in Pascha eucharistiae sacramentum: nisi forte de consilio proprii sacerdotis, ob aliquam rationabilem causam ad tempus ab ejus perceptione duxerit abstinendum: alioquin et vivens ab ingressu ecclesiae arceatur, et moriens Christiana careat

All the faithful of both sexes shall after they have reached the age of discretion faithfully confess all their sins at least once a year to their own (parish) priest and perform to the best of their ability the penance imposed, receiving reverently at least at Easter the sacrament of the Eucharist, unless perchance at the advice of their own priest they may for a good reason abstain for a time from its reception; otherwise they shall be cut off from the Church (excommunicated) during life and deprived of Christian

27 “Lateran Councils” in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 409. 28 Leonard E. Boyle, “The Fourth Lateran Council and Manuals of Popular Theology,” Tennessee Studies in Literature 28 (1985):30–43, at 31.

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sepultura. Unde hoc salutare statutum frequenter in ecclesiis publicetur, ne quisquam ignorantiae caecitate velamen excusationis assumat. Si quis autem alieno sacerdoti voluerit justa de causa sua confiteri peccata, licentiam prius postulet et obtineat a proprio sacerdote, cum aliter ille ipse non possit solvere, vel ligare.

Sacerdos autem sit discretus et cantus, ut more periti medici superinsundant vinum et oleum vulneribus fauciati; diligenter inquirens et peccatoris circumstantias et peccati, per quas prudenter intelligat, quale illi consilium debeat exhibere, et cujusmodi remedium adhibere, diversis experimentis utendo ad sanandum aegrotum. Caveat autem omnino, ne verbo, vel signo, vel alio quovis modo prodat aliquatenus peccatorem; sed si prudentiori consilio indiguerit, illud abique ulla expressione personae caute requirat: quoniam qui peccatum in poenitentiali judicio sibi detectum praesumpserit revelare, non solum a sacerdotali officio deponendum decernimus, verum etiam ad agendam perpetuam poenitentiam, in arctum monasterium detrudendum.29

burial in death. Wherefore, let this salutary decree be published frequently in the churches, that no one may find in the plea of ignorance a shadow of excuse. But if anyone for a good reason should wish to confess his sins to another priest, let him first seek and obtain permission from his own (parish) priest, since otherwise he (the other priest) cannot loose or bind him. Let the priest be discreet and cautious that he may pour wine and oil into the wounds of the one injured after the manner of a skillful physician, carefully inquiring into the circumstances of the sinner and the sin, from the nature of which he may understand what kind of advice to give and what remedy to apply, making use of different experiments to heal the sick one. But let him exercise the greatest precaution that he does not in any degree by word, sign, or any other manner make known the sinner, but should he need more prudent counsel, let him seek it cautiously without any mention of the person. He who dares to reveal a sin confided to him in the tribunal of penance, we decree that he be not only deposed from the sacerdotal office but also relegated to a monastery of strict observance to do penance for the remainder of his life.30

29 Mansi 22:1007–1010. 30 Translation from H.J. Schroeder, Disciplinary Decrees of the General Councils: Text, Translation, and Commentary (St. Louis: B. Herder, 1937), 236–396; access from Fordham University Medieval Sourcebook: Twelfth Ecumenical Council: Lateran IV, 1215 <https://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/basis/lateran4.asp>.

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In commenting on the significance of Omnis Utriusque, Leonard Boyle writes that the

application of “medicine” to the souls of sinners was not new; rather, the novelty was

that, for the first time, the role of confessor was set as a church office, outside of a

monastic context. Boyle concludes, “Now, officially, the confessor must not only be a

dispenser of penances but also a counsellor of souls. He had to know something more

than the old canones poenitnetiales and their lists of appropriate penances. He had to

know the ins and outs of sins, vices, and virtues. In other words, he had to have a broad

education in order to be the competent confessor envisaged by the council.”31This canon

further deepened the connection between faith and morality; right actions needed a

foundation of right faith.

4.2.3 Teaching the Creed in England

The episcopal directives that followed in the wake of Lateran IV in England

reflect the importance for the Christian’s life of a right faith as well as of sound

morals.”32 England is particularly notable because of the specificity of 13th-century

episcopal directives: between 1215 and 1281 a number of directives in England placed

emphasis on knowing the Creed and the Articles of Faith. One of the earliest is the 1222

Oxford conciliar canon, stating that the parish congregation are to “receive the

nourishment of God’s word.”33 Reeves notes several important canons and decrees in

England between 1222 and 1281 which highlight the teaching of the Creed and its

31 Boyle, “The Fourth Lateran Council,” 32 32 Reeves, “Teaching the Creed and Articles of Faith in England: Lateran IV to Ignorantia Sacredotum,” 12. 33 Ibid., 57–58.

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separation into Articles of Faith. Ignorantia sacredotum, the landmark canon of the 1281

Lambeth Council, was very clear in its expectations for parish clergy to teach the Creed

and the Ten Commandments, as well as other “numerical” aspects of Catholic belief

(like the Seven Deadly Sins).

4.2.3.1 Oculus Sacerdotis

One of the most popular books of instruction for clergy in the wake of Lateran IV

and the later 13th-century decrees of the English church was the Oculus Sacerdotis of

William of Pagula, written around 1320.34 Divided into three sections, the Oculus

provided a framework for priests and confessors in parishes using memorable

numerical schemes and patterns. The first part of the Oculus is a confession manual

based on the seven deadly sins, with different examinations for different occupations,

states of life, and predilections of sin. The second part offers a program, modeled on the

pattern of the creed, of instruction in the faith for laypeople, followed by expositions of

the seven sacraments, seven works of mercy, seven virtues, Ten Commandments, and

the seven deadly sins.35 Leonard Boyle, explaining the significance of this section, writes

that “[The] simple purpose [of the exposition of the Creed] is to suggest matters of

theological or legal import which a parish priest would find useful when faced with the

quarterly problem of expanding Pecham’s Syllabus for the instruction of his

34 Leonard E. Boyle, “The Oculus Sacerdotis and some other works of William of Pagula,” Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 5 (1955):81–110, at 83. 35 Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England, c.1400–c.1580, 2nd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 55.

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parishioners.”36 The third part of the Oculus provides instruction for the priest on

administering sacraments to the laity.

This manual proved to be one of the most popular theological works of the 13th

century, inspiring several other priestly manuals such as the Instructions for Parish Priests

by John Mirk and Manipulus Curatorum, written in the 14th century and printed in 1498.

Eamon Duffy points to a number of vernacular manuals in 15th-century England which

were aimed at educating priests in the rudiments of church doctrine. William Caxton,

the first English printer, translated the Doctrinal of Sapyence from French in 1489, with

one edition oriented to priests and another (omitting the sections on accidents during

the mass) for laypeople; the Ordynarye of Cyrsten Men and the Floure of the Commandments

were both printed in the early 16th century, and an edition of Stella Clericorum followed

in 1531. These confessional guidelines were directed at priests who had to hear

confessions, possibly by the hundreds, mostly during the Lenten season. Indeed, during

Lent it was probably the pastor’s primary occupation to hear confessions, at least until

the practice of individual spiritual advisors and confessors became vogue for the

wealthy classes in the 15th century.

The art of hearing confession and counseling the penitent was “closely linked”

with the “preaching programme of the English Church in the fifteenth century.”37 Duffy

points out a number of expository manuals on the Lord’s Prayer, for example, as well as

literature “designed to instruct and edify the laity and to provide simple clergy with

36 Boyle, “The Oculus Sacredotis,” 90. 37 Duffy, 61.

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material for their preaching and teaching.”38 Much of this literature was written either at

the behest of bishops for their parochial clergy or produced by religious orders. Duffy

writes, “As all this suggests, the original modest aims of the thirteenth-century Church,

to equip the laity with basic prayers, the means of examining their consciences, and the

bare essentials of belief, had expanded by the fifteenth century.” This 15th-century

expansion included devotion to and meditation on the Passion, a fixation on the

sufferings of Jesus, the desire for a more structured prayer life—all devotional aspects of

religious life which emerged from the success of the catechetical project connected to the

Creed.39 Eventually an entire industry of religious literature developed around the

teaching of the Creed, and this devotional aspect will be considered in the next chapter.

4.2.4 Teaching the Creed in France

This emphasis on teaching the Creed was certainly not limited to England. For

example, a 1205 statute from Paris recommends that, on Sundays, “in some part of the

sermon, let [the priest] faithfully present to the people the symbol of faith. And let them

diligently distinguish the Articles of Faith and confirm the people in each of them.”40

Jean Longère points to another canon from the same Statuts which dictates “the priests

will incessantly urge the people to recite the Lord’s Prayer, the ‘I believe in God,’ and

the salutation of the Blessed Virgin.”41 Longère points to several other important

38 Duffy, 62. 39 Duffy, 62. 40 Reeves, “Teaching the Creed and Articles of Faith in England: Lateran IV to Ignorantia Sacerdotum,” 73, quoting Les statuts synodaux 1:84; Longère 316 41 Jean Longère, “Enseignement du Credo: Conciles, Synodes et Canonistes médiévaux jusqu’au XIIIe siècle,” Sacris erudiri 32 (1991):309–341, at 316. Citing Canon 62 of the statutes of Eudes de Sully, bishop of

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conciliar statutes which direct the teaching of the Creed, such as the directions of

Guillaume de Beaumont, bishop of Angers, statutes from Cambrai, the council of

Bordeaux (1233), Sisteron (1225–1235 and 1249), and the work of several canon lawyers.

4.2.5 Teaching the Creed in Italy

The teaching of the Creed in Italy was not enforced with the same insistence

from regional councils, synods, and bishops, but it did develop as a preaching device,

especially among the Mendicant orders. In his overview of the Mendicant orders, C.H.

Lawrence observes that the Mendicants represented the fault lines of a confrontation

between older, traditional assumptions about Christian life and newer, urban, secular

culture dominated by commerce.42 Within the rapidly changing cultural world of the 12th

and 13th centuries, the Mendicant orders attempted to demonstrate and live a radical

vision of the Christian gospel. This radical vision, however, remained rooted in the

fundamentals of traditional Catholic belief. For Francis of Assisi and his followers, the

Creed was necessary knowledge.

Francis petitioned Pope Innocent III to bless his rule of life in 1209 or 1210; the

“Earlier Rule,” or “Regula non bullata,” derives from that initial propositium to the pope.

The section on the actual rule for the office is probably a later (1220/21) addition. In it,

Francis sets forth the requirements for the brothers in keeping a rule of prayer:

The Lord says: This kind of devil cannot come out except through fasting and prayer; and again: When you fast do not become

Paris (1197–1208). 42 C.H. Lawrence, The Friars: The Impact of the Early Mendicant Movement on Western Society (New York: I.B. Tauris, 2013 [1994]), 1.

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gloomy like the hypocrites. For this reason let all the brothers, whether clerical or lay, recite the Divine Office, the praises and prayers, as is required of them. Let the clerical brothers recite the Office and say it for the living and the dead according to the custom of clerics. Every day let them say the Have mercy on me, O God with the Our Father for the failings and negligence of the brothers; and let them say the Out of the depths with the Our Father for the deceased brothers. They may have only the books necessary to fulfill their office. The lay brothers who know how to read the psalter may have one. Those who do not know how to read, however, may not be permitted to have any book. Let the lay brothers say the Creed and twenty-four Our Fathers with the Glory to the Father for Matins; for Lauds, let them say five; for Prime, the Creed and seven Our Fathers with the Glory to the Father; for each of the hours, Terce, Sext and None, seven; for Vespers, twelve; for Compline, the Creed and seven Our Fathers with the Glory to the Father; for the deceased, seven Our Fathers with the Eternal Rest; and for the failings and negligence of the brothers three Our Fathers each day… .43

The idea of substituting repetitions of prayers for aspects of the office is not unique to

Francis. The rosary, for example, developed between the 12th and 15th centuries as

“poor man’s breviary” substitute, composed of 150 short prayers in three groups of fifty,

an organization similar to that of the 150 psalms.44 Francis’s rule circumvents the normal

requirements for literacy and, like the rosary, allows a set number of prayers to

substitute for the typical office.

43 “The Earlier Rule,” in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. William J. Short and Wayne J. Hellmann (New York; New City, 1999), Volume I, 65-66. 44 See Anne Winston-Allen, Stories of the Rose: The Making of the Rosary in the Middle Ages (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1997).

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The rising importance of the Creed in Italy can be observed in the sermons

dedicated to its explication by mendicant preachers. One of the most famous sermon

cycles on the Creed was preached by the Dominican Giordano da Pisa in Florence

during Lent of 1305.45 Giordano’s preaching follows that of Thomas Aquinas, who also

preached a series of Lenten sermons on the Creed in 1273. Like Aquinas, Giordano

divides the Apostles’ Creed into fourteen articles—seven articles on “the Godhead” and

seven articles on the humanity of Christ, though Giordano does not proceed in as

systematic a fashion as Aquinas. Giordano’s preaching is typical of medieval preaching

on the Credo. He does discuss its being sung in liturgical services but does not enforce

any sort of memorization scheme. Instead, over the course of forty sermons, he proceeds

from speaking about the Creed generally to specifically handling each article and its

implications for believers.

Carlo Delcorno, a historian of medieval Italian preaching, writes, “In reality, all

medieval preaching, and in particular the ‘new word’ of the Mendicants, is committed to

educating the faithful, introduced to the deeper and more secure knowledge of the

fundamental prayers (the Credo and Our Father) and of the commandments.”46

Delcorno notes several examples of Mendicant preaching on the Creed—most famously,

the sermons of Thomas Aquinas, a Dominican, along with those of Hugo da Prato (d.

45 See Aléssio Alonso Alves, “Sermons, Preaching, and Liturgy: Practices, Research Methods, and the Case of Giordano da Pisa,” Medieval Sermon Studies 62 (2018):3–16, at 9–12. 46 “In realtà tutta la predicazione medievale, e in modo particolare la ‘parola nuova’ dei Mendicanti, è impegnata nell'istruzione dei fedeli, introdotti alla conoscenza più sicura e profonda delle preghiere fondamentali (Il Credo e il Padrenostro) e dei Comandamenti.” Carlo Delcorno, “La fede spiegata ai fiorentini. Le prediche sul ‘Credo’ di Giordano da Pisa,” Lettere Italiane 65 (2013): 318–352, at 319.

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1322; sermons of uncertain date) and Aldobrandino da Toscanella (1280).47 These

preachers—all members of Mendicant orders—focused on the creed article by article,

explaining each subsequent topic of faith. Giordano da Pisa did not proceed article by

article, but perhaps reflecting his education in the universities in Paris and Bologna, he

kept an academic focus on the meaning of faith signified by the first statement of the

creed (“I believe…”), shifting to the crucifixion as the focus for Holy Week.

Thus we see that in Italy, even without the benefit of the canonical and statutory

tradition enforcing knowledge of the Creed, the Creed became a focus of education and

catechesis because of the Mendicant preaching tradition. Like the canonical tradition, the

preaching of the Mendicant friars was heavily influenced by university discourse and

education, especially among the educated Order of Preachers. Franciscan education and

preaching also flourished, especially from such luminaries as Roger Bacon and Anthony

of Padua. Bernt Roest observes that, in addition to sermon collections from these famous

Franciscan preachers, Franciscans in training would have had access to specialized

literature on the Bible, collections of saints’ lives, and basic instructive literature on the

Our Father, the Hail Mary, and the Creed.48

4.3 The success of the project of teaching the Creed

Duffy summarizes the impact of the catechetical project by stating that “the

ubiquity of the catechetical preoccupations of the late medieval Church in the

47 Ibid., 320. 48 Bert Roest, A History of Franciscan Education (c. 1210–1517) (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 288.

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imaginative world of the laity is testified to in a range of types of evidence.”49 He points

to a number of artistic depictions in churches—on walls, in stained glass, around

baptismal fonts, in plays, and in lay didactic and devotional collections. Duffy’s point is

that this type of lay religion—lacking the “introspection and interiority encouraged by

monastic and mystical” writers—flourished in its simplicity. “Somewhere near the heart

of their religion was a sober and conformist reality, encouraged no doubt by the clergy’s

concentration of their catechetical endeavours on the confessional, and the location of

instruction on the Creed within a more elaborate scheme which put as much or more

emphasis on the Commandments, the virtues, the sins.”50 The success of the catechetical

project initiated by 13th-century church authorities is readily evident in the artwork and

collections Duffy points to, but also particularly in literature of the 14th and 15th

centuries. By the time of Chaucer, knowing the Creed was a common trope of claiming

sure knowledge.

4.3.1 Chaucer and Dante

One of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, the “Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale,” tells the story of

a deceitful canon who claims he has the secret of alchemy and attempts to sell the recipe

to a gullible priest. The canon borrows money from the priest, and returns it in order to

persuade him of his honesty. When the priest receives back his initial loan to the

49 Duffy, 63. 50 Duffy, 75.

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huckster, he claims that it is no annoyance to lend money to an honest man, knowing he

will be repaid. The canon feigns surprise by the intimation of dishonesty:

“What!” quod this chanoun, “sholde I be untrewe? Nay, that were thyng yfallen al of newe. Trouthe is a thyng that I wol evere kepe Unto that day in which that I shal crepe Into my grave, and ellis God forbede. Bileveth this as siker as your Crede. God thanke I, and in good tyme be it sayd, That there was nevere man yet yvele apayd For gold ne silver that he to me lente, Ne nevere falshede in myn herte I mente.

“What!” said this canon, “should I be untrue? No, that would be a thing completely without precedent. My pledged word is a thing that I will always keep Until that day in which I shall creep Into my grave, and God forbid it be otherwise. Believe this as true as your Creed. I thank God, and rightly it may be said, That there was never man yet suffered evil For gold or silver that he lent to me, Nor did I ever intend falsehood in my heart.51

The Creed, in this instance, signifies the swindler’s surety—faith in his word is as good

as faith in the Creed.

Writing a generation before Chaucer, Dante uses a type of vernacular Creed to

proclaim a straightforward statement of belief in Paradiso 24, a scene in which the

pilgrim faces questioning from St Peter.

E quel baron che sì di ramo in ramo, Essaminando, già tratto m’avea, Che a l’ultime fronde appressavamo, Ricominciò: “La Grazia, che donnea Con la tua mente, la bocca t’aperse Infino a qui come aprir si dovea, Sì ch’io approvo ciò che fuori emerse ; Ma or convien espremer quell che credi, E onde a la credenza tua s’offerse.” « O santo padre, e spirito che vedi Ciò che credesti sì, che tu vincesti Ver’ lo sepulcro più giovani piedi, » Comincia’ io, « tu vuo’ ch’io manifesti La forma qui del pronto creder moi, E anche la cagion di lui chiedesti.

And that nobleman who now had led me thus From branch to branch in his examination So that we neared the highest boughs, Began again: “The grace that woos your mind Has until this moment opened your lips And made your mouth say what it should, so that I approve what has come forth from it. But now you must declare what you believe And through what means you came to such belief.” “O holy father, spirit who now can see That which you once believed with such conviction You outstripped younger feet to reach the sepulcher,’ I began, ‘you would have me here declare The substance of my ready faith, And also tell the source of it, the reason why I hold it dear.

51 Geoffrey Chaucer, “The Canon Yeoman’s Tale,” ll. 489–498.

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E io rispondo : Io credo in uno Dio Solo ed etterno, che tutto ‘l ciel move, Non moto, con amore e con disio; e a tal creder non ho io pur prove fisice e metafisice, ma dalmi anche la verità che quinci piove per Moïsè, per profeti e per salmi, per l'Evangelio e per voi che scriveste poi che l'ardente Spirto vi fé almi; e credo in tre persone etterne, e queste credo una essenza sì una e sì trina, che soffera congiunto 'sono' ed 'este.' De la profonda condizion divina ch'io tocco mo, la mente mi sigilla più volte l'evangelica dottrina. Quest' è 'l principio, quest' è la favilla che si dilata in fiamma poi vivace, e come stella in cielo in me scintilla." Come 'l segnor ch'ascolta quel che i piace, a indi abbraccia il servo, gratulando per la novella, tosto ch'el si tace; così, benedicendomi cantando, tre volte cinse me, sì com' io tacqui, l'appostolico lume al cui comando io avea detto: sì nel dir li piacqui!

‘and I reply: I believe in one God, One and eternal, who, Himself unmoved, moves All the heavens with his love and their desire. 'In defense of this belief I do have proof, not only physical and metaphysical, but offered also by the truth that pours like rain from here ‘through Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms, through what the Gospel says and what you wrote once the burning Spirit made you holy. 'I believe in three eternal Persons. I believe these are a single Essence, at once threefold and one so as to allow agreement both with "are" and "is." 'The profound truth of God's own state of which I speak is many times imprinted in my mind by the true instructions of the Gospel. 'This is the beginning, this the living spark that swells into a living flame and shines within me like a star in heaven.' As the master to whom a servant brings good news rejoices when he hears it, and puts his arms around the speaker just as soon as he has finished, thus, blessing me as he sang, the apostolic light, at whose command I spoke, encircled me three times once I was silent, because my words had brought him such delight.52

This statement comes at the conclusion of a long rhetorical disquisition in the university

style. Teodolinda Barolini describes Paradiso 24 as “written under the sign of intelletto,

devoted to handling the great irrational leap that is faith in eminently rational fashion.”53

Its markers of academic dialog are obvious, using the verb “silogizzar” (24.77) and the

noun “silogismo” (24.94); the overall effect is one of “differentiation.”

52 Paradiso XXIV, 115–154. Trans. from Paradiso: A Verse Translation, trans. Robert and Jean Hollander (New York: Anchor Books, 2008). 53 Teodolinda Barolini, The Undivine Comedy: Detheologizing Dante (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 229.

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This academic foreground makes Dante’s “Credo” stand out for its simplicity. St

Peter interrogates the poet for his faith, and the poet responds “in words unexcelled in

the whole of ‘Paradiso’ for beauty and sublimity,” with the ultimate affect that Dante’s

Creed pleases St Peter.54 The Creed of Paradiso 24, which is written in Italian, bears the

imprint of the creed of the church, evident in his tying the fundamentals of his belief

back to scripture, as well as his explication of the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. The use of

this formula shows the degree to which the Creed was inculcated as a summary of

doctrine for Catholic faithful from the 13th century onward.

4.3.2 Piers Plowman

Perhaps the greatest testimony to the catechetical impact of the Creed is William

Langland’s Piers Plowman (begun 1370s) and two other works written in response to it—

the anonymous “Chorister’s Lament” (uncertain date) and “Pierce the Ploughman’s

Crede,” (1390s). Piers Plowman as a poem seems to malign academic theology as well as

its mendicant teachers; commenting on a passage from Piers Plowman Passus XI of Piers

Plowman, David Aers notes that the poem presents, at once, a parody and imitation of

Latin academic theology, albeit in vernacular English.55 Langland, in Aers’ reading,

highlights the divorce of academic Latin theology from the actual scriptural narrative,

going so far as to legitimize a theology in which the narratives of the bible are

subordinated to Aristotelian terms and logic. In other words, Langland is making fun of

54 Henry A. Brann, “The ‘Credo’ of Dante,” America 4.22 (1911), 521–22, at 521. 55 Specifically commenting on the C-Text of Piers Plowman.

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the academic theology that grew as a discipline in the 12th century, which I explored

above. In Piers Plowman, theologians, especially represented by friars, “are lured to

invent theological truth as suprahistorical or nonhistorical, quite autonomous of the

stories on which the church depends and acknowledges in the liturgy.”56

Aers exposes the theological and academic debates surrounding Langland’s

narrative poem—an abandonment of the narrative and history of the scriptural stories in

favor of abstracted logical/philosophical debates of theologians dating to Lombard’s

Sentences. The Creed, for Langland, becomes a way of uncovering both the philosophical

background of the academic theologians—especially the moderni—and of restating the

narrative-historical demands of Christianity as known through the scriptural story.

One of Langland’s main enemies in Piers Plowman is the friars, especially

Franciscans, representative of corruption in the church. It is not, however, their learning

and education which is the object Langland’s contempt, but rather their visible misdeeds

of material gain.57 On the other hand, learning, and particularly catechetical learning, is

seen as good throughout the poem. Dorothy Jacobs refers to the appearance of Trajan in

Passus 11 to determine that “learning is judged valueless unless inspired by the love of

God,” representing an anti-academic strain consistently heard throughout the poem.58

To quote Passus 11:

56 Aers, Beyond Reformation?:An Essay on William Langland’s Piers Plowman and the End of Constantinian Christianity (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015), 17–18. 57 cf. Pearsall’s introduction to the C-text, in Piers Plowman: A New Annotated Edition of the C-Text, ed. Derek Pearsall (Exeter: University of Exeter Press 2008), 22. 22. 58 Dorothy Jacobs, “The Thematic Importance of Learning in ‘Piers Plowman,’” Aevum 57 (1983), 282–287, at

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Lawe with-outen loue quod troianus [·] leye þere a bene Or any science vnder sonne · þe seuene artz and alle But þei ben lerned for owre lordes loue · loste is alle þe tyme For no cause to cacche siluer þere-by · ne to be called a mayster But al for loue of owre lorde · and þe bet to loue þe peple For seynte Iohan seyde it · and soth aren his wordes Qui non diligit manet in morte.59

“Without love,” continued Trajan, “law isn’t worth a straw! Nor is any body of knowledge, if it comes to that—including all the seven liberal arts. All the time you spend on them is an utter waste, unless your motive for studying these things is love of God, not desire to earn money or academic titles. Their whole purpose is to enable us to love God, and to love other people better, as a result. It was St. John who said it (and his words are the truth): “The man who does not love remains dead.”60

In fact, Jews and Muslims already “know” the beginning of the Creed in one sense, and

only need to be taught the rest of the Creed by clergy:

Ac pharesewes and sarasenes · Scribes & Grekis Aren folke of on faith · þe fader god þei honouren And sitthen þat þe sarasenes · and also þe iewes Konne þe firste clause of owre bileue · credo in deum patrem omnipotentem Prelates of crystene prouynces · shulde preue if þei myȝte Lere hem litlum & lytlum [·] & in ihesum cristum filium Tyl þei couthe speke and spelle · et in spiritum sanctum And re[d]en it & recorden it · with remissionem peccatorum Carnis resurreccionem · et vitam eternam amen.61

Nevertheless, it remains true that all of them—Pharisees and Scribes, all the adherents of the Jewish faith, and of Islam, too, hold together in one single faith: they all of them worship God the Father. So both Moslem and Jew are familiar with the first sentence of the Christian creed: “I believe in God the Father Almighty.” Surely, then, the bishops of Christian lands should strain every nerve to teach them, stage by stage, the second?—“And in Jesus Christ, his only Son.” After that, they can go on to articulate the words—“And in the Holy Spirit”—and come out and affirm “the forgiveness of sins“—yes, and eventually tell it out to the end: “the

285. 59 B.11.171–176a 60 Trans. A.V.C Schmidt, Piers Plowman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 117. 61 B.15.605–613

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resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen!”62

Other specific references to the Creed within the poem highlight how important the

actual text was for believers.

“He shal haue my soule that alle soules made And defenden hit as fro the fende, and so is my beleue, Til Y come til his acountes as my crede telleth To haue a remissioun and a relees on that rental Y leue.63

He shall have my soul who made all souls And defend it from the Fiend, and so is my belief, Till I come to his account as my creed tells To have remission and release on the rent I still owe.64

Piers, dictating his will, states his belief in the coming judgment and resurrection

proclaimed in the Creed, and includes the bequest of his body and bones in his will.

Mixing legal and theological images, Piers expresses his trust in the credal formula he

has learned by forsaking his ownership on the “rental” of his life.

On a larger scale, the structure of Piers Plowman is modeled on the structure of

the Creed. As the poem reaches its climax, Langland traces the broad recapitulation of

all of Christian history in the life of the individual believer’s soul. The poem ends with a

narrative depiction of the Creed’s ending, with Christ’s death, descent to hell, and

resurrection, followed by the establishment of Christ’s Church on earth. The Creed

serves as the vehicle for Will’s ultimate solidarity with sinners and, thus, salvation.65

62 Trans. A.V.C. Schmidt. 63 C.8:96-99 64 Trans. George Economou, William Langland’s Piers Plowman: The C-Version: A Verse Translation (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1996). 65 A.V.C. Schmidt, “Introduction,” in Piers Plowman: A New Translation of the B-Text, xiii.

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The later satire “Pierce the Ploughman’s Crede” is a further acidic complaint

against the mendicant orders, as the narrator seeks someone to teach him the Creed.

A and all myn A-B-C after have I lerned, And patred in my Pater Noster iche poynt after other, And after all myn Ave Marie almost to the ende. But al my kare is to comen, for I can nohght my Crede.

I have learned my ABCs and can repeat my Pater Noster each point after the other, and after all my Ave Maria almost to the end. But all my care is to come, for I do not know my Creed.

Searching for a religious friar to teach him the Creed, the narrator finds only

Dominicans, Franciscans, Augustinians and Carmelites bickering about the faults of the

other groups. Finally, an emaciated, poor plowman teaches him the Creed. With an

accent similar to the Piers Plowman poem, “Pierce the Ploughman’s Crede” strikes a

negative stance toward the institutions of religion. The climax of the poem, the recitation

of the Creed, is performed in vernacular English by a simple, unlearned ploughman, a

“lewed” man as described in the poem; Helen Barr notes that he is not standing in a

church, but ankle-deep in a muddy field. Every aspect of his profession of faith stands in

contrast to the clerics of the orders who speak eloquently, wearing churchly garb.66 Barr

cites a passage from the poem’s end, in which “authentic faith” is wrested away from

the official churchmen and proclaimed by unlearned people:

‘…all that euer I haue seyd soth it me semeth And all that euer I haue written is soth, as I trowe, And for amending of thise men is most that I write.’ (836–8)

66 Helen Barr, Signes and Sothe: Language in the Piers Plowman Tradition (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 1994), 48–49.

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Barr concludes that “[a]lliterative poetry and the speech of a ploughman exceed the

discursive practices of the established church.” Indeed, the Creed in “Pierce the

Ploughman’s Crede” is at once the pinnacle of “learning” for the narrator—the object of

his desire and the proof that he has achieved the religious knowledge necessary of a

Christian—and a tool to separate true from false religion.

The anonymous “Chorister’s Lament” may have been composed in reaction to

Langland’s Piers Plowman, as Bruce Holsinger argues on the basis of potential allusions

to the B-text of Piers.67 Holsinger sees Piers Plowman as exploring the intersection of law

and liturgy, a relationship which “paradoxically corrodes the authoritative bond

between juridical ideology of liturgical obedience and the social practice of liturgical

performance.”68 Furthermore, he draws ties between the critique of singing in the

Lament and the Lollardy and anti-liturgical emphasis present in Piers Plowman. William,

one of the young choristers of the Lament, complains to his choir mate:

Thanne is Water so wo that wol ner wil he blede, And wendis him til William and bit him wel to spede. “God it wot,” seys William, “thereof had I nede. Now wot I qwuo Iudicare was set in the crede. Me is wo so is the be that belles in the walmes, I donke vpon dauid til me tonge talmes. I ne rendrede nowt sithen men beren palmes. Is it also mikel sorwe in song so is in salmes? (25–32)

Then is Walter so sad that he’s ready to burst a blood-vessel, and he goes to William, and bids him God speed. “God knows,” says William, “I need your good will. Now I know how Iudicare was set in the creed. I’m as sorrowful as the bee that buzzes (half-drowned) in the well. I hammer away at the Psalms until my tongue falters. I have repeated no lesson since Palm Sunday. Is there as great sorrow in song as in psalm-chant?”69

67 Bruce W. Holsinger, “Langland’s Musical Reader: Liturgy, Law, and the Constraints of Performance,” Studies in the Age of Chaucer 21 (1999):99–141. 68 Holsinger, 109. 69 Francis Lee Utley “The Chorister’s Lament,” Speculum 21 (1946):194–202, at 197.

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William is using his knowledge of the text of the Creed—or of how the words of the

Creed were “set”—to highlight his lack of patience.70 Several of the allusions of the

“Chorister’s Lament” are obscure, but it seems that this phrase of “knowing how the

Iudicare was set” was a somewhat frequent trope in middle English poetry; Francis Lee

Utley notes 7 instances of the phrase between the 14th and 16th centuries. It could mean to

“receive sudden instruction in the obvious,” as a sort of preview of Christ’s coming to

judge.

4.3.3 The Pearl Poem

The Pearl Poem, another important Middle English work from the 14th century,

also uses the Creed as an object of knowledge. The dreamer, who has lost his “Pearl,”

falls asleep and encounters a woman who identifies herself as Pearl; the bulk of the

poem is instruction in Christian doctrine from Pearl to the dreamer. About halfway

through the poem, the Dreamer states,

“That cortaysé is to fre of dede, Yyf hyt be soth that thou coney saye. thou lyfed not two yer in oure thede; thou cowthey neuer God nauther plese ne pray, Ne neuer nawther Pater ne Crede; And quen mad on the fyrst day! I may not traw, so God me spede, that God wolde wrythe so wrange away. Of countes, damysel, par ma fay, Wer fayr in heuen to halde asstate, Other elley a lady of lasse aray; Bot a quene! Hit is to dere a date.'

“Our gentle Lord acts too generously if what you say is actually so. You lived for less than two years in our world, knew neither your creed nor your paternoster nor how to pray or to please God, but were dubbed a queen on your first day! My Lord excuse me, but I cannot believe that God would make such a great mistake. On my word, young woman, it would be one thing If you were counted a countess of heaven Or allotted the role of a lower lady. But a queen no less—that exceeds the limit.”71

70 See Francis Lee Utley, “How Judicare Came Into the Creed,” Medieval Studies 8 (1946):303–309. 71 Pearl 481–492. Translation and text from Simon Armitage, Pearl: A New Verse Translation (New York: Liveright, 2016), 69.

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The dreamer is surprised that his Pearl, who did not even reach the age of learning the

Creed or Our Father, could be made queen upon her ascent into heaven. While the

religious implications call to mind the Lollard debates—the necessity, or lack thereof, of

prescribed Credal formulae for salvation—it is the fact that he is surprised by her

salvation despite being ignorant of the Creed that is interesting in the context of the 14th-

century development of the Creed.

4.3.4 Literary evidence from later centuries

Jumping to the 15th and 16th centuries, we can see that the Credo became a major

pedagogical tool, not just for religious instruction but for literacy instruction. The Credo

became a major tool for literacy primers by the 16th century. Kate van Orden notes how

students in France around 1600 learned first the letters of the alphabet, and then moved

to “syllabaries printed in large letters and containing the Pater Noster, Ave Maria,

Confiteor, and the Benedicte, all in Latin and all part of the catechism of Christian

doctrine.”72 Vernacular translations became more popular in the later 16th century, as

books of hours became one of the most commonly found books in French houses.

Pamphlets, usually eight folios long, containing the “ABC of Christians” were frequently

bound into family books of hours; these frequently contained the alphabet, the Our

Father, Hail Mary, and Credo, a table blessing, prayers, and responses for the mass,

72 Kate van Orden, Materialities: Books, Readers, and the Chanson in Sixteenth-Century Europe (New York: Oxford University Press, 2015), 118.

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followed by translations of the Our Father, Ave Maria, and Credo, with the Credo

frequently in rhymes.73

I have traced the development of the Credo as a catechetical requirement across

four centuries—from the academic and inchoate university debates of the 11th century to

the flowering of the Credo as an assumed point of knowledge in the 14th and 15th

centuries. Beginning with Lateran IV in 1215 and progressing throughout the 13th

century, the Credo was increasingly required as an object of preaching, catechism, and

knowledge. With this status in mind, it is helpful to examine the liturgical music that

was being used within the mass to see if these theological ideas were being incorporated

into the music.

4.4 The Credo Cardinalis

I have already introduced the music of the Credo Cardinalis in chapter three, and

will discuss the origin of its name in chapter six. A discussion of its musical features

perhaps fits best here, in noticing how it might fit into this broader project of teaching

and learning the Creed. The music—especially the form—of Credo Cardinalis is more

intricate than the music of the earlier Credo I, discussed in chapter three.

The most striking feature upon first hearing the Credo Cardinalis is how

different it is from the traditional Gregorian chant repertoire. In the Cantus Index, which

catalogs over 106,000 chants, only three chants are indexed with an opening downward

fifth-upward fifth motion.

73 van Orden, 134.

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1. An alleluia in a late 11th -/early 12th-century gradual, Modena O.I.13.

Figure 14: Modena O.I.13, f. 114v, "Alleluia"

Figure 15: Transcription of the Modena Alleluia74

This Alleluia and verse (“Exivi a Patre”), for the Fifth Sunday after Easter, begins on a d-

G-d motion, and this is preserved in modern chant books (cf. LU 831). According to the

Cantus Index, this is the only example in the entire Vatican Edition which preserves a

downward fifth/upward fifth opening.

2. A hymn, “O nata lux de lumine Jesu,” found in a 15th-century antiphoner from the

Marchiennes Abbey (Douai 116). It is a hymn for the office of Lauds on the feast of

Transfiguration (August 6).

74 From Karlheinz Schlagel, Thematischer Katalog der ältesten Alleluia-Melodien aus Handschriften des 10. und 11. Jh (München: Ricke, 1965), no. 408.

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Figure 16: Transcription of "O nata lux," from cantusindex.org, Melody mSTA263

3. A contrafact hymn of number two, “Quem terra pontus aethera,” found in a 15th-

century psalter-antiphoner-hymnary from the diocese of Lisieux (Paris, Ste. Genevieve

113, f. 162r). It is an office hymn for the common of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Figure 17: Transcription of “Quem terra,” from cantusindex.org, Melody mSTA205

Numbers 2 and 3 present the same melody with a downward-fifth/upward-fifth

introduction, just like Cardinalis, but these are the only instances of these hymn texts

with this melody. They are both found in other sources with different melodic openings,

with a common hymn melody used with other texts. In the LU it appears for the feast of

the Immaculate Conception (December 8):

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Figure 18: "O gloriosa Virginum," Liber Usualis 1314

The melodies in Figure 16 and Figure 17 are substantially different from that of Figure

18, but the opening gesture is remarkably similar; the melody of Figure 18 fills in the

bald leap of a fifth with passing tones, reducing the intervals sung.

This comparison shows how different the opening phrase and melody of Credo

Cardinalis is from the bulk of the Gregorian repertoire. Interestingly, the other popular

cantus fractus Credo melody, Credo Regis, also features a downward 5th/upward 5th

motion in its opening line:

Figure 19: Transcription of Credo Regis from the 1500 Giunta Graduale, 352r

Additionally, as pointed out in chapter three, many hymns from the middle Byzantine

corpus analyzed by Egon Wellesz begin on the D-A upward fifth, and this fifth is

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conspicuous in other late medieval music that is purposely imitating Greek music (like

Obrecht’s Missa Graecorum, or the Greek polyhonic music preserved in Faenza 117).

While it is not likely that there is any Greek influence on Credo Cardinalis, it is

interesting to point out that much of this early monophonic and polyphonic mass music

circulates around southern France and the Avignon Papal court. There was a Greek

émigré there, Barlaam of Seminara, who fled the Greek Church for the Roman Catholic

Church in the wake of a theological dispute. He did have knowledge of both Greek and

Western music and translated ancient Greek musical texts into Latin with commentary.75

Beyond the opening melodic gesture, the most salient feature that defines Credo

Cardinalis as outside the Gregorian corpus is its rhythm. The rhythm generally follows

the accentuation of the Latin text, but unlike rhythmic presentation of other monophonic

melodies the rhythm of Cardinalis is square and prosaic. Hymns written in meter

provide a clear counterexample to the rather staid quality of Credo Cardinalis; Dufay’s

setting of “Creator alme siderum,” for example, adds a lilting quality of perfect tempus

to the chant melody based on the iambic meter of the text.

75 See Andrew Hughes, “Barlaam,” in Grove Music Online, and Thomas Brothers, “Contenance angloise and accidentals in some motets by Du Fay,” Plainsong and Medieval Music 6 (1997):21–51, at 26, fn.14.

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Figure 20: Hymn, "Creator alme siderum," Liber Usualis 324–5

Figure 21: Dufay, "Conditor Alme Siderum," in Bologna Q.15, f. 314v (image courtesy DIAMM)

Figure 22: Transcription of Dufay's "Conditor Alme Siderum," top line

Dufay’s treatment here no doubt reflects an oral tradition of rhythmic interpretation,

probably common to the rhyming and rhythmic hymn texts.

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The Credo text presents a very different problem, especially because of its lack of

rhythmic regularity. Interestingly, some Hussite Czech examples do exist from the early

15th-century giving the Credo in a repeated hymn-like strophic melody, thus treating the

Credo text as a strict psalm-tone text.76

When comparing the melodies of Credo I and cardinalis, we recall that the

lengthy melody of Credo I is actually made up of only four melodic phrases, heard in

different sequences. Three of them function as psalm-tone like phrases, and the fourth is

a liaison connecting them. Credo Cardinalis, on the other hand, is more subtle and

complex in its structure. Three downward fifth motions introduce the three persons of

the Trinity, acting as an announcement of the three main sections of the Credo—“God

the Father Almighty” (Patrem omnipotentem) (mm.1–2); “And in one Lord Jesus Christ”

(Et in unum dominum Jesum Christum) (mm.18–19); “And in the Holy Spirit” (Et in

Spiritum Sanctum) (mm.116–17). (Two other downward fifths are found, but without the

hold on the “A”—m.81 and m.139.) (see full transcription in Figure 23 below)

The musical form does not carry the discernible repetitive form or recitational

pattern of the Gregorian Credo. Nonetheless there are definite melodic motifs, or cells,

which constitute the music. Broadly speaking, the Credo Cardinalis is in two halves. The

first half (mm.1–95) is dominated by a cadence gesture first heard in mm.3–5. The

cadence is heard nine times in the first half, and then completely disappears. Other

76 Lenka Hlávková has been conducting research on the Canticum boemicale Otep myry containing a strophic Credo and Pater Noster and presented preliminary findings at the conference “Rhythm in Music and the Arts in the Late Middle Ages,” organized by the Czech Academy of Sciences, in November 2020.

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melodic gestures are confined to the first half. There is a rising-falling gesture (or

“cento”) in mm.19–21 which recurs several times (mm.34–35, 44–45, 46–47, 61,65-66, 82–

83), but is only seen three times in the second half (mm.153, 157, 160–1). Like the Credo I,

there is a “liaison” gesture which links various phrases (mm.6–8, 24–26) but that also

occurs only in the beginning.77

The Credo Cardinalis is primarily text-based in its musical setting and form.

Instances of word painting can be found—most notably, the descent of mm.84–86,

“passus et sepultus est,” followed by the dramatic octave leap of m.87, “et resurrexit.”

The only other octave leap is at mm.142, in the final clause of the Creed articulating the

concomitant beliefs after the three persons of the Holy Trinity (“Et unam sanctum”).

Through a combination of its rhythm and its musical details, the Credo

Cardinalis is a more dramatic musical setting of the text of the Creed than the Credo I.

Some aspects of the rhythm remain unclear—the earliest manuscripts preserve different

notations for the rhythm, and there is some indication that this was originally composed

in perfect tempus, rather than imperfect. Additionally, many of the earliest manuscripts

also preserve a second voice, though in each of those manuscripts a different second

voice is preserved.78 This may indicate that the origins of the Credo Cardinalis are tied

up with polyphonic and improvisational practices.

77 Geoffrey Chew and James W. McKinnon define centonization as “composition by the synthesis of pre-existing musical units,” which are called “centos.” “Centonization,” in Grove Music Online. 78 Cf. Gozzi, “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto.”

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177

Figure 23: Transcription with annotations of Credo Cardinalis

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4.5 Conclusion

It is difficult to definitively connect the composition of Credo melodies like

Cardinalis to any direct intervention of the catechetical project outlined in the first part

of this chapter. There are certainly enough pieces to suggest a possible connection—as

the Credo text became more important in the lives of believers, clergy and church

musicians had a great impetus to set it to memorable music. Indeed, it is likely that the

non-strophic and non-recitational nature of Credo Cardinalis makes it more memorable

or memorizable than the repetitive and psalm-tone-like Credo I; the heavy-handed

emphasis on multiple syllables on one reciting pitch in Credo I makes memorization by

association with a melody difficult.

Credo Cardinalis, on the other hand, offers a dramatic setting of the Credo text,

dividing the text into two roughly equal halves, offering possibility for improvised or

composed simple polyphony, and re-using a number of stock musical motifs

throughout. The articulation of several sentences with the downward fifth solidifies that

motif as introductory, allowing the singer to recall the various phrases of the Credo text.

On the other hand, the frequent formulaic cadences of the Credo Cardinalis

music perhaps insinuate a more learned audience or musical performance, using a

musical motif common in 14th- and 15th-century polyphony; the occasional melismas are

not easy to sing, and are more intricate than anything in the syllabic Credo I music.

Ultimately, it is difficult to make an argument from any of the extant literary or musical

sources other than to note the possibility of the cultural, catechetical background of the

composition of Credo Cardinalis.

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5. The Credo and Devotion

In this chapter I examine late medieval devotional practices in their relation to

the Creed. I argue that the Credo’s growth as a devotional tool led to the association of

various musical parts of the Credo with devotional practices. In order to better

understand these musical devotional practices, I first address the question of a definition

of late medieval devotional practice; while the contours of devotion are multi-faceted,

we can point to at least four broad devotional practices which focused on the Credo.

The first devotional practice I address is the Credo in artwork, particularly in

paintings, tapestries, and woodcuts. Several surviving examples of Credo paintings and

other artworks show how important it was an object of meditation for medieval

Christians. The second devotional practice is that of literary meditations on the Credo. I

highlight four different examples from the 13th to the 16th centuries which present the

Credo as an object of devotion and reflection, including as a deathbed meditation. The

third example is that of canonical commentaries, which show the degree to which the

Credo was understood as a hex against superstition. Finally, I address performative

aspects of Credo devotion in liturgy and music. Liturgically, the Credo featured a

moment of genuflection, a rite that became especially valued in Papal masses. I conclude

the chapter by examining musical points of devotion within polyphonic and

monophonic Credos, focusing on musical and notational gestures like homophony and

fermatas.

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Like the chapters on catechism and liturgy, this chapter attempts to draw

together various themes from several different genres, time periods, and locales.

Ultimately, I argue that understanding this devotional background helps to explain both

the rise in popularity of monophonic Credos after 1300, as well as the numerous strange

practices that developed in polyphonic Credos in the 15th century. Taking this devotional

cultural background into consideration, we can no longer say that the rise in

monophonic Credos from 1300 onward was unexpected or unexplained; indeed, the

musical practice fits perfectly with the broader cultural context of devotion to the text of

the Credo.1

5.1 A definition of medieval religious devotion

Devotion was perhaps the broadest category and most salient feature of

medieval religious life. Devotion includes all popular forms of religious expression,

from pilgrimage to the rosary to paraliturgical devotional songs; it encompasses the

“extreme saturation of the religious atmosphere” described by Johan Huizinga.2

Huizinga’s 1919 The Waning of the Middle Ages (Herfsttij der Middeleeuwen) explains the

two dominant factors of late medieval religious life as a posture of devotion and an

iconic tendency within thought—the tendency of the medieval mind toward images.3

1 Contra Richard Sherr’s statement that “It is not clear why, after approximately 500 years, there was this need to have new musical settings to replace the standard ‘Credo I.’” In Richard Sherr, “The Performance of Chant,” 189, fn.25. 2 Johan Huizinga, The Waning of the Middle Ages: A Study in the Forms of Life, Thought, and Art in France and the Netherlands in the XIVth and XVth Centuries, trans. F. Hopman (Garden City: Doubleday, 1954 [1924, original 1919]), 153. 3 ibid.

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Huizinga saw a conflict between the popular aspects of devotional religion and the more

stringent demands of official catechism; the multiplication of religious orders, of special

devotions, and of superstitions led to a wariness of the ease with which dogma and

Catholic doctrine was eroded by “facile beliefs.”4 Huizinga writes that the “highest

mysteries of the creed became covered with a crust of superficial piety,” but I argue that

the Creed conveniently bridged aspects of piety and official doctrine—it was

simultaneously devotional and catechetical. Later readers have revised Huizinga’s

skeptical reading of medieval devotion, but his observation and description of the

saturation of culture with religious devotion is still regarded as accurate.5 Despite the

opposition Huizinga sets up between piety and dogma, his description of the

“saturation” of religious culture with devotional imagery remains accurate.

In a further attempt to explain medieval religious devotion, Richard Kieckhefer

notes that these practices preclude easy definition. He places devotion “on a conceptual

map between the liturgical and contemplative elements in religion.”6 That is, it is not

bound in the strict order of medieval liturgy, nor is it associated with the unmediated

experience of God held by mystics; rather, devotional religion is the individual’s

response to God. Kieckhefer provides three major categories of forms which manifest

devotional practice—literary expression, artistic expression, and performance. The first

4 Huizinga, 156. 5 Edward Peters and Walter P. Simons, “The New Huizinga and the Old Middle Ages,” Speculum 74 (1999), 587–620, at 617. 6 Richard Kieckhefer, “Major Currents in Medieval Devotion,” in Christian Spirituality: High Middle Ages and Reformation, ed. Jill Raitt, John Meyendorff, and Bernard McGinn (New York: Crossroad, 1987), 75–108, at 76.

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two categories provide many surviving examples to study, because public and private

works of art and texts proliferate from the period. On the other hand, devotional

performance, like music and liturgy, is only found in the vestiges of the texts and

materials associated with it.

Kieckhefer further delineates several varieties of devotional literature. Meditative

works appealed to private use; texts for public delivery, like drama and lyrics and songs,

were another important genre; sermons, the third category, were perhaps the most

important of the literary categories because they constituted the genre most frequently

encountered by laypeople. In addition to serving as textual devotion, sermons also were

devotional events. The fourth category Kieckhefer identifies is that of compilation or

florilegia of patristic commentaries, used primarily by preachers in preparing sermons

and also by educated laypeople in interpreting a text. Art and performance, of course,

proliferated in this time period with significant public and private examples.

In addition to the forms and genres of devotion, there were recurring devotional

themes. Kieckhefer identifies the Passion of Christ, Marian devotion, cults of saints, and

the eucharist as the main themes of devotion, with penance and confession as an

underlying element to many of the devotional practices and themes. The ultimate goal

of the various devotional themes, forms, and elements was the believer’s salvation. The

unwieldiness of the contours of “devotion” is exposed by the attempts by both Huizinga

and Kieckhefer to define it; it exists in many varieties, forms, and genres, and

concentrates on many religious themes, but ultimately it is more helpful to concentrate

on individual examples which can be considered devotional.

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The Credo is a unique form of devotion in that it simultaneously straddles many

of the genres described by Kieckhefer. The Credo served as a text, the subject of artwork,

and a liturgical and performative subject for medieval believers. Devotions surrounding

the Credo frequently invoked the themes of the Passion of Christ and Marian devotion,

and also held a strong liturgical and eucharistic emphasis because of its place within the

mass.7 Furthermore, it is likely that as the Creed was taught by clergy and friars and

learned by laypeople, it increasingly became an object of devotion in the late middle

ages. The devotional and catechetical aspects of the Creed are inherently linked, with the

catechesis providing the cultural and educational background for the devotional

flowering around the Creed.

5.2 The Credo in Art

Hundreds of artistic depictions of the Credo survive from the Middle Ages,

showing how it was received as a devotional text. Suzanna Simor has detailed the

evolution of the various themes of Creed paintings, noting that, aside from a few

detached attempts from the first millennium preceding what later became the primary

convention, the paintings’ tropes evolved from traditions of depicting the apostles

composing the Apostles’ Creed. The earliest Creed representations in art come from the

Carolingian period, but the depiction only became a common artistic subject in the

7 The Credo also featured in the office, particularly as the shorter Apostles’ Creed. One further devotional topic not covered in this chapter is the use of books of hours, which included the Creed (often richly illuminated) as a point of devotion during the office.

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eleventh and twelfth centuries, with the peak of production in the late Middle Ages.8

The Credo representations of the Middle Ages actually served a dual function: they

were important both as teaching aids for the explanation of the Credo and its history,

and also as loci of devotion in their focus on Christ’s birth, crucifixion, and resurrection.

Simor affirms that Credo programs were “erudite and comprehensive,” demanding both

an intellectual and emotional response. She writes that, “[a]s representation always

requires interpretation, the decision to present the central text of the Christian dogma,

however desirable it may have been as a tool for its dissemination, could never have

been taken lightly.” The combination of intellectual and devotional demands provided

ample social conditions for the spreading of Credo paintings in the high middle ages.9

Simor also postulates that the readiness of transalpine (mostly Parisian—see chapter

four) academic theologians to offer public theological speculation gave the Creed more

clout as an artistic subject in the northern lands, and indeed there are more surviving

works of art from Northern Europe.10 But, in particular, the combination of learning and

affect established the Creed as an enduring subject for artistic reflection in the late

Middle Ages. The most common image of the Apostles’ Creed depicted in art was that

of the twelve apostles surrounding Christ, contributing their individual statements to

the Creed.11

8 Suzanna Beatrice Simor, “‘I believe’: Images of the Credo from Charlemagne to Luther” (Ph.D. Dissertation, New York University, 1996), 34. 9 Simor, “I believe,” 37. 10 Simor, “I believe,” 38. 11 The belief that each of the twelve apostles contributed one of the twelve articles to the Apostles’ Creed dates to the fourth century, though it reached a high point in the fourteenth with sermons on the Creed

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5.2.1 Painting as devotional

From a general perspective, it is not surprising that artwork could inspire and

engender devotion. Here I lay out how artwork could serve as aids to, and seemingly

even as objects of, prayer, as well as the sites of miraculous events. Understanding the

devotional posture towards images in general illustrates devotional postures toward the

Credo.

Devotional artworks bridged the gap between private and public devotion, just

as devotional activity could be structured either liturgically or spontaneously.12

Devotion was a significant factor in the production and viewing of art in medieval and

early Renaissance Europe. Elizabeth Bailey recounts the diary of Giovanni Morelli and

the manner in which his devotion was encouraged by images. Caring for his dying nine-

year-old son, Alberto, Morelli recalls how the boy petitioned the Virgin Mary:

And he [Alberto] implored very many times God and his mother the Virgin Mary, having the panel with the Madonna brought before him, which he embraced with such humble devotion and such prayers and vows that there is no heart so hard that would not be moved to great pity on seeing it. Then, he commended himself to his father, to his mother, to his relatives, and to whoever was present with such humility and with such affection of words that it was a wondrous thing.13

disseminated under the name of Augustine (now called Pseudo-Augustine). See Curt F. Bühler, “The Apostles and the Creed,” Speculum 28 (1953):335–339. The most current and comprehensive study of the text of the Apostles’ Creed is Wolfram Kinzig, Neue Texte und Studien zu den antiken und Frühmittelalterlichen Glaubensbekenntnissen. 12 Beth Williamson, “Altarpieces, Liturgy, and Devotion,” Speculum 79 (2004):341–406, at 381: “Even individual, devotional prayer, which is so often understood as essentially private, sometimes took place in liturgical settings, even during or alongside liturgical services. The image that Ringbom used … actually shows that the duke has been in prayer in a semiprivate chapel and has turned his attention away from his own book and devotional image to observe the liturgical activity taking place at the adjacent altar.” 13 Cited and translated in Elizabeth Bailey, “Raising the Mind to God: The Sensual Journey of Giovanni Morelli (1371–1444) via Devotional Images,” Speculum 84 (2009):984–1008, at 990. Morelli’s diary was

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Morelli himself offered words of humility before the image of the crucified Christ:

O most holy and sacred Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, whose majesty and divinity illuminate holy Paradise and the whole world, concede to your lowly servant and faithful Christian enough of your infinite grace that I will be able to say lauds to you and revere you with those words that are worthy to pass before your presence, making them, through your mercy, favorable to the blessed soul [of my son, Alberto], who by your grace I earlier received a gift and who, if you will, may be blessed in your presence.14

The intermingling of the posture of prayer in humility before these holy images was not

unique to Morelli, as images were perhaps the most elemental access to religion for most

medieval Christians.

For example, Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby details the sermons of the Dominican

Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419) and the Franciscan Bernardino da Siena (1380–1444) in

late-medieval Florence; he points out that Dominici in particular offered visual images

as a teaching method and recommended them as aids to prayer in the homes of faithful

Catholics. Debby cites Dominici’s statement, “If you do not open your eyes to read holy

pictures and [do] good deeds, you will pick evil instead and acquire vanity.”15 Although

these medieval authors are not directly referring to paintings of the Credo, the Credo

developed into a particularly rich subject of art because it could stand either as a

published as Giovani di Pagolo Morelli, Mercanti scrittori: Ricordi nella Firenze tra medioevo e Rinascimento, ed. Vittore Branca (Milan: Rusconi, 1986). 14 Bailey, 991. 15 Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, Renaissance Florence in the rhetoric of two popular preachers: Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419) and Bernardino di Siena (1380–1444) (Turnhout: Brepols, 2001), 114.

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compilation of narrative scenes or as static portraits; gatherings of both types of images

were popular in the well-known polyptychs of medieval painting.16

The ubiquity of the devotional aspect of paintings from the twelfth through

sixteenth centuries is well-known. Cults of miraculous images proliferated in many

Italian cities. For example, Megan Holmes has documented 21 image cults just in

Florence from the years 1292 to 1501.17 These image cults mainly focused on depictions

of the Virgin Mary and the Crucifixion, with some cults honoring the Annunciation.

Holmes identifies Mircea Eliade’s concept of “hierophany” as the catalyzing

“manifestation of sacred immanence in … some kind of observable sign.”18 This sacred

immanence was not limited to images with miraculous reputations in medieval and

early modern Florence, but Florence remains one of the most well-documented areas of

image cults.

5.2.2 Credo painting as devotional and catechetical

The uniqueness of paintings, tapestries, and woodcuts of the Credo lay in

bridging the devotional and catechetical import of paintings. Many early images of the

Credo fulfilled a teaching function, showing in images the composition of the articles of

the Apostles’ Creed, for example. Later images extended the catechetical orientation by

showing in painting each of the narrative, and occasionally non-narrative, aspects of the

Creed—for example, the virgin birth, the crucifixion, the ascension into heaven.

16 Kieckhefer, 79. 17 Megan Holmes, “Miraculous Images in Renaissance Florence,” Art History 34 (2011):432–465, at 434. 18 Holmes, 439.

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As mentioned above, the narrative features of the Creed in painting were set

alongside more abstract features. Along with Simor, Roberto Mastacchi has further

defined the so-called “typological” Credo in Italian art—that is, the Credo which

portrays the twelve apostles with their contributions to the Creed, along with twelve

prophets prefiguring Christ and Christian belief.19 The goal of this painting was not only

to detail the apostolic origins of the creed, but to signify the one-to-one correspondence

between the twelve prophets of the Old Testament and the twelve apostles in the new.

Mastacchi in fact argues that a “Prophets’ Creed” emerges from an examination of the

Old Testament citations used in typologically explaining the statements of the Creed.

These typological motifs were embellished and developed in their artistic

emphases to include narrative scenes illustrating the Creed. As Ryszard Knapinski

writes, “An artist, carrying out a scene—for example the Nativity—does not need to

explicitly disclose that in this work he wants to illustrate the article ‘Natus de Maria

Virgine,’ because for him the scene of the ‘Nativity of Christ’ can be like all the others,

without dogmatic emphasis. At this point the doctrinal interpretation of the

iconography is not applied by the artist, but by the interpreter of the work, by the

observer.” There were many ways of depicting the Creed, and many different responses

from Christian observers.20

19 Roberto Mastacchi, “L’iconografia tipologica del Credo in alcuni cicli italiani,” Arte Cristiana 46 (2008):449–458. 20 Ryszard Knapinski, “L’iconografia del ‘Collegio degli Apostoli’ come illustrazione del Credo nell’arte europea,” in Figura Fidei: strategie di ricerca nel medioevo, ed. T. Rossi (Rome: Angelicum University Press, 2004), 11–40, at 13. My translation, from the Italian: “Un artista, eseguendo una scena, ad esempio il ‘Natale’, non deve esplicitamente rendere noto che in quest’opera vuole illustrare l’articolo Natus de Maria Virgine,

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The crossover between didactic and devotional art perhaps is predictable for a

subject like the Credo, which transmits the content of the faith and offers a space for

devotion on the means of salvation through the events it mentions. The Creed had

something of a modifiable nature, able to be important in different ways for different

purposes, most often devotional or catechetical. The initial impulse in the rise and

proliferation of Credo paintings and visual depictions was undoubtedly spurred by the

importance given to the Credo in the 13th century in the wake of Lateran IV, a historical

impetus examined in chapter four.21 Simor states that “apostles with the creed were at

home in many contexts, the object of a vast variety of commissions ranging from modest

to lavish, public and private.”22 The Creed was ubiquitous in Christian life—public and

private, in various artistic media, at rites of initiation and rites for the dying. This cross

between catechetical and devotional, public and private is not unique to the Credo, but

perhaps most pronounced with the Credo because of its complexity, its official status,

and its doctrinal history. But the themes of the Credo developed into moments and

aspects of devotion, especially by encouraging meditation on the events of Christ’s birth,

death, and resurrection.

perché per lui la scena del ‘Natale di Cristo’ può essere come tutte le altre, senza sottolineatura dogmatica. A questo punto l’interpretazione dottrinale dell’iconografia non viene applicata dall’artista, ma dall’interprete dell’opera, dall’osservatore.” 21 Simor, “I believe,” 286–7. 22 Ibid.

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5.2.2.1 Credo Tapestries and Woodcuts

While painting was the primary medium of depicting the Creed, a significant

number of tapestries and woodcuts offered devotional objects in private homes. In

discussing Agricola’s Credo Je ne vis oncques la pareille, M. Jennifer Bloxam points to

several aspects of the Creed as a devotional object which overlap with and shed light on

polyphonic settings of the Creed; she establishes artistic depictions, and particularly

tapestries and woodcuts, of the Creed as a sign of connection between devotional

aspects of the Creed and its representation in art and music. Bloxam argues that

Agricola’s manipulation of the chanson indicates a “deliberate effort to co-ordinate

certain music events in the deployment of this love song with particular points in the

text,” especially moments of narrative and moments of theological contemplation.

Further, she states that “polyphonic settings of the Credo, like Credo tapestries and

woodcuts, generally evince a segmented structure, articulating each article by cadential

placement as well as changes of texture and mensuration.”23 Bloxam’s observations

describe much polyphonic music from Agricola’s time, but there is a possible connection

between the segmented panel scenes of tapestries and the segmented phrases of

polyphonic Credo settings.

D.T.B. Wood, in one of the earliest scholarly examinations of Credo tapestries,

states that these tapestries—and, presumably, other similar works of art in other

23 M. Jennifer Bloxam, “‘I have never seen your equal’: Agricola, the Virgin, and the Creed,” Early Music 34 (2006):391–407, at 397.

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media—have been confused under other titles like Scenes from the Life of Christ.24 Indeed,

as indicated above, Credo paintings usually focused on such scenes. Wood identifies the

collation of apostles and prophets with clauses from the Creed as the identifying feature

of these Credo tapestries, as it was the “divisio symboli” (the act of dividing the Creed

into clauses attributed to different apostles) which was most frequently used as an

artistic theme, as stated above; he further advances at least six different tapestries

commissioned between 1395 and 1503 by various noble families of Europe.25 The

commissioning documents Wood identifies clearly specify the desire for tapestries of the

Credo; for example, a document from 1395 contains an order for three tapestries from

Louis, Duc d’Orleans, from Jacques Dourdin, “dont les deux sont de l’ystoire du Credo à

doze prophètes et doze apostres.” A corresponding will from Louis’ widow, Valentine

de Visconti, marks “ung des tappis de Credo” in addition to “un grant tappis … de

l’istoire du grant Credo,” along with two more belonging to her son Charles, described

as “grant Credo et petit Credo.” Although this artistic medium of the Creed has not

received much scholarly attention, the number is probably higher than the six indicated

in Wood’s research.

William H. Forsyth, updating Wood’s research in the 1960s while examining a

tapestry in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum, details the rise of Credo woodcut

prints as a related genre to the tapestries. As he writes, “The Credo was a logical theme

24 D.T.B. Wood, “‘Credo’ Tapestries,” in The Burlington Magazine for Connoisseurs 24 (1914), 247–249, 252–254, at 247. 25 Wood, 248. He notes there may be more than six, because it is difficult to tell if some sources refer to the same tapestries.

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for such didactic art, and although almost all prints representing it have disappeared,

presumably worn out by hard use, those that remain usually show the customary

division into twelve or more separate scenes, each so explicit in its imagery that its

meaning can be conveyed, if necessary, without words.”26 But he also states that the

images which composed the Credo woodcuts were such commonplace motifs that it is

difficult to ascribe specific sources of these images to the woodcut carvers and tapestry

weavers.27

The iconological relationship between tapestries and woodcuts is well

established: both media used stock images derived from a variety of sources—

Byzantine-style iconography, artistic tropes of various scenes from the lives of Christ

and Mary, pseudopatristic and pseudobiblical writings on events not recorded in

scripture—in order to make the illustrated events memorable and meaningful. The

relative abundance of these examples of woodcuts and tapestries—circulated mostly for

private meditation—demonstrates the popularity of the Creed as an object of meditation

in the lives of individual believers.

5.2.3 The Credo in Siena

Credo paintings followed a slightly different historical course from tapestries

and woodcuts, however. One of the most interesting studies is of the city of Siena, which

was singular in its devotion to the Credo in public works of art. Sienese Credo

26 William H. Forsyth, “A ‘Credo’ Tapestry: A Pictorial Interpretation of the Apostles’ Creed,” in The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, New Series, Vol. 21 (1963):240–251, at 242. 27 Forsyth, 245.

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depictions show an excellent case of the intermingling of the devotional and catechetical

nature of Credo artwork. Throughout most of northern Italy, artistic depictions of the

Creed spread in the fifteenth century in response to conciliar and catechetical activity

disseminating from the transalpine north.28 The most common artistic motif of these

regions was that of the collegium apostolorum mentioned above—the apostles

contributing their unique statements to the Creed. In Siena, however, a number of

political and ecclesial factors led to a unique devotion to Credos depicted with different

themes. As Simor writes, “each Sienese rendition addressed its audience directly, and

was conceived and employed for specific purposes in line with the aims and concerns of

the city-state.”29

For example, the murals in the right-hand chapel in the sacristy of the Duomo

probably surrounded a rare portrayal of the Nicene Creed (rather than the more

commonly illustrated Apostles’ Creed). The Nicene Creed panels are now held in the

Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, but Simor and John Gregory both argue that their

original place would have been in this chapel. These panels and the surrounding murals

highlighted theological allegories emphasizing the transmission of doctrine through the

generations of the church, and a scene from St Augustine’s life further helped to buttress

support for the papacy and a conciliar solution to the 14th-century schism.30 Similarly,

28 Suzanna B. Simor, “The Credo in Siena: Art, Civic Religion and Politics in Sienese Images of the Christian Creeds,” in New Studies on Old Masters: Essays in Renaissance Art in Honour of Colin Eisner, ed. John Garton and Diane Wolfthal (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 2011), 309–327, at 311. 29 Simor, “The Credo in Siena,” 312. 30 Simor, “The Credo in Siena,” 314. See also John Gregory, “The Credo of the Siena Cathedral Sacristy (1411–12),” Renaissance Studies 12 (1998):206–227.

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more visible panels in the Palazzo Pubblico stressed right doctrine, as well as themes of

the Eucharist and ecclesiastical authority, in order to offer a “compelling visual lesson to

the city officials.”31 The baptistry of Siena contains a ceiling mural of the Nicene Creed,

emphasizing the connection with baptism and the recitation of the Creed. Taking these

various public Credo representations into account, Simor argues that the purpose of

each Credo cycle responded to its particular location and historical occasion within

Siena. Each of these Credo representations had a different audience in mind: in the

sacristy panels, the audience was the clergy, whereas in the Palazzo Pubblico the panels

were aimed at the elected officials of the city; the panels in the hospitals were aimed at

residents and visitors, and those in the baptistery targeted all the Sienese who brought

their infants to for baptism in the church.

[The] function [of these pictorial catechisms] was to instruct… . Mindful of the power of images to communicate and make memorable, their theological advisors and artists employed devices to effectively visualize the doctrinal message.32

The Creed imagery of Siena confirms a strong association between image, doctrine, and

faith, motivated by current civic and ecclesial politics. That political association was

most prominent in Siena, but images of the Creed proliferated in other cities in order to

emphasize both doctrine and devotion.

31 Simor, “The Credo in Siena,” 315. 32 Simor, “The Credo in Siena,” 321.

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5.2.4 Other themes in the Credo in Art

The Credo in art was associated with other themes beyond devotional scenes of

the life of Christ and of the twelve apostles. Simor details three of them. First, the

Heavenly Jerusalem, found in frescoes probably dating to the 13th century, portrays the

“twelve apostles of the Lamb” from Revelation within the apocalyptic vision of that

book.33 Second, the Throne of Wisdom, dating to the 14th century, shows the apostles

with Creed banners around an enthroned lion. Third, the Tree of Life, dating to around

1400, portrays Christ as the true vine with his disciples as branches, often bearing the

scrolls of the Creed. Additionally, the Credo often appears in iconographic depictions of

the virtue of faith (Fides).34 The apostolicity of the Credo Apostolorum—its provenance

believed to be directly from the twelve apostles—engendered a particular devotion to

the apostles in their role as propagators of the faith.

The Credo also became a pictorial guide for ars moriendi, the art of dying.

Joinville’s Credo—which I will discuss later as a text—presents, according to Simor,

images and words “rooted in a most profound Christian faith in the redemptive efficacy

of the creed. Of all possible texts, the Credo was the one that itself would suffice in the

gravest need.”35 The point of the Joinville’s Credo was to fill the eyes and ears with

words of salvation—the words and images of the Creed—at the moment when the devil

was most ready to seduce the infirm. The artwork of Joinville’s Credo is unique but

33 Simor, “I believe,” 190. 34 See especially Suzanna B. Simor, “The Tree of the Credo: Symbolism of the Tree in Medieval Images of the Christian Creed,” Analecta Husserliana 56 (2000):45–54. 35 Simor, “I believe,” 213.

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plays on themes developed in other Credo illustrations, such as prophecies of Christ

from pagan and Hebrew sources, the crucifixion, and the resurrection.

5.3 Literary witnesses of the Credo’s devotional use

Besides pictographic representations of the themes and events mentioned in the

Creed, literary meditations involving the Creed’s text abounded in the late middle ages.

In this section I focus on and describe a few examples of this literary meditation in

several different genres. Joinville’s Credo is a combination of text and image offering a

deathbed meditation on the Creed; the Lay-folks Mass Book provides a vernacular text

for meditation during the Latin mass; English drama cycles give fully enacted

representations of the composition and articles of the Creed; and medieval mystics

recommended learning and meditating on the Creed as a means to holiness.

5.3.1 Joinville’s Credo

Joinville’s Credo (composed 1250–51) is an exceptional representation of the

Creed as a devotional totem. It combines the devotion of the Creed through text and

image, “poez veoir ci aprés point et escrit les articles de nostre foi par letres et par

ymages.”36 Lionel J. Friedman, the primary scholar of the text, writes that Joinville uses

the basic Creed text to represent the “minimum required of the faithful for salvation.”

Going beyond the minimum, however, Joinville delves into each article in an effort to

36 Lionel J. Friedman, Text and Iconography for Joinville’s Credo (Cambridge, Massachusetts: The Mediaeval Academy of America, 1958), 6.

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extract the “point of faith” which that article contains; it serves as a meditation on the

ultimate meaning for the believer of each article of the Creed.37

Joinville’s Credo was meant to be learned to prepare for death. As Joinville

explains:

Or poons veoir que il covient avoir ensamble ferme foi et bonnes huevres. Et pour nous oster ou de l’un ou de l’autre se combatent li anemi a nous touz les jours; et plus s’an traveilleront au darrien jour qu’il ne font ore, ce est a antendre au jour de la mort, la ou Diex et sa Mere, et si saint et ses saintes nous veillent aider. Au jours darrieins verra li fel qu’i nous ne porra tolir les biens que nous avrons fait et verra que nul mal ne nous porra faire, pour ce que touz li pooir dou cors nous het faillis. Lors nous assaura d’autre part et se traveillera et fera son pooir de nous metre en aucune temptation contre la foi ou en autre maniere par quoi il nous poissent faire morir en aucune malvaise volanté, dont Diex nous gart! Et lors sera touz propre li Romans as ymages des poinz de nostre foi, jusques enz enz la mort, pour ce que li anemis n’en apere par aucune malvaise avisions. Et devant lou malade façons lire le romant qui devise et enseigne les poinz de nostre foi, si que par les eux et les oreilles mete l’on lou cuer dou malade si plain de la verraie cognoissance que li anemis ne la ne aillour ne puisse riens metre ou malade dou sien, douquel Diex

Now you can see that one should have together steady faith and good works; the enemies fight us every day to remove us from one or the other; and they will attack us even more than they do now at the last day—that is to say the day of death—at which God and his mother, and the saints want to help us. At the last day, the evil one will see that he cannot take away the good things we have done, he will see that he cannot harm us, because all the power of the body will have failed us. Then he will assail us somewhere else, and will work and will make his power to put us in some temptation against the faith, or in another way, in order to make us die in some bad will from which God keeps us. And then the books with images of the articles of our faith will be suitable, until the moment of death, so that the enemy cannot work through any evil visions. And in the face of the illness let us read the roman which divides and teaches the articles of our faith, so that by the eyes and the ears we fill the heart of the invalid so full of the true knowledge that the enemy, neither here nor anywhere else, cannot put into the invalid anything

37 Friedman, 7.

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nous gart a celle jornee de la mort et aillors!38

of his own, from which God keeps us on this day of death and elsewhere!

Joinville encourages the reader to participate in meditating on the Creed through his text

and images at the moment of death, in order to keep the devil’s wiles at bay and fill the

eyes and ears of the reader with the articles of faith. Michael Curschmann has

demonstrated that the original manuscript, and its earliest two copies, were designed so

that the image on the observe of the text page could be displayed to the dying person

while simultaneously a layman could read the description of the Creed in the

vernacular. It became a “layman’s viaticum,” in Curschmann’s words.39

Joinville’s Credo is perhaps the most well-known example exhibiting the

devotional aspect of the Creed, and the pinnacle of lay literary devotion. That Joinville’s

goal is an exposition primarily through scripture—scripture most frequently

encountered through the liturgy, not through theological treatises in Latin—helps to

ground his devotion to and explication in words and images of the Creed in the daily

experience of Catholic Christians in the 13th century.

5.3.2 Lay-folks Mass Book

The Lay-folks Mass Book, a primer written around 1400, provides simultaneous devotions for mass attendants in English as the priest fulfills the ritual requirements in Latin. The book offers a rhyming English paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer and Creed. Both are offered “in englishe” to accompany the audible Latin prayer of the priest. I have included the entire text of this Creed in

38 Friedman, 50–51. My translation. 39 Michael Curschmann, “The Performance of Joinville’s Credo,” in Medieval and Early Modern Performance in the Eastern Mediterranean, ed. Arzu Öztürkmen and Evelyn Birge Vitz (Turnhout: Brepols, 2014), 63–76, at 73–74.

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Appendix D: The Text of the Vernacular Creed from the Lay Folks Mass Book.40

Reherse this oft in thi thoght, To tho gosple be don for-gete hit noght; Som-where bisyde, when hit is done, Thou make a cros, and kys hit sone. Men oen to saie tho crede som tyme, When thai saie hore, loke thou saie thine; This that folouse in englishe letter, I would thou sayde hit for tho better. Bot thai say hore, say thou non ellis, Bot do forthe after, als this boke tellis.41 Here to loke thou take gode hede, For here is wryten thin englyshe crede. I trow in god, fader of might, That alle has wroght, Heuen & erthe, day & night, And alle of noght. …

While other Middle English translations of the Creed exist in poems and dramatic

cycles, the Lay-Folks Mass Book example is notable for its instruction that the layperson

recite his “englishe Crede” along with the priest’s Latin Creed.42 As the author writes:

Men oen to saie tho crede som tyme, When thai saie hore, loke thou saie thine; This that folouse in englishe letter, I would thou sayde hit for tho better. Bot thai say hore, say thou non ellis, Bot do forthe after, als this boke tellis.43

40 The Lay Folks Mass Book or The Manner of Hearing Mass, ed. Thomas Frederick Simmons (London: Published for the Early English Text Society by N. Trübner, 1879). 41 Lay Folks Mass Book 18, ll. 193ff. 42 See Peter W. Travis, “The Credal Design of the Chester Cycle,” Modern Philology 73 (1976):229–243 43 Lay Folks Mass Book 18, ll. 193ff.

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When the priests recite their creed, you should recite yours; the author emends his

statement, however, by saying that the lay believer should “say thou non ellis” as the

priest recites in Latin, but only “do forthe after”—either after the manner prescribed in

his book, or after the priest has finished his recitation in Latin.

This vernacular paraphrase of the Creed shows how important it was as a text

for lay churchgoers to know. The text as presented in the Lay-folks Mass Book offers some

artfully-crafted interpretations in order to preserve the rhyme scheme, but the English

version does not stray from doctrinal orthodoxy.

5.3.3 The Creed in English drama cycles

Furthermore, the Creed was the subject of medieval English drama cycles, aimed

at edifying the faith of the audience. Peter W. Travis has argued that the Chester

Mystery Plays (or Chester Cycle), dating to the 15th century, were revised sometime

between the plays’ composition and 1575 to mirror the format of the Apostles’ Creed.44

In the play focusing on the Resurrection, for example, the apostle Peter is singled out as

the first believer, and his repentance after his denial of Christ is especially highlighted;

most of the other medieval English mystery plays focus on the Virgin Mary or Mary

Magdalene as the first believer.45 This emphasis on Peter reaches its fulfillment in the

Pentecost play, at which the apostles “have arrived at a full understanding of the

44 Travis, 241–42. Travis offers four possible dates for revision: 1) the cycle’s composition in the early 15th century, 2) a set of documented revisions between 1467–88, 3) 1519, when the week of the performance changed, 4) 1575, when pressures from the state urged changes to the cycle. 45 Travis, 232.

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credenda of Christian faith and are ready now to preach the articles of their creed.”46 The

movement from Resurrection to Pentecost and the composition and propagation of the

Creed is to be mirrored in the minds of the audience by recalling their own journey from

Resurrection to Pentecost; the narrative play thus serves to authenticate the purity of the

apostles’ belief, based in their historical experiences, and the audience is invited into that

experience and pure belief.

While the contents of another play, the York Creed Play, have not survived,

scholars have made inferences about its shape and structure. M.D. Anderson suggests,

based on the evidence of the illustrations of the Creed in the Arundel Psalter and the

Malvern Windows, that the York play proceeded through twelve scenes depicting each

article of the Creed through either narrative (like the Nativity and Ascension) or hieratic

pageantry.47 Alexandra F. Johnston writes that two plays, the York Creed play and the

also-lost Pater Noster play, were “conceived as didactic instruments for the cure of

souls.”48

That the Creed was important in these lay vernacular settings—plays and private

prayers at Mass—distinguishes it as an object of devotion. On one level, these tools were

functioning on the level of teaching and catechism. The Creed contains the fundaments

of the Christian faith, and therefore must be learned by the faithful. But on another level,

46 Travis, 233. 47 M.D. Anderson, Drama and Imagery in English Medieval Churches (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1963), 37. See also Alexandra F. Johnston, “The Plays of the Religious Guilds of York: The Creed Play and the Pater Noster Play,” Speculum 50 (1975):55–90, at 66–67. 48 Johnston, 80.

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the Creed served as a tool for contemplating the mysteries of that faith; therefore its

articles could be developed into elaborate scenes of drama, dance, and song.

5.3.4 The Creed and mystical devotion

The Creed permeated the language of mystical writers from the 14th century

onwards. Although mysticism and mystical theology can be traced to some of the

earliest Christian writers, like Augustine in the fourth century and Pseudo-Dionysius in

the sixth, mystical language reached a full flowering in 14th century Europe in the wake

of the spiritual and social changes wrought by the mendicant movements. Late medieval

mysticism was most popular in Germanic lands and England, where “mendicant

spirituality with its great stress on poverty and the naked following of Christ

experienced a specific radicalization in the direction of mysticism.”49 Many of the

writings of these medieval mystics make specific use of the Creed in explicating the

relation between faith and union with God.

5.3.4.1 Jan van Ruusbroec

Jan van Ruusbroec (Ruysbroeck) (1293–1381), a Flemish priest-turned-

Augustinian, wrote several volumes of treatises in Middle Dutch, though his works

were translated into other vernaculars and Latin early on. One of his works was an

exposition on the Creed, given the title “De Fide et Judicio” in its 16th-century Latin

edition.50 Ruusbroec, similar to the university theologians of the 12th century examined

49 Alois Maria Haas, “Schools of Late Medieval Mysticism,” in Christian Spirituality: High Middle Ages and Reformation, 140–175, at 140. 50 On the manuscript, printing, and edition history of Ruusbroec, see Guido de Baere, “Ruusbroec in Edition:

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in Chapter Four, comments on the intersection of faith and knowledge, offering the

Creed as a convenient shorthand for the knowledge necessary for salvation by faith:

Quisquis servari appetit, et ad aeternam pervenire vitam, huic omnino necessarium est, ut ad supremum usq; vitae suae diem fidem catholicam retineat.

Per fidem enim anima conjungitur Deo, despondeturque illi ceu sponsa suo sponso. Fides vera animam eo perducit, ut considat Deo: felicemque ac salutarem ei praestat Dei rerumque aeternarum cognitionem.

Et haec cognition hic incipit, et in vita aeterna perficitur, ubi DEUS facie ad faciem, it au test in seipso, in perenni clasritate videtur.

Fides quoque Catholica docet nos uti vivendum nobis sit, et quid Deus ex amore fecerit, ac deinceps in omnem aeternitatem facturus sit.

Atque eam ob rem sine vera fide nemo bene ac beate vivere, nec placer Deo, nec salvus effici potest, quicquid alioqui bonorum agat operum.

Itaque principio Christiana fides id nos instituit, ut singulus quisque fidelis absque ulla haesitatione et formidine, libero, syncero ac neutiquam ficto corde, animo sentire et ore profiteri debeat in hunc modum: CREDO IN UNUM DEUM,

Whoever desires to be protected, and to come to eternal life, entirely with this it is necessary, that even to the last day of his life he uphold the Catholic faith.

Indeed, through faith the soul is joined to God, and is betrothed to him like a bride to her bridegroom. True faith leads the soul to him, that it may have confidence in God, and it excels the happy and saving thing to Him of God, the examination of eternal things.

And this examination begins here, and is completed in eternal life, where God is seen face to face, thus as in himself, in continual clarity.

Likewise, the Catholic faith teaches us that we ought to live properly, and that that which God made from love, and hereafter that it be made in all eternity.

And therefore without true faith no one can have a happy and blessed life, and please God, and be able to effect salvation, whatever other good works he does.

And so in the beginning the Christian faith establishes us, that each faithful without any hesitation and fear, freely, sincerely and by no means from a false heart, ought to perceive and to declare by mouth in this way: I believe in one God,

Manuscript and Print,” in A Companion to John of Ruusbroec, ed. John Arblaster and Rob Faesen (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 81–99.

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PATREM OMNIPOTENTEM, FACTOREM CAELI ET TERRAE, VISIBLIUM OMNIUM ET INVISIBILIUM…51

Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible…

Ruusbroec is concerned with the “declaration by mouth,” appealing to Paul’s statement

in Romans.52 In Ruusbroec’s estimation confession by faith is most succinctly offered in

the Creed. Ruusbroec proceeds to examine the Creed article by article, offering an

analysis of what the text says, in addition to a spiritual meditation on how those

statements of belief apply to the lives of believers.

5.3.4.2 Julian of Norwich

Julian of Norwich (1343–d. after 1416) treats the Creed as an important safeguard

against being led into false belief by the devil. Perhaps the most famous of 14th-century

mystics, Julian received “revelations” or “shewings” from Jesus, which she wrote about

at length in her Revelations of Divine Love—revised toward the end of her life into a

longer version. One of Julian’s concerns is the temptations that arise through the

experience of mystical prayer, especially temptations to pride and temptations brought

by Satan disguised as an angel of light.

As Annie Sutherland notes, “throughout A Vision and A Revelation [i.e., the

shorter and longer texts of Julian], we find sustained emphasis on the importance and

efficacy of prayer.”53 At certain points, the “interly” prayer which Julian receives from

51 Doctor ecstaticus ex omnibus, iisque piissimis concinnatus opusculis altissima divinae contemplationis eructans mysteria (Coloniae Agrippinae: Friessem, 1692), 189. My translation. 52 Rom 10:10: “For man believes with his heart and so is justified, and he confesses with his lips and so is saved.” 53Annie Sutherland, “Julian of Norwich and the Liturgy,” in A Companion to Julian of Norwich, ed. Liz Herbert

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Christ—that is, contemplative, or “living” prayer beyond words—is connected with

liturgical practice.

For in this oure lorde lered me […] to hafe of Goddes gifte faith, hope, and charite, and kepe us therein to oure lives ende. And in this we say Pater noster, Ave, and Crede with devotion, as God wille giffe it. (Vision, 19.6–8)54

There is something of a tension between liturgical, spoken prayer and the inner gift of

contemplation in Julian’s writings. Sutherland postulates that Norwich uses the

liturgical prayers mentioned here—Pater noster, Ave, and the Creed—to comfort herself

when beset by temptations in prayer. Julian writes that “my tunge I occupied with

speche of Cristes passion and rehersinge of the faith of haly kyrke.” (Vision, 23.12–13)

This “rehersinge of the faith” is most probably a recitation of the Creed, a way of

meditating on and staying devoted to the traditional beliefs of the Church.

Julian uses the Creed as a devotion, a way of mediating the space between the

wordless prayer of contemplation and common worded prayer of liturgy and devotion;

the Creed, along with the Our Father and Hail Mary, serves as a sign and insurance that

such wordless prayer is orthodox and resistant to temptations of pride and visions from

the devil.

McAvoy (Rochester: Boydell & Brewer, 2008), 88–100, at 89. 54 Julian of Norwich, The Writings of Julian of Norwich: A Vision Showed to a Devout Woman and A Revelation of Love, ed. Nicholas Watson and Jacqueline Jenkins (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Pres, 2006).

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5.4 Evidence in canonical commentaries

Another use of the creed as a devotional tool is documented in canon law

pronouncements and commentaries from the Middle Ages. Raymundus of Penyafort, a

Spanish Dominican in the 13th century, compiled and commented on a large body of

canon laws that became normative in the medieval Catholic Church as a guide for

religious cases judged by clergy. Later guides on preaching cited Raymundus as an

authority as to what to teach in regard to propriety within church services and in

leading a moral life. One such commentary, the Fasciculus Morum, written in the 14th

century for English Dominicans, states:

But Raymundus says on this issue that if a man or woman gathers medicinal herbs or something of this kind and does so reciting the Creed or the Lord’s Prayer or writes these on a piece of paper which he places on the sick person, so that by doing this he only honors God, the Creator of all things, there is no reproach in this as long as nothing else of a superstitious character gets mixed in with it; thus in the Decretum, 26, question 5, Non liceat, and question 7, Non observetis. And Raymundus says: “It is safe if the person who does this is discreet, tried in faith, of a good life and good reputation, and if in no way prayers of this kind are spoken over an apple, pear, belt, or the like, but only over the sickness, according to the words at the end of Matthew: ‘They shall lay their hands upon the sick,’ add: in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, ‘and they shall recover.”55

55 Siegfried Wenzel, Fasciculus Morum: A Fourteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook (University Park : Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989), 577.

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The Dominican author quotes one of Raymundus’ commentaries on Gratian’s Decretum.

The cited text is actually found in several different medieval canonical commentators,

such as William Peraldus’ (c.1200–c.1271) Summa and the trial for sorcery found from the

reign of Edward II. 56 All of these texts—Raymundus, Peraldus, and the commentaries

emanating from them—attempt to explain in which situations sorcery can be legitimate

and effective; the Creed plays into this particularly, as it can be used as a sacramental

totem to ensure that an action otherwise associated with witchcraft is in fact Christian.

Peraldus accounts for why sorcery can be effective at all; his text reads:

Unde maleficia et talia remedia habeant efficaciam.

Sed quaeri posset unde maleficia et talia remedia efficaciam habeant frequenter, sicut videtur. Ad hoc potest dici quod multa sunt quae faciunt ad hoc quod maleficium efficaciam habeat.

Primum est hoc quod homines parvam fidem in Deo habent, et ideo Dominus permittit eos a daemonibus impediri.

Secundum est error qui in hominibus est, cuius poena frequenter est haec quod creditur esse effectus maleficii.

Tertium est probatio fidei in bonis, sicut ostensum est prius auctoritate Deuteronomii.

Whence sorceries and such cures have efficacy

But it is possible to be sought whence sorceries and such cures have efficacy often, as is seen. To do this it can be said that there are many things which make sorcery have efficacy.

First is this as far as men have little faith in God, and therefore God permits them to be hindered by demons.

Second is error which is in men, of which frequently the penalty is this which is believed to have been brought about by sorcery.

Third is the testing of faith in good people, as has been revealed in earlier times by the authority of Deuteronomy.

56 On Peraldus, see Richard G. Newhauser, Siegfried Wenzel, Bridget K. Balint, and Edwin Craun, William Peraldus, Summa on the Vices, <http://www.public.asu.edu/~rnewhaus/peraldus/>. The sorcery trial proceedings are published in A Contemporary Narrative of the Proceedings against Dame Alice Kyteler, Prosecuted for Sorcery in 1324, by Richard de Ledrede, Bishop of Ossory, ed. Thomas Wright (London: Printed for the Camden Society by John Bowyer Nichols and Son, 1843), xxiii ff..

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Quartum est pactum vel societas mala daemonum et hominum. Unde Augustinus: “Omnes artes huiusmodi vel nugatoriae vel noxiae superstitionis ex quadam pestifera societate daemonum et hominum quasi pacta infidelis et dolosae amicitiae constituta penitus sunt repudiandae et fugiendae Christiano.”

Quintum est desiderium lucrandi animas quod diabolus habet. Ideo enim diabolus talia efficit quia tot animas occasione ista lucrari se videt; qui enim talia facit, et qui talibus fidem adhibet, ipso facto diabolo seipsum dat.

Hoc tamen notandum est quod si aliquis colligat herbam medicinalem cum symbolo divino vel oratione dominica, ut scribat in charta symbolum vel dominicam orationem, ut ponat super aliquem infirmum, ut sic in istis tantum Deus creator omnium honoretur, non reprobatur dum nulla alia superstitio admisceatur.

Tria sunt quibus homines non prohibentur uti ad remedium, scilicet herbis et similibus, quae naturalem habent virtutem, de qua ratio secundum medicinam reddi potest.

Item ieiuniis, operationibus, et eleemosynis, et aliis operibus quae sunt de genere bonorum, quae certum est placere Deo, possunt homines uti ad obtinendum a Deo sanitatem et alia quibus indigent. Item possunt uti verbis

Fourth is the agreement or alliance of evil demons and of people. Whence Augustine: “All arts of this sort are either nullities or part of harmful superstition arising from some destructive alliance of demons and of men, and ought to be repudiated and fled from by Christians as agreements of disloyal and crafty friendship.”58

Fifth is the desire of gain for the spirit which the devil has. Therefore, in fact, he who does such things and applies belief to such things automatically gives himself to the devil.

It should be noted, however, that if anyone is to collect medicinal herb with the divine Symbol [i.e., the Creed] or the Lord’s Prayer, that he write on paper the Symbol or the Lord’s Prayer, that he place over someone sick, that thus, in such things, God, the creator of all, is honored, he is not condemned as long as he not mix in some other superstition.

There are three things which are not prohibited for use for remedy, namely herbs and the like, which have a natural power, and the reason for this can be posited according to medicine.

Also fasting, almsgiving, and acts of mercies, and other acts that are of the class of good things, which is certain to please God, they can use to obtain healing from God as well as other things they need. Also they can use the sacred words

58 Citing here Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana 2.23 (PL 34; NPNF 1.2:547).

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sacris quae alicuius auctoritatis sunt, et aliis sacris rebus.57

which are of some authority, and other sacred things.

Peraldus’ explanation of how sorcery and superstition can work is illuminating on a

number of levels, but of immediate concern is his singling out of the Creed and Lord’s

Prayer for ensuring that a task like picking medicinal herbs is not superstitious. For

these canonical commentators, the Creed is a safeguard against the illicit use of

sorcery—a sort of litmus test for orthodoxy. Reciting the Creed while picking herbs or

placing the Creed in writing over an ailing person is not considered sorcery, because it

ensures adherence to the beliefs of the Church.

5.5 Summary of the Credo in Devotional culture

These myriad examples demonstrate how essential the Creed was to the

devotional culture of late-medieval Europe. As shown in Chapter Four, the Creed was

exalted as the primary catechetical text because of the theological and canonical efforts

of 12th- and 13th-century churchmen, and was established as the primary proof of

knowledge of faith. The examples put forth here show how the catechetical nature of the

Creed coincided with its devotional use. If it could be used as a text to establish the

fundamental knowledge of Christian belief, it could also be used through various media

to inspire devotion and generate reflection on the aspects of those texts.

57 Peraldus, Summa de vitiis, Tractatus VI: “De superbia”, Pars iii, caput 36. Text available on William Peraldus, Summa on the Vices, at http://www.public.asu.edu/~rnewhaus/peraldus/.

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5.6 Musical examples of devotional uses of the Credo

5.6.1 Choreography of the Credo during Mass

Having considered examples from painting, art, and literature, we can observe

how the Credo was treated in liturgical performance, both musically and in terms of

worship. One primary point of this liturgical devotion is the act of kneeling during the

Creed. Kneeling at certain points in the Credo was an ancient tradition by the 15th

century. As I will explain in the next chapter, several liturgical commentators from the

12th and 13th centuries mention it when describing the parts of the mass. Richard Sherr,

in his description and analysis of the Papal chapel diaries of Paride de Grassis, offers a

glimpse of how many customs had grown around the Credo in the early 16th century. De

Grassis usually refers to the singing of chant by the singers of the Papal Chapel, but

occasionally he mentions performances of polyphony:

Credo cantatum fuit hodie nescio qualiter per cantores, ut dixerunt per XVI voces.59

A Credo, I don’t know which one, was sung today by the singers, and they sang it in xvi voices.

Sherr notes that de Grassis singles out the Credo because it was difficult to hear the

words intelligibly, especially the “et incarnatus est,” which was the cue for everyone to

kneel; de Grassis writes in a 1510 entry:

Cantores cantarunt cantum Gregorianum except Credo quem sic confuse cantarunt

The singers sang in Gregorian chant except for the Credo, which they sang so confusedly that many did not understand

59 Richard Sherr, “The Papal Chapel ca.1492–1513 and its Polyphonic Sources” (Ph.D. dissertation, Princeton University, 1975), 93; citing Vat. Lat. 12413, f. 156’. Entry for Saturday of Easter Week, 1507. Sherr’s translation.

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ut multi non intellexerunt verba massime ille videlicet et incarnatus est.60

the words, especially, for example, “et incarnatus est.”

Sherr offers further analysis of the complexities behind the Credo performance at the

Papal Chapel, describing the complicated actions surrounding the Credo.

The celebrant reads the Credo. At the words “Et incarnatus est … Et homo factus est,” he and his assistants kneel. When he has finished, he sits down. When the pope and cardinals get to ‘Et incarnatus est’ they kneel, but the celebrant does not. But when “Et incarnatus est” is sung, the celebrant inclines his head towards the altar. There is nothing in the chapter [from de Grassis] to indicate if the singing was entirely in chant or polyphony or any combination. What is clear, however, is that from a ceremonial and liturgical point of view it did not much matter whether the singers were there or not, the important thing being that the sacred words were said by the celebrant.61

It is possible that the Credo in this instance actually resembles the liturgical use of a

motet, a paraliturgical ornament to the service. These traditions of kneeling, along with

the fermata passages frequent in Credo settings, highlight a connection between local

liturgical practice and polyphonic traditions. Additionally, the number of single-

movement Credos—i.e., self-standing Credos not within a cyclic Mass—perhaps is

related to de Grassis’ observation of a Mass sung in plainchant except for the Creed.

5.6.2 Homophonic moments in polyphonic Credos

Points of homophony are common in polyphonic Credo movements at the

textual marks De Grassis points to—specifically, the “et homo factus est” or “et

60 Sherr, “The Papal Chapel,” 94. Sherr’s translation. Citing Vat. Lat. 12414, fol. 17. 61 Richard Sherr, “The Singers of the Papal Chapel and Liturgical Ceremonies in the Early Sixteenth Century: Some Documentary Evidence,” in Rome in the Renaissance, the City and the Myth: Papers of the Thirteenth Annual Conference of the Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, ed. P.A. Ramsey (Binghamton: Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, 1982), 249–64, at 254.

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incarnatus est.” This pious practice has obvious implications for the polyphonic settings

of the Credo, but these musical moments—frequently highlighted by fermatas in the

Masses of the fifteenth century—have not received extensive treatment.62 Bonnie

Blackburn and Felix Diergarten have examined extended moments of homophonic

chords in Milanese motetti missales, a late 15th-century style which replaced the

movements of the mass ordinary (and of some proper movements as well) with motets.

Several of those motetti missales have a motet for the Elevation written in four-part

chords with long notes (breves, usually) and fermatas.

Blackburn points to a long history of using fermata chords to highlight

significant words—long, held chords (though without fermatas) are used in the Gloria of

Machaut’s mass (at “Jesu Christe”) and in the Credo of the same mass (at “Ex Maria

virgine”). Blackburn points to late 14th-century manuscripts like the Ivrea codex as the

first to have fermatas, but observes that homophonic passages with fermatas became

commonplace in the 15th century. She locates 253 passages in 177 compositions in

modern editions; unedited works would surely enlarge both numbers.63 The most

common words with fermatas in masses are “Jesu Christe” (33 times), “Amen” (30), “Et

62 The exceptions are Bonnie Blackburn, “The Dispute about Harmony c. 1500 and the Creation of a New Style,” in Théorie et analyse musicales 1450–1650: Music Theory and Analysis. Proceedings of the International Conference Louvain-la-Neuve, 23-25 September 1999, ed. Anne-Emmanuelle Ceulemans et Bonnie J. Blackburn (Louvain-la-Neuve: Publications d’Histoire de l’Art et d’Archéologie de l’Université Catholique de Louvain, 2001), 1–37; and Felix Diergarten, “‘Aut propter devotionem, aut propter sonorositatem’: Compositional Design of Late Fifteenth-Century Elevation Motets in Perspective,” Journal of the Alamire Foundation 9 (2017):61–86. 63 Blackburn, 17.

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homo factus est” (11), “Et homo” (4), and “Ex Maria Virgine” (5). The texts paused on in

motets are generally unique.

Blackburn and Diergarten have discovered and analyzed compositional formulae

within these homophonic passages. Blackburn describes one harmonic movement as “a

melodic-harmonic complex that becomes increasingly frequent as the century

progresses.”64 She presents an excerpt from Dufay’s Gloria no.21 as representative:

Figure 24: Excerpt from Dufay, Gloria No. 21, mm. 53–8 (from Blackburn, 25)

In the “formula,” the superius and tenor descend in parallel sixths, and the lowest voice

alternates thirds and fifths below the tenor. Blackburn further links this formula to

passages from theorists like Guilielmus Monachus describing writing in four parts.

Felix Diergarten amplifies Blackburn’s analysis and applied it to a “devotional

style” in Renaissance note-against-note music.65 He derives three categories describing

note-against-note music based on sixteenth-century compositions and theoretical

64 Blackburn, 27. 65 Felix Diergarten, “‘Aut propter devotionem, aut propter sonorositatem’”, 62–3.

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writings—clausulae (“cadences”), gymel progressions (“sequences”), and tabula naturalis

(four-part sonorities connected by a rule).66

In the polyphonic Credos I have examined, I have found 12 instances of paused

or slowed-down movement in the Creed.67 These are all of different nature; some are

homophonic, others have some independent motion of voices, but they bring out

different themes of devotional moments in music. There are also examples of fermatas in

monophonic Credos, which I will consider below. It is difficult to classify these

devotional moments according to Diergarten’s categories; they generally align in the

“clausula” category, though without the harmonic (or formulaic) features he and

Blackburn describe.

Figure 25: "et homo factus est" from Clibano, Patrem de Vilage (VatS 51, f. 178v-180r)68

66 Diergarten, “Aut propter devotionem,” 64–5. 67 My intentions to search for more examples of devotional pauses in polyphonic Credos were altered by limited library access during the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020. These examples represent editions I already owned or had access to through electronic editions, covering about 50 examples from 15th-century composers. This includes all of the polyphonic Credos analyzed by Sherr in “The Performance of Chant,” table 7.12, 203. 68 Modern edition in An Editorial Transnotation of the Manuscript Capella Sistina 51: biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Città del Vaticano: Liber Missarum, vol. 1 ed. Rex Eakins (Ottawa: Institute of Medieval Music, 1999–2005), 106–128.

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Figure 26: from Ockeghem, Credo sine nomine69

Figure 27: from Josquin, Patrem Vilage 1; rhythmic values halved70

Figure 28: from Brumel, Missa de Beata Virgine71

69 Johannes Ockeghem: Collected Works 2:59–64. 70 New Josquin Edition 13, ed. Barton Hudson, 47–65. 71 CMM 5:4, 13–24.

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Figure 29: from Martini, Missa Cucu72

Figure 30: from La Rue, Missa Nunca fué pena mayor73

Figure 31: from Pipelare, Missa Fors seulement74

72 Martini, Masses part 1, ed. Elaine Moohan and Murray Steib; Recent Researches in the Music of the Middle Ages and Early Renaissance, vol. 34, 77–134. 73 CMM 97:4, 128–152 74 CMM 34, 82–113.

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Figure 32: from Josquin, Missa La sol fa re mi75

Figure 33: from La Rue, Missa Almana76

75 NJE 11, 34–67. 76 CMM 97:1, 46–84.

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Figure 34: From Josquin, Missa Sine nomine77

These examples are obviously all of very different natures. Only four of them use

fermatas, and several of them advance significantly on the pure homophony of

77 NJE 12:36–66.

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Blackburn’s and Diergarten’s examples. All of them end on major chords, except for

Clibano’s, which does not have a third sonority.

We can extend these examples, in fact, to include other fringe “devotional”

moments like in Josquin’s Missa Sine nomine (Figure 34). Josquin here is, perhaps,

riffing on an already-established pattern of pausing for devotional gestures at this

moment in the text; similar moments occur in other homophonic points in his music. For

example, the famous motet “Ave Maria…virgo serena” contains a nearly homophonic

moment at b.48, though with the tenor falling a beat behind the other three voice parts.

B.13–19 of the passage in Figure 34 does contain a “gymel” sequence noted by

Diergarten: parallel sixths between tenor (anticipating by one beat, thus avoiding

parallel fifths with bassus) and superius; and the step-up, third-down motion in all four

voice parts indicative of “sequence” writing.

Josquin’s Patrem Vilage 1 (Figure 27) is along the lines of Clibano’s “traditional”

devotional pause with its limited bass movement (only four unique pitches). The

superius actually appears in imitation of the tenor, delayed by two breves (compare

superius b.177 and tenor b.175). The “Amen” from the Credo of Martini’s Misa Cucu

(Figure 29) is, similarly, in this traditional style, though one of the few examples which

places the homophonic emphasis on the “Amen.” In many of the monophonic credos of

the 15th century the Amen is the most elaborately melismatic moment, but this is

unusual in polyphonic Credos. The superius line is nearly in parallel sixths with the

tenor, with the exception of the second chord of the Amen, where the tenor remains on

C. La Rue’s “Et homo factus est” (Figure 30) from Missa nunc fue pena mayor does have

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parallel sixths between superius and tenor. All of the above-mentioned examples

contain prominent bass movement by fourth, as well—either on the first two chords, last

two chords, or both.

Diergarten and Blackbrun fix the “devotional style” particularly on passages

with fermatas, citing the Milanese composer Simon de Quercu’s 1509 Opusculum musices:

“In this sign [i.e., the fermata] all parts come together, be it for devotion, be it for

sonority.”78 But Diergarten is willing to broaden the definition of “devotional” pieces to

include works with few fermatas. The other examples without fermatas still fall within

the “devotional” pattern.

The analytical goal of both Diergarten’s and Blackburn’s essays is to describe the

chordal movements in contrapuntal rather than harmonic terms. Such contrapuntal

motion has received much attention as the source of improvisation super librum,

especially analyzed in the writings of Peter Schubert, Julie Cumming, and Philippe

Canguilhem.79 The lines between “successive-contrapuntal” and “simultaneous-

harmonic” textures are blurred, and Blackburn and Diergarten seek to explain these

“simultaneous-harmonic” textures in terms of counterpoint rather than harmony.80 It

seems unlikely, however, that these devotional movements arise from strictly

improvised textures, but rather are informed by the homophonic devotional texture of

78 Diergarten, “Aut propter devotionem,” 73. “In isto signo omnes voces convenient aut propter devotionem aut propter sonorsitatem.” Citing Simon de Quercu, Opusculum musices (Vienna, 1509), sig. di-dii. 79 For a summary and bibliography, see most recently Peter Schubert, “Contrapunto Fugato: A First Step Toward Composing in the Mind,” Music Theory Spectrum 42 (2020):260–79. 80 Diergarten, “Aut propter devotionem,” 64.

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other works. Indeed, in all of these musical examples the contrast of the homophonic

excerpt to the contextual surrounding polyphonic texture is jarring and creates a

dramatic musical effect. The concordant spot in Machaut’s Mass (b.67 of the Credo; see

Figure 35) is not as seemingly out-of-place because the texture of the entire Credo is

homorhythmic.

Figure 35: From the Credo of Machaut's Mass (time values halved)81

If Figure 35 is one extreme of playful devotional moments in the Creed, the fermata

passages in Figure 25, Figure 27, Figure 29, and Figure 30 provide another extreme.

Clibano’s “et homo factus” (Figure 25), from the Papal Chapel repertoire (VatS 51),

moves entirely between two chords, D and G; the bassus only moves between D and G,

while the Altus sings only one pitch, D. The nature of the fermatas in the superius is

unclear. Clibano’s superius writing brings to mind some of the decorative ornamental

81 Daniel Leech-Wilkinson, Machaut’s Mass: An Introduction (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 194–203.

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superius writing with fermatas of earlier composer—for example, the Amen from

Grossin’s “Gloria.”

Figure 36: "Amen" from Estienne Grossin's "Gloria"82

Diergarten also fixes upon Josquin as offering unique examples of devotional style in

long notes but without fermatas, specifically in his Tu solus qui facis mirabilia. As

Diergarten writes, “This work has more rhythmic flexibility than the pieces discussed so

far and the number of fermatas is—again—flexible in the transmission process.”83

5.6.3 Devotional moments in monophonic Credos

A handful of monophonic Credos also exhibit devotional gestures similar to

these homophonic moments of polyphonic masses. The most relevant features in

monophonic credos include fermatas, repeated text, and colored text.

82 From Timothy McGee, The Sound of Medieval Song (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 106. 83 Diergarten, “Aut propter devotionem,” 83.

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5.6.3.1 Fermatas

Six Credos in two manuscripts I have examined use fermatas in monophonic

textures at certain points in the Credo.

Table 5: Table of Monophonic Credos with Fermatas

Manuscript Date Folio Miazga number

Text with fermatas

Fribourg F3 14th century84

323r 113 Et homo factus est

Pisa Biblioteca Cateriniana 219

15th c.85 107v 192 (unicum) Patris; mortuo

Pisa 219 15th 150v 129 (unicum) Natum; dominum; vivificantem; simul adoratur; baptisma

Pisa 219 15th 157v 667 (unicum) Et expecto Pisa 219 15th 140r 528 (unicum) Patrem;

invisibilium; christum; unigenitum; secula; vero; sunt; celis; sancto; sepultus est; scripturas; celum; patris; finis; procedit; prophetas; ecclesiam; expecto; peccatorum; mortuorum; seculi

Pisa 219 15th 143v 26 (unicum) Virgine; et homo factus

84 Reaney, Manuscripts of Polyphonic Music, RISM B/IV/2, 61–2 85 Cf. Paola Raffaelli, I manoscritti liturgico-musicali della Biblioteca Cateriniana e del Fondo Seminario Santa Caterina dell’Archivio Arcivescovile di Pisa (Lucca: Libreria Musicale Italiana, 1993), 33–35.

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est;simul adoratur

Pisa 219 15th 164v 258 (unicum) Celi

Credo 113 in Fribourg F3 is the only Credo listed here that is not an unicum from the

Pisa manuscript. Not surprisingly, it seems most conventional in its use of the fermata,

using it to highlight a devotional text often highlighted in the polyphonic Credos.

Compared to other early manuscripts with the same melody, Fribourg is the only one

that uses fermatas for “et homo factus est.” Compare these images from different

manuscripts containing Credo 113.

Figure 37: Credo 113 from Erlangen 46486

Figure 38: Credo 113 from BSB Clm. 950887

86 Image from http://digital.bib-bvb.de 87 Image from http://daten.digitale-sammlungen.de

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Figure 39: Credo 113 from St Gall 54688

Figure 40: Credo 113 from Vat. Lat. 10769 (image from microfilm)89

Figure 41: Credo 113 from Rome, Angelica 142490

88 Image from http://www.e-codices.unifr.ch/de/list/one/csg/0546 89 Image from the Knights of Columbus Vatican Film Library at St Louis University. 90 My own photograph.

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Figure 42: Credo 113 from Fribourg F391

The sources in Figure 37 to Figure 41 are rhythmically prosaic in their presentation of the

text, presenting a syllabic setting of “homo factus est” with minims, or with an

expanded cadence rhythm in Figure 41. In Figure 42, someone has added fermatas to

this text, and the music is slightly different from the other versions. It is difficult to

discern if these fermatas were added by a different hand based on the microfilm

facsimile available to me.

The examples available in the Pisa manuscript—all unica—seem to use the

fermata as a rhythmic device rather than as a devotional signifier (see Figure 43). Credo

528 has a fermata at virtually every cadence within an otherwise unremarkable musical

setting. Credo 26 seems to use the fermata in its more traditional role as highlighting an

important devotional moment in the music. Several of the Credos in Pisa 219 are in two-

part simple polyphony, and the manuscript as a whole deserves in-depth study as a sort

of Credo omnibus with several unica. It is strange to accept that these fermatas mean the

91 Image from microfilm held at the UCLA library, under the title “A 14th century Gradual containing polyphonic compositions located in the Fribourg Bibliothèque des cordeliers, Mss. F. 3”

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same as modern fermatas, as the holds they indicate frequently lie on syllables that

would not be accented in Latin. They might indicate some other feature, such as

ornamentation.

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Figure 43: Pisa 219, 89v

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5.6.3.2 Repeated text

Repetition of the words of the Credo seems odd in a monophonic context but is

encountered surprisingly frequently.

Table 6: Table of Monophonic Credos with repeated text

Manuscript Date Folio Miazga number

Repeated text

Erlangen 464 15th 28v 628 Maria Fribourg F3 14th 326v 33 Facta sunt;

maria Fribourg F3 14th 327v n/a Vero; genitum BSB Clm. 9508 1452 286v 450 Maria virgine BSB Clm.23286 15th 36v 602 Cuius regni

non erit finis BSB Clm.23286 15th 38r 531 Ex maria

vigine Pistoia B.8 15th 54r 194 Amen. Rome Angelica 1424

14th 109v 450 Ex maria virgine

St Gall 546 1507 26r 450 Maria virgine St Gall 546 1507 27r 33 Confiteor Vienna 15501 1509–1516 53v 628 Maria Vienna 15501 1509–1516 56r 615 Et sepultus est Wroclaw R 3067 15th 17r 450 Maria virgine

Clearly, Credo 450 appears to be the most subject to these devotional expansions, with

“Maria virgine” repeated in four manuscripts (which also represents all the manuscripts

with this Credo I was able to examine; Miazga records 17 manuscripts, the latest from

1692). Of the thirteen Credos with repetitions recorded in this table, eight of them have

Marian repetitions, reflecting the strong emphasis on Marian devotion in the 14th and

15th centuries. Interestingly, “ex Maria virgine” is not as popular a pausing point in

polyphonic masses.

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Why would there be any need to repeat text in monophonic music? Such a

phenomenon is generally not known in any traditional Gregorian chant books, and this

is probably one of the “hopeless corruptions” of later chant Richard Sherr refers to in his

essay on chant in the Renaissance.92 It is possible that, along with other Credos

mentioned in this dissertation (like Credo Cardinalis), the above Credos had some

relationship with polyphony—either improvised or written. This is most likely in the

case of the Pisa 219 Credos discussed above, especially because several of those Credos

are written in two parts. It is difficult to make the case for these Credos which all survive

in one-voice versions.

5.6.3.3 Colored Text

There are 10 monophonic Credos which have rubricked text at special moments.

Table 7: Table of Monophonic Credos with Colored Text

Manuscript Date Folio Miazga number

Colored text

Arezozo D Pieve

15th c? 2r Uncatalogued “et homo factus est”

Erlangen 464 15th 30v 123 Amen Perugia San Pietro B

15th a.f. 238 Ex Maria Virgine et homo factus est; Amen

Perugia San Pietro B

15th 48v 319 Ex Maria Virgine et homo factus est

Perugia San Pietro B

15th 179r 374 Et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto ex

92 Sherr, “The Performance of Chant,” 178.

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Maria Virgine et homo factus est

Perugia San Pietro B

15th 187r 252 Et homo factus est

Perugia San Pietro B

15th 197r 503 Et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto ex Maria Virgine et homo factus est

Pistoia B.8 15th 53v 319 Et homo factus est

Roma Biblioteca Nazionale Farf. 33

1514 170v 279 Et homo factus est

Perugia San Pietro B—the manuscript with five entries in this table—contains six

Credos, many of them apparently added later. Thus, the 15th-century date attested by

Miazga and others is probably not accurate for those Credos, though it is difficult to

determine the date of these additions. In any event, the manuscript tradition is nearly

unanimous (except for Erlangen 464) in rubrickating the text “et homo factus est” and

often the preceding Marian statement. Though it has been beyond the scope of my

research, I would suspect that polyphonic Credo manuscripts—especially presentation

manuscripts such as those of Alamire—would have similar text highlights for important

words in the Credo and Gloria.

There is little unique in the monophonic creeds about the musical moments of

those texts. Some of them also contain colored notes, though assumedly without any

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mensural change implied. The excerpt of Credo 374 from Perugia San Pietro B, for

example, begins in an imperfect prolation and tempus, and seems to move to perfection:

Figure 44: Perugia San Pietro B, f. 180v–181r

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There seems to be little other explanation for the red ink other than highlighting

these words as a particular totem of devotion, possibly (as with the other highlights

already examined) linked with the act of kneeling at these words.

5.7 Conclusion

This chapter has offered a broad survey of the medieval phenomenon of

religious devotion with the Credo as devotional object specifically in mind. As with the

other late medieval religious-cultural markers examined in this dissertation—catechism

and liturgy—the Credo figures prominently within the wide boundaries of devotion. In

a way, its devotional stature is linked to the success of the Catholic Church’s catechetical

project of the 13th century, especially in the wake of Lateran IV: the Credo became an

important text to know, a text by which one could verify her or his faith as existing

within the boundaries of Catholicism. Around that text grew florid devotional motions

and postures. Devotional painting was one way of exhorting viewers to those devotional

pauses, but polyphonic and monophonic music also shared in that task of calling

believers to cultivate reverence in line with the intellectual assent they had already

proclaimed.

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6. The Credo and the Liturgy

In order to recognize the liturgical changes surrounding the Credo in the late

medieval period, it must be set in relief against the liturgical changes of the rest of the

Ordinary, and the changing liturgical ethos in general. In this chapter, I investigate

several aspects of the Credo within its medieval liturgical context, with an eye toward

further elucidating the proliferation of new Credo melodies and toward contextualizing

polyphonic Credos in the late 13th through 15th centuries. The liturgical context I

investigate includes medieval liturgical commentaries explaining the status and purpose

of the Creed in the mass; the evolution of the mass ordinary as a “cycle” of movements;

the rubrical designation of monophonic Credos ensuant to the collecting of the ordinary

movements; and the possible influence these rubrical designations had on naming

Credos.

6.1 Liturgical Commentaries

A topic of great concern for medieval liturgical commentators was the

appropriate times and days for singing the Credo at the mass. In this section I examine

the work of three medieval liturgical commentators—William Durandus, Sicardo, and

Innocent III—specifically in how they determine the times for adding the Credo to the

mass. Their commentaries on the Creed show that it was treated primarily as an

ornament for highlighting the festivity of a mass celebration, and secondarily as a

reenactment of the history of the church and the life of Christ.

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William Durandus (also called Durand), bishop of Mende, France from 1285–

1296 and member of the papal curia, wrote his Rationale divinorum officiorum around

1286, and it quickly became regarded as “the definitive medieval liturgical treatise.”1

Comprising eight books of commentary on different aspects of the mass and offices—

from architecture and vestments to the concrete sources, rites, and interpretation of

liturgy—Durand’s treatise was remarkably successful in its attempt to educate clergy

about the meaning of what they were performing.

Dom Prosper Guéranger, founder of the Solesmes monastery, declared the

Rationale to be “the final word from the Middle Ages on the mystery of the Divine

Services.”2 The Rationale has the distinction of being the second non-Biblical book

printed at Gutenberg’s press (preceded only by a second-century Latin grammar), and it

saw another 104 printings between 1459 and 1859.3 Durand’s commentary has endured

through centuries; an excerpt of book one was even translated by John Mason Neale and

published as The Symbolism of Churches and Church Ornaments in 1842 in an effort to

buttress the high church aesthetic of the Anglo-Catholic Oxford Movement writers.4

1 Timothy Thibodeau, “From Durande of Mende to St. Thomas More,” in Ritual, Text and Law: Studies in Medieval Canon Law and Liturgy Presented to Roger E. Reynolds, ed. Kathleen Grace Cushing and Richard Francis Gyug (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 83–94, at 84. 2 Prosper Guéranger, Institutions liturgiques, 3 vols (Paris: Sagnier et Bray, 1840–51), I, 355. The three volumes and extracts thereof have been reprinted several times. 3 Thibodeau, “From Durande,” 84 4 William Durandus, The Symbolism of Churches and Church Ornaments: A Translation of the First Book of the Ratioanle Divinorum Officiorum (Leeds: T.W. Green, 1843).

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Durand, however, was not the only medieval commentator on the mass. His

work borrows much material from the earlier commentaries of Sicardo of Cremona (the

Mitrale of the 1180s) and Innocent III (De Sacro Altaris Mysterio of the 1190s). All three

works treat the Creed nearly identically, giving the same explanation of the text of the

Creed and reasoning for days when it can and cannot be sung.5

Durand’s commentary on the Creed in book four of the Rationale begins with an

exposition of its history and liturgical significance. He covers the Apostles’ Creed which,

like all medieval writers, he believes was composed in twelve clauses by the twelve

apostles at Pentecost. He also discusses the non-liturgical Athanasian Creed before

covering the Nicene Creed. Durand states that the Nicene Creed was “decreed [to] be

sung openly at Mass” by Pope Damasus (r.366–384), “although Pope Mark I had already

decreed that it be sung in a raised voice.” There is, however, no evidence from the fourth

century supporting this.6

While discussing the individual articles of the Creed, Durand notes moments of

devotion. For example, “and when we say in that place, ‘And became man,’ we must

genuflect, because we adore Christ becoming man for us and being crucified for us.”7

Durand also details the occasions on which the Nicene Creed is sung, namely “on the

5 Sicardo’s Mitrale is in PL 213; the portion on the Creed is col. 112B–113D. Innocent’s De Sacro Altaris Mysterio is in PL 217; the portion on the Creed is col. 827B–830B. 6 Durand 4.25.7. Translation from William Durand, Rationale Book Four: On the Mass and Each Action Pertaining to It, trans. Timothy M. Thibodeau (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 219 7 Durand 4.25.10 (Thibodeau, 220).

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feasts of those who composed it, and in feasts where some mention of them is made.”8

This again assumes a devotional position, honoring those mentioned in the Creed with

its singing; some exceptions have to be explained, such as the fact that the Creed is not

sung for the birth of John the Baptist (June 24) and the feast of St Lawrence (August 10),

but it is sung on their octaves, which occur during the octaves of the Apostles and of the

Assumption, respectively. Some churches, however, do sing the Creed on feasts of John

the Baptist because he was “more than a Prophet,” and prophets are mentioned in the

Creed; Durand deems this an acceptable practice.9 St. Mary Magdalene and St. Martin

also can be accorded Creeds in their masses, because Mary is considered “apostle to the

apostles” and Martin an “equal to the apostles.” Sicardo and Innocent similarly give lists

of appropriate days for including the Creed at mass, and the reasoning, examples, and

exceptions accord with each other: if a saint is mentioned in the text of the Creed, even

tangentially, the sanctoral mass in commemoration of that saint will feature a sung

Creed.

In another common motif of medieval liturgical commentary, Durand writes that

“In some places, after the Creed is sung or while it is sung, the people sing: ‘Kyrie

eleison,’ because after Christ and the Apostles taught the faithful, having received the

8 Durand 4.25.13 (Thibodeau, 222). 9 Durand 4.25.13 (Thibodeau, 223). Furthermore, John the Baptist was “sent from God,” (missus a Deo, John 1:16), the same word used for Apostles, and he was the first to perform baptisms, and baptisms are mentioned in the Creed.

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faith, they offered praises to God, which, perhaps, the very sweet melody of the Creed

represents.” 10

Durand interprets another layer of spiritual meaning in regard to the singing and

relates a curious practice in the singing of the Creed in the papal liturgy. Assuming what

would now probably be called a supercessionist theological viewpoint, he treats the

clergy and altar servers as representing the Jews in the gospel, whereas the choir (and

assumedly other laity) represent the gentiles. Thus, referring to Jesus’ statement in

Matthew 10:5, “Do not go in the direction of the Gentiles,” Durand writes that the choir

does not sing the Creed at a Papal mass. Instead, the Creed is sung by the subdeacons,

representing the Jews. The choir and lay faithful can rejoin in the responses only after

“Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum,” which represents the moment of Resurrection, and

thus symbolizes the extension of the gospel beyond the Jews to the gentiles.11

There is no other record of this musical practice in the 13th century. At a non-

papal mass, following the reading of the gospel “the choir sings the Creed, because

between the passion and its preaching, the Gentiles sang, offering a vow of faith to

God.” Understanding the choir representing the gentiles, Durand appeals to the story in

Matthew 15 of the Canaanite woman whose faith was commended by Jesus.

10 Durand 4.25.14 (Thibodeau, 224). 11 Ibid.

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Durand’s normal mode is to illustrate aspects of the mass with scriptural basis

and to give a mystical interpretation of what is occurring at each moment of worship.

The essential mode of this commentary is called “mystagogy,” defined by Enrico Mazza

as “the oral or written explanation of the mystery hidden in the Scriptures and

celebrated in the liturgy.”12 This style of interpretation was the normative mode of

understanding of explaining the liturgy of the Catholic Church for centuries, dating to

the fourth-century Greek church fathers and extending at least to the Council of Trent.

For Durand there is no concern that the interpretation he offers might not be authentic;

rather, he is expositing the nature of the liturgy as it was composed and as it is

understood by Catholic Christians.

Durand ends by explaining “how the Apostles’ Creed, like a compendium,

briefly contains everything.” For example, the first phrase, “I believe in God, the Father

Almighty,” offers both an exposition on the nature of belief and the hierarchy of the

trinity, with “Father” and “Almighty” referring to the essence and substance of the

divinity, respectively.13 Durand’s explanation of each phrase of the Apostles’ Creed is

primarily a recounting of the scriptural text which supports the statement. For example,

in explaining “From there He will come to judge the living and the dead,” Durand

proceeds to call this one of the “signs” (sacramenta) of Christ. “He shall come manifestly

12 Enrico Mazza, Mystagogy: A Theology of Liturgy in the Patristic Age, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell (New York: Pueblo, 1989), 2. 13 Durand 4.25.16 (Thibodeau, 226).

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as a King, to whom the Father has given judgment, and just as David says: ‘He has

prepared His throne in judgment: and He shall judge the world in equity, He shall judge

the people in justice’ (Psalm 9:8–9); and in another place: ‘God shall come manifestly:

our God shall come, and shall not keep silence’ (Ps 49:3); and Luke: ‘He shall so come as

you have seen Him going into heaven’ (Acts 1:11); and Micah: ‘The Lord will enter into

judgment with His people’ (Mic 6:2).”14

One liturgical point of interest described by the three writers that did not survive

to the present is the reference to a dance during the Creed, a tripudium. Durand writes,

“To avoid having that celestial musician [i.e., Christ] say: We sang you a tune and you did

not dance (Lk 7:32), the chorus responds in one harmonious voice of evangelical teaching,

and professes the Catholic faith with solemn dancing, saying “Father,” etc., while in a

papal Mass, there are sometimes other observances, as will soon be observed.”15 The

three commentators quote the same text from Luke, that such joy and dance is required

for the Creed lest they receive the dominical censure. They specifically use the term

tripudium, a term which Constance J. Mews demonstrates has resonance with both

classical and patristic Latin authors. Jerome and Ambrose both used the term in their

commentaries on books of the Bible, though the “three-step” only appears in Jerome’s

Vulgate once.16 Mews concludes that the ritual dance described here (and there are

14 Durand 4.25.23 (Thibodeau, 229). 15 Durand, 4.25.3 (Thibodeau, 217). 16 Constant J. Mews, “Liturgists and Dance in the Twelfth Century: The Witness of John Beleth and Sicard of

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others mentioned in these commentaries at different points in the liturgy) were pagan

agricultural traditions that were Christianized and survived. The tripudium in particular

was a dance for men only and, at least in its 17th-century form, involved a row of men

taking three steps forward and one back, processing behind the altar, and carrying

portraits of the twelve apostles.17 It is difficult to imagine a rhythmic dance to a

plainchant like the Credo I, even in its later rhythmic variants as analyzed in Chapter

Three. It is possible that the three commentators are borrowing from each other,

following one claim that the recitation of the Creed was “like a dance.” But it is also

possible, because of the consistent use of the word tripudium, that there is some ancient

custom attested to that fell out of favor with liturgical reforms in later centuries.

Durand’s exposition of the creed in the context of the mass offers a devotional

tone. His primary concern is interpreting the actions of the mass surrounding the Creed

as a commemoration of the history of the church and life of Christ, which is why he

often buttresses his allegorical interpretations with quotations from the gospels.

6.2 Evolution of the Mass Ordinary Cycles

In this section I detail the coalescence of mass ordinary movements into so-called

“plainchant cycles” or formularies. A series of reforms in the 13th century led by

Cremona,” Church History 78 (2009):512–548, at 522–525. The sole usage in the Vulgate is Esther 8:16, translated in the Douay-Rheims version as “dancing.” 17 Mews, 547.

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mendicant liturgists solidified the medieval tradition of associating mass ordinary

chants with particular feast days. In other words, this reform process extended the

celebration of the proper feast day to the ordinary chants. These “plainchant cycles,”

however, consisted of only four movements and omitted the Credo because of the

paucity of musical choices for the Credo. The 13th-century ordinary organization I

explain here provides the liturgical background for rubrics that are given to newly-

composed monophonic Credos in the 14th and 15th centuries. The compilers of those later

chant books extended the impulse of the 13th-century reformers to the Credo, attaching

different Credo melodies with different feast days.

First, I examine the rise of ordinary chants in the context of the disappearance of

troping in the 12th century; as troping fell out of popularity as a liturgical ornament,

musicians and liturgists turned to the ordinary chants themselves as a way of extending

a sanctoral commemoration. Second, I detail the liturgical reforms of the mendicant

orders in the 13th century. The books compiled in the wake of these reforms are the first

to preserve “plainchant cycles,” associating one group of ordinary chants with particular

festal rubrics. Finally, I examine the new organization of the Kyriale, which emerged as

a self-standing book out of these reforms, particularly looking at the earliest example of

the “cyclic” Kyriale, the 13th-century Santa Sabina gradual.

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6.2.1 Disappearance of Troping and the Rise of the Ordinary

As tropes declined as a popular liturgical genre in the later middle ages,

musicians looked for other methods to connect the movements of the mass ordinary to

the festal celebration of the day. One example of a new method was the rise of the

sequence, which Margot Fassler links to the decline of troping as a tool for

embellishment.18 Geoffrey Chew similarly proposes a connection between the decline of

tropes and the use of cantus fermi in polyphonic masses; he writes, “With the decline and

eventual disappearance of tropes the musical link became stronger, and I believe that it

is in this light that the use of canti fermi [sic] is to be seen: they are in effect, at least in the

earliest period of their use, substitutes for tropes, and their use, consequently, like that of

tropes, tends to blur the distinction between Ordinary and Proper even though no text

foreign to the Ordinary may be sung in them.”19 Indeed the full flowering of this musical

unity of the ordinary was the displacement of the text of the propers as a musical focus,

replaced by a focus on the ordinary chants for mass. John Harper observes that the unity

of musical concepts and materials is endemic both to polyphonic cyclic masses and

plainsong masses.20

18 Margot Fassler, “The Disappearance of the Proper Tropes and the Rise of the Late Sequence: New Evidence from Chartres,” in Cantus Planus: Papers Read at the Fourth Meeting, Pécs, Hungary, 3–8 September 1990, ed. Laszlo Dobszay (Budapest: Hungary Academy of Sciences, Institute for Musicology, 1992), 319-335. 19 Chew, “The Early Cyclic Mass as an Expression of Royal and Papal Supremacy,” Music & Letters 53(1972):254–269, at 255. 20 John Harper, The Forms and Orders of Western Liturgy from the Tenth to the Eighteenth Century: A Historical Introduction and Guide for Students and Musicians (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 162–63.

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The disappearance of troping as a common technique is associated with the rise

of the mass ordinary cycle in the 13th century. Peter Wagner observed that the trope

originally filled a gap in the liturgical connection of the ordinary with the festal day; this

eventually led to the domination of mass ordinary chants by troped melodies:

The 10th century opens the Age of the Trope, that liturgical direction which aimed at filling the gaps in the sung mass with textual and melodic insertions. The Trope Movement gave a great boost to the composition of new kyrie etc.; many of them have been handed down only troped at first, by dissolving all their tonal figures into syllabic melody or by inserting new text between their individual movements with their own singing style, as was usual for the kyrie or gloria. Recently, the Kyrie's singing melodies etc. have been named after their troped texts, according to the Vatican Gradual.21

Yet by the 12th century tropes were falling out of favor, especially because of pressure

from conservative orders like the Cluniacs, Cistercians, and Augustinians, who strove

for a liturgical purity.22

Medieval liturgical musicians had an impulse to extend the celebration of

particular feasts beyond the music and text of the propers to other liturgical and musical

21 Wagner, Einführung in die Gregorianischen Melodien, vol. 3 (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1921), 436. “Das 10. Jahrhundert eröffnet das Zeitalter der Tropen, jener liturgischen Richtung, welche darauf hinauslief, die Lücken der gesungenen Messe mit textlichen und melodischen Einschaltungen auszufüllen. Die Tropenbewegung verhalf der Komposition neuer Kyrie usw. zu großem Aufschwung; viele sind überhaupt zuerst nur tropiert überliefert, indem alle ihre Tonfiguren in syllabische Melodik aufgelöst oder auch zwischen ihre einzelnen Sätze neuer Text mit eigener Singweise eingelassen wurde, wie er für die Kyrie bzw. Gloria üblich war. Nicht mit nrecht benennt man neuerdings die Singweisen des Kyrie usw. nach ihren Tropentexten, so das Graduale Vaticanum.” 22 See Alejandro Enrique Planchart, “Trope,” in Grove Music Online.

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aspects of the feast day. Pierre Marie Gy points to the nascent “spirit of the liturgy in the

West,” coalescing around the argument about tropes. The practice of troping grew out of

the Cluniac reforms of the early 10th century, and were conceived with the impulse of

expanding the ceremony of the mass (and, less frequently, of the office).23 Gy argues that

troping is actually an extension of the patristic practice of typological reading of

scripture: by applying a specific passage from the Old Testament to an understanding of

Christ’s presence in the New Testament, early Christian writers saw all of scripture as a

combined whole pointing to Christ. Christ’s presence in the Old Testament is

anticipated in terms of “types,” thus giving the name “typology.” In Gy’s view, the

practice of troping extends the typological reading by further commenting on the

relation of the Old Testament to the specific liturgical celebration at hand.24 Bruno

Stäblein goes further than Gy, arguing that the trope solved two issues at the same time,

educating listeners on the “temporally and geographically distant world” of the Old

Testament and simultaneously providing a way to better make sense of the Gregorian

melismas.25

23 Cf. Hiley, Western Plainchant, 197. Pierre Marie Gy, “Les tropes dans l’histoire de la liturgie et de la théologie,” in Research on Tropes: Proceedings of a Symposium Organized by the Royal Academy of Literature, History, and Antiquities and the Corpus Troporum, Stockholm, June 1–3, 1981, ed. Gunilla Iversen (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1983), 7–16, at 10-11. 24 Gy, 12. 25 Bruno Stäblein, “Tropus,” MGG Online.

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Gy also argues that the tropes change the focus from declamation of the word to

praise and contemplation. He writes that the “liturgy of the Word”—the first part of the

mass including the readings—was brought into the contemplative frame of the “liturgy

of the eucharist,” the second part of the mass including the consecration and distribution

of communion.26 Such a flexibility with the contours of the mass—not only within its

hymnody but within the structure and theological designations of its component parts—

is a hallmark of medieval Catholic liturgy. Gy identifies this as the “spirit of the liturgy

in the West”—this combination of Gregorian centralization and an emphasis on fidelity

to the Roman liturgy as it was received.

It is unclear whether those tropes for ordinary movements postdate the older

ordinary music or whether the trope-ordinary combination was an original

composition.27 It is possible that many of the ordinary chants with troped titles in

modern graduals were composed specifically to accommodate those troped texts.

Stäblein asserts that there is a connection between the troped mass ordinary

movements—specifically troped Kyries—and the earliest polyphonic ordinary settings;

while some of them survived with the troped words intact, the numerical

preponderance of troped kyries, with and without the troped texts, and their newer

26 Gy, 15. 27 Hiley, Western Plainchant, 211.

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melody style, led to a greater number of polyphonic Kyries based on their troped

forebears.28

In any event, troping developed as a tool to associate ordinary chants with the

festal celebration of the day. As troping died out as a method of highlighting these festal

associations, organizations of ordinary movements in festal-associated groups became

normative. The motivating force in promoting a new organization of ordinary chants in

the 13th century were mendicant liturgical reforms.

6.2.2 Liturgical Reforms of the Mendicants

Scholars have long noted the influence of the 13th-century mendicant movements

on the codification of liturgy: the Dominicans and, especially, the Franciscans developed

notations and rubrics which standardized the liturgy in most chant books.29 The Kyriale

as a self-standing book grew out of these reforms. While the mass movements of these

new Kyriales did not share musical material, they were organized in a new way and

shared rubrical and festal denotations. In this section I investigate the historical

background of these early chant ordinary cycles, showing how this new organization

28 Stäblein: “Das numerische Übergewicht der tropierten Kyrie von der übrigen Ordinariumsgesänge wirkt sich bis in die mehrstimigen Ordinariumskompositionen des 14. Jh. Aus.” MGG Online, “tropus”. It is important to note that Planchart divides “tropes,” which is a general and sometimes imprecise term, into two periods, with the second period (after the Cluniac and Cistercian responses) focusing on mass ordinary tropes; Kyrie tropes, falling in the second period, are not tropes in the strict sense but mostly prosulae, or text additions. “The distinction is important because most of the medieval Kyries that survive seem to have begun not as melismatic Kyries nor yet as tropes but as elaborate compositions where Latin invocations preceded (or followed) the melismatic ones.” Planchart, “Trope,” Grove Music Online. 29 Cf. David Hiley, Western Plainchant, 611–13; Kirkman, The Cultural Life of the Early Polyphonic Mass, 170–76.

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brought together chants which did not have a previous association with each other. Yet

these new cycles omitted the Credo and consisted of only four movements, because of

the paucity of musical choices for the Credo.

Andrew Kirkman observes that the goal of liturgical unity had one of its first

flowerings in the Cistercian movement of the 12th century. The Charter of the Cistercians

states:

And because we receive all monks coming from other monasteries into ours, and they in like manner receive ours, it seems proper to us, that all our monasteries should have the same usages in chanting, and the same books for the divine office day and night and the celebration of the holy sacrifice of the Mass, as we have in the New Monastery [i.e., Cîteaux]; that there may be no discord in our daily actions, but that we may all live together in the bond of charity under one rule, and in the practice of the same observances.30

The Cistercians attempted to enforce liturgical uniformity across their hundreds of

dependent houses, providing a model for later liturgical reforms in the Catholic church.

Another consequential liturgical reform occurred under the auspices of the mendicant

orders in the 13th century. The Franciscan and Dominican orders were engaged in a sort

of rubrical competition, each attempting to preserve and propagate its own rite.

Franciscan missionaries transmitted their office across Europe, and its relative simplicity

30 Archdale A. King, Liturgies of the Religious Orders (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1955), 68. Quoted in Kirkman, 326, n.9.

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proved attractive for clergy and laypeople. William Bonniwell states that “comparisons

with other breviaries (including the Dominican) were inevitable,” and the Dominicans

sought to improve their liturgy as a matter of competition. A Dominican pronouncement

from 1244 ordered all Dominican provinces to bring their liturgical books to the general

meeting to eliminate differences and institute a liturgical reform.31

One result of the Mendicant feud was a confluence of interests between the Papal

curia and the Franciscan liturgical reforms. The modifications of the Franciscan liturgy

were in optimum agreement with the aims of the Papal curia at the time: while the friars

desired an easily-modifiable service which could suit their itinerant preachers, non-

mendicant parish clergy quickly took up a service order which was more easily

comprehended and flexible. Andrew Kirkman writes that “the remarkable success of

Haymo’s [the lead Franciscan reformer] codification derived neither from a perceived

authority of the curial liturgy, nor from that of Franciscan practice per se, but rather from

the clarity of its presentation, and hence the easy comprehension it offered to celebrating

clergy.”32

Indeed, Haymo of Faversham, the Franciscan who initiated his order’s reforms,

provided more than sixty different votive masses in his ordinals of the 1240s.33 The

31 William R. Bonniwell, A History of the Dominican Liturgy 1215–1945 (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1945), 76–77. 32 Kirkman, 171. 33 Sources of the modern Roman liturgy; the ordinals by Haymo of Faversham and related documents (1243-1307), ed. S.J.P. Van Dijk (London: Brill, 1963), 318–27. In fact, for private devotional masses, the propers were freely

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Mendicant reforms assumed an inherent flexibility in the mass, and Haymo provided

different instructions for private masses. For each mass Haymo gives the incipits of three

prayers—the opening collect (“oratio”), the secret prayer at the canon of the eucharist

(“secreta”), and the prayer after communion (“postcommunio”). For some masses he

provides greater specificity. For example, for a mass commemorating the cross:

Missa in honore sancta crucis. Intr. Nos autem gloriari … Ps. Deus misereatur nostri … Oratio. Deus qui unigeniti tui ~ Per. [epistola] Ad phylippenses. Fratres. Christus factus est. ~ in Gloria est Dei patris. Grad. Christus factus est … ℣ Dicite in gentibus … [euangelium] secundum matheum. In illo tempore. Assumpsit iesus duodecim discipulos suos secreto ~ Et tertia die resurgat. Offert. Protégé domine plebem … Secr. Hec oblatio nos quesumus ~ Per. Com. Per signum crucis … Postcom. Adesto nobis domine ~ Per.

Mass in honor of the holy cross. Introit: Nos autem gloriari.34 Introit verse: Deus misereatur nostri [Psalm 66:2] … Collect. Deus qui unigeniti tui.35 ~ for the epistle, Philippians [2:5–11]. Brethren: Christ was made… to the glory of God the Father.36 Gradual: Christus factus est. ℣ Dicite in gentibus. [Psalm 95:10].37 … [gospel] according to Matthew. At that time. And on the third day rise. [Matthew 20:17–19].38 Offertory. Protégé domine plebem [tuam].39 Secret prayer. Hec oblatio nos quesumus.40 For Communion. Per signum crucis.41 Postcommunion. Adesto nobis domine.42

selectable from among a set of formulas. Kirkman sees this flexibility for private masses as presaging the later festal distinguishing markers of the cantus firmus in the polyphonic mass; that is, the license to choose liturgical items to suit one’s private purpose (rather than to follow the liturgical order from a rulebook) was a step in the direction of personal devotions and liturgical choices which enabled cantus firmus polyphonic masses to flourish. See Kirkman, 171. 34 Introit of Maundy Thursday and Exaltation of the Holy Cross, LU 1454. 35 The modern Liber Usualis gives a different collect: “Deus, qui in praeclara salutiferae Crucis Inventione…” 1455. 36 The pericope in both the Liber Usualis (593) and the Vulgate has a different incipit. 37 LU (669) gives a different verse for this gradual: “Propter quod et Deus exaltavit illum…” 38 LU (1456) gives a different pericope for the feast of the cross (John 3:1–15) 39 Offertory for September 14, LU 1630. 40 Different secret given in LU (1457) 41 LU 1457. 42 LU 1630, for September 14.

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In Haymo’s ordinal instructions, these changeable parts can be substituted in for any

feast of the cross. As Kirkman avers, “Another reason for its [i.e., the Mendicant

liturgical practices] popularity may have been its inherent flexibility, and in particular

the opportunities for individuation offered by its stipulations for private observances.”43

One legacy of these efforts of uniformity was a greater specificity in the

organization of the Kyriale.44 If liturgies were to follow the specificity of proper texts

given in the example above, musicians benefited from a similar clear organization for

the ordinary chants. In the wake of the Franciscan rubrical reforms, the Kyriale was

eventually pulled out as a separate group of chants. Kurt von Fischer bears witness to

this in a discussion of Mass ordinary manuscripts from the 13th and 14th centuries.

Ordinary cycles in the 13th and 14th centuries were included in larger choral manuscripts

of graduals and missals, usually at the end; in the 15th century they were compiled as

independent Kyriale manuscripts. Von Fischer points to Paris BN Itl. 568, compiled

around 1400, as one of the earliest independent Kyriale manuscripts.45 These self-

standing Kyriale manuscripts had their origins in these Franciscan reforms of the 13th

century.

43 Kirkman, 171. 44 A second important legacy was the standardization of the easier-to-read French-style chant notation, replacing the earlier Gothic notation. See Kirkman 171–172, and Michel Huglo, “Notated Performance Practices in Parisian Chant Manuscripts of the Thirteenth Century,” in Plainsong in the Age of Polyphony, ed. Thomas Forrest Kelly (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991): 32-44. 45 Kurt von Fischer, “Neue Quellen zum einstimmigen Ordinariumszyklus des 14. Und 15. Jahrhunderts aus Italien,” in Liber Amicorum Charles van den Borren (Anvers: Lloyd Anversois, 1964), 60–68, at 67–8.

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6.2.3 New Organization of the Kyriale

The Kyriales that emerged from the mendicant reforms revolutionized the

organization of ordinary chants by grouping them into “cycles” of Kyrie-Gloria-Sanctus-

Agnus chants. Older books organized these chants in groups—Kyries followed by

Glorias followed by Sanctus chants. The reformed graduals and Kyriales further

extended the celebration of a festal day by associating all of the ordinary chants with a

specific sanctoral commemoration as well.

What was the impetus for this new organization? As noted above, on the one

hand it coincided with the disappearance of troping as a method of connecting the

ordinary to the festal commemoration. The new organization is most effectively placed

within the devotional context of medieval Catholicism. Pierre Salmon notes the changes

of the office under the Franciscans and other mendicant orders. These changes altered

the nature of the Office liturgy. These substantial changes, including revising when

psalms were recited, which psalms, and adding occasional devotional offices like the

“Office of the Virgin” to the daily cursus, were made official by the Franciscans in 1251

and by the Dominicans in 1256.46 When offering a reason for these structural changes,

Salmon writes,

It is enough to enumerate them and add to them the lengthening of the lessons to see immediately that the goal was not the

46 On the Franciscans, see S.J.P. van Dijk and J.H. Walker, The Origins of the Modern Roman Liturgy: The Liturgy of the Papal Court and the Franciscan Order in the Thirteenth Century (Westminster, MD: Newman, 1960), 280–319. On the Dominicans, see Bonniwell, 83–97.

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abbreviation of the Office: on the contrary, it was considerably increased, even if it no longer reached the length it once had. The introduction into the Office of all these new elements is explained by an evolution of spirituality, by the development of the cult of the Blessed Virgin and the saints, of piety towards the dead, by the search for more living or devotional prayer formulas, which foster more personal piety.47

This was, he says, an organic liturgical change arising from renewals of devotional

postures. Salmon sees these 13th-century expansions, under the auspices of the

mendicant orders, as an “evolution of spirituality.”48

Leo Schrade sought in these earliest plainchant “cycles” a precursor to the

musical integration of the polyphonic cyclic mass. He points to the tradition of the

eucharistic celebrant’s private recitation of the public ordinary hymns as an antecedent

which prepared the way for the exalted status of the mass ordinary.49 An early visible

47 Pierre Salmon, L’Office Divin au Moyen Age Histoire de la Formation du Bréviaire du IXe au XVIe siècle (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1967), 168; Kirkman, 173. 48 Salmon, 166; cf. Kirkman, 173. Salmon writes, “Il suffit de les énumérer et d'y ajouter l'allongement des lecons pour voir immédiatement que le but recherché n'a pas été l'abréviation de l'office : celui-ci était, au contraire, considérablement augmenté, meme s'il n'atteignait plus la longueur qu'il avait eue autrefois. L'introduction dans l'office de tous ces éléments nouveaux s'explique par une évolution de la spiritualité, par le développement du culte de la Sainte Vierge et des saints, de la piété envers les morts, par la recherche de formules de prières plus vivantes ou dévotes, entretenant davantage la piété personnelle.” The nascent polyphonic mass of the 14th century, and its full flowering in the 15th, fit well into this epoch of pious devotionalism, despite changes in the official shape of the mass and office. 49 Leo Schrade, “News on the Chant Cycle of the Ordinarium Missae,” JAMS 8 (1955):66–69, at 68. See also Leo Schrade, “The Cycle of the Ordinarium Missae,” in In Memoriam Jacques Handschin, ed. Higinio Anglés (Argentorati: P.H. Heitz, 1962), 87–96; and James Monti, A Sense of the Sacred (San Francisco: Ignatius, 2012), 72: “The custom of having the priest always recite every word of the Mass from beginning to end not only at Low Mass but also at High Mass, requiring him to repeat to himself even the words assigned to others, such as the Introit sung by the choir and the Gospel chanted by the deacon, had begun to develop by the twelfth century. This practice can be understood as manifesting that the Mass in its entirety is celebrated and offered to God the Father by Christ himself through the priest acting in persona Christi. As for the often-repeated criticism that the medieval Church placed too exclusive an emphasis upon the unique role of the priest in the celebration of the sacred liturgy, it should be noted that this emphasis stems from the very nature of our redemption.”

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sign of this tradition is evident in the Lateran ordinal of 1140, edited and published by

Ludwig Fischer in 1916.50 Schrade shows evidence of several late-medieval manuscripts

which contain musically integrated plainchant ordinary cycles—particularly in the

manuscript Torino Ms. J.II.9 and in Toulouse Ms. 94, the source of the so-called Mass of

Toulouse.51 Both of these manuscripts are known for their polyphonic repertoire, but

also contain plainchant mass ordinary settings.52

Schrade’s argument for the origin of the “mass cycle” within these early

plainchant cycles has been greatly disputed. Bruno Stäblein, Dominique Catta, and

Richard Hoppin all argued against the idea that these plainchant cycles are in any way

connected to the 14th- and 15th-century phenomenon of the polyphonic cyclic mass.53

Hoppin is probably right in viewing these plainchant cycles as the earliest recorded

plainchant mass cycles which were composed as a unit and have some sort of musical

interconnection, though that connection is tenuous—it is modal and liturgical, not

melodic or motivic.54 Hoppin sees any semblance of unity within the earliest plainchant

“cycles” as random: “By their very nature the traditional plainchant Ordinaries can

50 Bernhardi Cardinalis et Lateranensis Ecclesiae Prioris: Ordo Officiorum Ecclesiae Lateranensis, ed. Ludwig Fischer. Historische Forschungen und Quellen, vols. 2 and 3 (München und Freising, Dr. F.P. Datterer, 1916). 51 Schrade, “News on the Chant Cycle,” 67. 52 See most recently Karl Kügle, “Glorious Sounds for a Holy Warrior: New Light on Codex Turin J.II.9,” JAMS 65 (2012):637–690. Kügle does not discuss the plainchant cycles in depth. 53 Dominique Catta, “Aux origines du Kyriale,” Revue Grégorienne 34 (1955):175–182; Bruno Stäblein, “Messe A. Die lat. Messe,” in MGG Bd. 9 (1949–1986), c.148–158; Richard Hoppin, “Reflections on the Origin of the Cyclic Mass,” in Liber Amicorum Charles van den Borren, 85–92. 54 Hoppin, 89.

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never be more than mere formulas, arbitrary and variable compilations of disparate

chants.”55

Regardless of the connection these plainchant cycles had to later polyphonic

cyclic masses, their appearance in the 13th century was indeed remarkable for clarifying

and solidifying a new method of organizing chants for the ordinary. The earliest

manuscripts containing a new organization scheme were compiled in the 12th century.

Dominique Catta points to two manuscripts which contain plainchant Kyrie-Gloria

pairings, followed by Sanctus-Agnus pairings.56 One of these manuscripts, Berlin Ms.

Lat. Qu. 664, is probably from the 12th or 13th century, while the other, the “Gradual of

the Thomaskirche,” (Leipzig 391) is 14th century.57 Catta, Schrade, and Stäblein observe

the advent of rubrics in the 13th and 14th centuries to organize the nascent ordinary

“cycles” or formularies (Stäblein’s preferred term), but the motivation of these rubrics is

unclear. In Catta’s view, the reason for the new ordinary organization is related to the

newness of the orders which made those liturgical changes:

But this disposition [i.e., that of the early rubric organization of ordinary movements], similar to that of our present Ordinary, is far from being the same everywhere. And this organization appears first of all in the Graduals of certain religious,

55 Hoppin, 87. 56 Catta, 176. 57 On the Berlin MS, see, Andreas Fingernagel, Die illuminierten lat. Handschriften deutscher Provenienz der Staatsbibliothek PK Berlin, 8.–12. Jahrhundert, (Weisbaden: Harrassowitz, 1991), Vol. 1, 137. The Thomaskirche Gradual was partially published in facsimile as Das Graduale der St. Thomaskirhce zu Leipzig (XIV. Jahrhundert) als Zeuge deutscher Choralüberlieferung (Hildesheim: Olms, 1967), which was a reprint of Peter Wagner’s facsimile edition of 1930.

256

Premonstratensian, Dominican and Franciscan Orders which, not having the liturgical traditions of the former Orders, organized Masses according to certain formulas. Finally, the generally recent books which have composed Masses give almost always the same melodies.58

Catta’s explanation does not appear to be accurate. Although the new orders exerted

influence in the flexibility of liturgical order, they did not completely invent a new rite

or liturgical tradition to fit their needs.

The paired ordinary collections noted above may have acted as some early

bridge to cyclic organization, but their organization remained regional. David Hiley

notes that northern French books from the 11th to 14th centuries would bookend a body

of proses with a collection of Kyries and Glorias before the proses and Sanctus and

Agnus chants after. German books from the 12th century organize groups of Kyrie-

Glorias and groups of Sanctus-Agnus chants.59 This paired organization eventually gave

way to the newer cyclic organization of the 13th century, though the French examples

show that the regional organizational structures endured for about a century after the

cyclic reorganization. Those early paired movements, however, forecast the organization

that became standardized in the 13th century, thus hinting that the later organization was

58 Catta, 176. “Mais cette disposition, semblable à celle de notre Ordinaire actuel, est loin d’être partout la même. Et cette organization apparaît d’abord dans les Graduels de certains Ordres religieux, prémontrés, dominicains, franciscains, qui, n’ayant pas les traditions liturgiques des anciens Ordres, organisèrent des Messes selon des formules déterminées. Enfin, les livres généralement récents qui ont des Messes composes donnent à peu près toujours les mêmes melodies.” 59 David Hiley, “Kyriale,” Grove Music Online.

257

building on existing traditions. One of the pairs of Berlin Lat. Qu. 664 anticipates Mass I

of the modern Vatican editions, and its three other pairs at least bear similar movements

(for example, “mixing” the modern Mass 3 Kyrie with the Mass 12 Gloria, and Kyrie 4

with Gloria 3). Two other early manuscripts (both 13th-century) provide similar pairs as

well.60

The Santa Sabina gradual, as mentioned, was among the earliest of the 13th-

century reformed chant books with the new cyclic organization. Though not in complete

concord with the modern Vatican edition, the six masses of the Santa Sabina gradual are

probably the first attempt to organize mass ordinary “cycles” by rubric. Of course,

within the gradual, the masses are not numbered. The following table lists the masses

and their concordance with the ordinary masses of the modern Liber Usualis.61

Table 8: Mass Ordinary Cycles in the Santa Sabina Gradual

Mass within Santa Sabina

Folio in Santa Sabina

rubric Kyrie concordance to modern edition

Gloria Credo Sanctus Agnus

1 361v [BVM]62 9 9 none 2 9 2 362r In toto duplia

et duplia 4 4 1 4 4

3 362v In festis semiduplicibus

14 2 none 17 2

60 Trèves 2254 and Lainz VIII. 61 Liber Usualis, 16–63; Missa pro defunctis in LU 1807–1815. 62 The mass ordinary of this first mass follows from the office for the Virgin, so the mass itself is not given any introductory rubric.

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4 363r In Dominicis et festis simplicibus

12 11 none 15 15

5 363r In missa matutitanlibus et missa octavis

16 15 none 15 15

6 363v In profestis diebus

n/a none none 18 18

The only other 13th-century manuscript with a comparable number of mass ordinary

cycles rubrically arranged is Bari 7, a liturgical calendar from Paris dated to 1220 by

Barbara Haggh-Huglo.63 According to Catta’s tables, the Bari manuscript contains 15

ordinary cycles. Nevertheless, the Santa Sabina gradual is significant for its early and

authoritative collation of mass cycles.

As indicated in the table, these Mass cycles were arranged by feast day, much as

in the modern-day Vatican edition and Liber Usualis, and the festal association most

often arose from the tropes of that chant, which probably had not been preserved along

with the melody. This new organization of mass ordinary cycles standardized much of

Catholic liturgy, as seen by the high degree of concordance with modern editions.64

Furthermore, the Credo was thereafter regularly included, even if it was as an appendix

63 Bari, Archivio della Chiesa di San Nicolao, Ms. 7; cf. Barbara Haggh and Michel Huglo, “Magnus liber: Maius munus. Origine et destinée du manuscript F,” Revue de Musicologie, T. 90 (2004), 193–230, at 216. See also Barbara Haggh–Huglo’s presentation for the Ghent Autumn School 2014 on medieval chant and liturgy, available at <drum.lib.umd.edu>, 118. 64 Catta’s table, on 177, lists seven mass cycles which became “standardized.”

259

to the main body of KGSA cycles. As noted in Chapter Three, Credo I is unambiguously

notated in chantbooks beginning in the 13th century. Although the earliest source, Reims

264, is a gradual for a parish church of St Thierry, it is possible that Credo I gained status

as the “standard” Credo variant because of the revised chant books propagated by the

mendicants.65 The square-note notation favored by the Franciscans and Dominicans also

would have aided in notating and disseminating the Credo I chant clearly.

6.3 Rubrics and the Credo

The Franciscan and Dominican books which organized the earliest cycles

described those cycles by liturgical function. In this section, I describe how those same

organizational principles were applied to Credo melodies in chant books in the 14th and

15th centuries. Liturgically and rubrically, the typification of Credo melodies in 14th-

century chant books continued the process of “paring down and rationalization of the

standard components of the liturgy.”66 These Credo melodies thus become a further

object of liturgical emphasis, and this change in the mass ordinary helps to set the stage

for the polyphonic cycles of the 15th century.

The earliest instances of the new canto fratto Credos—starting in the early 14th

century—extend the impulse of the Dominicans to associate ordinary chants with

65 See Anne Walters Robertson, “The Mass of Guillaume de Machaut in the Cathedral of Reims,” in Plainsong in the Age of Polyphony, 100–139, at 138. 66 Kirkman, 173.

260

specific feast days. By the 15th century, various Credos were given festal associations

and rubrics, such as the Credo Apostolorum and Credos associated with feasts of Mary.

A number of early manuscripts clearly give rubric or title indications for the new

canto fratto Credos therein.

Table 9: Rubrics for Monophonic Credos

Miazga number

Rubric Manuscript Folio Date Order or Provenance

32 Feria secunda aliud

St Gall 546 27v 1507

32 Symbolum. BSB Clm.9508 285v 1452 33 Breve dota

alias St Gall 546 27r 1507

34 Symbolum. BSB Clm.9508 283v 1452 84 Feria festia

aliud bonum; pulchrum aliud breve

St Gall 546 27v 1507

113 De B.V.M. Fribourg F3 323r 14th Franciscan? 113 Item collemp. BSB Clm.9508 284v 1452 113 Ad natum de

festi; aliud consuetum valde

St Gall 546 20v 1507

113 Aliud patrem cxiii

Erlangen 464 27r (22r new)

15th

123 Aliud novum nt (?) St Gall 546 25v 1507

123 marginal note "aliud patrem" Erlangen 464

41v (new 30v) 15th

194 hispanos Pistoia B.8 54r 15th

194 Credo quinti toni Arezzo D Pieve 14v

later addition to a 13th-c. MS

Parish of Santa Maria, Arezzo

261

232

aliud pulchrum ad beneplacitum St Gall 546 21r 1507

238 De Dominica Perugia San Pietro B a.f.

1491–1510 (Baroffio)

250

aliud pulchrum ad nutum (?) St Gall 546 22r 1507

252 S. Spiritus Perugia San Pietro B 187r (?)

1491–1510 (Baroffio)

279 "Cardinalium" Bologna Museo Civico lit. 12 32r 15th

279

"In Dominicis Diebus; Vulgo Bianco (?)"

Bologna Museo Medievale 537 113r 14th

Olivetan

279 "In duplicibus maioribus"

Bologna University 2893 431r

14th (Baroffio)

Franciscan

279 Credo sollemnis

Perugia San Pietro B 44r

1491–1510

279 In mags~ festivita

Rome BAV Lat. 9214 95r 15th

Dominican

279 In maioribus duplicibus

Rome Biblioteca Nazionale Farf. 33

170v (new foliation) 1514

Benedictine

279 Credo maior Arezzo D Pieve 5r

13th c; later addition

Parish

279 Solemne Modena Lat. 1009 37v 14th-15th

Olivetan

319 "Apostolorum" Bologna Museo Civico lit. 12 35r 15th

319

"in communi apostolorum of." (preceding page) Lucca 2645 163r

15th-16th (14th?)

Dominican

319

Credo in festis apostolis et evangelistis

Perugia San Pietro B 48v 15th

262

319

de apostolis in dom(inibus? — at end) Pistoia B.8 53v 15th?

319

P(ro) Apostolis in duplicibus minoribus

Modena Lat. 1009 42r 14th-15th

Olivetan

319 In festis duplicibus Arezzo Cesa 1 103v

13th c.; later addition

Parish (?)

319 Credo apostolorum Arezzo D Pieve 8r

Parish

339

Se. Jacobi petamum (?) pulchrum feria quarta (?) St Gall 546 28r 1507

450 "Item coll.e" (?) BSB Clm. 9508 286v 1452 Benedictine

503 "Supra laudib'cives"

Perugia San Pietro B 197r 15th

512 "dup" darkly written Fribourg F3 325r 14th

Franciscan?

512

Aliud bonum breve palys (?) Sabbatis St Gall 546 29r 1507

518 "Scapino" Bologna 537 119r Olivetan

531 "quartum (?) Patrem) BSB 23286 38r 15th

(Moosburg Abbey)

531

Aliud pulchrum. Feria sexta. St Gall 546 29r 1507

549

Aliud bonum pro situm (?) a festem Jacobo Schupff (?) guetuale (?) S Galle g(?)enoby (?) St Gall 546 23v 1507

263

591 aliud; aliud quando vis (?) St Gall 546 23r 1507

603 Aliud notum ex ungria St Gall 546 24v 1507

615 "quintum patrem" BSB 23286 39r 15th

628 Aliud feria quinta (?) St Gall 546 28v 1507

628

no; marginal note "aliud patrem" Erlangen 464

34v (new 28v) 15th

319 (fragment) De apostolis Arezzo E 139r ?

Credo I "In Dominica" Bologna Museo Civico lit. 12 28v 15th

Credo I Dominicale

Rome Biblioteca Angelica 1424 (olim T.7.11)/Graduale di Bamberg 108r 14th

Credo I Dominicale, aliud usuale St Gall 546 19v 1507

Credo I In dominicis diebus Moden Lat. 1009 46r 14th-15th

Olivetan

Credo I Symbolum Cividale 56 245v ? Duomo di Cividale

Credo I

no ("Hic cantent omnium" written in at "Et incarnatus") BSB 23027 170r 15th

Credo I Simbolum fidei Lucca 1465 90v 15th

Credo I?

long rubric, difficult to read; "Dominicale"? St Gall 546 19r ~1507

264

This table indicates that, unsurprisingly, the most commonly rubricked Credos are 279

(Cardinalis) and 319 (Apostolis/Regis)—also the two most popular Credos in the

manuscripts. Furthermore, while the impulse of rubricking Credos is certainly

persistent, it appears to become most prevalent in the 15th century, and even then it is

not consistent.

6.3.1 Bologna Lit. 12

The manuscript Bologna Lit.12 serves as a convenient emblem of the developing

liturgical significance of the monophonic Credos.67 A 15th-century cantorinus, it is a

collection of chants for the mass and office. The codex’s beginning is ordered according

to the liturgical year—Christmas and related feast days taking up the first two fascicles.68

The third and fourth fascicles contain four plainchant mass ordinary “cycles,” omitting

the Credo (i.e., Kyrie-Gloria-Sanctus-Agnus cycles). Each cycle features rubrics denoting

liturgical usage, and the rubrics are consistent both with earlier plainchant cycles from

the 14th century and with the cycles in the current Vatican Edition.

Table 10: Ordinary Cycles in Bologna Lit. 12 (no Credos)

Folios Rubric in MS

Kyrie (modern edition)

Gloria Sanctus Agnus LU rubric Kyrie trope

13r–16r

In Missis Minoribus Duplic.

4 4 4 4 For feasts of the II Class I

Cunctipotens genitor deus

67 The manuscript is viewable online at <http://www.internetculturale.it/> 68 The second fascicle (f.8r–11v) does contain a Credo unicum (Miazga No. 11) in a different hand.

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16v–19v

In Dominicis Diebus

11 11 11 11 For Sundays throughout the year

Kyrie Orbis Factor

20r–24r

Missa Beate Virginis

9 9 9 17 Missa Beata Virginis

Cum jubilo

25r–28v

In missis votivis et simpl.

12 n/a 12 14 For Feasts of the III Class I

Pater cuncta

This table displays the chant cycles and concordances of Bologna Lit. 12. This

arrangement is by no means unusual among 15th-century manuscripts; many codices

with mass chants contain these four mass cycles as an offering of music for the whole

church year— Sundays, major feasts, minor feasts, and Marian feasts.

The interesting feature of this manuscript, however, is that, beginning in the

same fascicle, it arranges a series of monophonic Credos after the KGSA cycles with a

similar set of rubrics in mind.

Table 11: Credos and Rubrics in Bologna Lit. 12

Folios Miazga Number Rubric 28v—31v Credo I In Dominica 32r—34v 279 Cardinalium 35r—38v 319 Apostolorum

These are in addition to the Miazga 11 stray Credo on f.8r–11v. The rhythm of the Credo

I on f.28v is not identical with other rhythmicized Credo I chants, appearing to be

unique in its rhythm.

266

By the time this manuscript was compiled, the Ordinary “KGSA” plainchant

cycles were set in their rubrics; Bologna Lit.12 brings clarity to the liturgical situation of

the Credos by organizing them in a manner similar to that of the Ordinary cycles,

though admittedly without as much precision as the four KGSA masses. This

manuscript offers a glimpse into the liturgical function of these melodies, suggesting a

way of approaching the analysis of liturgical function in a highly varied landscape of

Credo practice in the 15th century. As new compositions of the Credo proliferated, their

liturgical associations were unstable; whereas the association of the mass Ordinary

“KGSA” cycles with certain ranks of feasts was established by the 14th century, the

relative novelty and profusion of the new Credo melodies led to an order not quite as

clear, a situation observable in other manuscripts of the 14th and 15th centuries. The

organization of MS Bologna Lit.12 suggests that there was attempted or inchoate clarity

about how these Credos were used.

As shown in the following table, at least 23 manuscripts contain these “groups”

of Credos, many of these in a relative position to a group of KGSA cycles. Dating these

manuscripts precisely is difficult, but the trend toward grouping Credos similar to

grouping KGSA cycles is evident beginning in the 14th century. Table 12 shows some

representative manuscripts which have some sort of relation between a Credo and an

ordinary set.

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Table 12: Manuscripts Containing Ordinary “Cycles” and Credos

Manuscript Date Order or Provenance

No. of Credos in MS

Credo rubrics Mass Ordinary contents

Barcelona 911

15th n/a 2 None 7 S with rubrics; 9 A with rubrics

Barcelona 1325

16th n/a 1 None KGSA x2, with rubrics

Bologna Lit.12

15th n/a 3 “In dominica”; “Cardinalium”; “Apostolorum”

KGSA x4 with rubrics

Bologna Museo Medievale 614

15th Dominican 1 None G (incomplete)

Munich BSB Clm. 4013

15th St Emmeram 2 None KGSA x9, with rubrics; SA x14, with rubrics

Munich BSB Clm. 23286

15th n/a 5 None K x2 KG x10, with rubrics SA x20, with rubrics

Munich BSB Clm. 9508

1452 n/a 4 None KG x10, with rubrics SA x15, with rubrics

Munch BSB Clm. 23027

15th n/a 2 None KGSA x10, with rubrics (some cycles missing different movements)

268

Cividale 35bis

14th–15th Cividale 1 None KG x12, with rubrics S x5 A x5

Cividale 79 15th Aquileian 3 None K, G Erlangen 464

15th n/a 4 Marginal notes pointing folia of other Credos

KG x1, with rubrics K x1 SA x7, with rubrics

Fribourg F3 14th n/a 4 None K x2 KG x1 with rubrics Gx2, with rubrics

London 24687

15th n/a 1 None A x2, with rubrics (limited images)

Lucca 1061 1391–1410 n/a 1 None K x1 GA x1

Lucca 1465 15th n/a 1 None KG with rubrics GSA C

Lucca 2645 15th Dominican 2 In co. apostolorum of.

KGSA x2

Lucca 2690 14th Carmelite 1 None KGSA x4, with rubrics K x1, with rubrics

269

Perugia Archivio Capitolare 16

13th–14th Franciscan 2 None KGSA x11, with rubrics (missing various movements)

Perugia San Pietro B

15th n/a 6 “De Dominica,” “Sollemnes,” “Credo in festis apostolis et evangelistas”

KGSA x16 with rubrics (missing various movements)

Pisa s.s. 6 16th n/a 2 None GSA x1 KG x1, rubrics G x1

Pistoia 100 1326–1350 Church of San Pietro, Pistoia

1 None KGSA x10, rubrics (missing various movements)

Pistoia 486/100

1391–1400; Ordinary section later (17th?)

Collegial Church of San Giovanni Forcivitas, Pistoia

3 None KGSA x1 with rubrics

Pistoia B.8 15th n/a 6 De apostolis, hispanos, in dominibus

KGSA x12, rubrics SA x2, rubrics S x1, rubrics

Rome Angelica 1424

14th n/a 3 None KG x12, rubrics SA x7, rubrics

270

Rome BAV Barb. Lat.65

1351–1375 South Italy 3 None KGSA x5, rubrics SA x1 Kx1

Rome BAV Lat.9214

16th Dominican 1 None K, rubrics and tropes

Rome BAV Lat.10654

14th n/a 1 None SA x1, rubrics G x1

Rome BAV Lat. 10769

14th Dominican 1 None K

Rome Bib. Nazionale Mss. Varia 290

1391–1400 Franciscan 1 None KGSA x11, rubrics (missing various movements)

Siena H.I.10 15th n/a 3 None KGSA x10, rubrics (missing various movements)

Vienna 15501

1509–1516 Kuttenberg 6 None K with tropes KG x4, rubrics SA x11, tropes

Wroclaw 3067

15th Elizabetkirche 2 None K tropes KG x6, rubrics SA x8, rubrics

271

This table of 32 manuscripts shows a preference for grouping movements of the

ordinary together in cycles, and for offering many different options to musicians for

heightening the solemnity of feasts. Eleven of these manuscripts have at least five KGSA

options in cycle form with clearly interpreted rubrics for application. Six others offer

paired groups of distinct KG and SA options, with the Credo as a freestanding option.

Seven of them come from Dominican or Franciscan houses, and others might have close

links. It is difficult to establish a chronology for these inclinations of manuscript

organization, but there is a clear development to offer several different festal options.

I also highlight here the manuscript I call the “Credo omnibus.” A few

manuscripts survive which seem to offer some sort of compilation of Credo chants. The

most prominent examples recorded in Miazga’s catalog are Pisa Biblioteca Cateriniana

219 (15th c., 32 Credos), St Gall 546 (1507, 17 Credos), and Prague National Museum

XIII.A.2 (15th c., 15 Credos). While I have not been able to view the Prague MS in person

or in reproduction, the Pisa and St Gall mss. reflect an impulse to collect and present as

many Credo chants as possible. Notes and marginalia in other manuscripts show a

similar motivation to record different Credo options. A note reproduced in Figure 45,

from Munich BSB Clm. 23286 on f.35v, reads, “Pronotatu aliquot “Pronotatu aliquot

patrem mea cum diligentia ad notarii”—“For the record I have written down a few

‘Patrem’ by my own industry.” Five different uncommon Credo chants follow this note.

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Figure 45: Marginal note in BSB Clm. 23286, f. 35v

All of these omnibus collections tend to focus on uncommon Credo chants. 18 of

the 32 Credos collected in Pisa 219 are unica in Miazga’s catalog, and many of the others

with multiple versions are duplicated only in manuscripts from much later. 10 of the

Credos collected in St Gall 546 are abbreviated, ending after “Et homo factus est.” The

function of these manuscripts is difficult to determine, but they do seem to localize the

anomalies which surround the Credo. Many of the manuscripts mentioned in Table 12

seem to be designed for standard liturgical use, functioning for many different

eucharistic liturgies by virtue of their different collections of ordinary cycles. These

273

omnibus manuscripts, on the other hand, appear as outliers, preserving a large number

of rare canto fratto Credos in various styles for a still-undiscovered reason.

There are also attempts in the manuscripts to further this musical and liturgical

association by organizing the Credos in a similar manner to the organization of the Mass

ordinary chants. Although a level of specificity for the rubrics of Credo Chant like that

of Bologna Lit. 12 is not evident in the earliest sources of canto fratto Credos, the

inclination to connect melodies with specific events in the liturgical calendar remains the

same.

This is only one example of the Credo being treated as an object of liturgy. I also

point to books of hours, which frequently contain the Creed. These books provided a

way for laypeople to participate in the monastic office through recitation and meditation

on the Creed. Another liturgical phenomenon is the abbreviation of the Credo in many

musical sources—both polyphonic and monophonic. It is possible that these truncations

are connected to liturgical devotion of a particular feast day, especially when the

truncated Credos end at liturgically significant words (like “Ex Maria Virgine” or “Et

Homo Factus Est.”).

6.4 Named Credos

As briefly mentioned above, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries there was

likewise a surge in the naming of Credos. We can distinguish at least two different kinds

of Credo naming: some Credos were named for liturgical function, while others were

274

non-liturgical in their naming. Furthermore, some Credos carried both liturgical and

non-liturgical names, depending on the manuscript. I argue that these names are best

explained as a result of the devotional expansion of Credos explored in chapter three,

along with the expanded liturgical emphasis placed on new Credo melodies as they

were written and circulated in the 14th century. Specifically, I analyze one of the most

popular of the canto fratto Credos, the Credo “Cardinalis.” While in most early

manuscripts it bears a liturgically descriptive title, it eventually became known as

“Cardinalis.” I examine the available evidence and offer four potential reasons for its

name.

6.4.1 Credo Cardinalis

The so-called Credo Cardinalis was either the first- or second-most popular

Credo melody of the 1300s and 1400s. Miazga’s catalog records thirty-nine manuscripts

between 1300 and 1500 which preserve this melody; the only other Credo melody with

similar manuscript prevalence is the Credo Regis, present in thirty-seven manuscripts

from the same period. The number in both cases is almost certainly higher, as Marco

Gozzi’s has written about several more in his articles. The Cardinalis is also in the

Vatican Edition and Liber Usualis as Credo IV, though preserved in that instance as

equal-note plainchant without its typical rhythm.

The name cardinalis is explained neither by liturgical nor devotional function, at

least not directly. In much of the secondary literature and in polyphonic settings of the

275

15th century it is usually called cardinalis, though the early manuscript evidence reflects

different traditions. Of the 20 manuscripts I have been able to view which contain Credo

Cardinalis, only one—Bologna Lit.12—refers to it as “Cardinalium.” Miazga records 14

more manuscripts with this melody which refer to it as Cardinal or some variation,

though I have not viewed those other manuscripts.69 In its polyphonic settings it is

frequently called “Cardinalis,” as in Petrucci’s Fragmenta Missarum of 1505.

Miazga does provide an index of titles and names for the Credos. I have added

some manuscripts from my own research, and assembled Table 13, which lists them by

approximate date:

Table 13: Titles for Credo “Cardinalis” in Manuscripts

Title Century Manuscript Regis c. 1400 Padua A.20 Simbolum 1408 Piacenza D Credo maior 15th Arezzo D Pieve Solemnis 15th Perugia San Pietro B Solenne 15th Modena lat.1009 In magni festivitatibus 15th BAV lat.9214 In festis duplicibus ii cl. 15th Arezzo H In duplicibus maioribus 15th Bologna Universitaria 2893 Pro festis BVM 15th Pistoia B.8 Cardinale c. 1480 (later addition?)70 Kraków Biblioteka Cz. 2827

69 Miazga, 156. 70 Images of this MS are viewable at https://cyfrowe.mnk.pl/dlibra/publication/12143 . Folio 25r (the folios are numbered on both recto and verso) appears to be a later addition to a 15th-century MS; the hand is clearly different from the early Kyriale, and the number of lines on the staff is different (4 in the addition, 5 in the older Kyriale). The capitals and colors are also different. Judging by comparison with other manuscripts, it is probably a late-16th or early-17th c. addition.

276

Cardinale 15th Bologna San Pietro V71 Magne 15th–16th Czerwinsk Archiwum s.n. In summis festis symbolum

c. 1500 Münster Bistumsarchiv 235

Solenne 1505 Padua Seminario 359 In duplicibus maioribus 1514 Rome Bib. Naz. Farf. 33 Credo maior 1572 Giunta gradual, Venezia In festis duplicibus i. cl. 1593 Monserrat 755 Solenne 16th–17th Lucca 2673 Włoskie72 1608 Kraków Biblioteka Cz. 3615 Simbolum maius 1619 Barcelona 1673 Cardinale 17th Brno Universitni R.1b Cardinale 17th Brno Universitni R.3 Cardinale 17th Brno Universitni R.25 Cardinalium 17th? Bologna lit.12 Cardinalium sive secundum

17th Brno Universitni R.1d

De Beata dei genitrices maria

17th Kraków Karmelitów 5m

In solemnibus festis 17th (addition to 15th c. MS) Reims 266 Kardynalskie 17th (2nd half) Kraków Prowincji 42 Pro toto duplici 17th (addition to 15th c. MS) Münster Bistumsarchiv 16 Italicum 17th (add. to MS from 1475) Sandomierz 174 Solemne włoskie 17th (add. to MS from 1343) Imbrambowice 3 Pielgrzymkie 1650 Kraków Klarysek89a Mazoviticum 1695–98 Kraków Dominiksnów 139 Kardynalskie 1698 Kraków Biblioteka Cz. 1038 Cardinale 17th–18th Brno Universitni R.27 Cardinale 17th–18th Brno Universitni R.5–6 De Cardinale 1703 Lucca 2687 Cardinalium sive secundum

1721 Brno Universitni r.14

Solenne 1720 Kraków Biblioteka Cz.1040

71 According to a conversation in 2018 with the San Petronio librarian, deacon Mauro Pernici, this manuscript is too damaged for viewing, and I have not been able to find a reproduction to inspect its contents; I would suspect that, based on the same title used in similar manuscripts described in Miazga’s catalog, it is a later addition. 72 Polish for “Italian”

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Major 18th Barcelona 12.VII.2 Kardynalskie 18th Kraków Prowincji 82 Pro 4 ecclesiae doctoribus 18th Modena lat.1183 Pro 4 ecclesiae doctoribus 18th Modena lat.1184 Pro 4 ecclesiae doctoribus 18th Reims mus.49 Cardinale 18th Kraków Prowincji 70 Cardinale 18th Brno Universitni R.21 Cardinale 1765 Brno Universitni R.15 Cardinale 18th Bologna San Pietro 16 Cardinal Major 18th Bologna San Pietro 37

By observing the naming trend in this table, it is likely that the title “Cardinale” or

“Cardinalis” was only firmly attached to this Credo in later centuries. The earlier

manuscripts show a more fluid naming convention for this music.

The titles of the polyphonic settings of Credo Cardinalis do not provide much

more information; only a few sources bear the title “Cardinalis,” if there is any title at all.

Table 14: Polyphonic Sources and Titles Using Credo “Cardinalis” as a Cantus Firmus

Manuscript or print

folio Date Composer Title in manuscript or print

Trent 87 235v 1430–40 Anonymous None VatS 51 190v 1472–91 Vacqueras None VatS 35 200v 1487–90 De Orto none VatS 23 176v 1492–1512 Brumel none Jena 22 22v c. 1500 De la Rue None; mass is

titled “Missa Beate Virgine”

Petruci Fragmenta

6r (Superius) 1505 Van Weerbeke Patrem cardinale (TOC); Gaspar Cardinale

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Petrucci Misse de Orto

1505 De Orto “Missa dominicalis”

Cappella Giulia Pal. Lat. 1982

164r 1512–13 Brumel none

Munich BSB Mus. 65

123v 1520 Brumel None

Bologna San Pietro 38

23v 1527 De La Rue (not able to access images of MS)

Bologna San Pietro 29

8v 1527 Anonymous Patrem Cardinalis73

Though the title “Cardinal,” “Cardinalis,” or “Cardineo” is affixed to this Credo

melody at some point, is difficult to discern the origin of that naming convention. The

earliest reference to the “Cardinalis” Credo from a theoretical source comes from

Gaffurius, writing in Milan around 1480, who refences it as “Cardineo”:

Sunt et qui notulas huiusmodi plani cantus aeque describunt et commensurant figuris mensurabilis consideration sit u[t] longas, breves ac semibreves, ut constat in Symbolo cardineo et nonnullis prosis atque hymnis: quod Galli potissime ad ornationem modulorum pronunciatonem ipsa diversitate concipiendam celeberrime prosequuntur.

There are also those who write these notes of the plain chant all alike, and at the same time, count them in mensurable dimensions as longs, breves, and semibreves. This is evident in the Symbolum cardineum and in several sequences and hymns. Quite frequently this technique is followed by Gallic musicians especially for the purpose of expressing a more ornate articulation of their music by this very diversity.74

73 As recorded in Frank Tirro, Renaissance Musical Sources in the Archive of San Petronio in Bologna (Neuhausen Stuttgart: American Institute of Musicology, 1986), 138. 74 Translation from Sherr, “The Performance of Chant,” 184.

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Other theoreticians from the 15th and 16th centuries refer to this title or some

variation thereof. Pietro Aaron, in De institutione harmonica of 1516, writes:

Igitur cantus planus dicitur, cuius notae aequali mensura, et pari tempore pronunciantur, Cuius legem mutare solum in Patrem omnipotentem, quem cardineum uocant, permittitur, sicut in libris apparet ecclesiasticis. In quo, quemadmodum Augustino, et post illum Gregroio placuisse accepimus, quinque ordines ad huiusmodi cantum pertinentes instituti sunt, De quibus particula (ut uocant) omnis ecclesiastica gignitur.75

It is therefore called “cantus planus,” the one whose notes are pronounced with the same value and with the same time; the law of which can be changed only in the Creed which is called "cardinal", as we see in ecclesiastical books. In which, just as Augustine, and after him Gregory we obeyed to please, five orders of this sort were instituted pertaining to chant, of which a small part (as they say) is born in every church.

The third early theoretical witness to the title is Biagio Rossetti (d. after 1547),

writing in Verona in his only published treatise, Libellus de rudimentis musices (1529).76

Rossetti was a priest and organist at the cathedral of Verona, and in charge of the

training of choristers. His book served as an introduction to proper choral technique and

also offers theological explanations of the mass and office. Writing about plainchant, he

states:

Caeteris autem, scilicet, notulis, aequales sunt istae mediocres in pronunciatione et temporis mensura, licet nonnulli eas, scilicet, mediocres notas, duplo strictius

But equal to the others—namely, to the notulae—are those medium in delivery and measure of time, although some people measure them—namely, the medium notes—more strictly equal to

75 Petrus Aaron, Libri tres de institutione harmonica, liber primus. https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/16th/AARIHCOR 76 Biagio Rossetti, Libellus de rudimentis musices: Compendium musicae. https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/16th/ROSLIB1

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caeteris commensurent, quod non fit ratione sed cantoris arbitrio. Sunt enim aliqui qui notas aeque describunt et commensurant figuris cantus mensurabilis, ut longas, breves ac semibreves, ut constat in symbolo Cardineo vel Patriarchino, et in prosis et hymnis, quod Galli potissime ornatiorem modulorum pronunciationem pro ipsa diversitate concinnenda celeberrime prosequuntur, sed multis in locis, et maxime hic in Italia, sunt multi qui omnes notulas cantant aequales ad modum brevium quando cantant festive, vel ad modum semibrevium quando strictius cantant, et tam ligaturas quam longas et mediocres, id est, semibreves, omnes in eadem mensura. Et hoc faciunt quia omnes cantum non intelligunt figuratum, et non habent cognitionem de quantitate valoris notarum. Sed si cantus pronunciatur secundum suum valorem notarum, ita quod brevis esset unius temporis et mediocris, et ligaturae prolatae essent pro medietate valoris, illi quid caneret levior labor in cantando haberetur, et maxime in responsoriis et gradualibus.

double the others, a thing which happens not by a rule, but by the choice of the singer. For there are some who equally divide notes and measure songs in measurable figures—as longs, breves, and semibreves—as is evident in the Cardinal or Patriarchino Symbol [i.e., Creed], both in prose works and in hymns, a thing the French most famously pursue, chiefly as a more ornate pronunciation of little measures, for the sake of the very diversity of what must be sung; but in many places, and especially here in Italy, there are many who sing all notes equal to the measure of breves, when they sing festively, or to the measure of a semibreve, when they are singing more strictly, and so the ligatures as longs and the medium notes, that is, the semibreves, are all in the same measure. And they do this because they do not all understand the cantus figuratus, and they are not acquainted with the quantity of values of notes. But if the song is pronounced according to the value of its notes, so that a breve would be of one tempus and medium and the ligatures brought forward would be for the middle of the value, for him anything he would sing would be considered a lighter labor in singing, and especially in the responsories and graduals.

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Rossetti is clearly concerned with the lack of instruction in the singing of notes

according to their proper values. As evidence that there are some ecclesial chants that do

use rhythm, he raises the example of the “symbolo Cardineo vel Patriarchino.”

Later authors include Giovanni Lanfranco (1490–1545) and Gioseffo Zarlino

(1517–1590). Lanfranco writes in 1533:

Delle note mezzane La Nota chiamata mezzana e quella: che si parte con la sua forma dalla semplice: et dalla composita: perciò che essa si forma in figura di Semibreve: et non mai sola. Per il che o due: o più se ne figura in questo modo Le quali medesimamente nella misura del tempo alle altre sono eguali: a benché alcuni i proporzione dupla: contra le altre le mandano: come nel Credo cardinale: et in altri luoghi si comprende: il qual uso non e buono per lo contrappuntista: ne e secondo la mente del primo conduttore del canto fermo.

Of the intermediary notes The note called intermediary is that which is separated from the simple and compound, since it is made in the shape of a Semibreve and is never alone. For which reason, either two or more of them are represented in this way. The which, similarly, are equal to the others in the measurement of time; although some people in duple proportion, set them against the others, as contained in the cardinal Credo and other places, this usage is not good for the performer, nor is it according to the intention of the originator of plainsong.77

Teaching how to read ligatures, Lanfranco warns about the rhythmic interpretation of

the Credo Cardinalis because it uses intermediary notes. Apparently Lanfranco is

referring to the cadential figure of the Credo Cardinalis, as shown here from a 15th-

century Franciscan gradual:

77 Lanfranco, Scintille di musica, (Brescia, 1553) Parte Primo, 33. Translation taken from Barbara Lee, “Giovanni Maria Lanfranco’s “Scintille di Musica” and Its Relation to 16th-Century Music Theory,” (Ph.D. dissertation, Cornell University, 1961), 105–106.

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Figure 46: Bologna University 2839, f. 481r

The difficulty Lanfranco encounters is that he is describing the reading of

plainchant but has to account for canto fratto Credo chants that follow the rules of

mensural, not canto plano, music. Lanfranco provides this figure to illustrate the note

mezzane.

Figure 47: Note mezzane illustration from Lanfranco, 33.

Despite the notational problems he encounters, Lanfranco’s reference to the Credo called

“Cardinalis” ensures its tradition as a name by the 16th century. He provides one more

reference to the Credo Cardinalis in another section, on text placement.

Modo di mettere le parole sotto a i canti Or e da sapere, che le distinzioni delle parole si fanno nel canto misurato: ma non come nel Fermo: perché in questo la

How to put the words under the music Now one must know that the articulation of the words is made in measured music but not as in plainsong, because in the

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distinzione si fa secondo la sentenza delle parole: et in quello, secondo che porta l’ordine del contrappunto, e la necessita delle Pause, benché il Compositore de auertire di far la cadenza, oueto distinzione generale secondo la sentenza, e distinzione delle parole. Nel canto Misurato adunque ogni nota distinta (eccettuando quasi sempre la Semiminima) porta la sua sillaba, come fa quella del Fermo. Ma nel Fermo solamente sopra le quadre si pone la sillaba, eccetto alcuna volta: dove l’usanza porta di mandare le mezzane in Dupla proporzione: come ne i Credo: et in altri canti si vede. Et ogni legatura o del Fermo, o del Figurato non porta più di una sillaba, come già fu detto.

latter the articulation is made according to the sense of the words, and in the former, according to the order of the counterpoint and the necessity of rests, though the composer ought to take care to make the cadence or general separation according to the sense and articulation of the words. In measured music, then, every separate note (excepting almost always the Semiminim) carries a syllable, as does that in plainsong. But in plainsong syllables are placed on square notes [puncta, virgae] only, except at times where custom permits their delivery in half time on the middle ones [of a conjunctura], as may be seen in the chants of the Credo and in others.78 And ever ligature of both plainsong and figured music carries no more than one syllable, as we said already.

Because of the proliferation of Credo chants in canto fratto, Lanfranco is probably

referring to the canto fratto Credos in general—that is, the example of “plainsong”

78 Giovanni Maria Lanfranco, Scintille di Musica (Brescia: Lodovico Britanico, 1533), Parte Secondo, 68. Translation taken from Lee and from Don Harrán, Word-Tone Relations (Neuhausen–Stuttgart: American Institute of Musicology, 1986), 416, No. 196.

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writing that includes notes of varying length which treats syllables in different ways

from other plainsong.

Gioseffo Zarlino, writing two decades later, observes a similar difficulty in

describing the canto fratto notation of the Cardinalis. In a section with a title similar to

that of Lanfranco’s, he refers to the Cardinalis:

Il modo, che si hà da tenere, nel porro le Figure cantabile sotto le Parole. La Prima Regola adunque sarà, di porre sempre sotto la sillaba longa, o breve una figura conveniente, di maniera, che non si odi alcuno, Barbarismo: percioche nel Canto figurato ogni figura cantabile, che sia destinta, e non legata (da la Seminima et tutte quelle che sono di lei minori in fuori) porta seco la sua sillaba; il che si osserva etiandio nel Canto fermo: essendo che in ogni figura quadrata si accomoda la sua sillaba; eccettuando alcune volte le mezzane, che si mandano come le Minime; et anche come le Semiminime; come si comprende in molte cantilena, et massimamente nel Credo in unum Deum, il quale chiamano Cardinalesco.

The manner to be followed in placing the musical figures under the words The first rule, then, will be always to place under a long or a short syllable a corresponding figure so that no barbarism will be heard; for in figurated music each musical figure which is separated not in ligature [except] the semiminim and all those that are smaller than the semiminim carries with itself its own syllable. This rule is observed in plainsong, too: for every square note has its own syllable adapted to it, except sometimes the medial notes that are performed as minims and also as semiminims, as may be discerned in many pieces, especially in that Credo in unum Deum they call the “Credo Cardinale [or, Cardinalesco].”79

79 Zarlino, Le istitutioni harmoniche (Venice, 1573), 421–22(IV.33). Translation from Vered Cohen, “Zarlino on Modes: An Annotated, Indexed Translation, with Introduction and Commentary, of Part IV of Le Istitutioni harmoniche,” (PhD. Dissertation, City University of New York, 1977), 214, and in Harrán, 416.

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Zarlino is facing a problem similar to that of Lanfranco: if the rule of text placement is to

be followed in plainsong, how does the strange situation of the Credo Cardinalis fit in?

The cadence of the Cardinalis, as observed in Figure 46, is usually notated as having a

melisma over multiple semiminims, clearly breaking the rule set forth by Lanfranco and

Zarlino that every differentiated note aligns with one syllable.

These multiple manuscript, print, and theoretical references to the Credo

Cardinalis show that it did have a title well-established as early as the late fifteenth

century, though that title seems to apply most commonly when it is being treated as a

special case. Gaffurius and the 1505 Petrucci print are the earliest confirmed references

giving the title “Cardinalis” to this Credo. It is possible that the manuscripts Kraków

Biblioteka Cz. 2827 (dated to 1480) and Bologna San Petronio V (15th century) are earlier

than the printed references, but it is most likely that those examples are later additions

to those manuscripts. In any event, the usage of “Cardinalis” is not reflected in the

actual chant manuscripts until the 17th century besides those two exceptions. When they

name a Credo chant, the earliest chant manuscripts tend to focus on the liturgical use of

the Credo, an observation which also reflects the association of the newly-composed

Credos with the plainchant ordinary mass “cycles” in manuscripts.

6.4.1.1 The origins of the title Cardinalis

It is not clear what “Cardinalis” means, and why that title was so broadly

applied to this Credo chant by theorists and Petrucci, among others. I assemble four

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possible origins here. 1) and 2) are digests of secondary research; 3) and 4) are my own

interventions.

1. Michel Huglo states that the title “Cardinalis” means that it is sung “for

cardinal or principal feasts.”80 Describing the 14th- or 15th-century missal Clermont 73, he

notes a Credo in two voices written in two columns, each column presenting one voice

(tenor and bassus, according to Huglo). Huglo considers this manuscript one of the “first

monuments of French polyphony,” and also erroneously claims it is the earliest source

for Credo Cardinalis, although the dating of Clermont 73 is not secure.81 In any event,

Huglo does not offer a citation for the statement.

2. Marco Gozzi argues that the title implies it was written by a cardinal in the

Roman curia, perhaps at Avignon; its title is a description of the composer, much like

the Credo Regis applies because it was composed by King Robert of Anjou.82 He

references Huglo’s claim, but dismisses it as not convincing.

3. I present here a unique intervention into the search My first contribution to

this search for the origin of the title “Cardinalis” starts with etymology. I suggest that

80 Michel Huglo, “Les débuts de la polyphonie en Auvergne,” Bulletin Historique et Scientifique de l’Auvergne 77 (1957):100–104, at 101. 81 Gozzi gives the date as 15th century in “I prototipi del canto fratto: Credo regis e Credo Cardinalis,” in Cantus fractus italiano: un’antologia, ed. Marco Gozzi (Hildesheim: Olms, 2012), 137-154, at 143, Tavola 5. Gozzi refers to the manuscript Padova A20 as the earliest witness (14th century) of the Cardinalis in Gozzi, “Liturgia e musica mensurale nel Trecento Italiano: i canti dell’ordinarium,” in Kontinuität und Transformation in der italienischen Vokalmusik zwischen Due-und Guattrocento, ed. Sandra Dieckmann, Oliver Huck, Signe Rotter-Broman und Alba Scotti (Hildesheim: Olms, 2007), 53-99, at 91, Tavola 4. 82 Marco Gozzi, “Alle origini del canto fratto: il ‘Credo Cardinalis,’” Musica e storia 14 (2006): 245-302, at 245.

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the root cardo, meaning “hinge” or “axis,” is the sense preserved in other musical

writings that use the term “cardinalis”—rather than its later sense as “chief” or

“principal.”

In a 1976 paper, Charles W. Warren highlights a passage in Anonymus XII (14th

or 15th c.) referring to the fermata as a “corona” or a “cardinalis.”83 The theorist calls the

fermata a ‘signum concordantionis,’ and a cardinalis, which, according to Warren,

“implies that something was happening under the sign that required a special sign of

concordance.”84 Anonymus XII is not the only theorist to refer to this sign; Anonymus X,

writing in the late 14th century, also refers to signs called cardinales:

Item sciendum quod plures reperiuntur longe coronas in capitibus suis deferentes,

ut sic: que cardinales a musicis nuncupantur. Denotatur autem per easdem notulas in eis fieri pausam modicam concentus et protractionem spiraminis absque plena notularum prolatione.85

Again, it should be noted that that many, by far, will be found to be wearing crowns on their heads, like this:

which are called cardinales by musicians. But it is marked by means of the same notes in them to be a moderate pause of singing and a protraction of breath without full prolation of notes.

83 Amnon Shiloah and Egert Pöhlmann give the date of the treatises Tractatus de musica and Compendium cantus figurati as second-half of the 14th century (“Anonymi, Einzelhinweise auf anonyme musiktheoretische Schriften, Lateinische und volkssprachige Texte aus Mittelalter und Renaissance bis um 1500”, in MGG2, ed. Laurenz Lütteken, online edition 2016). C. Matthew Balensuela gives a 15th-century date for the same treatises in Grove Music Online, “Anonymous Theoretical Writings” (updated January 29, 2019). 84 Charles W. Warren, “Punctus Organi and Cantus Coronatus in the Music of Dufay,” in Papers Read at the Dufay Quincentenary Conference, ed. Allan W. Atlas (Brooklyn: Dept of Music, School of Performing Arts, Brooklyn College of the City University of New York, 1976), 128–141, at 132. 85 Anonymous X, De minimis notulis, in Thesaurus Musicarum Latinarum, https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANO10DEM

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And from Anonymus XII

Nono, aliquod signum dicitur signum concordationis quod alio nomine dicitur cardinalis quia formatur ad modum pilei cardinalis, ut hic: U86

Ninth, a particular sign is called “sign of concord,” which by another name is called cardinalis because it is formed in the way of a cardinal’s cap, like this: U

Other contemporary theoretical descriptions show a similar meaning in the sense

of a long note. An anonymous treatise from around 1400, “De musica mensurata,”

describes the cardinalis as a note shape similar to other note shapes with values, like the

breve, long, maxima, semibreve, etc.87 The author clearly states, “Cardinalis est ut finalis

brevis.” (“The cardinalis is as a final breve.”).

Several other theoretical tracts from the 14th through 16th centuries confirm this

meaning of cardinalis as a note shape or as an appendage to a note which changes its

value. A treatise in the manuscript A-Salzburg Erzabtei St. Peter, Bibliothek, Ms. b II 42,

f. 334r-338v, gives an illustration detailing note shapes at its conclusion.

86 Anonymous. Tractatus cantus figurati, in Thesaurus Musicarum Latinarum, https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANO12TCF 87 Anonymous, [De musica mensurata], https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANOBRI

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Figure 48: Notational Signs from Anonymous, [Regulae contrapuncti]; image from TML

The “signum cardinalis” fits in, in this case, among the other note shapes in

ascending time value. Another 15th-century Salzburg manuscript (Salzburg, St Peter’s

Abbey, a.VI.44, f.68v–75r) gives a similar definition of cardinalis in comparison to other

note shapes.

Aliquod est signum prolacionis mayoris et est punctus positus in medio circuli vel semicirculi vt hic… Dicitur notanter positus in medio circuli et cetera quia positus per se cum adiunccione ad aliquam notam erit signum perfectionis vel inperfectionis Aliquod est signum reincepcionis et formatur sic… . Sub quo cantus in suo corpore progrediens principium repetit Aliquod est signum [et supra lin.] dicitur Cardinalis [signum]. Sub quo omnes voces scilicet discantus Tenor et reliqua

Another is the signum prolacionis maioris, and it is a dot placed in the middle of a circle or semicircle like this... Notably, it is called “placed in the middle of a circle” and so forth because it is placed by itself; in combination with another note it will be a signum perfectionis or imperfectionis. Another is the signum reincepionis and is formed thus... Under which the singing, progressing in its own body, repeats the beginning. Another is the sign [also above the line] called the cardinalis [signum]. Under

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longo accentu dulci sonans fundunt consonancias.88

which all voices—namely the the descant tenor and the rest—resounding with a long, sweet accent, pour out harmonies.

This description appears to resemble that of the others, referring to the cardinalis sign,

among the signs of prolation, as one in which the other voices sing under a held note.

The 15th-century anonymous Modus cantandi in mensurabilis offers this description

under the heading “De valoribus notarum”:

Et est sciendum quod cardinalis semper illud representat quod prius representabat sine signo illo supraposito, sed solum differt in hoc quod debet cantari sub uno motu que forte prius distinguabatur. Et sic habetur de valoribus notarum.89

And it must be known that the cardinalis always represents that which was previously represented without that sign placed above, but only differs in this: previously there was distinguished that which ought to be sung under one motion and volume. And so it is held concerning the values of notes.

These various theoreticians witness that the cardinalis is usually considered a

“sign,” but there does not appear to be agreement among them. Anonymus X and XII

refer to it as a sign which caps a note, signaling some change in rhythm. The first

Salzburg manuscript lists it among a table of note values after fusae, and the second

includes it in a discussion of mensuration signs. While many of these treatises refer to

note shapes and crowned notes, none of the extant monophonic or two-voice versions of

88 Ibid. 89 Anonymous, Modus cantandi in mensuralibus, https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANOMOD

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the Credo Cardinalis appear to preserve any unique note shapes or fermatas. Indeed, the

notation for this Credo is remarkably consistent from manuscripts from different

centuries, although Marco Gozzi has demonstrated that the rhythmic notation of the

cadence gesture has changed.90

I suggest that the title Cardinalis, appearing for the first time in the late-15th or

early 16th-century, is a reference to the two-voice origin of this Credo. Indeed, the

common aspect of the theoretical excerpts is a reference to the practice of held notes and

allude to other voices singing under a held note. It is possible that, by the time theorists

and manuscript in the 1480s were referring to the Credo Cardinalis—and as polyphonic

composers were composing polyphonic settings of this Credo—the somewhat obscure

reference to cardinalis as a sign aligning multiple voices became associated with this

Credo which may have been performed in simple polyphony.91

4. Another explanation—though an unlikely one—derives from the name Biagio

Rosetti uses when discussing this Credo in his Libellus de Rudimentis Musices (1529)—

"symbolo Cardineo vel Patriarchino.” While the title “Patriarchino” does not appear in

any of the manuscripts I have looked at, it is possible that there is a relation between

early instances of this Credo melody and the Aquileian rite, also called “Patriarchino.”

90 Gozzi, “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto,” 276. 91 Gozzi provides images of several early two-voiced witnesses for Cardinalis in “Alle Origini del Canto Fratto,” and on the Progetto Raphael website, www.cantusfractus.org.

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The bishop of Aquileia was called a patriarch as early as the 6th century, and the

existence of a unique rite within that patriarchate is documented in the 7th.92 Two early

sources of Credo Cardinalis are manuscripts of the Patriarchino rite from Cividale

(Cividale 58 and Cividale 79), and several of the Patriarchino manuscripts are among the

oldest with any other Credo melodies. These old Patriarchino manuscripts include

Cividale 35bis, Cividale 56, Cividale 58, Cividale 79, Gorizia H, Udine 10, Udine 27, and

Rome Bib. Angelica 1424. Discounting the possible link between the Patriarchino rite

and the Credo Cardinalis is that, among these Patriarchino musical manuscripts, the

Credo Regis is a more popular melody. One of these manuscripts, Gorizia H, has even

inserted the Credo Regis in a different hand from the rest of the manuscript, and it is the

only piece in that manuscript in that hand. Still, the possibility that there is a link

between the ancient Aquileian rite is tantalizing but would require further investigation

of the oldest manuscripts.

The title cardinalis can thus reveal several different ways into understanding the

genesis and early interpretation of this Credo melody. The interpretations proposed by

Huglo and Gozzi are certainly possible—by the 15th century this melody was considered

the primary melodic option for major feasts (maioribus duplicibus, as is indicated in

92 See Maria Incoronata Colantuono, “Liturgia aquileiese e rito patriarchino in alcuni libri liturgico-musicali di Cividale del Friuli,” I quaderni del m. æ. s.-Journal of Mediæ Ætatis Sodalicium 2.1(1999): 7-21; and Raffaella Camilot–Oswald, “Aquileia,” Grove Music Online.

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several musical manuscripts), and composition by a major ecclesiastic is conceivable. Yet

the etymologic background of cardinalis reveals a deeper understanding of how that

word could be applied to a musical composition. The primary usage of cardinalis in

music-theoretical texts from the period testifies to the note-shape concerns I mentioned

above, although there are other mentions by theorists writing about ecclesial cardinals.

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7. Conclusion Sicardo of Cremona, writing in the 1180s and ‘90s, states the following in his

mass commentary, Mitrale:

Symbolo cantata, ante et dum cantatur, alicubi cantat populus Kyrie eleison ; quoniam postquam christus et apostoli popoulum docuerunt, fide recepta, laudes Deo dederunt, quas forsitan repraesentat Symboli melodia suavissima ; vel potius ne objiciatur : Cantavimus et non saltastis, auditor evangelii alacri mente et jucunda et saltabili voce ostendit quam bene evangelicam doctrinam retinuit.1

When the Symbol [i.e., the Creed] has been sung, before and while it is sung, in some places the people sing Kyrie eleison; since after Christ and the apostles taught the people, after the faith was received, they gave praises to God; the praises which, perhaps, the sweetest melody of the Symbol represents; or rather, lest it be objected: We sang and you did not dance [Luke 7:32], the hearer of the gospel, with eager mind and pleasant and leaping voice, showed how well he retained the gospel teaching.

Sicardo’s statement witnesses to a regional practice of the Credo being sung by the

clergy and followed by a Kyrie eleison sung by the laypeople. The assumption here is that

the laypeople could not sing the Credo along with the clergy and opted for the shorter

endorsement of the Credo’s contents by singing Kyrie eleison.2

As partly explored in Chapters Five and Six, the medieval liturgy featured a

variety of devotional practices, postures, prayers, and even dances in which the laity

participated. It is difficult to discern, however, whether the laity actually sang the Credo

1 PL 213:113d. My translation 2 This interpretation of Sicardo’s statement is offered by Augustine Thompson in Cities of God, 251.

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during mass. There is no evidence in the high medieval period explicitly stating that

they did, and there are statements like Sicardo’s intimating that they did not. The voices

we do have on this subject matter are telling in their silence, and we can conclude that

lay singing of the Credo was rare.

Moving forward several centuries, another document from the Italy in the 15th

century portrays a very different picture of lay participation. Giuseppina de Sandre

Gasparini brings attention to a legal document detailing the complaints of church

authorities against a lay confraternity using a diocesan church in the Veneto. Among

their complaints, the church authorities write:

[Inoltre celebra quando vuole anche “in cantu” e i confratelli—si baldi—] “qui sunt artifices et meri seculars secum cantant et celebrant et ministrant divina, silicet inponendo missalem, pacem, accendeno cereos, in dando tus et dando aquam ad purificationem presbitero, in parando altaria, in adiuvando dicere Kirieleison Christeleison etc., Spiritu tuo, Sanctus Sanctus, Credo in Deum Patrem, Epistolas, Agnus Dei qui tolis pecata mundi.”3

[Further, he celebrates when he also wants “in cantu” and the confraternity members—mind you—] who are craftsmen and mere laymen sing with him and celebrate and attend to the holy things, namely by setting up the missal and the pax, by lighting candles, in offering incense and in offering water for the purification of the priest, in preparing the altars, in helping to say Kirieleison Christeleison etc., Spiritu tuo, Sanctus Sanctus, Credo in Deum Patrem, the epistles, Agnus Dei qui tolis pecata mundi.

3 Giuseppina de Sandre Gasparini, “Confraternité e ‘cura animarum’ nei primi decenni del Quattrocento. I disciplinati e la parrocchia di S. Vitale in Verona,” in Pievi, Parrochie e Clero nel Veneto dal X al XV Secolo, ed. Paolo Sambin (Venezia: Deputazione ed., 1987), 289–360, at 310.

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In this document, the “mere laymen” are even assisting the priest in his chanting (dicere)

of the Creed and other mass chants.4 They appear to be stepping beyond their duties as

laymen and infracting on the role of the priest.

These two documents are separated by several miles and hundreds of years,

written for different occasions and for different audiences. Yet they hint at the

involvement of some laity in the mass, particularly in reference to the chanting of the

Creed. The congregation of Sicardo’s time sang “Kyrie Eleison” because they either did

not know how or were not allowed to sing the Creed with the clergy. The lay

confraternity members of the 15th-century legal dispute know the Creed well enough to

sing along with the clergy.

While it is not clear that those lay confraternity members were singing canto fratto

Credos, the proliferation of Credos composed in that style complements the possibility

that laypeople were singing along. Throughout this dissertation I have demonstrated

that the musical changes of the Credo in the late medieval period were part of a broader

cultural use of the Credo catechetically, devotionally, and liturgically. The possibility is

likely that these new Credo chants also enabled greater congregational participation in

the singing of the liturgy.

4 Interestingly, this document cites “Credo in Deum Patrem,” the beginning of the shorter Apostles’ Creed, rather than the longer Nicene Creed’s “Credo in Unum Deum.” The shorter Creed was not called for in Mass, so it is unclear if the authorities laying this charge were actually referring to a different liturgical creed, using a shorthand reference to the mass creed, or merely confused.

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Lay participation in the mass has not been the focus of this dissertation.5 Yet we

can observe that a shift in mass music and participation occurred between the 12th and

15th centuries as shown in these documents. The most obvious sign of this shift was the

emergence of a new way of singing the Credo, particularly in the canto fratto style. These

Credos spread quickly throughout churches of Europe, and their popularity endured for

centuries. As mentioned above in the Introduction, many Italian churches reorganized,

expanded, or rewrote their choir books in the 15th and 16th centuries, in several cases

expanding them to include representatives of the canto fratto Credos. These markers of

expansion are evident in many 15th-century manuscripts which feature sections of

newly added Credos, as mentioned in Chapter Six. Marco Gozzi writes, “It must be

stressed that these books were used, in the majority of cases, for more than four

centuries. … In many cases during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, new choir

books were copied containing offices and masses of recently canonized saints, and

kyriales, almost always containing masses in cantus fractus.”6 Although the canto fratto

style today is rarely given more attention than as a curiosity of medieval chant books, it

held a foothold in European church singing for centuries.

5 Much of the musicological research on lay participation in liturgy has focused on confraternities and genres like the lauda. See Reinhard Strohm, "Sacred Song in the Fifteenth Century: Cantio, Carol, Lauda, Kirchenlied,” in The Cambridge History of Fifteenth-Century Music, ed. Anna Maria Busse Berger and Jesse Rodin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015), 755-70. Eamon Duffy’s The Stripping of the Altars and Augustine Thompson’s Cities of God also highlight lay participation (though not musically) in liturgy in the medieval period in England and Italy, respectively. 6 Marco Gozzi, “Italy to 1300,” 128.

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My aim in the preceding chapters has been to give a thick description of late

medieval culture regarding the Credo. The musical text and its various phenomena has

been my touchpoint throughout, but ultimately the musical Credo emerges as one

aspect of a richly textured medieval phenomenon.

In the second chapter, I detailed the rise of the Credo as a text and as a liturgical

entity, tracing its genesis as a baptismal formula to the official composition of the Nicene

Creed in the 4th century to its introduction into the Eucharist liturgy in the 6th. It is not

germane to the eucharistic liturgy, and the text itself is the result of an imperially-

sponsored attempt to reconcile competing theological factions. For over 1,000 years,

however, it has been part of the eucharistic liturgy in both the Eastern and Western

churches, and it remains one of the most personal liturgical moments. The composition

of the text of the Creed, while solving some problems within Constantine’s empire, laid

the foundation for further division, most notably in the Chalcedonian controversies of

the 5th century (the division of that controversy enduring to the present day in the

churches of Armenia, Egypt, and Ethiopia, among others) and the schism of the Eastern

Orthodox church from the Roman Catholic church, traditionally dated to 1054.7 From a

relatively early period the text was fixed in both Greek (5th century) and Latin (8th

7 While 1054 was the year of the formal mutual excommunications of the bishops of Rome and Constantinople, recent historians have added nuance to the history of separation, affirming that the division only became formal in the 13th century. See Andrew Louth, Greek East and Latin West: The Church, AD 681–1071 (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2007), 316.

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century), but because of its didactic nature and prolixity it was regarded differently than

other liturgical texts. To this day in the Roman Catholic Church the Creed is not called

for at every liturgy of the mass.

In the third chapter I examined the musical data for the earliest Credo

plainchants and introduced and surveyed the most popular of the canto fratto Credos.

Credo I is the most prominent of the plainchant Credos, though I discussed the musical

evidence that it is probably not the earliest. Credos I, II, V, and VI all bear similarities to

each other, and it seems possible that VI is the earliest. Nevertheless, Credo I is both the

most popular and the most musically developed of the plainchant Credos and served as

the focus of my musical analysis. As a musical composition it bears similarities to psalm-

tone and tract composition, especially by means of its repeating phrases and recitation

pitches, but it does not fit neatly into either category. The canto fratto Credos, several of

which I have transcribed in Appendix C: Transcriptions of Canto Fratto Credos, are all

markedly different in melodic organization from the plainchant Credos. Unlike the

plainchant Credos they are mostly through-composed, reusing musical motifs but not

whole phrases. Their rhythmic profile, however, stands out as the defining feature.

Moving forward from the liturgical and chant history of Chapters Two and

Three, Chapters Four through Six comprise a unit analyzing the credo through the lens

of three facets of late medieval religious life—catechesis, devotion, and liturgy. While

these categories are not grouped together by modern scholars, they emerged from my

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readings of historians of late medieval culture. Those three categories comprise the

foundation of late medieval religious life; nearly every feature of medieval religious life

emerges from them. Catechism is the teaching and learning of the faith and includes the

impulse to learn Catholic doctrine integrally. Devotion includes all popular forms of

religious expression, from pilgrimage to the rosary to paraliturgical devotional songs.

Liturgy defines the public rituals of the Catholic Church, felt particularly in its cyclical

calendar. Every day, week, and year followed a similar cycle of feasts, fasts, celebrations,

and commemorations.

The Credo is unique in that it straddles all three of these aspects. It is at once an

object of catechism, as well as the primary means of catechism. That is, learning the

Credo became the means by which Catholic faithful learned the faith. Perhaps because

of this exalted catechetical status, it quickly assumed a position as an object of devotion.

This is readily apparent in artwork depicting the Credo beginning in the high medieval

period. As a liturgical component, the Credo assumed an expanded role in the wake of

these renewed emphases from catechesis and devotion, flowering into an object of art,

music, and liturgical order.

There is certainly common ground between these categories for overlap and

confusion. Catechism, for example, frequently occurred within the context of the

sacramental worship, particularly in homilies, but also in the rite of confession.

Medieval devotional attitudes tended to spill into every facet of life. Society was largely

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oriented toward the church and its cycles, but in the 12th and 13th centuries this devotion

took on a new fervor with the rise of lay religious movements, usually called conversi

and penitenti. These lay ascetics had parallels in other devotional practices like

pilgrimage and confraternity membership, and they organized their lifestyles around

the teaching of the faith and the liturgical cycles of feasts and fasts of the church. The

Vita of these lay saints (many of whom were suppressed by the church after the rise of

the mendicant orders in the 13th century) frequently portray them as church members of

proper doctrine, particularly to contrast them with heretical sects common in Italy and

southern France at the time.8 Liturgical actions frequently became devotional. Augustine

Thompson refers to a “sacramental devotional” practice of St Nicolai Tolentinatis, who

never imposed penances in confession, but reassured the sinner that his act of humility

in confession was enough.9

Yet for all of the crossover of these three categories, they usually define distinct

realms of activity that are associated with dedicated forms crafted according to their

expectations. Catechism broadly treats those topics concerned with knowledge of the

faith, with its end a proper understanding of Catholic teaching. Catechism can be found

in liturgical and devotional settings but is primarily the teaching that occurs within

those settings. Devotion is perhaps the broadest category, not bound in the strict order

8 See Augustine Thompson, Cities of God, Chapter Two, “From Conversion to Community.” 9 Thompson, Cities of God, 286.

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of medieval liturgy, nor associated with the unmediated experience of God held by

mystics. Rather, devotional religion is the individual’s response to God. Liturgy is

perhaps the most easily demarcated, as the borders of the liturgical life of medieval

Christianity were rigorously defined, though not without a number of regional and local

differences.

In Chapter Four I detailed the importance of catechesis both as a goal and as an

activity. Because of statements laid out by theologians in the 12th century, the Credo

emerged as the defining aspect of Christian catechesis. The Credo became both the

means and the object of catechesis. The insistence of 12th century theologians on

understanding of faith led to pronouncements from church authorities in the 13th

century to teach the faith by means of the Creed. The success of that project is evident in

literary sources, from Dante and Chaucer to 16th century literacy guides. I attempted to

draw a connection between the catechetical nature of the Creed text and the possible

catechetical nature of the Credo Cardinalis music by examining the musical structure of

Cardinalis.

In Chapter Five I demonstrated the pervasive nature of credo devotion. This

devotion grew out of the catechetical emphasis explored in Chapter Four. One

significant area of credo devotion was the use of the credo in artwork. These works of

art, such as paintings, frescoes, tapestries, and woodcuts all featured devotional scenes

from the Credo for the purpose of personal meditation and prayer. Musically, I

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connected these devotional aspects to musical moments which highlight devotional

aspects of the Creed and offer space for contemplation for the listeners and the

musicians. In polyphonic works of music, these devotional moments included sections

of homophony on important texts of the credo. In monophonic music, these devotional

movements included fermatas, repeated text, and coloration of words and music.

The final chapter explored the liturgical uses of the credo and how its status

changed over the late medieval period. I examined texts from medieval liturgical

commentators who all wrote about the peculiar aspects of the Creed. Most importantly,

however, I highlighted the changing status of the musical Creed, set in relief against the

liturgical changes effected by Dominican and Franciscan reforms in the 13th century. The

mendicant liturgical changes solidified the association of non-Credo mass ordinary

movements with different ranks of feasts. This impulse of mass ordinary association,

which initially excluded the credo, was later extended to the new Credo compositions

which appeared in the 14th century and flourished in the 15th. These new Credo rubrics

led to named Credos, and I concluded that chapter with an exploration of the name of

one of the most prominent credos, the Credo Cardinalis.

In closing, I wish to outline a few areas for future research. Most notably, we still

lack a full and revised catalog of Credos. Miazga's 1976 catalog is a commendable

starting point, but he was limited to the sources and microfilm at his disposal. Recent

library and archival research in Italy, notably by Giacomo Baroffio and Marco Gozzi,

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have revealed dozens of new Credo discoveries. Discoveries of canto fratto music in

general, and Credos in particular, are also flourishing in Eastern European countries,

especially Silesian Poland and Bohemian Czech and Slovakia. A number of scholars

from those regions hope to collaborate and produce a fully online Credo catalog, linked

to the cantus database.10 Such a project would greatly help in establishing a chronology

of cantus fractus Credos, give an idea of how widespread the phenomenon was, and help

to ascertain the stability or instability of various credo chants.

Furthermore, although this dissertation has focused primarily on monophonic

chants, there remains much work to be done with polyphonic Credos. The possibility of

overlap between the canto fratto Credos and the polyphonic treatments of Credos by

later 15th-century composers remains tantalizing. We have a few clues in the rhythmic

treatment of Credo I as a cantus firmus and in the polyphonic settings of Credo

Cardinalis, but it is possible that the composers of those Credo movements were

influenced by the canto fratto Credos they were likely singing or hearing in worship

services. To a large degree, musicologists are only now discovering what the day-to-day

situation was for church musicians in late-medieval Europe. Researching the Credo in

10 This project was discussed at the conference “Rhythm in Music and the Arts in the Late Middle Ages,” organized by the Masaryk Institute and Archive of the Czech Academy of Sciences in collaboration with the Faculty of Arts, Charles University, Prague. It was part of the project “Old Myths, New Facts: Czech Music in Centre of 15th-Century Music Developments.” More information is available at the project website, http://www.smnf.cz/en/.

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monophonic and polyphonic music, as well as in its cultural importance, helps to

elucidate one important and pervasive aspect of their liturgical and musical lives.

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Appendix A: Ancient Creeds

Alcuin’s adversus Felicianus creed

Credimus et in Iesum Christum Filium Dei unigenitum, natum ex patre ante omnia saecula. Lumen de lumine, deum verum de Deo vero. Natum non factum, consubstantialem Patri, per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelo. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu sancto et Maria vigine et homo natus est. Crucifixus autem pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus. Et resurrexit tertia die et ascendit in caelum et sedet ad dexteram patris. Et iterum venturus est cum Gloria iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis.

Comparison of the texts of ancient Creeds

Greek Modern Vatican Edition Stowe Missal Paulinus of

Aquila

Early 8th century

MGH - acts of the council of Friuli; late 8th century

1 Πιστεύω εἰς ἕνα Θεόν

Credo in unum Deum

Credo in unum deum

Credo in unum Deum

2 Πατέρα, Παντοκράτορα

Patrem omnipotentem

patrem omnipotentem

patrem omnipotentem,

3 ποιητὴν οὐρανοῦ καὶ γῆς,

factorem caeli et terrae

factorem caeli et terrae

factorem caeli et terrae,

4 ὁρατῶν τε πάντων καὶ ἀοράτων.

visibilium omnium et invisibilium

uissiuilium omnium (et) uisiuilium

visibilium omnium et invisibilium.

5 Καὶ εἰς ἕνα Κύριον Ἰησοῦν Χριστόν

Et in unum dominum Iesum Christum

et in unum dominum nostrum iesum christum

Et in unum dominum Iesum Christum,

6 τὸν Υἱὸν τοῦ Θεοῦ τὸν µονογενῆ,

Filium Dei Unigenitum

filium dei unigenitum

filium dei unigenitum,

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7

τὸν ἐκ τοῦ Πατρὸς γεννηθέντα πρὸ πάντων τῶν αἰώνων·

Et ex patre natum ante omnia saecula

natum ex patre ante omnia saecula

(et) ex patre natum ante omnia saecula,

8 φῶς ἐκ φωτός, Θεὸν ἀληθινὸν ἐκ Θεοῦ ἀληθινοῦ,

Deum de deo, lumen de lumine

(deum de deo) lumen de lumine

Deum de deo, lumen de lumine,

9 Deum verum de deo vero

deum uerum de deo uero

deum verum de deo vero,

10

γεννηθέντα οὐ ποιηθέντα, ὁµοούσιον τῷ Πατρί,

Genitum, non factum, consubstantialem Patri

natum non factum consubstancialem patri

genitum, non factum, consubstantialem patri,

11 δι᾽ οὗ τὰ πάντα ἐγένετο.

Per quem omnia facta sunt

per quem omnia facta sunt

per quem omnia facta sunt,

12

Τὸν δι' ἡµᾶς τοὺς ἀνθρώπους καὶ διὰ τὴν ἡµετέραν σωτηρίαν

Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem

qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem

qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem

13 κατελθόντα ἐκ τῶν οὐρανῶν καὶ σαρκωθέντα

Descendit de caelis

discendit de caelo descendit de caelis

14 ἐκ Πνεύµατος Ἁγίου

Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto

et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto

et incarnatus est de Spiritu sancto

15 καὶ Μαρίας τῆς Παρθένου καὶ ἐνανθρωπήσαντα.

Ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est

et maria uirgine et homo natus est

et Maria virgine et homo factus est.

16 Σταυρωθέντα τε ὑπὲρ ἡµῶν ἐπὶ Ποντίου Πιλάτου,

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato

crugifixus autem pro nobis sub pontio pilato

crucifixus aetiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato,

17 καὶ παθόντα καὶ ταφέντα.

Passus, et sepultus est,

passus et sepultus(est)

Passus et sepultus est

18 Καὶ ἀναστάντα τῇ τρίτῃ ἡµέρᾳ κατὰ τὰς Γραφάς.

Et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas

et resurrexit tertia die secundum scripturas

et resurrexit tertia die secundum scripturas.

19

Καὶ ἀνελθόντα εἰς τοὺς οὐρανοὺς καὶ καθεζόµενον ἐκ δεξιῶν τοῦ Πατρός.

Et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris.

et ascendit in caelos et sedit a[d] dextram dei patris

(et) Ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram patris

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20 Καὶ πάλιν ἐρχόµενον µετὰ δόξης

Et iterum venturus est cum gloria,

et iterum uenturus (est) cum gloria

et iterum venturus est cum gloria

21 κρῖναι ζῶντας καὶ νεκρούς,

Iudicare vivos et mortuos

iudicare uiuos et mortuos

iudicare vivos et mortuos

22 οὗ τῆς βασιλείας οὐκ ἔσται τέλος.

Cuius regni non erit finis.

cuius regni non erit finis

cuius regni non erit finis.

23 Καὶ εἰς τὸ Πνεῦµα τὸ Ἅγιον, τὸ κύριον, τὸ ζῳοποιόν,

Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem:

et in spiritum sanctum dominum et uiuifactorem

Et in Spiritum sanctum, dominum et vivificantem,

24 τὸ ἐκ τοῦ Πατρὸς ἐκπορευόµενον,

Qui ex Patre Filioque procedit.

(qui) ex patre (filioque) procedentem

qui ex patre filioque procedit

25

τὸ σὺν Πατρὶ καὶ Υἱῷ συµπροσκυνούµενον καὶ συνδοξαζόµενον,

Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur:

(qui) cum patre et filio coadorandum et conglorificandum

qui cum patre et filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur,

26 τὸ λαλῆσαν διὰ τῶν προφητῶν.

Qui locutus est per prophetas

qui loqutus est per profetas

qui locutus est per prophetas.

27

Εἰς µίαν, Ἁγίαν, Καθολικὴν καὶ Ἀποστολικὴν Ἐκκλησίαν.

Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam.

et unam sanctam aeclesiam catholicam et apostolicam

Et in unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam.

28 Ὁµολογῶ ἓν βάπτισµα εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁµαρτιῶν.

Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum.

confeteor unum babtismum in remisionem peccatorum

Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum

29 Προσδοκῶ ἀνάστασιν νεκρῶν.

Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum,

spero resurrextionem mortuorum

et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum

30 Καὶ ζωὴν τοῦ µέλλοντος αἰῶνος. Ἀµήν.

Et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen.

et uitam futuri saeculi. Amen.

et vitam futuri saeculi. Amen.

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Appendix B: Reproductions of Early Plainchant Credos

Figure 49: Credo from the Bamberg Codex11

11 Facsimile from Die Handschrift Bamberg: Staatsbibliothek Lit. 6 (Münsterschwarzach: Internationale Gesellschaft für Studien des Gregorianischen Chorals, [1984]), 95v.

310

311

312

313

Figure 50: Credo from Berlin Staatsbibliothek cod. Theo. Lat. 40

314

315

Figure 51: The Greek Creed of Cologne, Stadtarchiv W. 105, from Huglo, “Origine de la mélodie.”

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Appendix C: Transcriptions of Canto Fratto Credos

This appendix present transcriptions of canto fratto Credos, most of which have

remained unedited until now. These editions are based on the manuscripts indicated in

the subtitle. I chose the manuscripts for clarity of presentation, text underlay, and

legibility. A full critical edition would require the comparison of available sources.

The transcription principles follow those of Marco Gozzi in his various

publications, especially on the Project RAPHAEL website (cantusfractus.org) and in the

anthology Cantus fractus italiano.12 Generally, breves are transcribed as whole notes,

semibreves as half-notes, minims as quarter notes.13 Bar lines are used for ease of

reading. Double barlines and tick marks are used when they are in the source. Ligatures

are read according to standard principles, and marked with a bracket. The text underlay

follows as closely as possible the source text underlay and spelling. Key signatures

reflect a staff flat in the source.

12 Cantus fractus italiano: un’antologia, ed. Marco Gozzi. Hildesheim: Olms, 2012. This collection of essays contains 128 cantus fractus pieces in transcription, including 13 Credos (several of them different versions of 2-voiced Credos). 13 In Credo M32 and M194 (both from Arezzo E) the values are halved in transcription: breves (which have tails in that source, making them look like longs) are transcribed as half notes, and semibreves as quarters. M450, in major prolation (three minims per semibreve), is transcribed with the perfect semibreve equal to the dotted quarter.

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Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem- fac to- rem- ce li- et

ter re- vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi si- -

8

bi li- um.- Et in u num- do mi- num- Ie sum- Chris tum- fi -

15

li- um- de i- u ni- gen- i- tum.- Et ex pa tre- na - an -

22

te- om ni- a- se cu- la.- De um- de De o- lu -

29

men de lu mi- ne- De um- ve rum- de de o-

36

ve ro.- Ge ni- tum- non fac tum- con sub- stan- ti- a- lem- pa tri- per

43

quem om ni- a- fac ta- sunt. Qui prop ter- nos ho mi- nes-

49

et prop ter- nos tram- sa lu- tem- de scen- dit- de ce lis.- Et

57

&b

Credo IMensural version from Vienna NB 15501, 57r

&b

&b

&b

&b

&b

&b

&b

&b

w w ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ œ œ

œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

w œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

318

in car- na- tus- est de spi ri- tu- sanc to.- Ex Ma ri- a- Vir -

63

gi- ne- et ho mo- fa ctus- est. Cru ci- fi- -

70

xus e ti- am- pro no bis- sub Pon ti- o- Pi la- to-

77

pas sus- et se pul- tus- est. Et re sur- rex- it-

86

ter ti- a- di e- se det- ad dex te- ram- pa tris.-

94

et it er- um- ven tu- rus- est cum glo ri- a- iu di- ca- re- vi -

102

vos- et mor tu- os- Cu ius- reg ni- non er it-

109

fi nis- Et in spi ri- tum- sanc tum- Do mi- num- et

116

vi vi- fi- can- tem.- Qui cum pa tre- et fi li- -

123

o si mul- a do- ra- tur- et con glo- ri- fi- ca- -

130

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œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ œ œ œ œ

œ œ ˙ w w ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

w w ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ w w œ œ ˙ ˙ w

w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œ w œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w

w ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

319

tur- Qui lo cu- tus- est per pro phe- tas.- Et un -

137

am sanc tam- ka tho- li- cam- et a po- sto- li- -

144

ca ec cle- si- am- Con fi- te- or- u num- bap tis- ma- in re -

151

mi si- o- nem- pec ca- to- rum.- Et ex pec- to- re sur- -

158

rec ti- o- nem- mor tu- o- rum.- Et vi tam- ven -

165

tu ri- se - cu li.- A -

171

men.- - - - - - -

176

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œ œ w œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ w œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

320

Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem- fac to- rem- ce li- et

ter re- vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et

8

in vi- si- bi- li- um- et in un um- do mi- num- Ie -

16

sum Chri stum- fi li- um- de i- un i- gen- i- tum.-

23

Et ex pa tre- na tum- an te- om ni- a- se cu- la.-

30

De um- de de o- lu men- de lu mi- ne- de um- ve rum- de

38

de o- ve ro- Gen i- tum- non fa ctum- con sub- stan- ti- -

45

a lem- pa tri- per quem om ni- a- fac ta- sunt. Qui prop ter- nos

52

ho mi- nes- et prop ter- no stram- sa lu- tem- de scen- dit- de

60

C&b

transcribed from Giunta Graduale 352rCredo "De Apostolis"

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˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

321

ce lis- et in car- na- tus- est de spi ri- tu- sanc to-

68

ex ma ri- a- vir gi- ne- et ho mo- fac tus- est. Cru -

75

ci fix- us- e ti- am- pro no bis- sub Pon ti- o- Pi la- -

83

to.- Pas sus- et se pul- tus- est. Et re sur- rex- it- ter -

90

ti a- di e- se cun- dum- scrip tu- ras.- Et as cen- dit-

98

in ce lum- se det- ad dex ter- am- pa tris.- Et i -

106

ter um- ven tu- rus- est cum glo ri- a- iu di- ca- re- vi vos-

114

et mor tu- os- cu ius- reg ni- non e rit- fi nis.- Et in

122

spi ri- tum- sanc tum- do mi- num- et vi vi- fi- can- tem:- qui ex

129

pa tre- fi li- o- que- pro ce- dit.- Qui cum pa tre- et fi li- -

137

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˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

2

322

o- si mul- a dor- a- tur- et con glo- ri- fi- ca- tur:- qui lo cu- tus-

145

est per pro phe- tas.- Et u nam- sanc tam- cath o- li- cam-

152

et a po- sto- li- cam- ec cle- si- am.- Con fi- te- or- u num- bap

159

tis ma- in re mis- si- o- nem- pec ca- to- rum.- Et ex pec- -

166

to- re sur- rec- ti- o- nem- mor tu- o- rum.- Et vi tam-

173

ven tu- ri- se cu- - li.-

181

A men.- - - - - - - -

185

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˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ

˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

323

Pa trem- om ni- pot- en- tem- fac to- rem- ce li- et ter re- vi si- -

bi li- um- om ni- um.- Et in vi- si- bi- li- um.-

8

Et in u num- do mi- num- Ie sum- Chri stum- fi li- um- de i- u ni- -

15

ge ni- tum- Et ex pa tre- na tum- an te- om ni- a-

22

se cu- la.- De um- de de o- lu men- de lu mi- ne.- De um- ver um-

28

de de o- ve ro.- Ge ni- tum- non fac tum- con sub- stan- tia- lem- pa -

35

tri- per quem om ni- a- fac ta- sunt. sunt. Qui prop ter-

41

nos ho mi- nes- et prop ter- nos tram- sa lu- tem- de scen- dit- de

48

ce lis.- Et in car- na- tus- est de spi ri- tu-

55

&

Credo 32transcribed from Arezzo E, f. 134v

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˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙b œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œb w

˙ ˙ ˙b ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œb ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙b ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ œb œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œb ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙b ˙

324

sanc to- - - - ex Ma ri- a- vir gi- ne- et ho mo-

61

fac tus- est. Cru ci- fix- us- et i- am- pro no bis- sub Pon ti- o-

67

Pi la- to.- Pas sus- et se pul- tus- est. Et re sur- re- xit-

73

ter ti- a- di e- se cun- dum- scrip tu- ras.- Et a scend- it-

80

in ce lum- se det- a dex ter- ram- pa tris.- Et i ter- um- ven-

86

tu rus- est cum glo ri- a- iu di- ca- re- vi vos- et mor tu- os- cu ius- re -

92

gni non e rit- fi - nis. Et in spi ri- tum- sanc tum- do mi- -

98

num et vi vi- fi- can- tem- qui ex pa tre- fi li- o- que-

104

pro ce- dit.- Qui cum pa tre- et fi li- o- si mul- a do- ra- -

111

tur et con glo- ri- fi- ca- tur.- Qui lo cu- tus- est per pro phe- tas- Et

117

&

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&

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˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œb œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œb ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ

˙ ˙b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œb

˙ œ œ œ œ ˙b ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ

˙ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

325

u nam- sanc tam- ca tho- li- cam- et a pos- to- li- cam- ec cle- si- -

124

am.- - Con fi- te- or- u num- bap tis- ma- in re mis- si- o- nem-

131

pec ca- to- rum.- Et ex pec- to- re sur- rec- ti- -

138

o nem- mor tu- o- rum.- Et vi tam- ven tu- ri- se cu- -

145

li.- A - - - - - - - -

153

men.- - - - - - - - -

160

&

&

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˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œb œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ w w ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ wb œ œ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ w œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ

˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ˙ w œ œ œb œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ w w

326

Pa trem- om ni- pot- en- - tem fac to- rem- ce li- et ter re-

vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- um.-

9

Et in u num- do mi- num- ie sum- chri stum fi li- um- de i- un i- -

16

gen i- tum- et ex pa tre- na tum- an te- om ni- a- se -

23

cu- la.- De um- de de o- lu men- de lu mi- ne- de um- ve rum- de de-

30

o ve ro.- Ge ni- tum- non fac tum- con sub- stan ti- a- lem- pa tri- per

37

quem om ni- a- fac ta- sunt. Qui prop ter- nos ho mi- nes- et

43

prop ter- nos tram- sa lu- tem- de scen- dit- de ce lis.-

49

Et in car- na- tus- est de spi ri- tu- sanc to- ex ma -

55

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Credo 113from Fribourg F3, f. 323r

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w w ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ

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˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ

œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

œ œ w ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ w œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ w ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ w

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w w ˙ ˙

327

ri a- vir gi- ne.- Et ho mo- fac tus- est. Cru ci- -

62

fi xus- et[ec

ici

--

amam]

- pro no bis- sub pon ti- o- py la- to- pas sus- et se -

70

pul - tus est. Et re sur- re- xit- ter ti- a- di e- se cun- dum- scrip -

76

tu ras.- Et a scen- dit- in ce lum.- Se - - - -

83

det- ad dex ter- am- pa tris.- Et i te- rum- ven tu- rus- est cum

90

glo ri- a- iu di- ca- re- vi vos- et mor tu- os.- Cu ius-

96

re gni- non e rit- fi nis.- Et in spi ri- tum- sanc tum- do mi- num-

104

et vi vi- fi- can- tem.- Qui ex pa tre- fi li- o- que- pro -

110

ce dit.- Qui cum pa tre- et fi li- o- si mul- ad o- ra- tur.- Et

117

con glo- ri- fi- ca- tur.- Qui lo cu- tus- est per pro phe- tas.-

124

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˙ œ œ w ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

˙ w œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ w w ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙

˙ w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ w ˙ œ œ

˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ

328

Et u nam- sanc tam- ca tho- li- cam- et a pos- tol- i- cam- ec cle- si- am.- Con -

130

fi- te- or- u num- bap tis- ma- in re mis- si- o- nem- pec ca- to- -

137

rum. Et ex pec- to- re sur- rec- ti- o- nem- mor tu- o- rum.- Et

144

vi tam- ven tu- ri- se cu- li.- A - - - -

151

- - - - - - - - - - -

158

men.- -

163

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œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ w

˙ Ó ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ w

329

Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem- fac to- rem- ce li- et ter re-

vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- um.-

8

Et in u num- do mi- num- Ie sum- Chri stum- fi li- um- de i- u ni- ge ni- -

15

tum. Et ex pa tre- na tum- an te- om ni- a- se -

22

cu- la.- De um- de de o- lu men- de lu mi- ne- de um- ve rum- de

29

de o- ver o.- Ge ni- tum- non fac tum- con sub- stan- ti- a- lem- pa -

36

tri per quem om ni- a- fac ta- sunt. Qui prop ter- nos ho mi- nes-

43

et prop ter- nos tram- sa lu- tem- de scen- dit- de ce -

50

lis. Et in car- na- tus- est de Spi ri- tu- Sanc -

56

&b

Credo M194"Credo Angelorum"

Arezzo E, f. 130r

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˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ w

˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ

w ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙

œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

w ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

330

to- Ex Ma ri- a- Vir gi- ne,- et ho mo- fac tus- est.

62

Cru ci- fi- xus- et i- am- pro no bis- sub Pon ti- o-

70

Pi la- to- pas sus- et se pul- tus- est. Et re sur- re- xit-

77

ter ti- a- di e- se cun- dum- Scrip tur- as.- Et a -

84

scen- dit- in ce lum,- se det- ad dex te- ram- Pa -

91

- tris. Et i te- rum- ven tu- rus- est cum glo ri- a- iu di- ca- -

98

re- vi vos- et mor tu- os- cu ius- re gni- non e rit- fi nis.-

105

Et in spi ri- tum- sanc tum- do mi- num- et vi vi- fi- can- tem- qui ex

111

pa tre- fi li- o- que- pro ce- dit.- Qui cum pa tre-

118

et fi li- o- si mul- ad o- ra- tur- et con glo- ri- fi- ca- tur-

125

&b

&b

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˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

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˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

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˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

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˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙

331

qui lo cu- tus- est per pro phe- tas.- Et u nam- sanc tam- ca tho- li- -

132

cam et a pos- to- li- cam- Ec cle- si- am.- Con fi- te- or- u -

139

num bap tis- ma- in re mis- si- o- nem- pec ca- to- rum.- Et ex -

146

pec to- re sur- rec- ti- o- nem- mor tu- o- rum.- Et vi tam- ven -

153

tu- ri- se cu- li.- A - - - -

160

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165

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œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ w ˙ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙

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˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙ ˙˙ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ W

332

Pa trem- om ni- po- ten- tem- fac to- rem- ce li- et ter re- vi si- bi- li- -

um om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- um.- Et in u num- do mi- num- no-

9

strum ie sum- chri stum- fi li- um- de i- u ni- gen- i- tum- et ex pa tre- na tum- an-

17

te om ni- a- se cu- la- de um- de de o- lu men- de lu mi- ne-

24

de um- ve rum- de de o- ve ro- ge ni- tum- non fac tum- con sub- stant i- a- lem-

32

pa tri- per quem om ni- a- fac ta- sunt. Qui pro pter- nos ho mi- nes-

40

et pro pter- no stram- sa lu- tem- de scen- dit- de ce lis- et in car- na- tus-

47

est de Spi ri- tu- san cto.- Ex ma ri- a- vir gi- ne- ma ri- a- vir gi- -

54

ne et ho mo- fac tus- est. Cru ci- fi- xus- e ti- am- pro no bis- sub pon ti- -

62

68&

Credo M450BSB Clm 9508 f. 286v

&

&?

&

&

&

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&

&

˙ ™ œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ ™ œ ™ œ œJ œ œj ˙ ™ œ œJ œ œj

œ ™ œ œj ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ œj

œ œj œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ œr œr œ œj œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ ™ œ œj

œ ™ œ œj ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ œJ œ œJ œ œJ œ œj œ œj ˙ ™œ œj œ œj œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ œ œj œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ œj œ ™ ˙ ™œ œj ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œj œ ™œ œJ œ ™ œ œj ˙ ™ œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œœœ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œj

œ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ ™ œ œJ œ œj œ œj

˙ ™ œ œj œ ™ œ œj ˙ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ œj

333

o py la- to- pas sus- et se pul- tus- est. Et re sur- re- xit- ter ti- a- di e- se-

70

cun dum- scrip tur- as.- Et a scen- dit- in ce lum- se det- ad dex ter- am-

78

pa tris.- Et i te- rum- ven tu- rus- est cum glo ri- a- iu di- ca- re- vi -

85

vos et mor tu- os- cu ius- re gni- non e rit- fi nis.- [Et] in spi

91

ri tum- sanc tum- do mi- num- et vi vi- fi- can- tem- qui ex pa tre-

98

fi li- o- que- pro ce- dit.- Qui cum pa tre- et fi li- o- si mul- a do- ra- tur-

105

et con glo- ri- fi- ca- tur- qui lo cu- tus- est per pro phe- tas.-

113

Et u nam- sanc tam- ka tho- li- cam- et a po- sto- li- cam- ec cle- si- am.- Con -

120

fi- te- or- u num- bap tis- ma- in re mis- si- o- nem- pe ca- to- rum- et ex pec- to-

126

re sur- rec- ti- o- nem- mor tu- o- rum.- Et

133

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œ œj œ œj œ œj œ œj œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œj œ œj

œ œj œ ™ œ œj œ œj ˙ ™ œ ™ œ œj œ œJ œ œj œ ™ œj œJ œJ œ œJ œ œJ

œJ œ œ œJ œJ œJ œJ œ œj œ œj œJ œ œj œj œ œ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™œ ™ œj œj œJ œ ™ œJ œJ œJ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œj œ œj œj ˙ ™ œ ™ œ œj

œj œ œj œj œj œj œ œ ™ œ ™ œj œj œj ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ œJ œJ œJ œ ™œ œJ œ œJ œJ œ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ œj œ œj œ œJ œ ™ ˙ ™ œj œ œJ œ œ ™ ˙ ™

œj œj œbJ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ œJ œ œJ œJ œ œJ œ œ ™ ˙ ™

œ œj œj œb œj œj œj œbJ œ œ ™ œ ™ œj œj œnJ œj œj œj œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ ™ œ ™œj œj œj œ œj œj œ œ ™ œj œj œj œj œ œj œj œ œ ˙ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™

œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™

334

vi tam- ven tu- ri- se cu- li.- A - - - -

143

men.- - - - - - - - -

149

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œ œ œ œj œ œ ™ œbJ œJ œJ œJ œJ œj ˙ ™ œJ œ œ œ œ ˙ ™ ˙ ™˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ ˙ ™ œ œ œ œ ™ œ ™ ˙ ™ œ œ œ œ œ w ™

335

Pa trem- - om ni- po- ten- tem- fac to- rem- ce li-

et ter re- vi si- bi- li- um- om ni- um- et in vi- si- bi- li- um-

9

et in u num- dom ni- num- no strum- ie sum- chri stum- fi li- um- de i-

16

u ni- gen- i- tum- et ex pa tre- na tum- an te- om ni- a- se -

21

cu- la- se cu- la.- De um- de de o-

27

lu men- de lu mi- ne- de um- ver um- de de o-

35

ver ro- - - - Ge ni- tum- non fac tum-

42

con sub- stant- i- a- lem- pa tri- per quem om ni- a- fa cta- sunt

49

qui prop ter- nos ho mi- nes- et pro pter- nos tram- sa lu- tem-

55

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Munich Clm. 23027 f. 5a.f.M628

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w ˙ ˙ w w ˙ ˙ w ˙ ™ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ w ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ w

œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w œ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ Œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ

œ œ œ ˙ w œ œ ˙ ™ œ Œ Ó w w w ˙ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ œj œ œJ œ w œ œ œ œ w w w

œ œ œ œ œ œ w w w œ œ œ œ w w

œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ ˙ ™ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙

˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

336

de scen- dit- de ce lis- et in car- na- tus- est de spi ri- tu-

60

sanc to.- Ex ma ria-

67

vir gi- ne- et ho mo- fac - - - -

77

tus- - - - est. A - - -

85

men.- - - - - - - - -

90

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˙ ™ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ™ œ ˙ ™ œ œ œ œ œ w œ œ œ œ

˙ ˙ w w w w w w w w w

œ œ w w w ˙ ™ œ œ w w w œ œ ˙

˙ ˙ ˙ ™ œ œ w w w

w w œ œ œ œ w w w

337

Appendix D: The Text of the Vernacular Creed from the Lay Folks Mass Book

Reherse this oft in thi thoght, To tho gosple be don for-gete hit noght; Som-where bisyde, when hit is done, Thou make a cros, and kys hit sone. Men oen to saie tho crede som tyme, When thai saie hore, loke thou saie thine; This that folouse in englishe letter, I would thou sayde hit for tho better. Bot thai say hore, say thou non ellis, Bot do forthe after, als this boke tellis.14 Here to loke thou take gode hede, For here is wryten thin englyshe crede. I trow in god, fader of might, That alle has wroght, Heuen & erthe, day & night, And alle of noght. And in ihesu that gods son is Al-onely, Bothe god & mon, lord endles, In him trow I; Thurgh mekenes of tho holy gast, That was so milde, He lyght in mary mayden chast, Be-come a childe; Vnder pounce pilat pyned he was, Vs forto saue, Done on cros & deed he was, Layde in his graue; Tho soul of him went in-to helle, Tho sothe to say; Vp he rose in flesshe & felle Tho thyrd day; He stegh til heuen with woundis wide,

14 Lay Folks Mass Book 18, ll. 193ff.

338

Thurgh his pouste; Now sittes opon his fader right syde, In mageste; Thethin shal he come vs alle to deme In his manhede, Qwyk & ded, alle that has been In adam sede. Wel I trow in tho holi gost, And holi kirc that is so gode; And so I trow that housel es Bothe flesshe & blode; Of my synnes, forgyfnes, If I wil mende; Vp-risyng als-so of my flesshe, And lyf with-outen ende.

339

Bibliography

Manuscripts and Sigla:

Manuscripts with monophonic Credos

In this section, I provide the abbreviations I use throughout this dissertation on the left, and the bibliographic shelfmark on the right. Where available I have provided the abbreviation from RISM and the Census-Catalogue of Manuscript Sources of Polyphonic Music (CCM). I also give the approximate date and how many monophonic Credos the manuscript contains.

Arezzo Cesa 1

Archivio Diocesano e Capitolare di Arezzo, Cesa 1 1275–1300, 2 Credos.

Arezzo D Pieve

Archivio Diocesano e Capitolare di Arezzo, D Pieve 13th c. with later additions, 5 Credos.

Arezzo E Archivio Diocesano e Capitolare di Arezzo, E Date unknown, 4 Credos.

Arezzo H Archivio Diocesano e Capitolare di Arezzo, H 14th c., 1 Credo.

Barcelona 911

Barcelona Biblioteca Central, 911 RISM: E-Bc M. 911 15th c., 2 Credos.

Barcelona 1325

Barcelona Biblioteca Central, 1325 16th c., 1 Credo.

Bologna Museo Medievale 518

Bologna, Museo Civico Medievale. 518 (“Corali”: These 4 large books used to be part of the collection of the Bologna Museo Civico Bibliographico Musicale but were given to the Museo Medievale sometime in the past 20 years.) 15th c., 1 Credo

Bologna Museo Medievale 537

Bologna, Museo Civico Medievale. 537 (“Corali”) 14th c., 3 Credos

340

Bologna Museo Medievale 599

Bologna, Museo Civico Medievale. 599 (“Corali”) 14th c., 1 Credo

Bologna Museo Medievale 614

Bologna, Museo Civico Medievale. 614 (“Corali”) 15th c., 1 Credo

Bologna Comunale A 956

Bologna Biblioteca Comunale, A 956 c. 1700, 5 Credos.

Bologna Lit. 12

Bologna, Museo internazionale e biblioteca della musica, Lit. 12 15th c., 4 Credos.

Bologna University 2893

Biblioteca Universitaria di Bologna, 2893 15th c., 1 Credo.

Cividale 35bis

Cividale Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 35bis 14th-15th c., 1 Credo.

Cividale 56 Cividale del Friuli Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 56 RISM: I-CF56 13th c., 1 Credo.

Cividale 58 Cividale del Friuli Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 58 RISM: I-CF58 14th c., 2 Credos.

Cividale 79 Cividale del Friuli Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 79 RISM: I-CF79; CCM: CivMA79 15th c., 3 Credos.

Erlangen 464 Erlangen Universitätsbibliothek, 464 RISM: D-ERu464; CCM: ErlU 464 15th c., 4 Credos.

Fribourg F3 Fribourg Bibliothèque des Cordeliers, Cord 3 (Olim F3) RISM: CH-Fco 3, FribA

341

14th C., 5 Credos.

Gorizia H Gorizia, Biblioteca del Seminaria Teologico Centrale, H 14th–15th c., 1 Credo

London 24687

London, British Library, 24687. 15th c., 2 Credos

Lucca 1061 Lucca, Biblioteca Statale, 1061 14th c., 1 Credo

Lucca 1465 Lucca, Biblioteca Statale, 1465 15th c., 1 Credo

Lucca 2645 Lucca, Biblioteca Statale, 2645 14th–15th c., 2 Credos

Lucca 2690 Lucca, Biblioteca Statale, 2690 15th c., 1 Credo

Modena Lat. 1005

Modena, Biblioteca Estense, Lat. 1005 15th c., 1 Credo

Modena Lat. 1009

Modena, Biblioteca Estense, Lat. 1009 14th–15th c., 3 Credos

Modena Lat. 1016

Modena, Biblioteca Estense, Lat. 1016 15th c., 1 Credo

Modena Lat. 1021

Modena, Biblioteca Estense, Lat. 1021 14th c., 2 Credos

BSB Clm. 9508

Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Clm. 9508 RISM: D-Mbs9508 1452, 4 Credos

BSB Clm. 14013

Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Clm. 14013 15th c., 2 Credos

BSB Clm. 23286

Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Clm. 23826 15th c., 5 Credos

342

BSB Clm. 23027

Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Clm. 23027 15th c., 2 Credos

Munich 155 Munich, Universitätsbibliothek 155 15th c., 1 Credo

Paris Lat. 1343

Paris, Bibliotheque National Lat. 1343 RISM: P1343 14th c., 1 Credo

Perugia Archivio Capitolare 16

Perugia, Archivio Capitolare 16 15th c., 2 Credos

Perugia San Pietro B

Archivio Storico di San Pietro B 15th c., 6 Credos

Pisa 219 Pisa, Biblioteca Cateriniana 219 15th c., 34 Credos

Pisa s.s. 6 Pisa, Biblioteca Cateriniana s.s. [no shelfmark] 16th c., 2 Credos

Pistoia 100 Pistoia, Archivio Capitolare 100 1326–1350, 1 Credo

Pistoia 486/100

Pistoia, Archivio Capitolare 486/100 1391–1400, 3 Credos

Pistoia B.8 Pistoia, Archivio Capitolare B.8 15th c., 6 Credos

Rome Angelica 1424

Rome, Biblioteca Angelica 1424 (olim T.7.11) “Bamberg Gradual” 14th c., 3 Credos

Rome BAV Bar. Lat. 657

Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Barbarini Lat. 657 RISM: I-RVat657 14th c., 3 Credos

343

Rome BAV Lat. 10654

Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Lat. 10654 14th c., 1 Credo

Rome BAV Lat. 9214

Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Lat. 9214 15th c., 1 Credo

Rome BAV Lat. 10769

Rome, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Lat. 10769 14th c., 1 Credo

Rome Bib. Naz. Farf. 33

Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale, Farf. 33 1514, 1 Credo

Rome Bib. Naz. 290

Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale, Mss. Varia 290 1391–1400, 3 Credos

Siena H.I.10 Siena, Biblioteca Comunale degli Intronati, H.I.10 RISM: I-Sc10 15th c., 3 Credos

St Gall 546 St Gallen Stiftsbibliothek, 546 RISM: CH-SGs546; St.G C 1507, 18 Credos

Vienna 5094 Vienna, Nationalbibliothek 5094 RISM: A-Wn5094; CCM: VienNB 5094 1450–1474, 4 Credos

Vienna 15501

Vienna, Nationalbibliothek, Mus.Hs.15501, “Kuttenberger Cantionale” RISM: A-Wn15501; CCM: VienNB Mus.15501 1509–1516, 6 Credos

Wrocław IF 422

Wrocław Biblioteka Uniwersytecka, IF 422 RISM: PL-WRu422 1351, 1 Credo

Wrocław R 3067

Wrocław, Biblioteka Uniwersytecka, R 3067 RISM: PL-WRu3067 15th c., 2 Credos

Latin Theoretical treatises on Thesaurus Musicarum Latinarum

344

Aaron, Petrus Libri tres de institutione harmonica; Petrus Aaron Florentinus ad Lectorem. Libri tres de institutione harmonica editi a Petro Aaron Florentino. [Corrigenda.] (Bononiae, In aedibus Benedicti Hectoris Bibliopolae Bononiensis, [1516?]. Reprint ed., New York: Broude Bros., 1978), ff. Iir–Iiiv. TML: AARIHCOR https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/16th/AARIHCOR

Anonymous X De minimis notulis Scriptorum de musica medii aevi nova series a Gerbertina altera, 4 vols., ed. Edmond de Coussemaker (Paris: Durand, 1864-76; reprint ed., Hildesheim: Olms, 1963), 3:413–15. TML: ANO10DEM https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANO10DEM

Anonymous Tractatus cantus figurati Tractatus et compendium cantus figurati (Mss. London, British Libr., Add. 34200; Regensburg, Proskesche Musikbibl., 98 th. 4o), ed. Jill M. Palmer, Corpus scriptorum de musica, vol. 35 (n.p.: American Institute of Musicology / Hänssler Verlag, 1990), 41–93. TML: ANO12TCF https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANO12TCF

Anonymous [De musica mensurate] P. Altman Kellner, "Ein Mensuraltraktat aus der Zeit um 1400," Anzeiger der Oesterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, philosophisch-historische Klasse 94 (1957): 73–85, 73–85. TML: ANOBRI https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANOBRI

Anonymous [Regulae contrapuncti] A-Salzburg, Erzabtei St. Peter, Bibliothek, Ms. b II 42, f. 334r-338v Anonymi Tractatus de cantu figurativo et de contrapuncto (c. 1430-1520), ed. Christian Meyer, Corpus scriptorum de musica, vol. 41 (n.p.: American Institute of Musicology / Hänssler-Verlag, 1997), 90–96. TML: ANORCPT https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANORCPT

Anonymous Modus cantandi in mensurabilus

345

Lorenz Welker, "Ein anonymer Mensuraltraktat in der Sterzinger Miszellaneen-Handschrift," Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 48 (1991): 255-281, 255–81. TML: ANOMOD https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/15th/ANOMOD

Rossetti, Biagio Libellus de rudimentis musices: Compendium musicae Biagio Rossetti, Libellus de rudimentis musices, ed. Albert Seay, Critical Texts, no. 12 (Colorado Springs: Colorado College Music Press, 1981), 1–60. TML: ROSLIB1 https://chmtl.indiana.edu/tml/16th/ROSLIB1

Sources in multi-volume editions:

ANF = Roberts, Alexander and James Donaldson, ed. The Ante-Nicene Fathers: Translations of the Writings of the Fathers down to A.D.325. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1950. Originally published 1885. 10 vol.

CMM = Corpus Mensurabilis Musicae. [Rome]: American Institute of Musicology. 1947–. 114 volumes.

Mansi = Mansi, Joannes Dominicus, ed. Sacrorum Conciliorum Nova et Amplissima Collectio. Paris: Expensis Huberti Welter, Bibliopolae, 1903. 53 vol.

MGH = Monumenta Germaniae Historica. Various publishers. 1826–.

NPNF = Schaff, Philip and Henry Wace, ed. A Select library of Nicene and post-Nicene fathers of the Christian church. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978–79. Originally published 1890–1900. Series I: 14 vol. Series II: 14 vol.

PL = Migne, J.-P. Patrologiae cursus completus … .Series Latina. Paris: Migne, 1844–65. 222 vol.

PG = Migne, J.-P. Patrologiæ cursus completus… . Series Graeca. Paris: Migne, 1857–66. 161 vol.

Secondary Literature and works in edition:

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Biography

Harrison Basil Russin graduated Phi Beta Kappa in 2005 with a Bachelor of Arts

degree in Music from Swarthmore College, where he was awarded the Peter Gram

Swing Prize for the outstanding graduate in music. In 2013 he received the Master of

Divinity Summa Cum Laude from St Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary and

graduated as valedictorian. He will graduate from Duke University in 2021 with a

Doctor of Philosophy degree in musicology. At Duke he has received a Summer

Research Fellowship, the A.J. Fletcher Graduate Fellowship in Music, and a Sixth-Year

Tuition Scholarship from the Graduate School. He is also the recipient of a Dean’s

Fellowship from St Vladimir’s Seminary, where he has taught on the music faculty since

2016.

His publications include “Organs in Orthodox Worship: Debate and Identity” in

the Journal of the International Society for Orthodox Church Music 4 (2020), and “The Bible

in Miniature: The Blasphemer and the Law in Leviticus 24:10–23,” in the Festschrift in

Honor of Paul Nadim Tarazi (St Paul: OCABS Press, 2020).