I consider that the stem of the reed was so adjusted and fitted in this hole that for playing the pipe a length suitable was obtained; and the reed may or may not have been enclosed in a bulb. I have hitherto spoken of the form as resembling a bulb, but to the Greeks it may have suggested a likeness to the silkworm cocoon, and so there was a double association of thoughts, and both these and the Etruscan flutes may have had the name Bombyx applied to them. We know in our own times how very diverse varieties of things rejoice in similarity in name, and trouble us by being presented under more names than one, as fashion, fancy, or locality determines.
Having described these ancient relics as regards their structure, the chief interest remains. Do we understand them as the Greeks understood them? I confess that they perplexed me for a long time. Often I looked at them, asking myself Why did they make them thus? What purpose had they? What motive? What advantage to gain beyond those sycamore flutes? I could not be content to regard them as curiosities only. I wanted to get at the root of the matter,—the because: the cause of being. I hung over these flutes, trying to drag the mystery out of them; and, after a time, being in the mood, the guidance came, and I went contentedly to sleep.
Before giving my solution of the problem it is necessary to make a few comments upon the Greek scales. If you would think as a Greek thought, you should dismiss from your mind all reference to our system of harmony, our key-note, foundation of the scale, or our division of the octave. For the points to which I have to call your attention, it seems desirable that you should now for comparison with the bronze flutes, refer to the illustration in the last chapter, of the sycamore flutes. Whatever the elaboration of the theory of music from Pythagoras to Ptolemy, the musical instruments of the period, so far as we have evidence in representations or in relics, do not assure us of the influence of theory to all pervading extent, in the ordinary practice of music. Certain rules which had grown up in the schools were necessarily adhered to, because accepted by the popular taste; or, rather, we may regard such general rules as the exposition of traditional measures, and methods of inflection and cadence, consecrated by usage. The demonstrations of the mathematics of music by the monochord was a fascinating pursuit of the philosopher; yet the value must have been more intellectual than practical.
In the Greek scales, the chief strangeness to us is that the keynote lays not at the beginning, but within the scale; and it was called the mese, or middle note. Nevertheless, its position was not always in the middle, but was shifted higher or lower in the octave according to the mode for the time employed. The scale originated in the tetrachord, and the octave resulted from the combination of two tetrachords; in the old system these were conjunct, and in the new system disjunct, and the two systems were exemplified in the octave lyre. The primary rule in the disjunct system was that the separation between the two tetrachords should consist of a whole major tone. Another rule insisted upon by every Greek writer was that there should be an interval of a whole tone, at least, immediately below the mese note; and, as Aristotle says, “Mese is the leader and sole ruler of the scale.”
I make no pretence of discoursing upon the Greek musical systems; all I desire is to fix your attention upon certain peculiar features unfamiliar to us, but upon which the structure of the flutes depended. I have previously alluded to the special importance of a curious interval of a minimum minor third, and maximum minor third, in the Greek measures, not our intervals.
The historic record, together with an exposition of the growth of these scales, and their bearing upon the development of the system of music, will be given in a later chapter.
Now look back at our mon-aulos; it has six holes, and is governed by the fingers of two hands, with the thumb added, and this is the first instance of the thumb being employed in flute playing. Now look at our Bombyx-plagiaulos (if such name be accepted), it has the same number of holes, and the thumb hole lying underneath between the upper two holes. One can understand how in the longer Bombyciæ (of which I shall have to discourse in the next chapter) there was an obvious advantage in having movable sections of a cylinder to shut off notes, simply for the reason that the fingers could not manipulate thirteen open holes. But the puzzle with the shorter Bombyx is that it shows no advance beyond the mon-aulos in the demand made upon the fingers, which could cover the holes as required, without any need to have particular holes shut off mechanically. I could not comprehend, and the question persistently arose, what was the utility of the new invention? Look at the relative positions of the two lowest holes of the mon-aulos; in each instrument the peculiarity of relation is noticeable, and yet there is a difference in each. Why? The conclusion I arrive at is that there is something traditionally imperative as to the unequal division of one tetrachord in the octave; that originally it was the lower tetrachord that was thus subject to custom; that afterwards more licence was taken, and, still subject to rule, there was choice as to where that tetrachord might be; and I find in the mechanism of the Bombyx a provision for the varied placings of this unequally divided interval. Here we see the meaning of the rule that the soft diatonic used an interval of a tone and a quarter, greater than a major tone and less than a minor third. In all these four instruments you will notice how one fourth is divided with a large interval in the upper section in one of each pair of instruments, and a short interval in the other, thus reversing the upper relation: and as regards the Bombyx flutes, there is a similar reversal of the distances between the three lowest holes from the bottom.
In the sycamore flutes, the fourth divided into two intervals occurs at the bottom from A♭ to D♭ in one, and alike in the other from B♭ to E♭. All other distances between holes are regular, so that this is the only position for the particular effect of only one intervening note. But in the silkworm flutes, there is the possibility of placing that special fourth in various positions of the range of holes, by covering the hole which exists, but is not wanted; not only that, but by rule excluded from the accident of use. Here, in both cases, the third hole from the bottom makes with the thumb hole the interval of a fourth, and with the top hole the interval of a fifth. At a guess, I should read the scale of the flute placed highest
A♯ B C♯ D♯ ⁔ F♯ G♯ A♯