These books were in manuscript, and they had been written in the fourteenth or the fifteenth century. They seemed to have existed as long as the old house. They were kept in a little black ebony cabinet in a long room full of soft old colors.
There was a grand piano in the room, for the young ladies of the house played beautifully, and there was an organ for the use of the master of the house. The old music-books seemed suited to the room and to the organ.
I did not play any of the music. It would have been very difficult indeed to have done so, as the notation was not like ours, but it suggested many grave sweeping chords. Taking the chord of G major, for instance, I tried to see just how much the writer of this old music knew about it. Not a great deal; yet the Gregorian chant had been established, and in this music were various ideas which we have since developed.
Now the most interesting part of it all to me was certain queer little marks in the music. Here and there was a tiny f, which, as you know, meant what we now write as forte. There was a little t, or bt, meaning teneatur, or ben tenuto; a little c, meaning celeriter, or con moto, and so on.
I think the beginning of any art is interesting. All sorts of little shadowy suggestions of things that we have now in perfection seemed to me to lurk in those faded pages. As I put the books back in the ebony cabinet, and sat down by the wood fire, while B—— was drumming on the piano, I thought a great deal of the earnest, hopeful, patient old monk who had written it. And now, taking these little marks for my text, I want to tell you something about musical terms and signs.
Before you try to understand any great work like a symphony or sonata, you ought to thoroughly acquaint yourself with its very first principles. A great deal of hidden meaning lies in these simple little signs and terms.
That little f in the old music meant, as I say, forte, that is, loud, strong, as you know by its connection with the piano. The Italians called it fragor, and when you see it Fp, or fp, it means a quick, loud sound, suddenly subsiding into a piano or soft sound. Try the chord of A flat; it is a beautiful one, and you can best practice on it the fp.
The old teneatur, or tenuto, means that the note or chord should be sustained or held on to. I think this is best practiced at first in duets, for as you play you will see the effect of the tenuto on the notes your companion is playing, without having to worry yourself over holding the note properly, and playing with the other hand at the same time.
Con moto means with celerity or rapidity. Any gavotte music practices this.