Winterfeld, a German writer on musical matters, derives the word motett from “mot,” the French for “a word,” referring to the verse of Holy Scripture which constitutes a motett; whilst other learned men connect it with the Latin verb “movere,” indicative of the livelier motion and the briskness it possesses, when compared with the Cantus Fermus; and there is yet a third derivation from “mutare,” to change—a reference to the changing sentiments and emotional characteristics of these musical settings, a noticeable feature in such stiff and formal times.

At one time the motett was made up of a theme and its treatment in different variations, after the manner of the Spanish “moto” in poetry. Motetts were also set to profane words in the early periods of their history, and they were forbidden to be used in church in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

Dr. Stainer, in his “Dictionary of Musical Terms,” mentions the term “motett” as being synonymous with “pulpitre” in the fifteenth century, but for the last three hundred years the term has meant a piece of sacred music adapted to Latin words, and to be sung at high mass in the Roman Catholic Church, either instead of or as an addition to the offertory, which was to be set to the music of the plainsong. Motetts by Philip of Vitrisco date back as far as the year 1300. At the commencement of that century the motett became a much more living form, when represented by such composers as our English John Dunstable, the Flemish Du Fay, and others. Following these composers came the Netherlanders of Okenheim’s school, in the latter half of the fifteenth century, and they more definitely separated their motetts from the style of the masses in vogue.

In the latter there is a painful striving apparent, consequent on the feeling, almost of duty, that severe contrapuntal exhibitions must be displayed, whereas in the former there is breadth of style and general fitness of things, untrammelled by this artificiality.

In the sixteenth century the Flemish writers, headed by Josquin des Prés, made great moves onward, and gained the leading position in musical Europe by earnest work and pure and noble endeavours. They chose passages from the Gospels and the Book of Canticles for their motetts, and imbued them with characteristic individuality. At the same period the Lamentations of Jeremiah were largely drawn upon for subjects. In this and the fifteenth centuries we find a large collection of funeral motetts, named nœniæ, very reverent and beautiful. One by Josquin des Prés, founded on plain chant, and written in memory of his friend Okenheim (who was also his master), is very fine.

Petrucci, the father of type music printing, gave most of the earliest nœniæ to the world, many of which may be seen in the British Museum. In the middle of the sixteenth century motetts were, perhaps, influenced for good by the wonderful progress of the madrigal, but each part was written with a different text, and this confusion became an abuse. However, towards the latter part of the century that bright genius, Palestrina, proved himself to be as great a writer of motetts as he was of masses. He composed over three hundred to our knowledge, and in all probability there are more than that which have been lost. Cotemporary with this great light we find, in Italy, Morales, Anesio, Luca Marenzio, and, above all, Vittoria, who was almost as great a motett composer as Palestrina himself; in the Netherlands, Orlando di Lasso; in Venice, Willaert, and, later, Croce and the two Gabrielis.

Our English writers, Tallis and Byrd, whom we shall refer to again immediately, wrote as fine motetts as any produced by the foreign schools, under the title, “Cantiones Sacræ.” Dr. Tye, Dr. Fairfax, and others also added specimens to the English list. These motetts, as we shall see, became (after the Reformation) full anthems, which were in musical form motetts, but were set to English words. In some cases the English words are translations from the Latin. It is curious to find that Orlando Gibbons, in the seventeenth century, writing anthems for the church, christened his secular part-music “Madrigals and Motets,” thereby reverting to the old use of the term in connection with secular words only.

In the seventeenth century the motett still flourished in the Roman Church, but not for long, according to its old form. Mr. Rockstro attributes the downfall of the old motett to the invention, by Monteverde, of dominant unprepared dissonances, which “sapped the foundation of the Polyphonic School.”

Thus, after 1660 the motett was a composition in modern tonality and with orchestral accompaniments. Amongst composers in this style we find Scarlatti, Pergolesi, Durante, and others, followed later on by Keiser in Germany and Sebastian Bach, and then Graun, Hasse, and Hiller. Handel wrote motetts in his earlier years. In modern times, as I have had reason to point out to you in other forms, titles are appended to works which are, to say the least, inappropriate, and the only claim these have to the name motett is that they were originally intended to be sung at High Mass. Such are the “Insanæ et vanæ curæ” of Haydn, “Splendente te Deus” of Mozart, and the “O Salutaris” of Cherubini. The term “motetus,” given in early times to the medius or middle voice part, is probably in no way connected with the derivation of the word motett.

The motett form appears in Church music of Queen Elizabeth’s time, and although the anthem was gradually substituted, some of the earliest anthems after the Reformation were in motett style, especially those of Tallis and Byrd.