Reconstructing a history of music and the practice of performing songs and musical pieces is especially problematic when civilisations have not passed on written forms of their musical creations or when a form of notation was used which cannot be fully understood today. In this context it is helpful to refer to alternative sources that can compensate for the lack of written exemplars in musical notation or help restore the context of production and use. These secondary sources include travel narratives, which can provide direct testimony to musical traditions.Footnote 1 However, we must consider their epistemological limitations: they relate the traveller’s experience and are transmitted to us through the filter of an individual’s eyes and ears. For today’s scholars, the travellers of the past become a cultural mediator, albeit an unconscious one, and with all the limitations that characterise the intermediators, insofar as they are the bearers of their specific cultural background.Footnote 2
For this reason, accounts written directly by the traveller, such as the one currently studied, should be differentiated both from those put into written form by a scribe, as in the case of Rustichello da Pisa for Marco Polo, and from those written by narrators from direct and indirect notes and testimonies of travellers, as in Mār Yahbh-Allāhā and Rabban Ṣāwmā, whose drafter remains anonymous.Footnote 3
Regarding the Middle Ages, several noteworthy travel diaries have contributed to our understanding of liturgical or musical practices in the Christian East and West. The best-known cases written by the travellers themselves are: for the Late Antique period, the journey of Egeria to JerusalemFootnote 4 (which preserves a description of the liturgy for Holy Week), and for the Middle Ages, the Liber Peregrinacionis or Itinerarium of Ricold of Montecroce, written between 1288 and 1291.Footnote 5 We should add the long journey of William of Rubruck to these two, of which a Latin report dictated to the scribe by William himself has survived.Footnote 6 Rubruck stayed in Armenia of Cilicia from 5 May to 12 June 1255, returning from his journey supported by Louis IX of France as an ambassador to the Mongol rulers.Footnote 7 The description, however, contains no information of musical interest.Footnote 8
In this article, Wilbrand, as traveller and author of the travel chronicle, provides us with the sounds and songs of the lands he passed through, especially in the section aimed at diplomatic intentions and several interesting points regarding the day of Epiphany.Footnote 9 These elements of Armenian culture were considered salient to an educated religious and diplomatic scholar of the early thirteenth century and deserved to be conveyed to the likes of Otto IV and his entourage. In particular, for the rite celebrated in aurora by the Armenian clergy of Cilicia with the Greek clergy, their patriarch, the king and his entourage, the Itinerarium offers a potential and unexpected testimony of discant practice.
The author: biographical notes and historical context
Wilbrand was born into a noble Germanic family in the second half of the twelfth century. Son of Henry II, Count of Oldenburg (1167–1198), and Beatrice of Hallermund, he embarked on an ecclesiastical career at a young age, becoming canon of the cathedral chapter of Hildesheim in 1211. Connected to the political circles of the empire’s high officials and the religious groups that supported the emperor, he travelled to the Holy Land from 1211 to 1213 on diplomacy and pilgrimage. Upon return, he continued his work as a canon, becoming prior of Hildesheim in 1218. Sent to Paderborn in 1225, he administered the dioceses of Münster and Osnabrückt between 1226 and 1227 and was consecrated Archbishop of Utrecht in 1227. He died in Zwolle in July 1233 and was buried in the abbey of St Servaas in Utrecht.Footnote 10
Even as a young man, Wilbrand had close ties with the high aristocracy of the Holy Roman Empire, and these relationships were especially warm with the entourage of Otto IV. Hence came the invitation to undertake a journey that combined a pilgrimage to the Holy Land with an ambassadorship to the Armenian court of Cilicia, recently recognised as a kingdom by both the imperial authority and the Church of Rome.
In 1195, Leo II, Rubenid prince of Lesser Armenia,Footnote 11 asked Emperor Henry VI and Pope Celestine III that his principality be granted the dignity of a kingdom. Following lengthy negotiations between the Armenians and the Church of Rome, on 6 January 1198 Leo was crowned Leo II King of Armenia in the presence of the papal legate Konrad von Wittelsbach, archbishop of Mainz, and the imperial chancellor, Konrad von Querfurt, bishop of Hildesheim. This operation strengthened the influence of the Germanic rulers in the Middle East. Later, Leo II sent another embassy to the West so that Innocent III – consecrated pope on 22 February 1198, and who had crowned Emperor Otto IV in 1209 – would grant the principality of Antioch to his nephew Raymond-Roupen, a crown he then obtained in 1211.
Wilbrand’s voyage occurred within this context of relations and consolidation of ties among the papacy, German sovereigns and the Armenian kingdom of Cilicia. Indeed, his itinerary adhered perfectly to the new Germanic diplomatic policy.Footnote 12
The travel chronicle
The Itinerarium Terrae Sanctae is a significant source regarding the political, military and ecclesiastical affairs of the recent Christian kingdom of Lesser Armenia, Cyprus and territories such as Palestine, Lebanon and Syria, characterised by the coexistence of different peoples and religions.
The text is divided into two parts: the first of thirty-two chapters and the second of fourteen. The former reports on the ambassadorship, while the latter recounts the pilgrimage to the Holy Land – unfinished because it ends abruptly in the oldest surviving manuscript from the thirteenth century,Footnote 13 from which other sources derive.Footnote 14
The two parts differ in style, most likely due to the distinct purposes of the journey. The ambassadorial narrative is characterised by attention to the geographical aspects of the places, described briefly, but with consistently appropriate and nuanced vocabulary. The geomorphological and topographical description of the cities is accompanied by notes on demographics and religious composition, as in the case of Acre where Wilbrand reports on its peoples: Latins, Greeks, Syrians, Jews, Jacobites and Franks. For the Syrians, he specifies that they ‘use Saracen for everyday speech and Greek for Latin’ but ‘are Christians and obey the law of Paul, like the Greeks’.Footnote 15 In contrast, for the Franks he explains that this term is used with the common meaning applied in overseas territories: ‘all those who observe Roman law’.Footnote 16 For Tripoli, he notes the coexistence of Christians, Jews and Saracens, while for Antioch he speaks of Franks, Syrians, Greeks, Jews, Armenians and Saracens. These demographic notes are accompanied by architectural descriptions that depict Wilbrand’s admiration for urban architecture, of which the palaces of Beirut, Tripoli and Antioch are noteworthy expressions.Footnote 17
He also demonstrates ethnographic interests directed mainly at religious faith, albeit with certain folkloric traits; for example, when he describes in detail the feast of the day of Epiphany celebrated in Sis (the capital of the Armenian kingdom of Cilicia), the main focus of this article.
The proem begins with the usual declaration of humility regarding the writing style employed, a rhetorical device that is contradicted from the first pages of the account. The author, in fact, received extensive training in classical texts, as is evident from the numerous quotations from Latin and Greek authors that mark the first part of the Itinerarium.
The second part of the volume is different as the texts quoted are taken from scripture and the descriptive passages are more condensed. Nevertheless, the report of the pilgrimage is of great interest because it provides an account of the sanctuaries and, above all, conveys the conditions and itinerary of the visit through Galilee and Judea established by the Arab-Muslim authorities after the agreement in 1192, according to which unarmed Christian pilgrims could pass through Muslim territories to reach Jerusalem.Footnote 18
The sounds of the ambassadorship
Wilbrand journeyed in the company of Hermann von Salza (c.1170–1239), his Thuringian colleague, who had recently been appointed Grand Master of the Teutonic Order.Footnote 19 The monastic-chivalric order established itself in the Holy Land for military and hospitaller purposes during the Third Crusade (1189–1192). It owned the castle of Amuda in Cilicia and a residence in Cumbetefort.Footnote 20 Also travelling with them was a delegation from Leopold VI, Duke of Austria, who had become a crusader in 1208.
Departing from some southern Italian port around mid-July, they arrived in Acre on 25 August 1211 after six weeks of navigation. This marks the beginning of the itinerary to reach the Armenian kingdom of Cilicia, a journey by sea and land that led them through various places from Lebanon to Syria. After reaching the ambassadorial destination, Wilbrand, Hermann and Duke Leopold’s envoys stayed in the region from late autumn 1211 until spring 1212. After eighteen weeks and obtaining leave from the king of Cilicia, the group returned to Acre via the island of Cyprus, thus beginning their pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Wilbrand’s attention during the journey was also devoted to sound in various spaces, at least those that the young canon found fascinating. Arriving in Beirut, he points out:
In one of them, which is being newly built, we saw a very ornate hall … It is strong from the foundations and well sited, overlooking on one side the sea and the ships passing to and fro on it, and on another meadows, orchards and most delightful places. It has a delicate marble pavement, simulating water agitated by a light breeze, so that whoever walks on it imagines himself to be wading, although his footprints have made no impression on the surface of the sand represented there. The walls of the house are covered all over with marble panels, which by the subtlety of their workmanship imitate various curtains. Its vault is painted so particularly the colour of the sky, that there the clouds appear to scurry, there the Zephyr to blow, and there the sun to define the year and months, the days and weeks, and the hours and seconds by its movement in the zodiac … In the middle of the hall, at the central spot, is a pool lined with variegated marble, in which the marble is put together from panels of different colours, which do not jar when a thumb is drawn across them. They represent innumerable varieties of flowers, which, when the eyes of beholders strive to separate them out, mock them and disperse. In the centre a dragon, which seems about to devour the animals depicted there, emits a jet of crystalline water, pouring it forth in such an abundant quantity that in hot weather, dissolving on high, it may humidify and cool the air, which is let in through fair rows of windows on every side. The same water, resonating [perstrepens] throughout the pool and being received into the slenderest of channels, lulls to sleep by agreeable murmurings [blando murmure] its lords who sit near by. I would willingly sit by it for all my days.Footnote 21
This is the only mention of ambient sound, which enhances the artistic and extraordinary value of the place and its ability to instil soporific relaxation.
The other musical indications concern liturgical chant. This was a sensitive issue during the diplomatic trip to the fledgling kingdom of Cilician Armenia, as there was a need to verify the loyalty of the Rupenids in adherence to the liturgy of Rome.
The first reference to music comes from the German ambassadors themselves: having arrived in Tyre, Wilbrand recalls that amid the mountains of Lebanon was born ‘sweet limpid water in wonderful quantities to irrigate the gardens which are beautifully laid out at its foot beside the walls’; this spring ‘propels nine mills for the convenience of the city’.Footnote 22 Having reached the source and inspired by the text of the Song of Songs,Footnote 23 Wilbrand writes: ‘we chanted [decantavimus] vespers and the same antiphon, Fons ortorum’.Footnote 24 The passage is of twofold interest. On one side, it is useful to establish temporal and geographical coordinates of the journey: the mentioned antiphon was sung, according to the liturgical calendar of the Western Church, on the occasion of certain feasts of Mary such as the Assumption, celebrated on 15 August, and the Nativity, celebrated on 8 September, a date plausible with the presence of the ambassadors in Tyre and around the spring.Footnote 25 On the other, the passage shows the Roman Church’s practice of singing the Divine Office, in this specific case Vespers, with chants dedicated to the feast of the day for each of the liturgical Hours. The author does not specify the dialect of chant sung, but it is certainly the Romano-Frankish repertoire in plainchant, by then standardised and established, apart from local variants, just as much as the rites, celebrations and all ecclesiastical procedures prescribed by the so-called Romano-German Pontifical.
Although not explicit, Wilbrand also implies the use of chant in passage I.17, in which he describes Armenia and its people:
It is inhabited by Franks, Greeks, Syrians, Turks and Armenians; however, the Armenians alone have dominion over the others. They are strongly religious and the best of Christians, observing the law given to them by the lesser Gregory. They do not err in faith. They recite the psalms and the other holy offices in their native language.Footnote 26
In Wilbrand’s description, his political and diplomatic perspective again shines through. It aimed to verify and then attest that the Armenian kingdom of Cilicia – recognised by the empire and the Western Church just ten years earlier – was respectful of the Western liturgy and therefore not liable to prosecution for heresy. From the musicological perspective, the annotation is extremely significant. In recording the Armenian people’s observance of the Christian creed, it also adds the recitation of the psalmsFootnote 27 and other ‘divina officia’, that is, the Mass in addition to the Liturgy of the Hours,Footnote 28 all rites that in Western liturgy – with respect to which the Cilician Armenian was declared uniform – involve musical intonation.
Specific attention should also be paid to the statement that they employ their mother tongue (Materna lingua recitant psalmos et alia divina officia), which refers to the local tradition of the rite and thus to the Eastern and probably more specifically Armenian repertoire of Cilicia.Footnote 29 The use of Armenian is also attested later in the liturgy of the day of Epiphany, where Wilbrand writes that they recite epistles and gospels in Greek and Armenian.Footnote 30
The use of the verb recitare should also be emphasised. Referring to the Divine Office, the choice of the verb seems to refer to the performative mode that the Western liturgy reserved for epistles and gospels with the chanted intonation of the texts, with specific books and ecclesiastical figures dedicated to their intoned recitation, usually the subdeacon and deacon.Footnote 31 The verb is used within the account on only three occasions: once alongside the practice mentioned earlier relating to psalms and divina officia, the other two referring explicitly to the performative act of the gospels and epistles.Footnote 32
The Armenians’ celebration of Mass and Office is also reported on the eve of Epiphany, a feast described in every detail and to which King Leo II invited the Germanic ambassadors:
The feast of the Epiphany (of which I promised above that I would speak), to which the lord king had invited us was celebrated by the Armenians in this way. During the twelve preceding days, which we spend in enjoyment and banquets, they spend in honour of their feast in penitence and fasts, abstaining from fish, wine and oil. On the holy eve itself, they abstained from these things all day, so that after dusk they might celebrate masses and while away the whole of that night in the divine offices without sleeping. On the day itself they celebrate the feast of the Lord’s Nativity, saying that on that one and self-same – and indeed, more distinguished – day the Lord had been born and, after His thirtieth year, baptised.Footnote 33
The feast of the day of Epiphany in aurora
The description of certain elements of the Epiphany in aurora reveals the deeply Germanic culture, rooted in the classical world, of Wilbrand’s imagery:
The morning over and done, everyone hurried to a river near the town, to which the lord king was going down in the following manner. He was seated on a tall horse and was flanked by the master of the house of the Germans and the castellan of Silifke [Seleph], a Hospitaller, with their companions, religious knightly men. Lord Rupen, the younger king, whom, as I have said, Otto, the emperor of the Germans, had recently crowned at the request of the senior king, was following him with the nobles of that land and many knights splendidly attired. Their servants, each bearing a standard or banner in his hands and leading their horses adorned with trappings, were preceding the senior king. Between them and the king, many armed sergeants were running around on foot to guard the king, who was saluted by all those standing near by with a huge shout [cum ingenti clamore salutabatur], Subtacfol!, or ‘Sacred king!’ And thus he went down in a great [procession] to his area, which had been set out on the bank of the river already mentioned.Footnote 34
Wilbrand’s account might link the subjects’ cries of sacred acclamation for the king to the laudes regiae. Footnote 35 The acclamations, beginning with the Carolingians, affirmed the divine origin of the sovereigns’ civil power and, through song, expressed their cult.Footnote 36 The reference to practices of salutation and acclamation of the subjects towards the sovereign – here flanked by the master of the Alemanni, the castellan of Seleph belonging to the order of the Hospitallers and his son, newly legitimised by the western emperor – induces the reader to connect this practice to the one in use in Byzantine imperial ritual. De Ceremoniis by Constantine Porphyrogenitus and the late Byzantine treatise of George Kodinos described such ceremonials in detail.Footnote 37 It is plausible, therefore, that Wilbrand was also familiar with it, not from direct personal experience but from the established tradition in the East, also known to the Latin West. For the celebration of Epiphany, in particular, Chapter 3 of the protocol in De Ceremoniis mentions several stichera, with their respective echoi, and who was to sing them, and ended with the collective responsory acclamation with a soloist and the people responding.Footnote 38
The narration continues:
The Greeks and their patriarch were following afterwards on foot, equipped with many reliquaries. They were marching along with such a noise of trumpets and other musical instruments that they seemed to be displaying more pomp than the procession. They too awaited the others in a place allotted to them on the river bank.Footnote 39
This description of the procession of the Greek patriarch and entourage, including the use of musical instruments, can be traced back to the pageantry that characterised the ceremonies of the ancient rulers. It began in the Hellenistic era in the form of the pompē and the emperors of the Holy Roman Empire and their political authorities drew inspiration from them.Footnote 40 Therefore, Wilbrand recognised this ritual as a legacy of the Roman EmpireFootnote 41 – of which he presented himself as a potential heir and political representative as a diplomat of Otto – and similar to the well-known imperial Byzantine ceremonial.Footnote 42
The most interesting musical element, however, is in the procession of the Armenian clergy:
Then finally the clergy of the Armenians went down with their archbishop, labouring appropriately under the weight of the cross that was to be baptised. I would have praised enough their humility and their fitting procession had not a certain priest, distinguished by a long beard like the others, inauspiciously interrupted it. While crossing with insufficient care a small stream that flowed into the river already mentioned, he lost a shoe, which fell of this foot; and in retrieving it, while he was pulling it out of the water he laboured so indifferently that he held up the bishop and the others. The clergy of Hildesheim would have corrected very severely a negligence of this kind if by chance it had happened in their own procession! Still, they took up their position and place to stand on the aforementioned river. When the processions had thus all come together, we saw them singing from this side and that and their long beards, which covered their chests like a river in spate, labouring with a great noise.Footnote 43
The narrative is of considerable interest. Apart from the shoe incident that departs from the lavishness of the procession, Wilbrand renders a precise image of the procession of singing Armenian priests. Indeed, the canon does not use the verb decantare, as on another occasion (I.2), but chooses the verb discantari, which refers to an unwritten practice of singing with several voices. He may be referring to the Eastern Church’s use of two choirsFootnote 44 singing the liturgy chants in antiphonic form, that is, alternating, not necessarily in polyphony. In this case, the text’s hinc inde should be seen in relation to the verb discantari, such as in Pringle’s interpretation found in his English critical edition.Footnote 45
However, several musical theoretical references support the interpretation of the verb discantari as a practice of simple polyphony. The anonymous Tractatus de musica Footnote 46 dated between the late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries,Footnote 47 describes discantus as a polyphonic practice. In the thirteenth-century Tractatus de discantu,Footnote 48 the anonymous author groups polyphony from two to five voices under the term discantus. The choice of the term, therefore, does not seem accidental considering that Wilbrand selects the verbs indicating a musical performance with care: decantare for antiphons and thus singing during the Office of the Hours, recitare for the intonation of psalms and especially epistles and gospels during Masses, discantari only on this occasion.
The hinc inde might refer to the construct of the ablative absolute that opens the sentence: ‘As the processions here and there converged in one place, we saw them discant and strain, their mouths so wide open, their long beards covering their chests like pleanaria.’ Here, the verb discantari, used exclusively at this moment of the ceremony, may have been employed with reference to a form of chanting with several voices, customary in the Western church and understood by the author. The testimony of the discant, heard on the most solemn ceremony for the Armenian Church and kingdom of Cilicia, would seem performed here with the rhetorical intention of liturgical amplicatio, that is, to emphasise the greater significance of the festivity. This phenomenon would be observed across many ages and musical genres, from Notre Dame polyphony to Constantinopolitan kalophoniaFootnote 49 and also reported, for the Byzantine East, by Odo de Deuil. The monk, associated with the abbey of Saint Denis, likely arrived in Constantinople with the entourage of Louis VII of France on 4 October 1147 on occasion of the second crusade led by the king, writes:
Since the Greeks celebrate this feast,Footnote 50 the emperorFootnote 51 knew of it, and he sent over to the kingFootnote 52 a carefully selected group of his clergy, each of whom he had equipped with a large taper decorated elaborately with gold and a great variety of colours; and thus he increased the glory of the ceremony. These clergy certainly differed from ours as to words and order of service [verborum et organi genere], but they made a favourable impression because of their sweet chanting; for the mingling of voices, the heavier with the light, the eunuch’s, namely, with the manly voice (for many of them were eunuchs), softened the hearts of the Franks. Also, they gave the onlookers pleasure by their graceful bearing and gentle clapping of hands and genuflexions.Footnote 53
The passage from Odo of Deuil is interesting because it contextualises the emperor’s dispatch of a select group of his clergy for an amplificatio of the rite (sollemnitatis gloriam ampliavit), rendered by the decorated candles that each priest carried, but also by their musical performance. They differed in verborum et organi genere (the style of texts and simultaneous vocal lines?) that mixed male voices with the higher-pitched voices of the eunuch singers (voces mixtae … eunucha … cum virili).
Wilbrand’s testimony suggests a hypothesis that the Armenian Church in Cilicia also used forms of simple polyphony, previously unattested.Footnote 54 This does not mean that this discantari had the form of note against note that characterised the Christian cantus planus binatim. Quite simply, the use of the verb discantari refers to the addition of a second voice with unspecified characteristics. The lack of description suggests that this second voice did not surprise the narrator as to merit a more detailed annotation in the travel account. The verb discantari chosen by Wilbrand could indicate an unwritten added voiceFootnote 55 if read from the perspective of the oral praxis that might appear unique in the Eastern chant tradition.Footnote 56 The evidence of this ‘binatim’ performance practice would complement the traditional Armenian liturgy, regarded as monodic based on written notation by various scholars such as Kušnarev.Footnote 57 This notation, consisting of neumes known as khazes,Footnote 58 has survived in many manuscripts, mostly preserved at the Matenadaran (the Scientific Research Institute of Ancient Manuscripts in Yerevan, Armenia), but the hypotheses put forward do not satisfy all scholars in the field.Footnote 59 Such a reading seems in line with the Byzantine/Eastern practice of isokrates performed by vastaktes, the holders of the drone, attested in MS Athos Iviron 1120, written in 1458 by Manuel Chrysaphes.Footnote 60 The reference to a form of a simple polyphonic practice implied by the verb discantari is also plausible in relation to a particular type of tagh (hymn). This consisted of the performance of a soloist of outstanding ability with a single or double chordal pedal note that often required modulating melodic passages of considerable complexity.Footnote 61 This type of multi-voice performance also finds further comparison in ethnomusicological studies that have testified to the use of certain Armenian songs with false bordone notes.Footnote 62
The image of the effort by the Armenian clergy of Cilicia is made even more vivid by the description of the long beards that move with the movements of the singers’ mouths. These long beards, which attract the author’s attention, cover the singers’ chests ‘sicut quedam plenaria’. The expression, which translated means ‘like something immense’, was freely transposed by Pringle as ‘like a river in spate’, referred either to persons, according to De Sandoli (le loro lunghe barbe che coprivano, come ad alcuni, completamente il petto), or else was completely ignored, for example, by Delpech-Voisin (leurs longues barbes déployées qui couvraient leurs poitrines). However, Wilbrand’s subsequent narrative suggests another possible translation that interprets the expression sicut quedam plenaria (‘in the same way as the plenary missals’), referring to the liturgical books containing the gospels and epistles, which the cantors likely carried. The story continues: ‘Reciting the gospels and epistles in Greek and Armenian and blessing the simulated River Jordan, they baptised the cross that they had brought there and released from that vortex a dove.’Footnote 63 Using the verb recitare for the Gospel and the epistles also implicitly involved cantillation of the sacred scriptures.Footnote 64 In the Eastern liturgy, a form of cantillatio based on melodic formulas modelled on the syntactic structure of the text had developed following Jewish tradition, or at least in parallel, and the oratorical art of rhetoricians and sophists.Footnote 65 This also led to the development of different forms of notation for the intonation of holy scriptures (ekphonetic notation),Footnote 66 and of psalms and hymns (melodic notation).Footnote 67 Especially in the years of the kingdom of Cilicia, the Armenian Office and rites had been completely systematised with new and specific neumes (khazes) for chanting the Gospel, hymn books, the breviary, the missal, the Typikon (corresponding to the Ordinary book of the Western Church) and rituals performed outside the church such as baptisms, engagements and weddings.Footnote 68
The solemnity of the moment, with the dove symbolising the Holy Spirit emerging from the water during the baptism of the cross, recalling Christ’s baptism, also evoked the Christian character of the king who participated in the ritual, his spiritual authority and the desired theocratic power. That wish also conveyed the meaning of the acclamations that preceded the concluding acts of the procession:
Then someone, going down on a donkey into the middle of the river and standing upright, proclaimed from the frothing whirlpool, ‘May our king live for ever!’; and again, ‘May he be vigorous and strengthen all Christendom!’ Everyone, hanging on his words, replied, ‘Amen!’ then the precentorFootnote 69 was pushed into the water, which was done not without the laughter of many. After that the king and others were sprinkled with the same water. The Syrians, however, washed themselves completely naked. When these things had been properly concluded, the clergy hastened to their monasteries and the king and knights to the fields, where they engaged in military games, running about on bedecked horses and smashing lances to pieces. They spent that whole day thus in great merriment; and the next day each returned to his own home.Footnote 70
At the climax of the processional liturgy, the precentor conducts the praises of the sovereign. He was a leading figure, a clergyman who functioned as ceremonial master and first chorister, intoning the chants and leading the other singers. Wilbrand writes that everyone hung on his every word – that is, on what he said (according to use of the word preceptor) or intoned (according to use of the word precentor) – and that they responded to him chorally with ‘Amen’.Footnote 71 He performed preparatory action to his role and the performative act of proclamare, expressed with the formula zucarato gurgite. The expression is translated in different languages as ‘the frothing whirlpool’ (Pringle), avec un beau bagout (Delpech-Voisin) and con voce dolce (De Sandoli). The versions by Delpech-Voisin and De Sandoli adopt the term zuccharato gutture proposed in Laurent’s 1873 critical edition. The phrase is explained in the same edition in a footnote: the choice of gutture, instead of gurgite in the older manuscript,Footnote 72 is justified as quod e coniectura correximus; while the term zuccharatum is explained as quasi saccharum conditum et mollitum erat gutturum. Footnote 73
Given the preceptor/precentor role, Laurent’s notes deserve further comment. The term zucarato definitely refers to the term zuccharatum and thus to the noun sacchăron, a lemma in the Lewis and Short Latin dictionary.Footnote 74 In the same way, the term gurgite should be traced back to the verb gurgĭto Footnote 75 and the noun gurges Footnote 76 for which Lewis and Short suggest the term gŭla,Footnote 77 which leads to a comparison with the lemma guttur, guttŭris. The expression zucarato gurgite can be accepted in the critical edition, as in Pringle, but should be translated by the expression ‘he sweetens his throat’, or ‘he clears his voice’ as a preliminary action to the final solemn acclamations.
At the end of the proclamation, the preceptor/precentor, evoking the baptism in the Jordan with his fall into the water, performs a material and bodily rite of renewal of the baptismal promises, although Wilbrand’s reported laughter and the push into the water partly ridicule the scene. Only after the immersion of the cross and the precentor in the river are the king and others present sprinkled with the same holy water.
Participation in the procession on the day of Epiphany was the last act of Wilbrand’s ambassadorship; as he writes: ‘After the feast had been celebrated and permission had been granted to us by the lord king, who saw us off with great honour, we came to Anavarza’Footnote 78 first destination on the return journey to Acre, from where the group would begin their pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
In conclusion, Wilbrand’s Itinerarium demonstrates once again the effectiveness of travel literature as a source for the survey and study of polyphonic practices in the Middle Ages. This knowledge is still rather fragmentary and, to a large extent, incomplete. In terms of a traditional idea of a Euro-centric Middle Ages, this is especially true for outlying areas, of which Armenian Cilicia constitutes a fundamental piece in a history of medieval music that aspires to be global.