The restoration of plainchant in the nineteenth century has been widely studied from both the historic and paleographic standpoints, as well as for the influence it exerted on contemporary musical composition. Its historical aspects, as well as its theoretical and aesthetic principles, have been the subjects of numerous articles and monographs, most notably by Dom Pierre Combe,Footnote ¹ and more recently, Katherine Bergeron,Footnote ² Jacques ViretFootnote ³ and Xavier Bisaro.Footnote ⁴

However, with her new work, The Politics of Plainchant in fin-de-siècle France, Katharine Ellis thoroughly renews the historical approach to the genre, illuminating plainchant’s flourishing in France at the end of the nineteenth century by brilliantly addressing several intrinsically related issues. These include the growing influence of the Solesmes Abbey in the reform and dissemination of plainchant, various financial and musicological issues arising from newly-published liturgical editions of chant, and the strained relations between the Vatican and France (until the crisis of 1905 brought the French law of the separation of the churches and the State) from which certain members of the clergy and politicians profited.

Her research is based on documentary evidence preserved in several locations, including Aix-en-Provence, Paris, Bordeaux and Solesmes, all of which she exploits most effectively. At the heart of her inquiry emerges a certain Auguste Pécoul (1837–1916), whom Ellis appropriately calls ‘The Invisible Man’ in her first chapter, where she introduces this little-known figure so steeped in ambiguity. Pécoul, who entered the Solesmes Abbey in 1860 and left shortly afterward to begin a discreet diplomatic career, had hitherto attracted very little attention, because, as Pierre Combe already had shown,Footnote ⁵ he remained in the shadows of two major players in the restoration of plainchant, Dom Joseph Pothier and Dom André Mocquereau. The conflicts between these two men, particularly those that arose during the development of the Vatican edition of the plainchant, already have been identified by Combe.Footnote ⁶ With the arrival of Pope Pius X, in the early twentieth century, the new Vatican edition finally supplanted the Medici edition, published by Friedrich Pustet in Regensburg, thus signalling the triumph of Solesmes. However, the role of Pécoul in all of this has until now been little known.

Assuming a variety of pseudonyms in virulent and partisan articles, sometimes in journals unfavourable to the clergy (p. 50), all while operating covertly on behalf of various figures of his own time for whom he served as a ‘ventriloquist’ (p. 120), Pécoul represents a sort of opportunistic éminence grise who formed a fortiori ‘the perfect undercover agent in the turbulent fin-de-siècle politics of plainchant’ (p. 4). In the course of 100 pages, where she reviews the approaching end of Pustet’s exclusive publishing privilege with respect to plainchant editions and its consequences in France (Chapters 2 and 3), the crisis that shook Solesmes in 1893 with the departure of Dom Pothier (Chapter 4) and the battles that followed, the relocation to Belgium of plainchant publication operations following the 1901 French Law of Associations (Chapter 5), up to the ruptures of 1904–1905, which were marked by the end of Pustet’s license and the law of separation of Church and State (Chapter 6), Katharine Ellis leads us through a remarkable saga with intersections, as in a novel, involving multiple actors whose interpersonal relationships are complex and sometimes difficult to discern. Indeed, the web woven by this cast of characters is so tangled that an appendix of personalities, complete with birth and death dates, plus a synopsis of their roles, would have been most welcome!

However, Ellis holds the reader spellbound and offers a remarkable investigation of an important span in the history of liturgical music, demonstrating that Pécoul was in fact one of the major powers. More generally, she offers a reinterpretation of an era in the history of France, shaken by various conflicts internal (state, society and religion) and external (France vs. Germany, and France vs. the Vatican).

The activities of Pécoul occur within a unique context: starting from the point when the plainchant publishing privilege that had been accorded to Pustet (based in Regensburg) in 1868 for producing liturgical scores approved by the Vatican was about to expire (p. xix). Pécoul recognized all of the financial, political and ideological issues that were about to arise. By the late 1880s, these circumstances began to affect French publishers, whose businesses were in decline, as well. At that time, when relations between France, Germany and the Vatican were strained, some politicians, clerics and diplomats tried to break Pustet’s monopoly, but their efforts were in vain: ‘between 1868 and 1901, Regensbourg acquired the strongest imprimatur of any single plainchant edition, anywhere’ (p. 24). But, under cover of protectionism, Pécoul wished above all to impose the paleographic theories of Dom Pothier to the detriment of those of his former disciple and collaborator, Dom Mocquereau. Following an internal crisis at Solesmes, the two men ended up going their separate ways. After having left Solesmes in 1893 to rejoin the abbey of Ligugé, and then that of Saint-Wandrille, Dom Pothier became the symbol of the ‘Old Solesmes’, in contrast to Dom Mocquereau, who came to embody the ‘New Solesmes’ and whose theories were founded on those of Dom Guéranger, one of the principal instigators behind the reform of plainchant. The characteristics that distinguish these figures are perhaps too briefly surveyed (p. 59ff), although this is not at the heart of Ellis’ mission. She deliberately departs from work undertaken by predecessors, by focusing her attention on the question the intellectual propriety and paleographic orientations of the different editions that successively arose, for Don Mocquereau could not completely ignore the work of Dom Pothier in the development his theories, which, as it happened, would remain in effect until the Second World War.Footnote ⁷

With the arrival of Pope Pius X, Solesmes ultimately won this battle by delivering plainchant editions that were needed, even as the abbey was forced to relocate temporarily in Belgium following the law of 1901, which declared numerous congregations illegal (p. 77–8). Pécoul then engaged in a new patriotic struggle (which is not lacking in relish or irony, since, he also wished to stem the German monopoly!), finding himself forced to confront a new foreign monopoly (p. 104). Similarly, Pécoul regularly assailed the Solesmes and Dom Mocquereau, mocking their rhythmic notation, perceived as ‘Romantic, unproven and indeed unprovable’ (p. 112). However, in parallel, he worked covertly to promote Dom Pothier. In 1905 Pécoul eventually prevailed, because the Vatican reverted and chose Dom Pothier as prime contractor for an official edition based not on the principles of Mocquereau, but on those Pothier had implemented in its Liber Gradualis of 1895 (p. 109). Thus, at the end of her study, Ellis’ initial assertion that these successive battles are an ‘allegory’ (p. xii) of the renewed issue of copyright appears convincing. Similarly, Ellis could legitimately conclude her book by repeating this observation concerning the intriguing Pécoul: ‘He would not thank me for having unmasked him at last’ (p. 121). That may be, but we should we thank her for delivering an original, passionate and exciting book: after having examined with great success the renewal of early music in France,Footnote ⁸ Katharine Ellis offers a new book for anyone interested in the history of plainchant as well as the history of societal movements and ideas in France at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.