There is an amusing rhymed Explicit in an early fifteenth century copy of Froissart:
"I, Raoul Tanquy, who never was drunk
(Or hardly more than judge or monk,)
On fourth of July finished this book,
Then to drink at the Tabouret myself took,
With Pylon and boon companions more
Who tripe with onions and garlic adore."
But if some of the monks complained or made sport of their work, there were others to whom it was a divine inspiration, and whose affection for their craft was almost fanatic, an anecdote being related of one of them, who, when about to die, refused to be parted from the book upon which he had bestowed much of his life's energy, and who clutched it in his last agony so that even death should not take it from him. The good Othlonus of Ratisbon congratulates himself upon his own ability in a spirit of humility even while he rejoices in his great skill; he says: "I think proper to add an account of the great knowledge and capacity for writing which was given me by the Lord in my childhood. When as yet a little child, I was sent to school and quickly learned my letters, and I began long before the time of learning, and without any order from my master, to learn the art of writing. Undertaking this in a furtive and unusual manner, and without any teacher, I got a habit of holding my pen wrongly, nor were any of my teachers afterwards able to correct me on that point." This very human touch comes down to us through the ages to prove the continuity of educational experience! The accounts of his monastic labours put us to the blush when we think of such activity. "While in the monastery of Tegernsee in Bavaria I wrote many books.... Being sent to Franconia while I was yet a boy, I worked so hard writing that before I had returned I had nearly lost my eyesight. After I became a monk at St. Emmerem, I was appointed the school-master. The duties of the office so fully occupied my time that I was able to do the transcribing I was interested in only by nights and in holidays.... I was, however, able, in addition to writing the books that I had myself composed, and the copies which I gave away for the edification of those who asked for them, to prepare nineteen missals, three books of the Gospels and Epistles, besides which I wrote four service books for Matins. I wrote in addition several other books for the brethren at Fulda, for the monks at Hirschfeld, and at Amerbach, for the Abbot of Lorsch, for certain friends at Passau, and for other friends in Bohemia, for the monastery at Tegernsee, for the monastery at Preyal, for that at Obermunster, and for my sister's son. Moreover, I sent and gave at different times sermons, proverbs, and edifying writings. Afterward old age's infirmities of various kinds hindered me." Surely Othlonus was justified in retiring when his time came, and enjoying some respite from his labours!
Religious feeling in works of art is an almost indefinable thing, but one which is felt in all true emanations of the conscientious spirit of devotion. Fra Angelico had a special gift for expressing in his artistic creations is own spiritual life; the very qualities for which he stood, his virtues and his errors,—purity, unquestioning faith in the miraculous, narrowness of creed, and gentle and adoring humility,—all these elements are seen to completeness in his decorative pictures. Perhaps this is because he really lived up to his principles. One of his favourite sayings was "He who occupies himself with the things of Christ, must ever dwell with Christ."
It is related that, in the Monastery of Maes Eyck, while the illuminators were at work in the evening, copying Holy Writ, the devil, in a fit of rage, extinguished their candles; they, however, were promptly lighted again by a Breath of the Holy Spirit, and the good work went on! Salvation was supposed to be gained through conscientious writing. A story is told of a worldly and frivolous brother, who was guilty of many sins and follies, but who, nevertheless, was an industrious scribe. When he came to die, the devil claimed his soul. The angels, however, brought before the Throne a great book of religious Instructions which he had illuminated, and for every letter therein, he received pardon for one sin. Behold! When the account was completed, there proved to be one letter over! the narrator adds naïvely, "And it was a very big book."
| ILLUMINATION BY GHERART DAVID OF BRUGES, 1498; ST. BARBARA |
Perhaps more than any books executed in the better period, after the decline had begun, were the Books of Hours, containing the numerous daily devotions which form part of the ritual of the Roman Church. Every well appointed lady was supposed to own a copy, and there is a little verse by Eustache Deschamps, a poet of the time of Charles V., in which a woman is supposed to be romancing about the various treasures she would like to possess. She says:
"Hours of Our Lady should be mine,
Fitting for a noble dame,
Of lofty lineage and name;
Wrought most cunningly and quaint,
In gold and richest azure paint.
Rare covering of cloth of gold
Full daintily it shall enfold,
Or, open to the view exposed,
Two golden clasps to keep it closed."
John Skelton the poet did honour to the illuminated tomes of his day, in spite of the fact that the æesthetic deterioration had begun.
"With that of the boke lozende were the clasps
The margin was illumined all with golden railes,
And bice empictured, with grasshoppers and waspes
With butterflies and fresh peacock's tailes:
Englosed with... pictures well touched and quickly,
It wold have made a man hole that had be right sickly!"