encircling gloom (by courtesy of Sir Sidney Cockerell) is William de
Brailes, a little tonsured cleric who appears, tucked away in three
miniatures, holding a scroll with: 'IV. de Brailes me fecit'. In one of
these, now in Cambridge, the angel of the Last Judgement is seen herding
the naked souls with a large and menacing sword. William de Brailes,
looking none too sure of his chances, presents his scroll with the air
of a man whose passport has expired but who is hoping for the best.
Another leaf, also at Cambridge, depicts the Fall of Man .
William de Brailes appears to have worked in Oxford. The villages of
Upper and Lower Brailes lie ten miles west of Banbury, and his name is
to be found among the illuminators who lived in Cat Street, Oxford, in
about 1260. Connoisseurs of esoteric information may care to follow this
up in Graham Pollard's Notes for a Directory of Cat Street, Oxford,
before 1500 (unpublished manuscript in the Bodleian).
The first manuscripts to have survived in any
quantity, and to be still available in private hands on a considerable
scale, are the Bibles written - especially in France - during the
hundred years following 1175. Europe had settled down, to some extent,
after the Dark Ages, and the strong hand of Philip Augustus (1180-1223)
had effected a considerable degree of security in France, enabling the
arts of peace to flourish and allowing Paris to assume that position as
the intellectual capital of Europe which she has so often held since.
With the reign of Saint-Louis (1226—70) the Middle Ages reached the
apogee of artistic achievement and spiritual fervour. Intellectual
leadership was now moving from the monasteries to the universities where
the friars, and especially the Dominicans, played a great part. In due
course the monks, feeling rather left out, moved into the universities
too.
It was the enthusiasm of Louis himself that firmly
established Paris as the spiritual power-house of Christendom. Geoffroi
de Beaulieu tells us that, while abroad on the crusades, the King
learned of a great Saracen ruler who had formed what virtually amounted
to a national library. Shamed by this spectacle of spiritual and
intellectual superiority on the part of an infidel, Louis determined to
set matters right and on his return to Paris scoured all the abbeys in
his realm for important texts, and established schools of scribes to
multiply them. His private library was thrown open to all savants and
religieux, and he gathered an important theological library in the
treasury of the Sainte-Chapelle, remarking that a church without books
was like an army without weapons. All this created a far greater demand
for books than had ever existed before, but whereas most previous
manuscripts had been written in monasteries, production now passed
mainly to commercial workshops, which were to be found near the
universities in Paris and elsewhere. However a few really superb
manuscripts were still produced in monasteries.
Robertus de Bello was Abbot of St Augustine's, Canterbury,
from 1224 to 1253 and his Bible was probably written there. The
Book of Genesis opens with a long initial I, which extends the full
length of the page and contains a series of roundels depicting the Days
of Creation. The opening words, IN PRINCIPIO CREAVIT DEUS, are embodied
in the illumination, while there are six more roundels, with scenes from
Genesis, at the foot of the page.
In addition to the splendid books treasured by wealthy
institutions and private patrons, an immense quantity of quite humble
Bibles poured from the workshops. These were modest in size, more
sparsely illuminated and generally written in a script which, though
tiny, was very neat and regular. These were compact books, fitting
easily into the wallets of itinerant preachers to provide the texts for
those sermons that were to have so significant an influence on European
civilization.
Probably the favourite book, before the appearance of the Breviary and
the Book of Hours, was the Psalter - and some of the richest were
produced by the so-called East Anglian School. I use this phrase because
no better definition has received general acceptance. It has been
employed in the past because many of the most important examples are
connected with Norfolk, the Gorleston, Ramsey, St Omer and Ormesby
Psalters, among others. Yet even its firmest advocates are forced to
extend East Anglia by the inclusion of Peterborough, and it seems
probable, now, that some of the major Psalters were produced in other
parts of the country. East Anglia was then a rich and flourishing centre
of agriculture and the wool trade; Norwich was the second largest city
in England, while populous towns existed and great churches were built
in places where there are now only a few cottages.
These Psalters were planned on a large scale and the spacious
margins gave full opportunity to the riotous imagination of the
illuminators. In addition to religious pictures there were fabulous
beasts and vigorous scenes from daily life: bear-baiting, juggling,
ploughing, sowing, harrowing, harvesting, cooking and feasting — they
"were a sort of fourteenth-century illustrated magazine, to be idly
leafed through when wet weather confined ladies to castle or manor.
One of the most famous is the Luttrell Psalter, whose pictures have
become especially well known over the last eighty or so years with the
spread of interest in the history of everyday life. In Figures 11 and 12
the artist has depicted a coach for four queens - a sort of ancestor of
the 'royal train'. A small chest (which may well be a tool-box) hangs
underneath, and the horses have spiked shoes, like athletes. There is
some doubt as to whether Sir Geoffrey Luttrell actually received the
manuscript, for the decoration was not entirely completed and certain
portions are by a much inferior hand.
Queen Mary's Psalter derives its name from the action of a
watchful customs officer who prevented its export and, seizing it,
presented it to Queen Mary I in 1553. This manuscript, executed during
the first quarter of the fourteenth century, has been described by Eric
Miller as the 'central manuscript of the East Anglian group'. It is one
of the most fully illustrated of manuscripts, with hundreds of
miniatures. Old Testament scenes are generally two to a page, but with
the New Testament there is generally a large miniature at the top of the
page, then a few lines of text followed by grotesques in the lower
margin. In all there are tinted drawings of religious and secular
subjects in the lower margins of 464 pages. All of this appears to be
the work of one artist of supreme ability.
Throughout the ages linear draughtsmanship has been the foremost feature
of English art, and here the exquisite outline drawing has been touched
in, but only touched, by delicate, translucent colour washes that leave
the drawing clear.
To compare the Winchester Bible with Queen Mary's Psalter
(the two consummate examples of English Romanesque and English Gothic
art) is not merely to compare two different styles of drawing; it is to
apprehend two very different approaches to life. The great and severe
strength of the Winchester Bible is that of a man who has looked with
clear, unflinching eyes into the depths of the human tragedy, yet kept
his faith. The exquisite grace of Queen Mary's Psalter represents the
beauty of the world as it might be, were it governed by Christian love.
A book which, in its time, must have been among the most beautiful of
English manuscripts was the Missal written during the late fourteenth
century for the Carmelites of Whitefriars, London. Certain portions of
this already imperfect book came into the possession of Philip Augustus
Hanrott, an early nineteenth-century collector. His children, believe it
or not, cut up the Missal to make scrapbooks, sticking in favourite
pictures and spelling out their own names with a series of illuminated
initials. A title-page was spelled out with further fragments: INITIAL
LETTERS. The younger children made further scrapbooks from the
'leftovers', and the text and humbler fragments of decoration were
thrown away.
At the Hanrott sale in 1833 the major scrapbooks were acquired by Sir
William Tite, and soon after his death in 1873 they passed to the
British Museum. Here the scrapbooks remained intact, greatly admired and
often exhibited until, in 1933, an American scholar, Margaret Rickert,
conceived the idea of reconstructing the Missal from the surviving
fragments. The solution of this colossal jigsaw puzzle took about five
years, most of the clues coming from such fragments of text as could be
read on the backs of the scraps.
The Reconstructed Carmelite Missal now consists of three very
large volumes measuring 28.5 by 22.5 inches. The great size of the
original book, so inconvenient in a modern private library, may have
contributed to its dismemberment.
One of the many illustrations of the Carmelite Missal is
reproduced here. The initial T comes from the opening of the
service of dedication for a new church: Terribtlis est locus iste ('This
is a fearsome place: it is the house of God, the Gate of Heaven').
Before entering the church the bishop — preceded by a religious
procession and followed by the wealthy lay patrons who have paid for the
building — walks round it three times. He stops at the main door on each
circuit, knocking with his crozier and saying, 'Aperite portas principes
vestras.' In the miniature the bishop is sprinkling the church with holy
water, an act that drives out the devil, who is seen leaving, in haste,
by the roof.
In the fourteenth century many scribes were kept busy
producing Psalters, but during the remaining years of the Middle Ages
their patrons demanded illuminated copies of the horae, or Hours of the
Virgin. This was not a church service book but a manual of private
devotions, a shortened version of the Breviary. A large proportion of
Horae, it must be stressed, were produced for laymen and, perhaps more
often, laywomen. They contained a calendar of saints' and feast days,
gospel lessons, certain hours or services, the penitential psalms,
prayers for the dead and so on. Almost all these books must have been
produced in commercial 'workshops, the quality and scale of the
illumination varying according to the purse of the patron. At the top of
the scale these were royal and princely persons such as John, Duke of
Bedford, brother of Henry v and Regent of France - while more humble
examples were written for small merchants or craftsmen.
The more sumptuous books were regarded as precious works of
art rather than as books to be read and have generally survived in fine
condition. The lesser ones sometimes show great signs of use, like any
other prayer-book, and the majority must have been read out of
existence. The general run became rather stereotyped with six, twelve or
twenty-four full-page miniatures, mostly of the same subjects, which, in
the more mediocre books, were hackneyed copies of copies of copies. The
best had miniatures by some of the finest artists of the period, Van
Eyck, Jean Fouquet, Perugino and certain masters who (although they can
be identified by their style) are unknown by name.
Manuscripts page 5
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