Illuminated Manuscripts in Classical and Mediaeval Times/Chapter 13

The Monastic Scribes. It may be interesting to consider what were the causes that made the illuminated manuscripts of the mediaeval period among the most perfect and beautiful works of art that the world has ever produced. No one can examine the manuscripts of any of the chief European countries down to the fourteenth century without a feeling of amazement at their almost unvarying perfection of execution, the immense fertility of fancy in their design, and the utterly unsparing labour that was lavished on their production. Moreover the manuscripts of this earlier period, before their production became a commercial art in the hand of secular scribes, are especially remarkable for their uniform excellence of workmanship, and their complete freedom from any signs of haste or weariness on the part of their scribes and illuminators.

Now the fact is that the countless illuminated manuscripts which were produced in so many of the Benedictine and other monastic Houses of Europe were executed under very exceptionally favourable circumstances. In the first place the monastic scribe lived in a haven of safety and rest in the middle of a tumultuous and war-harassed world. While at work in the scriptorium he was troubled with no thoughts of any necessity to complete his task within a limited time in order to earn his daily bread. Food and clothing of a simple though sufficient kind were secured to him, whether he finished his manuscript in a year or in twenty years. He worked for no payment, but for the glory of God and the honour of his monastic foundation, and last, but not least, for the intense pleasure which the varying processes of his work gave him.

No one who examines a fine mediaeval manuscript can help seeing in it the strongest marks of the delight which the illuminator had in his work; and this sort of retrospective sympathy with the pleasure of the workman in his work is an important element in the beauty of ancient works of art of many different kinds and dates, from the simple but beautiful wheel-turned vase of the Greek potter, down to the carved foliage in a Gothic church, or the complicated ornamentation of an illuminated initial.

Again, it should be remembered that the life of a mediaeval monk was a very uneventful and monotonous one, and even the most pious soul must at times have felt a weariness in the oft-repeated and lengthy Offices which made him spend so large a proportion of each day within the Choir of his monastic church. Thus it was that his work as an illuminator of manuscripts provided the one great relief from his otherwise grey and monotonous life, from which he turned to revel in every variety of fanciful shape and of varied arrangement of gleaming gold and brilliant pigments. Here at least was no monotony, but the fullest scope for imaginative fancy and the love of variety which is inborn in the human mind.

In the illumination of his manuscript the monastic scribe, even when decorating a sacred book, could lay aside for a moment the solemn religious thoughts to which his vows had bound him; he could sport with every variety of grotesque monster and of Pagan imagery, and could find vent for his repressed sense of fun and humour by the introduction of caricatures and pictorial jokes of all kinds among the foliage of his borders and initials without any fear of reproof on the part of his superiors. Fig. 52 from a French fourteenth century manuscript shows a characteristic example of an illuminators humorous fancy, a grotesque Bishop, with a mitre made out of a pair of bellows.



Very frequently the jealousy which existed between the Regular and the Secular Clergy is expressed in the pictorial sarcasms of the monastic illuminators. This feeling, on the Secular side, is vividly set forth in the amusing Latin Poems of Walter Map, who, toward the close of the twelfth century, was the Parish Priest of a little church in the Forest of Dean. Walter Map's satire is mainly directed against the Cistercian order of monks, with whom he was specially brought into contact owing to his parish being situated near the Cistercian Abbey of Flaxley.

Fig. 53. from a German manuscript of the end of the twelfth century, now in the Chapter library of Prague Cathedral, gives an interesting example of the introduction of a humorous scene into a grave work, Saint Augustine's De civitate Dei. The illuminator, who was named Hildebert, has been worried by a mouse, which stole his food; and here on the last leaf of the manuscript he represents himself interrupted in his work and throwing something at the mouse which is nibbling at his food. These explanatory words are written on the open page of his book,

"You wicked mouse, too often you provoke me to anger, may God destroy you."



At the feet of the scribe a lad named Everwinus, possibly a monastic novice, is seated on a low stool, drawing a piece of ornamental scroll-work. The Monk Hildebert's desk is in the form of a lectern supported by a carved lion; in it are holes to hold the black and red inkhorns, and two pens or brushes. In his left hand the scribe holds the usual penknife, and another pen is stuck behind his ear.

There is yet another of the conditions under which the monastic scribe worked which was not without important effect on the unvarying excellence of his work, and that was that he could never remain long enough at work, at any one time, for his hand or eye to get wearied. Owing to the constantly recurring Choir services, the Seven Hours, which he had to attend, the monastic scribe could probably never continue labouring at his illumination for more than about two hours at a time.

The importance of this fact is very clearly seen when we compare one of the earlier monastic manuscripts with one of the fifteenth century French or Flemish Books of Hours, executed by a professional secular scribe. Thus in the older manuscripts the firmness of line and delicate, crisp touch never relaxes, and the artist's evident sense of power and the joy in his manual dexterity lasts without diminution from the first to the last page of his book.

Additional beauty is given to the mediaeval manuscripts by the fact that each scribe commonly did much important work in the preparation of his inks and pigments; in some cases even to the beating out of the gold leaf he was about to use in his miniatures and borders. No colours bought of a dealer in a commercial age could ever equal in beauty or in durability the pigments that an illuminator made or at least prepared for his own use. And his command over the materials of his art would greatly enhance his pleasure in using them, to say nothing of the relief given by the variety of his labours.

All these influences, combined with others which it might be wearisome to dwell upon, combined to make the manuscripts of the pre-commercial period works of the most unvarying perfection of technique, unspeakably rich in the varied wealth of fancy shown in their decorative schemes, as well as in the minute detail of each part. The illuminated ornament in one place is concentrated into a gem-like miniature within the narrow limit of a small initial letter. At another place it spreads out into the splendour of a full-page picture, which swallows up most of the text, and covers the whole page with one mass of burnished gold and brilliant colour. Or again, springing from its roots in an illuminated capital, it grows over the margin and frames the text with a mass of richly designed and exquisitely graceful foliage.

Every possible scheme of decoration is to be found in these manuscripts; but in all cases the illuminator is careful to make his painted ornament grow out of and form, as it were, an integral part of the written text, which thus becomes not merely a book ornamented with pictures, but is a close combination of writing and illumination, forming one harmonious whole in a united scheme of decorative beauty.

The Scriptoria of Monasteries. As I have previously mentioned, it was more especially the Benedictine monasteries that were the centres for the production of mediaeval manuscripts. I will therefore describe the usual arrangements of the Scriptorium in a Benedictine House.

In early times, in the eighth and ninth centuries for example, the Scriptorium and library appear usually to have been a separate room, near or over the Sacristy, and adjoining the Choir of the church.

During most of the mediaeval period, however, and in England down to the suppression of the Abbeys by Henry VIII., the system was to devote one whole walk or alley of the cloister, that nearest to the church, to the double purpose of a Scriptorium and library. This was naturally the warmest and dryest portion of the cloister, at least in most cases when the usual arrangement was followed of placing the cloister on the south side of the nave of the Abbey church.

This north walk (as it commonly was) of the cloister faced south and so received plenty of sun; at each end of it a screen was placed to shut it off from the rest of the cloister, which formed a sort of common living-room for the monks. Along one side of this alley of the cloister were fixed, against the wall of the church, oak cupboards (armaria), with strong locks and hinges, to receive the manuscripts which formed the library of the monastery. At Westminster and in other Benedictine monasteries the marks showing where these armaria were fixed are visible on the cloister wall or rather along the wall of the church, which forms one side of this walk of the cloister.



Down the middle of the alley a clear passage was left, and the other side of the passage, that opposite the bookcases, was occupied, at least in the fourteenth century, and probably much earlier, by a row of little wooden box-like rooms called carrels, each of which was devoted to the use of one scribe. As a rule there were either two or three of these carrels to each bay or compartment of the cloister. They were commonly made of wainscot oak, about six by eight feet in plan or even less; just big enough to hold the seated scribe and his large desk, on which rested the manuscript he was copying, and the one he was writing, with some extra shelf space for his black and red inkhorns, his colours and other implements; see fig. 53 on p. 209.

These little rooms were provided with wooden floors and ceilings, so as to be warm and dry; they were set close against the traceried windows, which in most cloisters ran all along the internal sides of the four alleys.

The cloister of Gloucester Abbey has a slightly different arrangement. Here a series of stone recesses, each intended to hold a carrel, extends all along the side of this walk of the cloister. There are two of these recesses to each bay, and the lower part of the outer wall, instead of consisting of open tracery, is of solid masonry, pierced only by a small glazed window to give light to the scribe; above the carrel recess there is the usual large arch filled in with tracery; see fig. 54.

When provided with these and other wooden fittings, the cloister of a Benedictine Abbey would not have been either in appearance or fact as cold and comfortless as such places usually look now. With a small portable brazier the monastic scribe in his little wooden cell was safe from damp and probably fairly warm even in cold weather.

The Rites and Monuments of Durham (Cap. XLI.) give the following very interesting description of the carrels with which the Durham cloister was fitted up;

"In the northe syde of the Cloister, from the corner over againste the Church dour to the corner over againste the Dorter (dormitory) dour, was all fynely glased, from the hight to the sole (sill) within a little of the ground into the Cloister garth. And in every windowe iij or, where every one of the old Monks had his carrell, severall by himselfe, that, when they had dyned, they did resorte to that place of Cloister and there studyed upon there books, every one in his carrell, all the afternonne, unto evensong tyme. This was there exercise every daie. All there pewes or carrells was all fynely wainscotted (with oak) and verie close, all but the forepart which had carved wourke that gave light in at ther carrell doures of wainscott. And in every carrell was a deske to lye there bookes on. And the carrells was no greater then from one stanchell (mullion) of the windowe to another.

And over againste the carrells against the church wall did stande certaine great almeries (armaria or cupboards) of wainscott all full of, with great store of ancient manuscripts to help them in their study, wherein did lye as well the old auncyent written Doctors of the Church as other prophane authors, with dyverse other holie men's wourkes, so that every one dyd studye what Doctor pleased them best, havinge the Librarie at all tymes to goe studie in besydes there carrells."

In the sixteenth century, owing to the introduction of printed works, the books in the Benedictine monastery of Durham had become too numerous for the row of almeries along the north walk of the cloister to hold them; and so a separate room was provided as a second library. The present library at Durham is the old Dormitory or Dorter of the Monks with all its "cubicles" or sleeping-carrels removed.

In the Houses of other religious foundations the arrangements for the writing of manuscripts were different from those of the Benedictines. In a Convent of Dominican Friars, for example, each friar worked in his own cell where he slept, and in a Carthusian monastery each monk had a complete little house and garden with a small study and oratory and a larger room, where his labours, literary or mechanical, were carried on.

The Dominican House of San Marco in Florence, of which Fra Beato Angelico was a member, throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was famous for the magnificent manuscripts that were illuminated there; see above, p. 190. And various other Convents of Dominican Friars in Italy were important centres of manuscript illumination. Some of the Regular Canons were also famous as illuminators, especially the Austin Canons.

Towards the latter part of the thirteenth and throughout the fourteenth century, secular artisans in all varieties of arts and crafts were gradually throwing off the bonds of the old feudal serfdom under which they had for long been bound. The growth in number and importance of the Trade-Guilds, which in England developed so rapidly under Henry III., was one of the chief signs of the growing importance of the artisans of the chief towns of this and other European countries.

At the end of the thirteenth century, in London, in Florence, and in many other cities no man could possess the rights of a citizen and a share in the municipal government without becoming a member of one of the established Trade-Guilds. Edward I., Edward III. and others of the English Kings set the example of enrolling themselves as members of one of the London Guilds ; and in Florence it was necessary for Dante to become a member of a Guild before he could serve the Republic as one of the Priori.

At first the scribes and illuminators (librorum scriptores et illuminatores ) were members of one general Guild including craftsmen in all the decorative arts and their subsidiary processes, such as leather-tanning, vellum-making, and even saddlery.

By degrees the Guilds became more numerous and more specialized in character, till their fullest development was reached in the first half or middle of the fifteenth century. Much interesting information about the miniaturists' Guild in Bruges during the second half of the century has been published by Mr Weale.

This was the Guild of Saint John and Saint Luke; and every painter, miniaturist, illuminator, rubricator, copyist, maker of vellum, binder or seller of books who lived and worked in Bruges was obliged to belong to this Guild. This rule, which existed in Ghent, Antwerp and most artistic centres, had a double use; on the one hand it protected the individual illuminator from wrong and oppression of any kind; and, on the other hand, it tended to keep up a good standard of excellence in the work which was executed by the Guild-members.

No miniaturist could be admitted till he had laid before the Dean of the Guild a sufficiently good sample of his skill, and all members were liable to be fined if they used inferior materials of any kind, such as impure gold, adulterated ultramarine or vermilion and the like. In this way the officers of the Guild acted as moderators between the artisan and his patrons, securing reasonable pay for the artist, and, in return for that, reasonably good workmanship for his employer or customer. The Guilds also prevented anything like commercial slave-driving by limiting very strictly the number of apprentices or workmen that each master might employ.

Thus it happened that, though fine manuscripts were still written and illuminated in many of the principal monasteries of Europe, a large class of secular illuminators grew up, especially in Paris and the chief towns of Flanders and northern Germany. In this way the production of manuscripts, especially illuminated Books of Hours, became a regular commercial process, with the inevitable result that a great deal of work of a very inferior character was turned out to meet the rapidly growing demand for cheap and showy books.

An immense number of these cheap manuscript Horae were produced after a few fixed patterns, with some mechanical dulness of repetition in every border and miniature with which they were decorated.

At the same time manuscripts were still produced, mostly at the special order of some royal patron or wealthy merchant, which, in elaborate beauty and in unsparing labour of execution, are hardly surpassed by the work of the earlier monastic scribes. Examples of this are mentioned above at pages 135 and 169.

The Dukes of Burgundy and the Kings of France, towards the close of the fourteenth and the first half of the fifteenth century, numbered many illuminators among their regular paid adherents. In some cases the artist was permanently engaged, and passed his whole life in the service of one Prince; while in other cases famous illuminators were hired for a few months or years, when the patron wanted a specially magnificent manuscript either for his own use, or as a royal gift on the occasion of a marriage, a coronation or other great event.

In some cases, we find that women learnt to be manuscript illuminators of great skill and artistic taste. For example Cornelia, the wife of Gérard David of Bruges, was, like her husband, both an illuminator of manuscripts and a painter of altar retables. A fine triptych painted by Cornelia, in the possession of Mr H. Willett of Brighton, is a work of great beauty and refinement, which it would be difficult to distinguish from a painting by Gérard David himself.

In the fifteenth century the commercial value of sumptuously illuminated manuscripts rose to the highest point. No object was thought more suited for a magnificent wedding present to a royal personage than a costly manuscript. And large sums were often advanced by money-lenders or pawnbrokers on the security of a fine illuminated manuscript.



Fig. 55 shows a lady of the Bourgeois class negociating for the sale or pawn of a Book of Hours or some such manuscript, illuminated with a full-page miniature of the Virgin and Child. The money-lender appears to be weighing out to her the money. This beautiful painting which is commonly called the "Money-changer and his wife" is signed and dated 1514 by Quentin Massys or Matsys of Antwerp. It is now in the Louvre.

In the sixteenth century, especially in Italy, during the last decadence of the illuminator's art, very magnificent and costly manuscripts were produced by professional miniaturists, but these are merely monuments of wasted labour. Some account is given at page 202 of Giulio Clovio, the most skilful though tasteless miniaturist of his age.

Mr J. W. Clark, the Registrary of the University of Cambridge, has procured and kindly allows me to print the following very interesting record of the cost of writing and illuminating certain manuscripts during the fourteenth century. The extract is taken from the manuscript records of the expenses of the Collegiate Church of St George at Windsor. The date is approximately given by the fact that John Prust was a Canon of Windsor from 1379 to 1385.

"Compotus Johannis Prust de diuersis libris per eum factis videlicet j Antiphonarium, j Textus Evangelij, j Martilogium, iij Processionalia.

From these accounts we learn that six manuscripts were written, illuminated and bound, one of them with gold or silver clasps or bosses, at a total cost of £14. 9s. 3d., more than £150 in modern value.

The books were a Textus or Evangeliarium, a Martyrologium, an Antiphonale and three Processionals.

The three Processionals only cost £1. 17s. 4d., being written on 46 quaternions of cheap parchment made of sheep-skin which cost only 2½d. the quaternion.

The following extracts from the Parish accounts of the Church of St Ewen, in Bristol, give some details as to the cost of writing, illuminating and binding a manuscript Lectionary during the years 1469 and 1470. The total expense is £3. 4s. 1d., quite equal to £20 in modern value.