THE MATERIALS AND TECHNICAL PROCESSES OF THE ILLUMINATOR.
_Finest vellum._
_Vellum for scribes[238]._ The most remarkable skill is shown by the
perfection to which the art of preparing vellum[239] for the scribe was
brought. The exquisitely thin uterine vellum, which was specially used for
the minutely written Anglo-Norman _Vulgates_ of the thirteenth century, has
been already described; see page 113. For ivory-like beauty of colour and
texture nothing could surpass the best Italian vellum of the fifteenth
century.
One occasional use of the very thin uterine vellum should be noted. For
example in a German twelfth century copy of the _Vulgate_, now in the
Corpus library in Cambridge, some of the miniature pictures have been
painted on separate pieces of uterine vellum, and then pasted into their
place on the thicker vellum pages of the manuscript. This, however, is an
exceptional thing.
_High price of vellum._
The vellum used for illuminated manuscripts appears to have been costly,
partly on account of the skill and labour that were required for its
production, and, in the case of uterine vellum on account of the great
number of animals' skins that were required to provide enough material for
the writing of a single manuscript such as a copy of the _Vulgate_.
_Cost of vellum._
Even the commoner kind of parchment used for official documents was rather
a costly thing. The roll with the Visitation expenses of Bishop Swinfield,
Bishop of Hereford from 1282 to 1317, shows that 150 sheets of parchment
cost 3_s._ 4_d._, about £4 in modern value[240].
The vellum used for manuscripts has a different texture on its two sides.
One side, that on which the hair grew, has a _mat_, unglossy surface; the
other (interior) side of the skin is perfectly smooth and, in the case of
the finest vellum, has a beautifully glossy texture like that of polished
ivory.
In writing a manuscript the scribe was careful to arrange his pages so that
two glossy and two dull pages came opposite each other[241].
_Bad modern vellum._
The art of preparing vellum of the finest kind is now lost; the vellum made
in England is usually spoilt first by rubbing down the surface to make it
unnaturally even, and then by loading it with a sort of priming of plaster
and white lead, very much like the paper of a cheap memorandum book.
The best modern _vellum_ is still made in Italy, especially in Rome. Good,
stout, undoctored vellum of a fine, pure colour can be procured in Rome,
though in limited quantities, and at a high price[242], but nothing is now
made which resembles either the finest ivory-textured vellum of fifteenth
century Italian manuscripts, or the exquisitely thin uterine vellum of the
Anglo-Norman Bibles.
_Use of paper._
_Paper[243]._ Though by far the majority of the illuminated manuscripts of
the Middle Ages are written on vellum, yet paper was occasionally used,
long before the fifteenth century, when its manufacture was largely
developed to supply the demand created by the invention of printing.
Paper made from the papyrus pith has been already described, see Chap. II.
page 22.
_Mode of making paper._
A very different process was used for the various kinds of paper which were
made in mediaeval and modern times. The essence of the process consists in
making a fine pulp of cotton or linen rags by long-continued pounding with
water sufficient to give the mixture the consistency of thick cream. A
handful of this fluid pulp is then spread evenly and thinly over the bottom
of a fine wire sieve, through which the superfluous water drains away,
leaving a thin, soft mass which is then turned out of the sieve, pressed,
dried and finally soaked with size to make the paper fit to write on. This
process leaves the wire-marks of the sieve indelibly printed on to the
paper.
These marks are of two kinds, _first_, those of the stouter wires which run
longitudinally along the sieve at intervals of about an inch or a little
more, and _secondly_, very fine cross wires, placed close together, and
woven in at right angles to the first-mentioned stouter wires.
_Water-marks._
In the fourteenth century what are called _water-marks_ came into use,
together with the invention of linen paper. Some simple device indicating
the city or province where the paper was made was woven with fine wire into
the bottom of the sieve, and this mark was impressed upon the paper, like
that of the other (parallel) wires of the sieve. A double-headed eagle, a
vase, a letter or a bull's head are among the earliest paper-marks which
occur in manuscripts and books of the fifteenth century[244]. In later
times, during the sixteenth century, each manufacturer adopted his own
mark[245]; and then still more recently the year-date has been added[246].
_Evidence of date._
These paper-marks in some cases afford useful evidence as to the origin and
date of a manuscript or printed book; but too much reliance should not be
placed on such evidence, since paper often remained for a long time in
stock, and the productions of one manufactory were frequently exported for
use by the scribes and printers of more than one distant country[247].
Paper of Oriental make has no water-mark, but the earliest linen-paper of
the fourteenth century made in Christian Europe always has a water-mark of
some kind, very clearly visible.
_Earliest cotton paper._
_The dates of paper manufacture._ The earliest paper appears to have been
made in China at a date even before the Christian Era. Its manufacture was
next extended in Syria, and especially to Damascus[248]. This early paper
was made of the cotton-plant, the "tree-wool" of Herodotus. Hence it was
called _charta bombycina_ or _Damascena_, or, from its silky texture,
_charta serica_. Paper of this class, almost as beautiful in texture as
vellum, is still made in the East and used for the fine illuminated
manuscripts of India, Persia and other Moslem countries.
_Arab MSS. on paper._
Many Arab manuscripts written on cotton-paper of as early a date as the
ninth century still exist. The Moslem conquerors of Spain and Sicily
introduced the manufacture of this _charta bombycina_ into western Europe,
and to some small extent it was used for Greek and Latin manuscripts during
the tenth and eleventh centuries. It was, however, rarely used in Christian
Europe till the thirteenth century.
_Wool-paper._
At first cotton only was used in the manufacture of paper, but gradually a
mixture first of wool and then of flax or linen was introduced.
Peter, who was Abbot of Cluny from 1122 to 1150, in his treatise _Adversus
Judaeos_ mentions manuscripts written on wool-paper, made "ex rasuris
veterum pannorum."
_Linen paper._
In the fourteenth century linen-paper began to be made; at first mixed with
wool, and then of pure linen. This fourteenth century paper is
distinguishable by its stoutness, its close texture, and its thick
wire-marks; the water-mark being especially clear and transparent. Paper
was frequently used for official documents, charters and the like before it
came into use for manuscript books[249].
_Early MS. on paper._
The British Museum possesses one of the oldest known books on paper
(_Arundel Manuscripts_, 268); this is a collection of _Astronomical
treatises_ written by an Italian scribe early in the thirteenth century.
In the fourteenth century the Spanish manufactories of _cotton_-paper were
on the decline, and the first manufactory of _linen_-paper was started at
Fabriano in northern Italy. In 1340 another manufactory was set up in
Padua, and before the close of the fourteenth century paper was made in
nearly all the chief cities of northern Italy, especially in Milan and
Venice, and as far south as Florence and Siena.
In Germany paper-making began in Mentz in about 1320; and in 1390 a
manufactory was started at Nuremberg with the aid of Italian workmen. South
Germany, however, was supplied with paper from northern Italy till the
fifteenth century.
In Paris and other places in France paper began to be made soon after the
first manufactories in Italy were started.
_Paper in England._
In England cotton-paper, especially for legal documents, was largely used
in the fourteenth century. In Oxford, in the year 1355, a quire of paper,
small folio size, cost five pence, equal in modern value to eight or nine
shillings. In the fifteenth century its value had decreased to three pence
or four pence the quire.
Paper does not appear to have been made in England till the reign of Henry
VII.; before that time it was mainly imported from Germany and the
Netherlands.
_Earliest English paper._
All Caxton's books are printed on foreign paper, and the first book printed
on paper which was made in England was Wynkyn de Worde's Bartholomaeus, _De
proprietatibus rerum_, printed about the year 1495, four years after
Caxton's death, with the following interesting _colophon_, which alludes to
the first paper manufactory in England, set up by John Tate at Hertford.
This _colophon_, which does not do credit to Wynkyn de Worde's literary
style, runs thus:
And also of your charyte call to remembraunce
The soule of William Caxton first prynter of this boke
In laten tongue at Coleyn hymself to auance
That every wel disyosyd man may theron loke
And John Tate the yonger joye mote he broke
Whiche late hathe in Englond doo make this paper thynne
That now in our englyssh this boke is prynted inne.
During the fifteenth century the making of paper reached its highest degree
of perfection, and in the following century its excellence began to
decline.
_Beauty of Venetian paper._
The Venetian paper of about 1470, used, for example, in the printed books
of Nicolas Jenson and other printers in Venice, is a substance of very
great beauty and durability, inferior only in appearance to the very best
sort of vellum. It is very strong, of a fine creamy tint, and sized[250]
with great skill, so as to have a beautiful glossy texture. For the
illuminator's purpose it appears to have been almost as good as vellum. It
even receives the raised mordant for burnished gold of the highest beauty
and brilliance.
The very small quantity of good paper that is now manufactured, mainly for
artistic purposes, is made by hand in exactly the same way that was
employed in the fourteenth or fifteenth century.
Most paper is now made by machinery, and as a rule contains more esparto
grass than pure linen fibre.
THE METALS AND PIGMENTS USED IN ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS[251].
_Fluid and leaf gold._
_Gold and silver or tin._ The splendour of illuminated manuscripts of
almost all classes, except manuscripts of the Irish school such as the
_Book of Kells_, is largely due to the very skilful use of gold and silver.
These metals were applied by the illuminator in two ways, _first_, as a
fluid pigment, and _secondly_ in the form of leaf.
The fluid method appears to have been the older. It is easier to apply, but
is not comparable in splendour of effect to the highly burnished leaf gold,
which was used with such perfection of skill by the illuminators of the
fourteenth century.
_Method of grinding._
_Fluid gold_ was made by laboriously grinding the pure metal on a porphyry
slab into the finest possible powder. This powdered gold, mixed with water
and a little size, was applied with a brush like any other pigment; see
Theophilus, I. 30 to 33[252]. When dry, it could be to some extent polished
by burnishing, but as it was laid directly on to the comparatively uneven
and yielding surface of the vellum it never received a very high polish. As
a rule therefore fluid gold was left unburnished, and its surface remained
dull or _mat_ in appearance.
_Dull and burnished gold._
For this reason it was not unfrequently used in conjunction with burnished
leaf gold, a fine decorative effect being produced by the contrast of the
_mat_ and polished surfaces. Thus, for example, in fourteenth and fifteenth
century manuscripts a delicate diaper of scroll pattern is sometimes
painted with a fine brush over a ground of burnished gold leaf.
In the fifteenth century, during the decadence of the illuminator's art,
the use of fluid gold, which had previously greatly diminished, was much
revived, especially for the background of the realistic borders in Flemish
manuscripts[253], for touching in the high lights of miniatures, and for
many other purposes. When used to cover large surfaces, it is always
unsatisfactory in effect and has little decorative value.
_Cistercian severity._
The preparation of this gold pigment was a very slow and laborious matter.
The severe Cistercian rule regarded this process as a waste of precious
time; and indeed the use of gold in any form was prohibited in the
manuscripts used in Cistercian Abbeys. In the dialogue between a Cistercian
and a Cluniac monk, _De diversis utriusque ordinis observantiis_ (_Thesaur.
Nov. Anecdot._ Vol. V. 1623), the Cistercian asks "what use there can be in
grinding gold and painting large capitals with it"; _aurum molere et cum
illo molito magnas capitales pingere litteras, quid est nisi inutile et
otiosum opus_? St Bernard himself had an even stronger objection, not only
to gold in manuscripts, but to any ornaments with grotesque dragons and
monsters, on the ground that they did not tend to edification.
_Fluid silver._
_Fluid silver_ was prepared and applied in the same way, but it was much
less used than gold pigment. A very beautiful effect is produced in some of
the gorgeous Carolingian manuscripts by using in the same ornament both
gold and silver, which mutually enhance each other's effect by contrast of
colour.
_Leaf gold._
_Mordant ground._
_Burnished Gold leaf._ The extraordinary splendour of effect produced by
skilfully applied gold leaf depends mainly on the fact that it was laid,
not directly on to the vellum, but on to a thick bed of a hard enamel-like
substance, which gradually set (as it got dry) and formed a ground nearly
as hard and smooth as glass; this enabled the gold leaf laid upon it to be
burnished to the highest possible polish, till in fact the gold gave a
reflexion like that of a mirror. This enamel-like ground, or _mordant_ as
it was called, was commonly as thick as stout cardboard, and its edges were
rounded off, which has the double result of making the gold leaf laid upon
it look not like a thin leaf, but like a thick plate of gold[254], and at
the same time the rounded edges catch the light and so greatly increase the
decorative splendour of the metal.
_Convex surface._
Thus, for example, the little bosses and studs of gold, which are strewn so
thickly among the foliage in the illuminated borders of Italian manuscripts
of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, are convex in shape, like an
old-fashioned watch-glass, and each boss reflects a brilliant speck of
light whatever the direction may be in which the light falls upon the page.
Perhaps the most sumptuous use of gold leaf is to be seen in some of the
early fourteenth century French manuscripts, in which large miniatures are
painted with an unbroken background of solid-looking burnished gold, with a
mirror-like power of reflexion.
It was only by slow degrees that the illuminators reached the perfect
technical skill of the fourteenth century in their application of gold
leaf.
_Purity of the gold._
In the first place the purest gold had to be beaten out, not the alloy of
gold, silver and copper which now is used for making the gold leaf of what
is called "the finest quality." The English illuminators at the close of
the thirteenth and in the fourteenth century frequently got their gold in
the form of the beautiful florins of Florence, Lucca[255] or Pisa, which
were struck of absolutely pure gold[256]. In England there was no gold
coinage till the series of _nobles_ was begun by Edward III.[257], but
these were of quite pure gold, like the Italian florins, and so answered
the purpose of the illuminator.
Another important point was that the gold leaf was not beaten to one
twentieth part of the extreme tenuity of the modern leaf. The leaves were
very small, about three by four inches at the most, and not more than from
fifty to a hundred of these were made out of the gold ducat of Italy, which
weighed nearly as much as a modern sovereign[258].
In many cases, we find, the illuminator prepared his own gold leaf, and it
was not uncommon for the crafts of the goldsmith and the illuminator to be
practised by the same man. For example the Fitz-Othos, mentioned at page
112 as a distinguished Anglo-Norman family of artists in the thirteenth
century, were skilful both as makers of gold shrines and as illuminators of
manuscripts. Many interesting notes about the Fitz-Othos and other artists
employed at Westminster during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries are
to be found among the royal accounts now preserved in the Record Office:
see _Vetusta Monumenta_, Vol. VI., p. 1 seq.
Among the accounts of the expenses of decorating with painting the royal
chapel of Saint Stephen at Westminster in Edward III.'s reign, we find that
John Lightgrave paid for six hundred leaves of gold at the rate of five
shillings the hundred, equal to about £5 or £6 in modern value. And John
"Tynbeter" received six shillings for six dozen leaves of tin used instead
of silver, not because it was cheap, but because tin was not so liable to
tarnish.
These accounts are in Latin, which is not always of Ciceronian purity; a
classical purist might perhaps carp at such phrases as these,
_Item. Pro reparatione brushorum_, viij^d, under the date 1307; and, in the
following year,
_Item. Unum scarletum blanketum_, ij^s vij^d.
The scarlet blanket was not bought to keep the artist warm, but to make a
red pigment from, as is described below at page 246.
_Goldsmith artists._
This close connection between the arts of the goldsmith and the illuminator
had its parallel in other branches of the arts, and with results of very
considerable importance. Many of the chief painters and sculptors of Italy,
during the period of highest artistic development, were also skilful
goldsmiths, as for example Ghiberti, Verrocchio, Ant. Pollaiuolo, Francesco
Francia and many others.
This habit of manipulating the precious metals gave neatness and precision
of touch to the painter, and in the art of illuminating manuscripts taught
the artist to use his gold so as to produce the richest and most decorative
effect.
_The gold mordant._
_The mordant._ We now come to the most difficult part of the illuminator's
art, that of producing a ground for his gold leaf of the highest hardness
and smoothness of surface. It is a subject dealt with at much length by all
the chief writers on the technique of the illuminator, from Theophilus in
the eleventh century, down to Cennino Cennini at the beginning of the
fourteenth[259].
Though differing in details, the general principle of the process is much
the same in all; the finest possible sort of _gesso_, plaster, gypsum or
whitening, was very finely ground to an impalpable powder, and then worked
up with albumen or size to the consistency of cream, so that it could be
applied with a brush. After the first coat was dry, a second and a third
coat were added to bring up the mordant to the requisite thickness of body,
so that it stood out in visible relief upon the surface of the vellum.
In order that the illuminator might see clearly where his brush was going,
and keep his mordant accurately within the required outline, it was usual
to add some colouring matter, such as bole Armeniac (red ochre), to the
white _gesso_, which otherwise would not have shown out very clearly on the
cream-white vellum. In many cases, however, this colouring matter is
omitted.
_Application of leaf._
When the last coat of the _gesso-mordant_ was dry and hard, its surface was
carefully polished with the burnisher and it was then ready to receive the
gold leaf; several days' waiting would often be required before the whole
body of the mordant had set perfectly hard. White of egg was then lightly
brushed over the whole of the raised mordant, and while the albumen was
still moist and sticky, the illuminator gently slid on to it the piece of
gold leaf, which he had previously cut approximately to the required shape.
He then softly dabbed the gold leaf with a pad or bunch of wool, till it
had completely adhered to the sticky mordant, working it with special care
so as completely to cover the rounded edges. After the albumen was quite
dry, and the gold leaf firmly fixed in its place, the artist brushed away
with a stiff brush all the superfluous gold leaf; all the leaf, that is,
under which there was no mordant-ground to hold it fast.
_Burnishing process._
The gold was then ready to be polished. For this purpose various forms of
burnisher were used, the best being a hard highly polished rounded pencil
of crystal or stone, such as haematite, agate, chalcedony and the like; or
in lack of those, the highly enamelled tooth of a dog, cat, rat or other
carnivorous animal was nearly as good[260]. In fact patience and labour
were the chief requisites; one receipt, in Jehan le Begue's manuscript, §
192[261], directs the illuminator to burnish and to go on burnishing till
the sweat runs down his forehead. But caution, as well as labour, was
required; it was very easy to scratch holes in the gold leaf, so that the
mordant showed through, unless great care was used in the rubbing. In that
case the illuminator had to apply another piece of leaf to cover up the
scratches, and do his burnishing over again. To secure the highest polish,
illuminators burnished the hard mordant as described above before laying on
the gold leaf. In most cases two layers of gold leaf were applied, and
sometimes even more, in order to insure a perfect and unbroken surface.
_Application of gold._
All writers speak of this burnishing as being a very difficult and
uncertain process even to a skilled hand, requiring exactly the right
temperature and amount of moisture in the air, or else it was liable to go
wrong. If the gold was to be applied in minute or intricate patterns the
illuminator did not attempt to cut his leaf to fit the mordant-ground, but
laid it in little patches so as to cover a portion of the ornament. The
superfluous gold between the lines of the pattern was then brushed away, as
the leaf only remained where it was held by the mordant. With all possible
care and skill, it was hardly possible always to ensure a sharp clean
outline to each patch of gold; and so one commonly finds that the
illuminator has added a black outline round the edge of each patch of gold,
in order to conceal any little raggedness of the edge.
_Receipts for the mordant._
As examples of mediaeval receipts for making the mordant I may mention the
following:--
"Mix gypsum, white marble, and egg-shells finely powdered and coloured with
red ochre or _terra verde_; to be mixed with white of egg and applied in
thin coats, and to be burnished before the application of the gold." When
dry, this mixture slowly set into a beautiful, hard and yet not brittle
substance, capable of receiving a polish like that of marble, and forming
the best possible ground to receive the gold leaf. Much of its excellence
depended on the patience of the illuminator in applying it in very thin
coats; each of which was allowed to dry completely before the next was laid
on. When ready to receive the gold leaf, after the burnishing of the
mordant was finished, some purified white of egg was brushed over to make
the gold leaf adhere firmly so as not to work loose or tear under the
friction of the burnisher.
_Receipts for the mordant._
In some cases white lead (_ceruse_) was added to the _gesso_, as, for
example, in a receipt, given by Cennino Cennini (§ 131 to 139, and 157,)
for a mordant made of fine gypsum, ceruse and sugar of Candia, that is
ordinary pure white sugar[262]. This is to be ground up with white of egg,
applied in thin coats and burnished. To colour the mordant Cennino adds
_bole Armeniac_, or _terra verde_, or verdigris green.
Giovanni da Modena, a Bolognese illuminator, gives the following receipt
for a different gold-mordant to be used with oil instead of albumen or
size[263]. Instead of _gesso_ it is to be made of a mixture of white and
red lead, red ochre, bole Armeniac and verdigris; the whole is to be ground
first with water, then thoroughly dried, and again ground up with a mixture
of linseed oil and amber or mastic varnish.
This variety of mordant appears to have been used in a good many fifteenth
century Italian manuscripts. It is not such a good mixture as the _gesso_
and white of egg, as the oil used to mix with it is liable to stain the
vellum through to the other side of the page, and even to print off a mark
on the opposite page, especially when the book has been severely pressed by
the binder.
_Tooled patterns._
_Stamped patterns._
_Tooled patterns on gold leaf._ In many Italian and French manuscripts,
especially of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, a very rich and
brilliant effect is produced with tooled lines impressed into the surface
of the flat gold. Diapered and scroll-work backgrounds, the nimbi of
Saints, the orphreys and apparels on vestments, and many other kinds of
decoration were skilfully executed with a pointed bone or ivory tool,
impressed upon the gold leaf after it was burnished, and through the gold
into the slightly elastic body of the _gesso-mordant_. Patterns were also
produced by the help of minute punches, which stamped dots or circles;
these, when grouped together, formed little rosettes or powderings, like
those used in the panel paintings of the same time. Gold treated in this
way had to be of considerable thickness, and in some cases, when a large
flat surface of mordant was to be gilt, as many as three layers of stout
gold leaf were employed to give the requisite body of metal.
_Silver leaf._
_Burnished silver leaf_ was occasionally used by the mediaeval
illuminators, though not very often, as it was very liable to tarnish and
blacken. For this reason _leaf tin_ was not unfrequently used instead of
silver, as tin does not oxydize in such a conspicuous way; see above, p.
233.
The use of all three metals, gold, silver and tin, is described by
Theophilus, _Schedula diversarum Artium_, I. 24, 25 and 26. Theophilus
speaks of laying the gold leaf directly on to the vellum with the help only
of white of egg. This method was not uncommon in early times, and it was
not till the end of the thirteenth century that the full splendour of
effect was reached by the help of the thick, hard mordant-ground.
_Cheap methods._
Inferior processes were sometimes used for the cheap manuscripts of later
times. Thus tin leaf burnished and then covered with a transparent yellow
lacquer or varnish made from saffron was used instead of gold.
Cennino and other writers describe a curious method of applying gold easily
and cheaply. The illuminator was first to paint his design with a mixture
of size and pounded glass or crystal; this, when dry, left a surface like
modern sandpaper or glass-paper, the artist was then to rub a bit of pure
gold over the rough surface, which ground off and held a sufficient amount
of gold to produce the effect of gilding. Only a very coarse effect, worthy
of the nineteenth century, could have been produced by this process.