HOW ILLUMINATING MAY BE PRACTISED.
On analysis it will be found that this section of my Essay resolves itself
into three divisions, embracing respectively, 1stly, the ancient processes;
2ndly, the modern processes; and, 3rdly, the possible processes, not yet
introduced into common use. Of the last, I do not propose speaking in the
present work. Notices of the first of these might of course have been
presented in the historical manual; but, upon reflection, I considered it
would be most useful to the student to introduce them, in a collected form,
in this place; and for the following reasons:--1stly, In order that they
might not interrupt the thread of the narrative; and, 2ndly, because I
considered it desirable to put the ancient and modern processes in direct
contrast, so that the amateur might be the better enabled to reject what is
obsolete in the former, and to revive any which might appear to promise
greater technical excellence or facility than he might be enabled to obtain
through the employment of the latter.
I commence, therefore, with the _Ancient processes_.
Sir Charles Eastlake, who has profoundly studied the history and theory of
the subject, has justly remarked[102] the intimate relation which, in the
classical ages, existed between the physician and the painter,--the former
discovering, supplying, and frequently preparing, the materials used by the
latter. This ancient connection was not broken during those ages when
almost all knowledge and practice of either medicine or art were limited to
the walls of the cloister. The zealous fathers not only worked themselves
to the best of their ability, but delighted in training up their younger
brethren to perpetuate the credit and revenue derived from their skill,
knowledge, and labour, by the monasteries to which they were attached. "Nor
was it merely by oral instruction that technical secrets were communicated:
the traditional and practical knowledge of the monks was condensed in short
manuscript formulæ, sometimes on the subject of the arts alone, but oftener
mixed up with chemical and medicinal receipts. These collections, still
more heterogeneous in their contents as they received fresh additions from
other hands, were afterwards published by secular physicians, under the
title of 'Secreta.' The earliest of such manuals serve to show the nature
of the researches which were undertaken in the convents for the practical
benefit of the arts. Various motives might induce the monks to devote
themselves with zeal to such pursuits. It has been seen that their chemical
studies were analogous; that their knowledge of the materials fittest for
technical purposes, derived as it was from experiments which they had
abundant leisure to make, was likely to be of the best kind. Painting was
holy in their eyes; and, although the excellence of the work depended on
the artist, it was for them to ensure its durability. By a singular
combination of circumstances, the employers of the artist, the purchasers
of pictures (for such the fraternities were in the majority of cases), were
often the manufacturers of the painter's materials. Here, then, was another
plain and powerful reason for furnishing the best-prepared colours and
vehicles. The cost of the finer pigments was, in almost every case, charged
to the employer; but economy could be combined with excellence of quality,
when the manufacture was undertaken by the inmates of the convent."
All that is asserted in this passage with respect to painting, holds
equally good with regard to the materials requisite for the practice of the
Art of Illumination; and the same treatises which are illustrative of art
generally, almost invariably include specific instructions with regard to
the particular branch of it that I am now endeavouring to illustrate.
Fortunately, the series of these "Secreta" both commences from a remote
date, and is tolerably complete from that to a quite recent period.
Scattered allusions to the processes of art and industry may be met with in
the writings of several authors of the Alexandrian Neo-Platonic school in
the early ages of the Church, from whom the Byzantine Greeks, no doubt,
learnt much; but the most ancient collection on the subject is the treatise
of Heraclius, or Eraclius, "de Artibus Romanorum."[103] It would appear not
to have been written earlier than the 7th or later than the 10th
century,[104] its art being, as Mr. Robert Hendrie, the learned translator
and editor of the essay of Theophilus, of whom mention will presently be
made, observes, "of the school of Pliny, increased, it is true, by
Byzantine invention, but yet essentially Roman."[105] The next collection,
in point of age, is that published by Muratori,[106] and well known as the
"Lucca Manuscript," ascribed by Mabillon to the age of Charlemagne, and by
Muratori himself to a period certainly not later than the 10th century. Its
Latinity is barbarous, but I scarcely think I can do wrong in following the
translation of so careful a writer as Sharon Turner in the following
extracts, which treat of illumination, and give us a clear insight into the
practice of the school founded under the patronage of the great Frankish
emperor of the West.
The first I select refers to the preparation of the calf-skin.
"Put it under lime and let it lie for three days; then stretch it, scrape
it well on both sides, and dry it; then stain it with the colours you
wish."
The second directs how skins may be gilt.
"Take the red skin and carefully pumice and temper it in tepid water, and
pour the water on it till it runs off limpid; stretch it afterwards, and
smooth it diligently with clean wood. When it is dry, take the whites of
eggs and smear it therewith thoroughly; when it is dry, sponge it with
water, press it, dry it again, and polish it; then rub it with a clean
skin, and polish it again and gild it."
Such gilding was effected with gold _leaf_, beaten out between small sheets
of "Greek parchment, which is made from linen cloth" (_i.e._ paper),
enclosed in vellum. White of egg was used as the mordant for fixing on the
gold.
The following two passages instruct the student in preparing gold for
writing:--
"File gold very finely, put it in a mortar, and add the sharpest vinegar;
rub it till it becomes black, and then pour it out. Put to it some salt
or nitre, and so it will dissolve. So you may write with it; and thus all
the metals may be dissolved.
"Take thin plates of gold and silver, rub them in a mortar with Greek
salt or nitre till it disappears. Pour on water and repeat it; then add
salt, and so wash it. When the gold remains even, add a moderate portion
of the flowers of copper and bullock's gall; rub them together, and write
and burnish the letters."
The next and last, alludes to the amalgam, which appears to have been for
many centuries a favourite method of applying gold to parchment and other
surfaces.
"Melt some lead, and frequently immerse it in cold water. Melt gold, and
pour that into the same water, and it will become brittle. Then rub the
gold filings carefully with quicksilver, and purge it carefully while it
is liquid. Before you write, dip the pen in liquid alum, which is best
purified by salt and vinegar."
In these instructions the student may distinctly recognize the processes
adopted in the production of those gilt texts on stained vellum grounds
which were so highly prized in the Carlovingian age.
In the writings of an ecclesiastic, probably nearly contemporary with the
Norman conquest, the monk Rugerus, or "Theophilus," we arrive at a really
perfect picture[107] of the arts of the 11th century. The first of the
three books into which his "Schedule of different Arts" is divided, is
dedicated entirely to painting. It contains forty chapters, of which thirty
refer to the preparation and application of pigments generally, both for
oil, tempera, and fresco painting, and ten to the various processes
connected with illumination. Of these, the following are the most
important:--