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Gabriel . and . the Hour . Book
Roses of St. Elizabeth Series
Evaleen.Stein.
GABRIEL AND THE HOUR BOOK
Roses of St. Elizabeth Series
Each 1 vol., small quarto, illustrated and decorated in colour. $1.00
The Roses of Saint Elizabeth BY JANE SCOTT WOODRUFF
Gabriel and the Hour Book BY EVALEEN STEIN
The Enchanted Automobile _Translated from the French by_ MARY J. SAFFORD
Pussy-Cat Town BY MARION AMES TAGGART
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY New England Building BOSTON, MASS.
_Gabriel_]
Roses of St. Elizabeth Series
Gabriel and the Hour Book
BY Evaleen Stein
_ILLUSTRATED IN COLOURS BY_
Adelaide Everhart
L. C. Page & Company Boston Mcmvi
_Copyright, 1906, by L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (Incorporated)_
_All rights reserved_
_First Impression, July, 1906_
_COLONIAL PRESS_
_Electrotyped and Printed by C.H. Simonds & Co. Boston, U.S.A._
TO
=My friend=
CAROLINE H. GRIFFITHS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Little Colour Grinder 1
II. Brother Stephen's Inspiration 19
III. Gabriel Interviews the Abbot 35
IV. The Hour Book 49
V. The Count's Tax 65
VI. Gabriel's Prayer 74
VII. The Book Goes to Lady Anne 89
VIII. Lady Anne Writes to the King 99
IX. The King's Messenger 116
X. Gabriel's Christmas 136
XI. The King's Illuminator 162
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Gabriel _Frontispiece_
"He saw the Abbot walking up and down" 38
"Dreaming of all the beautiful things he meant to paint" 59
"Taking down the book . . . he unwrapped and unclasped it" 95
"Began slowly to turn over the pages" 105
"He passed a little peasant boy" 142
Gabriel and the Hour Book
CHAPTER I.
THE LITTLE COLOUR GRINDER
IT was a bright morning of early April, many hundred years ago; andthrough all the fields and meadows of Normandy the violets andcuckoo-buds were just beginning to peep through the tender green of theyoung grass. The rows of tall poplar-trees that everywhere, instead offences, served to mark off the farms of the country folk, waved in thespring wind like great, pale green plumes; and among their branches theearliest robins and field-fares were gaily singing as a little boystepped out from a small thatched cottage standing among the fields, andtook his way along the highroad.
That Gabriel Viaud was a peasant lad, any one could have told from theblouse of blue homespun, and the wooden shoes which he wore; and that hefelt the gladness of the April time could easily be known by the happylittle song he began to sing to himself, and by the eager delight withwhich he now and then stooped to pluck a blue violet or to gather ahandful of golden cuckoo-buds.
A mile or two behind him, and hidden by a bend in the road, lay thelittle village of St. Martin-de-Bouchage; while in the soft bluedistance ahead of him rose the gray walls of St. Martin's Abbey, whitherhe was going.
Indeed, for almost a year now the little boy had been trudging every dayto the Abbey, where he earned a small sum by waiting upon the goodbrothers who dwelt there, and who made the beautiful painted books forwhich the Abbey had become famous. Gabriel could grind and mix theircolours for them, and prepare the parchment on which they did theirwriting, and could do many other little things that helped them in theirwork.
The lad enjoyed his tasks at the Abbey, and, above all, delighted inseeing the beautiful things at which the brothers were always busy; yet,as he now drew near the gateway, he could not help but give a littlesigh, for it was so bright and sunny out-of-doors. He smiled, though, ashe looked at the gay bunches of blossoms with which he had quite filledhis hands, and felt that at least he was taking a bit of the April inwith him, as he crossed the threshold and entered a large room.
"Good morrow, Gabriel," called out several voices as he came in, for thelad was a general favourite with the brothers; and Gabriel, respectfullytaking off his blue peasant cap, gave a pleasant "good morrow" to each.
The room in which he stood had plain stone walls and a floor of pavedstone, and little furniture, except a number of solidly made benches andtables. These were placed beneath a row of high windows, and the tableswere covered with writing and painting materials and pieces ofparchment; for the brotherhood of St. Martin's was very industrious.
In those days,--it was four hundred years ago,--printed books were veryfew, and almost unknown to most people; for printing-presses had beeninvented only a few years, and so by far the greater number of books inthe world were still made by the patient labour of skilful hands; thework usually being done by the monks, of whom there were very many atthat time.
These monks, or brothers, as they were often called, lived inmonasteries and abbeys, and were men who banded themselves together inbrotherhoods, taking solemn vows never to have homes of their own or tomingle in the daily life of others, but to devote their lives toreligion; for they believed that they could serve God better by thusshutting themselves off from the world.
And so it came about that the brothers, having more time and morelearning than most other people of those days, made it their chief workto preserve and multiply all the books that were worth keeping. Thesethey wrote out on parchment (for paper was very scarce so long ago), andthen ornamented the pages with such beautiful painted borders of flowersand birds and saints and angels, and such lovely initial letters, all inbright colours and gold, that to this day large numbers of the beautifulbooks made by the monks are still kept among the choicest treasures ofthe museums and great libraries of the world.
And few of all those wonderful old illuminations (for so the paintedornaments were called) were lovelier than the work of the brotherhood ofSt. Martin's. Gabriel felt very proud even to grind the colours forthem. But as he passed over to one of the tables and began to make readyhis paint mortar, the monk who had charge of the writing-room called tohim, saying:
"Gabriel, do not get out thy work here, for the Abbot hath just orderedthat some one must help Brother Stephen, who is alone in the oldchapter-house. He hath a special book to make, and his colour-grinder isfallen ill; so go thou at once and take Jacques's place."
So Gabriel left the writing-room and passed down the long corridor thatled to the chapter-house. This was a room the brothers had kept foryears as a meeting-place, when they and the Abbot, who governed themall, wished to talk over the affairs of the Abbey; but as it had at lastgrown too small for them, they had built a new and larger one; and sothe old chapter-house was seldom used any more.
Gabriel knew this, and he wonder
ed much why Brother Stephen chose towork there rather than in the regular writing-room with the others. Hesupposed, however, that, for some reason of his own, Brother Stephenpreferred to be alone.
He did not know that the monk, at that moment, was sitting moodily byhis work-table, his eyes staring aimlessly ahead of him, and his handsdropped idly in his lap. For Brother Stephen was feeling very cross andunhappy and out of sorts with all the world. And this was the reason:poor Brother Stephen had entered the Abbey when a lad scarcely olderthan Gabriel. He had come of good family, but had been left an orphanwith no one to care for him, and for want of other home had been sent tothe Abbey, to be trained for the brotherhood; for in those days therewere few places where fatherless and motherless children could be takencare of.
As little Jean (for this was his name before he joined the monks, whenone's own name was always changed) grew up, he took the solemn vowswhich bound him to the rules of the brotherhood without realizing whatit all would mean to him; for Brother Stephen was a born artist; and, byand by, he began to feel that while life in the Abbey was well for mostof the brothers, for him it was not well. He wanted to be free to wanderabout the world; to paint pictures of many things; and to go from cityto city, and see and study the work of the world's great artists.
It is true he spent the greater part of his time in the Abbey working onthe illuminated books, and this he loved; yet it did not wholly satisfyhim. He longed to paint other things, and, above all, his artist naturelonged for freedom from all the little rules of daily life thatgoverned the days of the brotherhood.
Brother Stephen had brooded much over this desire for freedom, and onlythe day before had sought out the Abbot of St. Martin's and asked to bereleased from the vows of obedience which he had taken years before, butwhich now he found so hard to live up to. But, to his greatdisappointment, the Abbot had refused to grant his request.
The Abbot had several reasons for this refusal; one of them was that hehimself dearly loved all the little daily ceremonies of the Abbey, andhe could not understand why any one who had once lived there couldprefer a life in the world. He really thought it was for BrotherStephen's own good that he should stay in the brotherhood.
And then, too, perhaps there was another reason less to the Abbot'scredit; and this reason was that of all the beautiful illuminated booksfor which the Abbey of St. Martin's had become so famous, none werequite so exquisitely done as those made by Brother Stephen. So perhapsthe Abbot did not wish to lose so skilful an artist from the work-roomof the Abbey, and especially at this particular time. For just beforeBrother Stephen had had his talk with the Abbot, a messenger from thecity of Paris had come to the Abbey, bearing an order from the king,Louis XII., who reigned over France, and Normandy also, which was a partof France.
Now the following winter, the king was to wed the Lady Anne of Bretagne;and as Lady Anne was a great admirer and collector of beautiful paintedbooks, the king thought no gift would please his bride quite so much asa piece of fine illumination; and he decided that it should be an hourbook. These books were so called because in them were written differentparts of the Bible, intended to be read at certain hours of the day; formost people at that time were very devout, and the great ladiesespecially were very fond of having their hour books made as beautifulas possible.
As King Louis thought over the best places where he might have hisbride's gift painted, at last he made up his mind to send to the monksof St. Martin's. He commanded that the hour book be done in the mostbeautiful style, and that it must be finished by the following December.
The Abbot was delighted with the honour the king had shown the Abbey insending this order; and he determined that Brother Stephen should stayand make the entire book, as no one else wrote so evenly, or made quitesuch lovely initials and borders as did he.
When the Abbot told this to Brother Stephen, however, it was a pitythat he did so in such a cold and haughty way that altogether BrotherStephen's anger was aroused, for he had a rather unruly temper; and so,smarting under the disappointment of not receiving his liberty, andfeeling that the book for Lady Anne was one cause of this, he had spokenangrily and disrespectfully to the Abbot, and refused point-blank totouch the king's order.
At this the Abbot in his turn became angry, and declared that BrotherStephen should be compelled to paint the hour book whether he wished toor not; that he must do it as punishment for his unruly conduct; and theAbbot threatened, moreover, that if he did not obey, he would be placedunder the ban of the Church, which was considered by all the brotherhoodas a dreadful misfortune.
And so with this threat hanging over him, that very morning, just beforeGabriel reached the Abbey, Brother Stephen had been sent to the oldchapter-house, where he was ordered to work by himself, and to begin thebook at once. And to complete his humiliation, and for fear he might tryto run away, the Abbot caused him to be chained to one of the legs ofthe heavy work-table; and this chain he was to wear every day duringworking hours.
Now all this made Brother Stephen very angry and unhappy, and his heartwas full of bitterness toward the Abbot and all of the brotherhood andthe world in general, when all at once he heard Gabriel's knock at thedoor; and then, in another moment, the door was softly pushed open, andthere, on the threshold, stood the little boy.
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