Tag Archives: Duc de Berry

July from the Très Riches Heures of the Duc de Berry

The Très Riches Heures of the Duc de Berry is an absolutely masterpiece. Created by the Van Lymborch Brothers (previously Limbourg), Herman, Paul and Johan, they consist of page after page of the most magnificent and exquisite paintings. This post focuses on the calendar page for July; there are other blogposts on this website.

Photographs here are all my own, (© 2025 Patricia Lovett) and taken at the exhibition of the Très Riches Heures of the Duc de Berry at the Château of Chantilly in the summer of 2025.

July is the month for harvesting wheat and shearing sheep. Two men towards the lower half of the miniature are cutting wheat with sickles, and, as they do, the blue and red flowers are being revealed. At the bottom right a woman in a blue dress and a man are shearing sheep. This particular painting is interesting because the angles of the château in the upper part of the image are reflected in the diagonal stream and the edges of the field. The mountains left and right at the top echo the shapes and draw the eye down and into the page.

 

The detail in the sheep shearing scene can be seen in this enlargement. Both shearers are using large shears which are operated not from handles through which thumb and fingers go, but by pressing on the blades themselves held open by a circular spring. The wool coming off the sheep being sheared by the man is shown falling on to the ground where it is in a large pile. He is wearing a fashionable bucket hat with a piece of pink fabric hanging down to protect his neck from the sun, but his clothes are rather worn and ragged, the sleeves are frayed and the knees of his breeches are worn away. The woman has a glorious deep blue dress which looks in better repair, and a black hood again for protection from the sun. Relieved of their thick wool coats, the sheep are grazing peacefully.

The other workers in this miniature are the reapers the other side of a small reed-lined stream. One of them has succumbed to the heat and is wearing just a white shirt and underwear; his partner’s tunic is split up to his thigh. Both are wearing straw hats to protect them from the bright sun.

The Duc de Berry was very fond of his castles, palaces and châteaux, and the Van Lymborch Brothers often incorporated them in miniatures in his books. This is a depiction of the Château de Poitiers, an unusual triangular- shaped building with a raised wooden walkway on stone supports providing the entranceway over the moat.

This is shown in greater detail in this enlargement. It is not quite of a high enough resolution to make out the precise strokes used by the brothers to show the curve of the tower and turrets, the covered wooden walkway, and the steeply gabled windows in the roof.

 

 

 

 

At the top of each calendar miniature are Zodiac signs for that month, here Cancer the crab followed by Leo the lion are set in a dark blue sky with golden stars. The sun, stars and semi-circular lines and divisions are in shell gold which is applied with great precision. There will be other posts on the calendar months on this website.

Here is more on the Très Riches Heures and the Duc de Berry.

‘The Posthumous Papers of the Manuscripts Club’

IMG_2191Christopher de Hamel is a wonderful and inspiring writer, wearing his scholarship lightly and introducing his readers to manuscripts, libraries, manuscript makers, and authors with the lightest of touches such that they hardly realise that they are absorbing so much knowledge. This is evident in all his books, but particularly his previous best seller and award winner – ‘Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts’. Could his newest book live up to that?

It certainly does!

 

 

IMG_2193In this latest one – ‘The Posthumous Papers of the Manuscripts Club’ – a play on the title of Dickens’ first novel, Christopher de Hamel takes as his theme not the makers of manuscripts (apart from Simon Bening), or the manuscripts, but those who collected and commissioned them, whether for themselves, other people or for religious foundations or libraries. It is an interesting conceit and one which could easily become rather dull and monotonous, but Christopher has such deftness of style, and introduces contemporary sources so well into the narrative, that it becomes such a good read and a difficult-to-put-down book. He starts with St Anselm as here, abbot of Bec Abbey, and then Archbishop of Canterbury. As with his previous book, Christopher takes us on a journey to Bec and describes what it must have been like at the time, bringing in Anselm’s correspondence and the ‘prickly’ script of Canterbury along the way.

IMG_2194The range of Christopher’s collectors include a monk (above), bookseller, illuminator, librarian, and, bringing us into the twentieth century, a curator. There are twelve chapters, all focusing on these different approaches of manuscript collection. The bookseller in chapter 3 is Vespasiano da Bisticci, the bookseller of Florence, and Christopher again sets out and visits the city to trace not only Vespasiano’s original shop but also the house where the bookseller retired; it is situated about five miles outside Florence. He left the city once the printing press signalled the decrease in demand for hand-written books, and Christopher quotes a letter from Vespiano to Pandolfini trying to persuade him to come and stay at; ‘…this pleasant and charming place, where the woods, fine hillsides, springs and clear streams and cascades invite you …’ – who could resist? Before his retirement, Vespasiano commissioned many manuscripts for his prestigious clients including this for the Duke of Urbino, illuminated by Francesco Roselli.

IMG_2192Constantine Simonides was a nineteenth-century forger, specialising in Greek manuscripts and particularly those of the early Christian era and ancient Greek authors. The photograph of him in the book (as here) certainly shows someone who lived up to that of an itinerant scribe and dealer, looking slightly dishevelled and about to pull out unknown manuscript treasures no doubt from a carpet bag! This is an intriguing chapter of deception and veracity, and brings in doubt about the authenticity of the Codex Siniaticus in the British Library (soon dispelled!).

 

 

IMG_2203Sir Sydney Cockerell will be familiar to calligraphers as the person who advised the great scribe Edward Johnston to study the manuscripts of the late tenth century so that he could improve his writing style, and from which Johnston devised his Foundational Hand. Cockerell had been William Morris’s secretary and together they bought the manuscript shown here, when, as this book describes they were in Beauvais together and at just after 7 in the morning Morris demanded that Cockerell ‘come out and buy a manuscript’! Despite his later advancement to be Director of the Fitzwilliam Museum, manuscripts were in Cockerell’s heart throughout his life, and the excitement with which such works could be bought for relatively small sums during the latter part of the nineteenth-century, and the delight of such collectors Cockerell advised and worked for such as John Ruskin, Henry Yates Thompson and Charles Perrins (of Lea and Perrins sauce fame) when they owned them is almost palpable in this book.

This is such a good book, a romping read through the ages of book collecting and dispersal that any thought of it being boring is dispelled in the first sentence. Should you buy it? YES, you should – it is very highly recommended!