II.4. Minding Time: Books of Hours
There are more books of hours in the present exhibition catalogue than any other type of text. This is not an accident.
There are more books of hours in the present exhibition catalogue than any other type of text. This is not an accident.
The major presence of home in Boston-area institutions may it could be argued, reflect the tastes of those donors and librarians who formed these collections. A better argument, however, would be that this statistical strength is a reflection of their popularity in their own era (and their survival rate today). Indeed, in the three hundred years of their celebrity from the High Gothic to the Renaissance—that is, from around 1250 to around 1550—more books of hours were produced, written by hand or printed, and then read and loved, than any other text.
The book of hours was a prayer book used mainly by laypeople. At its heart were the Hours of the Virgin, a set of prayers, recited daily, in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary. (The phrase “book of hours” is short for “Book of the Hours of the Blessed Virgin Mary.”) The essential role played by these Marian devotions stems from the indispensable role the Virgin played as intercessor between man and God. Christians fervently hoped that their spiritual mother would hear their petitions, take mercy on them, and plead their cases to her Son who, surely, would not—could not—deny his own mother anything she might ask. Mary was the “back door” into heaven, and the book of hours offered direct access to her, at home or at church, without intervention from the clergy.
By the late fourteenth century, the typical book of hours consisted of a calendar; Gospel lessons; Hours of the Virgin; Hours of the Cross; Hours of the Holy Spirit; two Marian prayers: “Obsecro te” and “O intemerata”; Penitential Psalms and litany; Office of the Dead; and about a dozen suffrages to saints. This heterogeneous assemblage covered the major pietistic concerns of the late medieval and Renaissance user and helped account for the book’s appeal. Forgiveness (or avoidance) of sin was sought through the Penitential Psalms, for example, while saints were beseeched for help in dealing with the dangers of childbirth, travel, or disease. Praying the Office of the Dead reduced the time one’s dearly departed spent in the painful fires of purgatory. Children learned to read from books of hours and, as treasured heirlooms, the volumes would be passed down from one generation to the next. Family histories were sometimes recorded on their flyleaves.
In addition to prayers, pictures, too, were an attraction. A typical manuscript book of hours might contain about a dozen images, a private picture gallery to please the eye and inspire the heart of its owner whenever he or she might want. In most home the Hours of the Virgin were illustrated by the cherished events in Mary’s life surrounding the Infancy of Christ, from the Annunciation to the Flight into Egypt. This suite included the beloved events of the Christmas story: Nativity, Annunciation to the Shepherds, and Adoration of the Magi. The calendar might have small but amusing illustrations of the labors of the months or signs of the zodiac, or both. The Gospel lessons often received stately portraits of the Four Evangelists. The Penitential Psalms could begin with a picture of their traditional author, Ring David, or the source of one of his mortal sins, Bathsheba. The Office of the Dead often starts with a depiction of one of the multiple rites of the medieval funeral—an image to comfort the living while they prayed for the dead. Suffrages were provided with their own gallery of the popular saints.
Finally, it must be said, illuminations within books of hours rank with frescoes, stained glass, tapestries, and panels as one of the great storehouses for the art of the late Middle Ages and Renaissance. Some of the finest artists of the period painted images on their pages, and Boston’s collections are blessed with a representative range of artistic schools and geographic production. Stars include the French artist Jean Bourdichon (cat. no. 112) and the Master of the Houghton Miniatures, the Flemish illuminator named after his contributions to the Emerson-White Hours (cat. no. 116). Other illuminators, if less known, are equally fascinating. In France, these include the Master of the Troyes Missal (cat. no. 109) and the Master of the Burgundian Prelates (cat. no. 110) ; in Flanders, the Masters of the Gold Scrolls (cat. no. 115); and in the Netherlands, the Master of the Dark Eyes (cat. no. 128), and the Masters of Gijsbrecht van Brederode (cat. no. 125). Noble holdings, of which Boston can be proud.
The largest grouping in this catalogue, the books of hours are arranged in rough chronological order within, respectively, the geographic regions corresponding to modern-day France, Flanders, the northern Netherlands, Germany, England, and Italy.