The Valois Codex, the Gospel of the Dauphin of France, ms 2020 of the Casanatense Library
On February 24, 1525, the King of France, Francis I of Valois-Angoulême, was defeated in Pavia by Charles V of Habsburg. “All is lost except honor” is the famous phrase that the French sovereign has consigned to history after the heavy defeat suffered. He was in fact taken prisoner on the battlefield and taken to Spain where he was held for almost a year. Only after the signing of the Treaty of Madrid, in January 1526, did he regain his freedom but at a very high price: significant territorial renunciations and, above all, the sending to Spain, as hostages, of his two eldest sons, Francis, the Dauphin, and Henry, the second-born. The political situation remained critical for the French sovereign who was engaged in years of negotiations to get his young offspring back.
The premise is necessary to understand the history and vicissitudes of the Valois Codex, or ms. 2020 preserved at the Casanatense.
It is a precious codex containing the Evangelistary of the Dauphin Francis of Valois (1518-1536) and was produced precisely in the period in which the little prince was about to leave for Spain.
The facsimile edition of the Valois Codex, produced by the Vallecchi publishing house of Florence in 2008, represents an event of great cultural importance, which perfectly combines the dissemination campaign with the aim of valorising such a precious artefact, until now not as well known as its rank requires.
In fact, the facsimile, in addition to not obscuring in any way the beauty and charm of the original copy, offers an additional opportunity to all those who are interested in both studying the book and making it a collector’s item. In leafing through the manuscript, in fact, not only can one appreciate the refinement of its execution, but one is immersed in a cross-section of history that requires participation and understanding. In this sense, the editorial policy aimed at facsimile reproductions is increasingly gaining consensus: beyond its immediate usefulness for conservation purposes, a facsimile provides an immediate perception of the object, outlines the profile of the owner or patron of such valuable volumes and gives an account of the kind of libraries that were formed in the shadow – in this case – of the “lilies of France” or the coats of arms of illustrious bibliophile patrons.
Until now, manuscript 2020 was known simply as Evangelia totius anni and its acquisition by the Casanatense is not sufficiently documented. It is a court evangelistary (as is evident from the recurring presence in its decoration of the coat of arms of the Dauphin of France) and contains passages from the Gospels read during the mass in the changing of the liturgical year. In all likelihood, the Library acquired it between the end of the eighteenth century or in the early nineteenth century.
At the bottom of the volume’s flyleaves, only a few anonymous eighteenth-century annotations by unknown owners of “transit”, before the Dominicans, remain. One of these proposes a hypothetical date of purchase (“emptus circa ann. 1767”); the other suggests, in a few hasty lines, a fanciful attribution to the painter Jean Fouquet of the numerous miniatures that decorate it.
Probably, this initial error is linked to a further note to the codex, added by Father Giacinto De Ferrari (prefect of Casanatense from 1840 to 1850), according to which the manuscript should have belonged to the dauphin Louis, who later became King Louis XI of France. De Ferrari reports his Dissertation on the codex, printed in Lyon, but of which no trace remains. Therefore, there is no reliable evidence of such an important acquisition even if, it seems, the Casanatense librarians were immediately aware of the importance and value of the volume elegantissimus miniis, picturis auroque ditissimus.
The stylistic expression of the Casanatense codex certainly suggests a later date not only to the reign of Louis XI but also to his immediate successors. The Valois Codex was not the work of Jean Fouquet, as the aforementioned anonymous note written on the flyleaf would have it, nor can it be ascribed to that period. The most recent and accredited studies agree in tracing the codex back to the Tours area and precisely to the entourage of the Maître de Claude de France.
The first to support this hypothesis was Francois Avril, who broadened the investigation with the discovery of a “twin” manuscript of our Evangelistary, also intended for a prince of the royal family and preserved at the National Library of Madrid (ms. Res/51).
The data proves to be of extreme interest because it broadens the horizon of study but at the same time outlines tighter research limits. The two “twin” evangelists were commissioned in 1526, in very specific circumstances and strictly related to the execution of a third codex, preserved in Chantilly (ms. Chantilly 119), also intended for the court environment, and which contains the free adaptation of Erasmus’s Institution d’un prince jusque l’age de l’adolescence.
The Chantilly manuscript was probably copied around the time when Francis I was forced to send his two eldest sons, the Dauphin Francis and his younger brother Henry (the future Henry II) to Spain as hostages of Charles V, in exchange for his own freedom.
The juxtaposition of the three manuscripts, now preserved in three different locations (Rome, Madrid and Chantilly) outlines the specific context in which they were executed. The departure of the royal infants was imminent. They also had to be quickly equipped with the religious-didactic baggage necessary for their education in exile, appropriate to their rank.
In the heat of preparations for the trip to Spain, the pressing task bounced back to the atelier that was at the service of the Queen, to that Maître de Claude de France who, probably, traced the master lines of how the volumes should be set up and entrusted them to his expert craftsmen who saw to the execution.
The contents of the volumes were necessarily prayer books and instruction books. This is why the Gospel and this is why the adaptation of Erasmus’ text. Every choice was evidently aimed at the education of the young princes, segregated for “reasons of state”.
According to Avril, the link that unites the three manuscripts is indisputable, not only because of the massive presence of coats of arms belonging to the dauphin and the cadets that dot the decoration, but because all three can be traced back to the hand of the same artist, a disciple, follower or imitator of the Maître de Claude de France.
Patricia Stirnemann then reconstructed with an original argument the fate of the three codices, identified in the imprisonment of the two young princes. The interpretative key is provided by Erasmus’ manuscript, Chantilly 316. In particular, a full-page miniature inside it is striking, depicting Christ in the center of the composition, the sons of Francis I kneeling to his right, flanked by their shields and Saint James of Compostela, on the left, in the foreground. The dolphin wears in his clothing the childhood colors of his father, Francis I, of the Valois-Angoulême branch: white, yellow and red. In the same image, the presence of James of Compostela, saint and patron of “pilgrims”, who normally has nothing to do with teaching, rather reveals the circumstances that led to the creation of the manuscript, namely the looming Spanish captivity for the two French princes. The historical contingency emerges through the representation of the symbolic figures in the miniature, giving rise to the consideration that the book was made with the aim of accompanying the royal infants in exile. Furthermore, the artistic consonance with the Casanatense 2020 and the Madrid Res/51, evident in the style of the images typical of the first quarter of the 16th century, would confirm that both the copyist and the miniaturist, originally from Tours, would have conceived for the princes Francesco and Enrico the three codices with their respective coats of arms, intended for their life in prison.
In particular, the Casanatense manuscript would appear to have been intended for the chapel of the dauphin (chapelle du dauphin) as attested by the specificity of the recurring coat of arms, while the Madrid manuscript would have been intended for the chapel of the cadets (chapelle des cadets), in the hypothesis that the two brothers had been separated during their Spanish stay in Valladolid.
Two “twin” evangeliaries, therefore, executed at the same time and commissioned for the two sons of Francis I, which present within them the same text and similar illustrative equipment. The scheme of the liturgical celebrations is identical and includes the same sections: the temporal from the first Sunday of Advent to the 25th Sunday of Pentecost; the sanctoral with the proper and common of saints; finally the votive masses.
The iconographic apparatus, however, is not identical, even if it is rich in full-page miniatures and smaller-format tabular representations, usually inserted to illustrate the Gospel passage near the head of the letter.
In the Casanatense manuscript, the illustrative path as a whole can be seen as a fascinating didactic and moral itinerary, a sort of guide for the education of the young prince, given the insistence on the figure of Christ the teacher and on the theoretical parts of the sermons, the most suitable for reflection. Moreover, the images are entrusted with the task of “imprinting” themselves more easily in the mind of a child, carrying precise messages. The visual story necessarily follows the word, placing the emphasis above all on some episodes particularly suitable for the education of the son of the most Christian king. In addition to the depiction of miracles, the attention of the illuminated narrative focuses on the preaching of Christ, pausing to represent the passages of the New Testament, linked to the transmission of the word of Jesus, almost accentuating the didactic aspect of his earthly mission.
The setting in princely residences, especially in the interior scenes, and the presence of pompous characters, show the desire to recall a familiar milieu to the recipient’s mind, perhaps turning his reflection also on the moral and religious duties of a prince, his firmness in faith, the need for an example to be given to all, with a perfect Christian behavior.
The splendid realization of the facsimile of the Valois Codex would not have been possible, therefore, without having elements of comparison such as the Erasmus of Chantilly and the “twin” Evangeliary of Madrid. Thanks to them, a more than demonstrable hypothesis has taken shape, on the same commission and provenance but, above all, the field has been cleared of past blunders and unlikely attributions.
The Valois Codex thus places itself among the protagonists of an exciting cultural scenario and confirms itself as a small jewel, not so much for the evident value of its decoration but, rather, for the historical plots that weave its disturbing vicissitudes. Unfortunately, not a word about this from the Dominican fathers who immediately understood its value and its remarkable “birth”.
To find out more:
Valéerie Auclair, François Avril, Philippe Braunstein,
L’art du manuscrit de la Renaissance en France, Paris, Samogy éditions d’art ; Chantilly, Musée Condé, Château de Chantilly, 2001 (p. 26-29) Il se annuit en Italie, in Etudes offered à André Chastel,[Roma], Edizioni dell’Elefante; Flammarion, 1987, p. 121-133 Francois Avril et Nicole Reynaud, Le manuscrits à peintures en France, 1440-1520, Paris, Bibliotheque nationale de France, 1998