The Cloister and the Hearth | Page 7

of Holland and Zealand, Lord of
Friesland, Count of Flanders, Artois, and Hainault, Lord of Salins and
Macklyn - was versatile.
He could fight as well as any king going; and lie could lie as well as
any, except the King of France. He was a mighty hunter, and could read
and write. His tastes were wide and ardent. He loved jewels like a
woman, and gorgeous apparel. He dearly loved maids of honour, and
indeed paintings generally; in proof of which he ennobled Jan Van
Eyck. He had also a rage for giants, dwarfs, and Turks. These last stood
ever planted about him, turbaned and blazing with jewels. His agents
inveigled them from Istamboul with fair promises; but the moment he

had got them, he baptized them by brute force in a large tub; and this
done, let them squat with their faces towards Mecca, and invoke
Mahound as much as they pleased, laughing in his sleeve at their
simplicity in fancying they were still infidels. He had lions in cages,
and fleet leopards trained by Orientals to run down hares and deer. In
short, he relished all rarities, except the humdrum virtues. For anything
singularly pretty or diabolically ugly, this was your customer. The best
of him was, he was openhanded to the poor; and the next best was, he
fostered the arts in earnest: whereof he now gave a signal proof. He
offered prizes for the best specimens of orfevrerie in two kinds,
religious and secular: item, for the best paintings in white of egg, oils,
and tempera; these to be on panel, silk, or metal, as the artists chose:
item, for the best transparent painting on glass: item, for the best
illuminating and border-painting on vellum: item, for the fairest writing
on vellum. The burgomasters of the several towns were commanded to
aid all the poorer competitors by receiving their specimens and sending
them with due care to Rotterdam at the expense of their several burghs.
When this was cried by the bellman through the streets of Tergou, a
thousand mouths opened, and one heart beat - Gerard's. He told his
family timidly he should try for two of those prizes. They stared in
silence, for their breath was gone at his audacity; but one horrid laugh
exploded on the floor like a petard. Gerard looked down, and there was
the dwarf, slit and fanged from ear to ear at his expense, and laughing
like a lion. Nature, relenting at having made Giles so small, had given
him as a set-off the biggest voice on record. His very whisper was a
bassoon. He was like those stunted wide-mouthed pieces of ordnance
we see on fortifications; more like a flower-pot than a cannon; but ods
tympana how they bellow!
Gerard turned red with anger, the more so as the others began to titter.
White Catherine saw, and a pink tinge came on her cheek. She said
softly, "Why do you laugh? Is it because he is our brother you think he
cannot be capable? Yes, Gerard, try with the rest. Many say you are
skilful; and mother and I will pray the Virgin to guide your hand."
"Thank you, little Kate. You shall pray to our Lady, and our mother
shall buy me vellum and the colours to illuminate with."

"What will they cost, my lad?"
"Two gold crowns" (about three shillings and fourpence English
money).
"What!" screamed the housewife, "when the bushel of rye costs but a
groat! What! me spend a month's meal and meat and fire on such vanity
as that: the lightning from Heaven would fall on me, and my children
would all be beggars."
"Mother!" sighed little Catherine, imploringly.
"Oh! it is in vain, Kate," said Gerard, with a sigh. "I shall have to give
it up, or ask the dame Van Eyck. She would give it me, but I think
shame to be for ever taking from her."
"It is not her affair," said Catherine, very sharply; "what has she to do
coming between me and my sun?" and she left the room with a red face.
Little Catherine smiled. Presently the housewife returned with a
gracious, affectionate air, and two little gold pieces in her hand.
"There, sweetheart," said she, "you won't have to trouble dame or
demoiselle for two paltry crowns."
But on this Gerard fell a thinking how he could spare her purse.
"One will do, mother. I will ask the good monks to let me send my
copy of their 'Terence:' it is on snowy vellum, and I can write no better:
so then I shall only need six sheets of vellum for my borders and
miniatures, and gold for my ground, and prime colours - one crown will
do.'
"Never tyne the ship for want of a bit