In the Days of the Guild

  V

  THE BOX THAT QUENTIN CARVED

  HOW QUENTIN OF PERONNE LEARNED HIS TRADE WHEN A BOY IN AMIENS

  Any one who happened to be in the market-place of Amiens one sunshinysummer morning in the last quarter of the twelfth century, might haveseen a slim, dark, dreamy-eyed boy wandering about with teeth set ina ripe golden apricot, looking at all there was to be seen. But thechances were that no one who was there did see him, because people werevery busy with their own affairs, and there was much to look at, farmore important and interesting than a boy. In fact Quentin, who had comewith his father, Jean of Peronne, to town that very morning, was notimportant to any one except his father and himself.

  They had been living in a small village of Northern France, where theyhad a tiny farm, but when the mother died, Jean left the two older boysto take care of the fields, and with his youngest son, who was most likethe mother, started out to find work elsewhere. He was a good mason,and masons were welcome anywhere. In all French cities and many townscathedrals, castles or churches were a-building, and no one would thinkof building them of anything but stone.

  While Quentin speculated on life as it might be in this new andinteresting place, there was a shout of warning, a cry of terror from awoman near by, a dull rumble and crash, and a crowd began to gather inthe street beside the cathedral. Before the boy could reach the place,a man in the garb of a Benedictine monk detached himself from the groupand came toward him.

  "My boy," he said kindly, "you are Quentin, from Peronne? Yes? Do notbe frightened, but I must tell you that your father has been hurt. Theyare taking him to a house near by, and if you will come with me, I willtake care of you."

  The next few days were anxious ones for Quentin. His father did notdie, but it was certain that he would do no more work as a mason foryears, if ever. One of the older brothers came to take him home, andit was taken for granted that Quentin would go also. But the boy hada plan in his head.

  There was none too much to eat at home, as it was, and it would be along time before he was strong enough to handle stone like his father.Brother Basil, the monk who had seen his father caught under the fallingwall, helped to rescue him, and taken care that he did not lose sightof his boy, had been very kind, but he did not belong in Amiens; he wason his way to Rome. Quentin met him outside the house on the day thatPierre came in from Peronne, and gave him a questioning look. He waswondering if Brother Basil would understand.

  The smile that answered his look was encouraging.

  "Well, my boy," said Brother Basil in his quaintly spoken French, "whatis it?"

  Quentin stood very straight, cap in hand. "I do not want to go home,"he said slowly. "I want to stay here--and work."

  "Alone?" asked the monk.

  Quentin nodded. "Marc and Pierre work all day in the fields, and I amof no use there; they said so. Pierre said it again just now. I am notstrong enough yet to be of use. There is work here that I can do."

  He traced the outline of an ancient bit of carving on the woodwork ofthe overhanging doorway with one small finger. "I can do that," he saidconfidently.

  Brother Basil's black eyebrows lifted a trifle and his mouth twitched;the boy was such a scrap of a boy. Yet he had seen enough of the oakenchoir-stalls and the carved chests and the wainscoting of Amiens to knowthat a French wood-carver is often born with skill in his brain and hisfingers, and can do things when a mere apprentice that others must betrained to do. "What have you done?" he said gravely.

  "I carved a box for the mother, and when the cousin Adele saw it shewould have one too. It was made with a wreath of roses on the lid, butI would not make roses for any one but the mother; Adele's box haslilies, and a picture of herself. That she liked better."

  Brother Basil was thinking. "Quentin," he said, "I know a wood-carverhere, Master Gerard, who is from Peronne, and knows your talk betterthan I. He was a boy like you when he began to learn the work of thehuchier and the wood-carver, and he might give you a place in his shop.Will your father let you stay?"

  "He will if I get the chance," said Quentin. "If I ask him now, Pierrewill say things."

  Like many younger brothers, Quentin knew more about the older membersof his family than they knew about him.

  Brother Basil's smile escaped control this time. He turned and strodeacross the market-place to the shop of Master Gerard, beckoning Quentinto follow.

  "Master," he said to the old huchier, who was planing and chipping andshaping a piece of Spanish chestnut, "here is a boy who has fallen inlove with your trade."

  Master Gerard glanced up in some surprise. "He likes the trade, doeshe?" was the gruff comment he made. "Does the trade like him?"

  "That is for you to say," said Brother Basil, and turning on his heelhe went out, to walk up and down in the sunshine before the door andmeditate on the loves of craftsmen for their crafts.

  "What can you do?" asked the old man shortly, still working at his pieceof chestnut.

  Quentin took from his pouch a bit of wood on which he had carved, verycarefully, the figure of a monk at a reading-desk with a huge volumebefore him. He had done it the day before after he had been with BrotherBasil to bring some books from the Bishop's house, and although thefigure was too small and his knife had been too clumsy to make much ofa portrait of the face, he had caught exactly the intent pose of thehead and the characteristic attitude of the monk's angular figure.Master Gerard frowned.

  "What sort of carving is that!" he barked. "The wood is coarse and thetools were not right. You tell me you did it?"

  Quentin stood his ground. "It is my work, Master," he said. "I had onlythis old knife, and I know the wood is not right, but it was all that Ihad."

  "And you want to learn my trade--eh?" said the old man a little morekindly. "You have no father?"

  Quentin explained. Master Gerard looked doubtful. He had met boys beforewho liked to whittle, and wished to work in his shop; he had apprenticeswhose fathers were good workmen and wished their sons to learn morethan they could teach; but very seldom did he meet a boy who would workas he himself had worked when he was a lad, never satisfied with whathe did, because the vision in his mind ran ahead of the power in hisfingers. He was an old man now, but he was still seeing what might bedone in wood-working if a man could only have a chance to come back,after he had spent one lifetime in learning, and use what he hadlearned, in the strength of a new, clear-sighted youth. He had sons ofhis own, but they were only good business men. They could sell thework, but they had no inspirations.

  "I will let you try what you can do," he said at last, "that is, ifyour father is willing. Tell him to come and see me before he goeshome. And look you--come back when you have told him this, and copythis work of yours in the proper fashion, with tools and wood which Iwill give you."

  Quentin bowed, thanked the old wood-carver, walked, by a great effort,steadily out of the shop and answered a question of Brother Basil's, andthen flashed like a squirrel in a hurry across the square and up thenarrow winding stair in the side street where his father lodged, withthe news. Pierre began two or three sentences, but never finished them.Jean of Peronne knew all about Master Gerard, and was only too glad tohear of such a chance for his motherless boy. And all the happy, sunlitafternoon Quentin sat in a corner, working away with keen-edged toolsthat were a joy to the hand, at a smooth-grained, close-fibered bit ofwood that never splintered or split.

  Master Gerard was what might be called a carpenter, or cabinet-maker.He did not make doors or window-frames, or woodwork for houses, becausethe great houses of that day were built almost entirely of stone.Neither did he make furniture such as chairs, tables, or bureaus,because it was not yet thought of. Kings' households and great familiesmoved about from castle to castle, and carried with them by boat, orin heavy wagons over bad roads, whatever comforts they owned. Modernfurniture would have been fit for kindling-wood in a year, but ancientFrench luggage was built for hard travel. Master Gerard made chests ofsolid, well-seasoned wood, chosen with care a
nd put together withoutnails, by fitting notch into notch at the corners. These were calledhuches, and Master Gerard was a master huchier.

  These huches were longer and lower than a large modern trunk, and couldbe set one on another, after they were carried up narrow twistingstairways on men's shoulders. The lid might be all in one piece, butmore often it was in halves, with a bar between, so that when the chestwas set on its side or end the lids would form doors. Ledges at top andbottom protected the corners and edges, and there might be feet thatfitted into the bottom of the chest and made it easier to move about.The larger ones were long enough to use for a bed, and in these thetapestries that covered the walls, the embroidered bed-hangings, thecushions and mattresses to make hard seats and couches more comfortable,and the magnificent robes for state occasions, could be packed for anysort of journey. Huches were needed also for silver and gold statedishes, and the spices, preserved fruits and other luxuries needed forstate feasts. It was desirable to make the chests beautiful as wellas strong, for they were used as furniture; there might be a statebedstead, a huge wardrobe and one or two other furnishings in theapartments used by great folk, but the table was a movable one made ofboards on trestles, and the carved huches, decorated with the heraldicemblems of the owner, served innumerable purposes. When one sees thespecimens that are left, it does not seem surprising that when kingsand queens went anywhere in the Middle Ages they went, if possible, bywater. Luggage of that kind could be carried more easily by barge thanby wagon.

  After the first day, when he finished the small carved figure of BrotherBasil for his master to see, Quentin did almost anything but carving.He ran errands, he sharpened tools, he helped a journeyman at his work,he worked on common carpentering which required no artistic skill. Thework which Master Gerard undertook was not such as an apprentice couldbe trusted to do. Quentin, watching as closely as he could all that wasdone in the shop, saw that one sort of wood was chosen for one use, andanother kind for a different job; he saw how a tool was handled to geta free, bold curve or a delicate fold of drapery, and he found out moreabout the trade in a year than most modern carpenters ever learn.

  It was hot and uncomfortable in Amiens that summer. Life inside walls,among houses crowded and tall, was not like life in a country village,but it was not in Quentin to give up. When he felt like leaving thenoisy, treeless town for the forest he would try to make a design of theflowers he remembered, or carve a knotted branch with the tools that hewas allowed to use. He knew that when he should be entrusted with thecarving of a chest, if that time ever came, he would have to be able tomake his own design, if necessary, for that was a part of the work.

  Chests were carved on the lids and ends, which showed when they wereset up, and sometimes they were covered with carving. Master Gerardhad a chest of his own, full of patterns which he brought out to showhis patrons now and then, but which no one else ever touched. Thesepatterns, however, were rarely followed exactly. Each great family hadits own heraldic device, and the leopard, the dragon, the dolphin, thefleur-de-lis, the portcullis, or whatever it might be, must form animportant part of the decoration. Some of the patterns, while theirproportions were perfect, were too simple for the taste of the one whoordered the chest, and had to be varied. Some were too elaborate for asmall piece of work, and had to be made simpler. The wood-carver hadvery little chance of success unless he was also an artist, as heusually was.

  One day a great piece of carving was finished, and Master Gerardhimself went to see that the workmen carried it safely; it was a chestin the form of a half-circle, for the tapestries and embroideries ofthe cathedral, in which the state mantle and robes of the Bishop couldbe laid flat with all their heavy gold-work. The youngest journeyman,Pol, who was left to mind the shop, slipped out a few minutes later,charging Quentin strictly to stay until he came back.

  Quentin had no objection. He wanted to try a pattern of his own fora small huche that was finished all but the carving. He had in minda pattern of Master Gerard's, a border simple yet beautiful. It wascopied from the inner wall of a Greek temple, although he did not knowthat. It was a running vine with leaves and now and then a flower, notlike any vine that he had ever seen. The inclosed oblong on the lid wasdivided into halves by a bar, in the form of a woman's figure. Quentinthought that that was rather too stately a decoration for a small chest,and he decided to use a simple rounded bar, with grooves, which he knewthat he could do well.

  He was not sure how the border went. Of course, he might wait untilMaster Gerard came back and ask to see the pattern, but he did not quitelike to do that. It might seem presuming. He wondered how it would do totry apricot twigs laid stem to tip in a curving line, a ripe fruit inplace of the flower of the pattern, and blossom-clusters here and there.He tried it cautiously, drawing the outline first on a corner, and itlooked so well that he began to carve the twigs.

  He was finishing the second when he heard a voice in the doorway.

  "Does Master Gerard do his work with elves? Or have the fairies takenhim and left a changeling?" The voice was musical with laughter, and theboy looked up to see a lovely and richly-robed lady standing within thedoor. A little behind her was a young man in the dress of a troubadour,and servingmen stood outside holding the bridles of the horses.

  Quentin sprang to his feet and bowed respectfully. "Master Gerard is butabsent for an hour or two," he said; "shall I run to the Cathedral andfetch him?"

  "Nay," the lady answered, sinking into the high-backed chair in thecorner, "it is cool here, and we will await him. Ranulph, come look atthis coffret. I maintain that the fairies teach these people to workin wood as they do. Saw you ever the like?"

  The troubadour bent over the just-begun carving. "This is no boy's play;this is good work," he said. "You have the right notion; the eye and thehand work together like two good comrades."

  "My lord shall see this when he comes. I like the work." She touchedthe cheek of the apricot with a dainty finger. "Where did you get thepattern?"

  Quentin looked down, rather shyly; he did not feel sure that he wouldbe believed. "I had no pattern," he said. "I remembered one that MasterGerard made for a great house a month since--"

  "And so do I!" laughed the lady. "Now I know where I saw that border.Therefore, not having the copy before you----"

  "You invented this variation. Upon my word, the race of wood-carvershas not come to an end," laughed the young man. "I think that his RoyalHighness will like this coffret well."

  "'UPON MY WORD, THE RACE OF WOOD-CARVERS HAS NOT YET COMETO AN END'"]

  All in a flash it came to Quentin who this was. Some time before he hadheard that the Princess Margaret, daughter of the French King, was inthe city, with her husband, Prince Henry of England. It was for thePrince that Master Gerard had made that other chest. Things linkedthemselves together in this world, it seemed, like the apricots andblossoms of his design.

  "Finish the chest," said the Princess after a pause. "I will have itfor a traveling casket. Can you carve a head on the top--or two heads,facing one another, man and woman?"

  "Like this?" asked Quentin, and he traced an outline on the bench. Itwas the lady's beautiful profile.

  Master Gerard came in just then, and Pol came slinking in at the backdoor. The next day Quentin was promoted to Pol's place, and finishedhis chest in great content and happiness. It was the beginning in along upward climb to success.