ABSTRACT
Despite the incalculable loss of early books and manuscripts over the centuries in BriĴany, serendipitous discoveries in the archives offer an unexpected glimpse onto aĴitudes toward books. We also learn of their function and value as educational primers, intermediaries in prayer and salvation, and entertainment. Prayer books, for instance, served men and women from cradle to grave. When Marie Marguerite de Valois wrote to her husband, Olivier de Coëtivy, lord of Taillebourg, to buy “des heures pour mes petits enfants qui sont a l’ecole” [books of hours for my small children who are in school], she confirmed the role of books of hours as primers for elementary reading, not only for religious instruction.1 Her request also confirms the availability of ready-made books of hours in the late fiĞeenth century. Olivier V de Clisson, baron of Pont Château and former constable of France, stipulated in his testament of 1406 that: “deux de mes breviaires, lesquels soient enchaisnez sur la sepulture de madite compagne et de moy, pour l’usage des chapelains et clercs qui y viendront dire les heures” [two of my breviaries should be chained to the tomb of my said wife and myself (at the Church of Notre-Dame at Josselin), for the use of chaplains and clerics who will come there to say the hours].2 Another testimony of manuscript usage comes from a report relating the deaths of Breton merchants in a dispute at Bordeaux in 1459. The report places partial blame on the captain of Franc-Archers, garrisoned at the Porte la Grave, who was so absorbed one night in reading his Lancelot du lac that his delayed response failed to quell a riot.3
