Written in a year when France’s crown was uncertain and its future contested, this document records an ordinary human obligation — proof that even in moments of national fracture, daily life insisted on order, memory, and accountability.
This original French manuscript dates to 1422, during one of the most unstable periods of the Hundred Years’ War. Composed on handmade rag paper, it bears the unmistakable marks of its age: softly undulating fibers, naturally darkened edges, and iron gall ink that has fully bonded with the paper over six centuries.
The hand is confident and practiced — that of a trained legal or notarial scribe — with expressive ascenders, deliberate corrections, and marginal annotations that reveal the document’s working life. This was not written to be admired, but to stand as proof: a witnessed agreement, a financial obligation, or a formal settlement meant to endure beyond spoken promises.
What gives this piece its power is not ornament, but purpose. In a year when kings died, borders shifted, and authority was contested, this paper carried weight. It protected interests. It preserved memory. It was trusted to outlast uncertainty — and it did.
That this document survives in such sound condition is itself extraordinary. Its strong rag fibers and stable ink speak to both the skill of its makers and the care of those who preserved it, generation after generation.
Shipped with archival care, this document will arrive wrapped with acid-free tissue within a protective box and accompanied by a provenance card.
In museum practice, provenance often refers as much to an object’s identity and context as to its ownership history. This card records what is known about the document itself, following that tradition.
Written in a year when France’s crown was uncertain and its future contested, this document records an ordinary human obligation — proof that even in moments of national fracture, daily life insisted on order, memory, and accountability.
This original French manuscript dates to 1422, during one of the most unstable periods of the Hundred Years’ War. Composed on handmade rag paper, it bears the unmistakable marks of its age: softly undulating fibers, naturally darkened edges, and iron gall ink that has fully bonded with the paper over six centuries.
The hand is confident and practiced — that of a trained legal or notarial scribe — with expressive ascenders, deliberate corrections, and marginal annotations that reveal the document’s working life. This was not written to be admired, but to stand as proof: a witnessed agreement, a financial obligation, or a formal settlement meant to endure beyond spoken promises.
What gives this piece its power is not ornament, but purpose. In a year when kings died, borders shifted, and authority was contested, this paper carried weight. It protected interests. It preserved memory. It was trusted to outlast uncertainty — and it did.
That this document survives in such sound condition is itself extraordinary. Its strong rag fibers and stable ink speak to both the skill of its makers and the care of those who preserved it, generation after generation.
Shipped with archival care, this document will arrive wrapped with acid-free tissue within a protective box and accompanied by a provenance card.
In museum practice, provenance often refers as much to an object’s identity and context as to its ownership history. This card records what is known about the document itself, following that tradition.
