_ In fact, Claude Frollo was no common person.
He belonged to one of those middle-class families which
were called indifferently, in the impertinent language of the
last century, the high ~bourgeoise~ or the petty nobility. This
family had inherited from the brothers Paclet the fief of
Tirechappe, which was dependent upon the Bishop of Paris, and
whose twenty-one houses had been in the thirteenth century
the object of so many suits before the official. As possessor
of this fief, Claude Frollo was one of the twenty-seven
seigneurs keeping claim to a manor in fee in Paris and its
suburbs; and for a long time, his name was to be seen inscribed
in this quality, between the Hôtel de Tancarville, belonging
to Master François Le Rez, and the college of Tours, in the
records deposited at Saint Martin des Champs.
Claude Frollo had been destined from infancy, by his parents,
to the ecclesiastical profession. He had been taught to
read in Latin; he had been trained to keep his eyes on the
ground and to speak low. While still a child, his father had
cloistered him in the college of Torchi in the University.
There it was that he had grown up, on the missal and the
lexicon.
Moreover, he was a sad, grave, serious child, who studied
ardently, and learned quickly; he never uttered a loud cry in
recreation hour, mixed but little in the bacchanals of the Rue
du Fouarre, did not know what it was to ~dare alapas et capillos
laniare~, and had cut no figure in that revolt of 1463, which
the annalists register gravely, under the title of "The sixth
trouble of the University." He seldom rallied the poor
students of Montaigu on the ~cappettes~ from which they derived
their name, or the bursars of the college of Dormans on their
shaved tonsure, and their surtout parti-colored of bluish-green,
blue, and violet cloth, ~azurini coloris et bruni~, as says the
charter of the Cardinal des Quatre-Couronnes.
On the other hand, he was assiduous at the great and the
small schools of the Rue Saint Jean de Beauvais. The first
pupil whom the Abbé de Saint Pierre de Val, at the moment
of beginning his reading on canon law, always perceived, glued
to a pillar of the school Saint-Vendregesile, opposite his
rostrum, was Claude Frollo, armed with his horn ink-bottle, biting
his pen, scribbling on his threadbare knee, and, in winter,
blowing on his fingers. The first auditor whom Messire Miles
d'Isliers, doctor in decretals, saw arrive every Monday morning,
all breathless, at the opening of the gates of the school
of the Chef-Saint-Denis, was Claude Frollo. Thus, at sixteen
years of age, the young clerk might have held his own, in
mystical theology, against a father of the church; in canonical
theology, against a father of the councils; in scholastic
theology, against a doctor of Sorbonne.
Theology conquered, he had plunged into decretals. From
the "Master of Sentences," he had passed to the "Capitularies
of Charlemagne;" and he had devoured in succession, in his
appetite for science, decretals upon decretals, those of
Theodore, Bishop of Hispalus; those of Bouchard, Bishop of
Worms; those of Yves, Bishop of Chartres; next the decretal
of Gratian, which succeeded the capitularies of Charlemagne;
then the collection of Gregory IX.; then the Epistle of
~Superspecula~, of Honorius III. He rendered clear and
familiar to himself that vast and tumultuous period of civil law
and canon law in conflict and at strife with each other, in the
chaos of the Middle Ages,--a period which Bishop Theodore
opens in 618, and which Pope Gregory closes in 1227.
Decretals digested, he flung himself upon medicine, on the
liberal arts. He studied the science of herbs, the science of
unguents; he became an expert in fevers and in contusions,
in sprains and abcesses. Jacques d' Espars would have
received him as a physician; Richard Hellain, as a surgeon.
He also passed through all the degrees of licentiate, master,
and doctor of arts. He studied the languages, Latin, Greek,
Hebrew, a triple sanctuary then very little frequented. His
was a veritable fever for acquiring and hoarding, in the matter
of science. At the age of eighteen, he had made his way
through the four faculties; it seemed to the young man that
life had but one sole object: learning.
It was towards this epoch, that the excessive heat of the
summer of 1466 caused that grand outburst of the plague
which carried off more than forty thousand souls in the
vicomty of Paris, and among others, as Jean de Troyes states,
"Master Arnoul, astrologer to the king, who was a very
fine man, both wise and pleasant." The rumor spread in the
University that the Rue Tirechappe was especially devastated by
the malady. It was there that Claude's parents resided, in
the midst of their fief. The young scholar rushed in great
alarm to the paternal mansion. When he entered it, he found
that both father and mother had died on the preceding day.
A very young brother of his, who was in swaddling clothes,
was still alive and crying abandoned in his cradle. This was
all that remained to Claude of his family; the young man
took the child under his arm and went off in a pensive mood.
Up to that moment, he had lived only in science; he now
began to live in life.
This catastrophe was a crisis in Claude's existence.
Orphaned, the eldest, head of the family at the age of nineteen,
he felt himself rudely recalled from the reveries of school to
the realities of this world. Then, moved with pity, he was
seized with passion and devotion towards that child, his
brother; a sweet and strange thing was a human affection
to him, who had hitherto loved his books alone.
This affection developed to a singular point; in a soul so
new, it was like a first love. Separated since infancy from
his parents, whom he had hardly known; cloistered and immured,
as it were, in his books; eager above all things to study
and to learn; exclusively attentive up to that time, to his
intelligence which broadened in science, to his imagination,
which expanded in letters,--the poor scholar had not yet had
time to feel the place of his heart.
This young brother, without mother or father, this little
child which had fallen abruptly from heaven into his arms,
made a new man of him. He perceived that there was something
else in the world besides the speculations of the Sorbonne,
and the verses of Homer; that man needed affections; that
life without tenderness and without love was only a set
of dry, shrieking, and rending wheels. Only, he imagined, for
he was at the age when illusions are as yet replaced only by
illusions, that the affections of blood and family were the sole
ones necessary, and that a little brother to love sufficed to fill
an entire existence.
He threw himself, therefore, into the love for his little
Jehan with the passion of a character already profound,
ardent, concentrated; that poor frail creature, pretty, fair-
haired, rosy, and curly,--that orphan with another orphan
for his only support, touched him to the bottom of his heart;
and grave thinker as he was, he set to meditating upon Jehan
with an infinite compassion. He kept watch and ward over
him as over something very fragile, and very worthy of care.
He was more than a brother to the child; he became a mother
to him.
Little Jehan had lost his mother while he was still at the
breast; Claude gave him to a nurse. Besides the fief of
Tirechappe, he had inherited from his father the fief of
Moulin, which was a dependency of the square tower of Gentilly;
it was a mill on a hill, near the château of Winchestre
(Bicêtre). There was a miller's wife there who was nursing a
fine child; it was not far from the university, and Claude
carried the little Jehan to her in his own arms.
From that time forth, feeling that he had a burden to bear,
he took life very seriously. The thought of his little brother
became not only his recreation, but the object of his studies.
He resolved to consecrate himself entirely to a future for
which he was responsible in the sight of God, and never to
have any other wife, any other child than the happiness and
fortune of his brother. Therefore, he attached himself more
closely than ever to the clerical profession. His merits, his
learning, his quality of immediate vassal of the Bishop of
Paris, threw the doors of the church wide open to him. At
the age of twenty, by special dispensation of the Holy See,
he was a priest, and served as the youngest of the chaplains
of Notre-Dame the altar which is called, because of the late
mass which is said there, ~altare pigrorum~.
There, plunged more deeply than ever in his dear books,
which he quitted only to run for an hour to the fief of Moulin,
this mixture of learning and austerity, so rare at his age, had
promptly acquired for him the respect and admiration of the
monastery. From the cloister, his reputation as a learned man
had passed to the people, among whom it had changed a little,
a frequent occurrence at that time, into reputation as a sorcerer.
It was at the moment when he was returning, on Quasimodo
day, from saying his mass at the Altar of the Lazy, which was
by the side of the door leading to the nave on the right, near
the image of the Virgin, that his attention had been attracted
by the group of old women chattering around the bed for
foundlings.
Then it was that he approached the unhappy little creature,
which was so hated and so menaced. That distress, that
deformity, that abandonment, the thought of his young brother,
the idea which suddenly occurred to him, that if he were to
die, his dear little Jehan might also be flung miserably on the
plank for foundlings,--all this had gone to his heart
simultaneously; a great pity had moved in him, and he had
carried off the child.
When he removed the child from the sack, he found it greatly
deformed, in very sooth. The poor little wretch had a wart on
his left eye, his head placed directly on his shoulders, his
spinal column was crooked, his breast bone prominent, and his
legs bowed; but he appeared to be lively; and although it was
impossible to say in what language he lisped, his cry indicated
considerable force and health. Claude's compassion increased
at the sight of this ugliness; and he made a vow in his heart
to rear the child for the love of his brother, in order that,
whatever might be the future faults of the little Jehan, he
should have beside him that charity done for his sake. It
was a sort of investment of good works, which he was effecting
in the name of his young brother; it was a stock of good works
which he wished to amass in advance for him, in case the little
rogue should some day find himself short of that coin, the only
sort which is received at the toll-bar of paradise.
He baptized his adopted child, and gave him the name of
Quasimodo, either because he desired thereby to mark the day,
when he had found him, or because he wished to designate by
that name to what a degree the poor little creature was
incomplete, and hardly sketched out. In fact, Quasimodo,
blind, hunchbacked, knock-kneed, was only an "almost." _