CLAUDE FROLLO.

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 Hotel de Tancarville, belonging to Master Francois 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 Abbe 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 chateau of Winchestre (Bicetre).

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."