The Psalms of David with Illuminations by James S. Freemantle

In 1906, English expatriate James S. Freemantle married his young bride, Clara.  He chose as a wedding gift one which would require his attention for the next thirty years.  During their lifetime together in India, Freemantle created an illuminated manuscript of the King James version of The Psalms of David.  In 1981, their son, Stephen,   its publication. 

In the “Foreword,” Stephen writes that his father received no “special art instruction,” nor was he “religious.”  Yet, every brush stroke of calligraphy and illustration visually enhances David’s one hundred and fifty psalms.  The ancient songs of one of the earliest and successful kings of Israel are enriched sublimely by Freemantle’s illuminations.  Splendid companions of flowers, wildlife, and landscapes animate David’s poetry. 

For example in Psalm 148, David writes, “The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me.”  Now imagine these eight words positioned opposite an exquisite stalk of purple and yellow irises swaying in a breeze.  Each“t” in the sentence is crossed uniformly at an angle.  Their directions, towards heaven, offer inspiration to examine Holy Scripture in an extraordinary way.  Envision, also, the word “Lord” etched in bold thick capital letters, towering over smaller, less powerful script.  Since the embellishments necessitate a slow read, the sanctity of the text permeates with new meaning.  The weaving of David’s psalms with Freemantle’s art sings of the glory of God.

Unlike the museum-preserved, ornate, vellum manuscripts prepared by the monks of the Middle Ages, this magnificent three-hundred and forty-one page volume of weighty paper is of our own time.  The cream-colored ribbon marker adorns gracefully the glossy pages, beckoning our touch. Its daintiness contrasts God manifest in bright purple violas, yellow larks,blue cascading water, and green tranquil paths.

When Stephen was young, he recalls seeing his father on many evenings arrange his “specially ordered” inks. He remembers watching him feather the “tails” of the letters together seamlessly.  This labor of love progressed slowly—Freemantle drawing about a half page an evening—resulting in its completion only months before he died. Today, the occasional gilding smear or red smudge is a reminder of the artist’s long dedicated hours.  These human traces mingle gently with divine inspiration to reveal the profound witness  God shapes of our expressions of love.