A most interesting article on the present state of the fine arts in

Spain, may be found in the Appendix to Sir Edmund Head’s Hand-Book of

the History of the Spanish and French schools of Painting. On the 13th

of June, 1844, a Royal ordinance was issued, establishing a Central

Commission “de Monumentos Historicos y Artisticos del Reino,” with local

or provincial commissions, to act in concert with the former body. The

chief object of the Commission was, to report upon the condition of

works of art, antiquities, libraries, etc., contained in the numerous

convents and monasteries, which had been suppressed, and what measures

had been adopted for their preservation. The members of the Commission

were divided into three sections, one for libraries and archives,

another for painting and sculpture, and a third for architecture and

archæology.

The first annual report of the Central Commission to the Secretary of

State for the Home Department is printed in pamphlet form, and embraces

the proceedings of the Commission from July 1st, 1844, to July 1st,

1845.

“Nothing can be more melancholy than the picture of Spain drawn by

this Commission. They tell us that the most valuable contents of

the conventual libraries had been thrown away or mutilated, and

that thousands of volumes had been sold as waste paper for three or

four reals the arroba, and had been exported to enrich foreign

libraries. A hope had been entertained of forming collections in

each province, of pictures and other works of art; the Commission

was soon undeceived as to the possibility of effecting this. Baron

Taylor and a host of foreign dealers had in some provinces carried

off all they could lay their hands upon; in others the

Commissioners tell us, ‘Many of the most esteemed works of art, the

glory and ornament of the most sumptuous churches, had perished in

their application to the vilest uses; in others scarcely any record

was preserved of what had been in existence at the time of the

dissolution of the monasteries, and no inventory or catalogue of

any kind had been made.’ Our only consolation perhaps is that these

books and works of art will be better appreciated in other

countries, and we may derive comfort from the views expressed by

Madame Hahn-Hahn.[A]

“It is clear that in such a state of things the plunder and

destruction of pictures must have been enormous. In the summary of

the proceedings of the Commission with reference to pictures,

which I shall proceed to give, the reader will see that all sorts

of obstacles to any claim of the central government were raised by

the local authorities; such a course was sometimes no doubt the

result of genuine Spanish obstinacy, strong in local attachments,

and hating all interference; but it too often probably originated

in the desire to conceal peculation and robbery on the part of the

alcalde, or the parish priest, or the sacristan, or the porter of a

suppressed convent. Let us remember that in all probability no one

of these functionaries ever received the salary which was due to

him, and that the unfortunate monks turned out of their convents

had neither interest nor duty in protecting what had ceased to be

theirs. If they did not (as it may be hoped) themselves carry off

what they could, they would abandon it to the first plunderer.

Added to which, the habitual feeling of every Spaniard is, that

what belongs to the government is fair game, and may be stolen with

a safe conscience.

“When all this is considered, it will not appear surprising that

bribery and robbery should have stripped the deserted convents, and

scattered the memorials of Spanish art and literature. It is

greatly to be feared too that the ignorance of the local

commissioners will cause many an interesting picture of early date

to be thrown on one side as barbarous and rude, and that few such

valuable records as the altar of the time of Don Jayme el

Conquistador, mentioned as rescued at Valencia, will be preserved

at all; indifferent second-rate copies, or imitations of the

Italian and Flemish masters, will probably pass current as the

staple article in most of the provincial museums, even where such

institutions are finally formed. At any rate, as a picture of the

state of Spain with reference to the Fine Arts, and as a sort of

guide to tourists, it may be useful to give, in alphabetical order,

as they are enumerated in the report, an abstract of the general

result as to the number of paintings got together in each

province.”

Here follows the result of the labors of the Commission in forty-eight

provinces, alphabetically arranged, presenting a sorry picture indeed.

Only a few of them can be given here, which may be taken as specimens of

the whole:

“_Almeria._--Here the existence of any local collection was denied,

but accidentally a catalogue was discovered containing a list of

one hundred and ninety-six pictures, which had been got together in

1837, and had apparently disappeared.

“_Burgos._--The Commissioners say, ‘On seeing the small number of

works of art in the province of Burgos, and after examining

carefully the communication of the “Gefe Político,” dated in April,

1844, together with the inventory which accompanied it, containing

only sixty-nine pictures and thirteen coins, deposited in the

Literary Institution of the capital of the province, we could not

refrain from signifying our surprise at finding so poor a museum in

a province which was at one time one of the richest in Spain in

monasteries.’

“_Cáceres._--Here again the Central Commission could get no account

of the works of art which were known to have existed, more

especially in the magnificent Hieronymite Monastery of Guadalupe,

near Logrosan. The Provincial Commission, acting on the authority

of that in Madrid, proceeded to ascertain what still remained

within the walls of the convent, when they were resisted by the

‘_Ayuntamiento_’ of the town of Guadalupe, who pretended that all

that was in the church and convent belonged to the parish, and not

to the state.

“_Cadiz._--Those who first collected the pictures took care to

catalogue them without giving the subjects or the sizes, and mixed

up together paintings and prints, so that it was impossible to say

what had been stolen. The report goes on to say that the sale of

certain pictures was not less irregular and culpable in itself,

than the lawfulness of the manner in which the produce of the sale

was applied appeared doubtful. The Local Commission of Arts and

Sciences thought it prudent to abstain from criminal proceedings

against any one; but the pictures yet remaining were in such a

state of decay that to protect themselves they caused a _procès

verbal_ to be drawn up, setting forth their condition.

“_Cuenca._--All sorts of plunder had gone on here, as elsewhere,

but the Local Commissioners seem to have exerted themselves to

rescue and place in safety what could yet be secured. The head of

the Priory of Santiago de Uclés resisted them. The number of

pictures collected is not given.

“_Gerona._--In August, 1842, the ‘Gefe Político’ reported the

existence of certain pictures, as he said, of little merit; but,

bad or good, they seem to have disappeared by 1845.

“_Granada._--Here a museum was formed in 1839, and in 1842 a

catalogue of eight hundred and eighty-four pieces of sculpture and

painting was transmitted to the Secretary of State. By January,

1844, it would appear that some, probably many, of them had been

stolen, and the report does not tell us how many remained.

“_Guadalajara._--It appears that out of four hundred and thirty

pictures, a few only were considered to be originals of any value,

and were attributed to Ribera, Zurbaran, Carreño, el Greco, and

others, for the most part Spanish masters. Twenty-five were

completely ruined.

“_Guipuzcoa._--The civil war in this province has been the cause

and the pretext for the disappearance of many works of art.

‘Since,’ says the report, ‘whilst many have been destroyed on the

one hand, on the other the state of affairs has thrown a shield

over those who have profited by the confusion, and have unjustly

appropriated the property of the state.’

“_Jaen._--The Local Commission of Jaen in the course of nine months

got together five hundred and twenty-three pictures, of which they

reported two hundred and eighty-five as worthless, and placed two

hundred and thirty-eight in the old Jesuit convent. The names of

Murillo, Zurbaran, Alonso Cano, Castillo, Orrente, Melgar, Juan de

Sevilla, Guzman, Coello, Titian, el Greco, and Albano, appear in

the catalogue.

“_Leon._--‘The necessity,’ says the report, ‘of quartering troops

in the various convents of this province, and the scandalous tricks

which we know to have been played with the works of art in the

same, are the causes why the catalogue, which was framed in

September of last year, appeared so imperfect and so scanty, since

the number of objects was reduced to sixty-one pictures and three

pieces of sculpture, deposited in the convent of the so-called

“Monjas Catalinas.”’ No more favorable account seems to have been

received at the time the report was drawn up.

“_Lérida._--Here too the civil war is said to have caused the

disappearance of most of the pictures in the convents; only

eighteen of any merit had been collected in April, 1844, but some

more were known to exist in the Seo de Urgel, where the local

authorities however refused to give them up to the government. The

Commission had not been able to obtain an accurate account even of

the eighteen.

“_Malaga._--A miserable return of six pieces sculpture and four

pictures was all that could be obtained by the Central Commission,

and they attribute this result to ‘the natural indolence and purely

mercantile spirit of that district.’ Probably the facility for

exportation had a good deal to do with the disappearance of the

various works of art which the report affirms to have been once

collected and deposited in various public buildings.”

DON DIEGO VELASQUEZ.

This great painter, justly esteemed the Head of the Spanish school, was

born at Seville in 1594. He pursued almost every branch of painting,

except the marine, and excelled almost equally in all.--Philip IV.

conferred on him extraordinary honors, appointed him his principal

painter, and ordained that none but the modern Apelles should paint his

likeness. When Rubens visited Madrid in 1627, to discharge the duties of

his embassy, he formed an intimate and lasting friendship with

Velasquez, which continued through life. “There is something in the

history of this painter,” says Mrs. Jameson, “which fills the

imagination like a gorgeous romance. In the very sound of his name, _Don

Diego Rodriguez Velasquez de Silva_--there is something mouth-filling

and magnificent. When we read of his fine chivalrous qualities, his

noble birth, his riches, his palaces, his orders of knighthood, and what

is most rare, the warm, real, steady friendship of a king, and added to

this a long life, crowned with genius, felicity, and fame, it seems

almost beyond the lot of humanity. I know of nothing to be compared with

it but the history of Rubens, his friend and cotemporary, whom he

resembled in character and fortune, and in that union of rare talents

with practical good sense which ensures success in life.” For a full

life of this painter, see Spooner’s Dictionary of Painters, Engravers,

Sculptors, and Architects.

VELASQUEZ HONORED BY THE KING OF SPAIN.

Philip IV. relaxed the rigor of Spanish etiquette in favor of Velasquez,

as Charles V. had done with Titian. He had his studio in the royal

palace, and the King kept a private key, by means of which he had access

to it whenever he pleased. Almost every day Philip used to visit the

artist, and would sit and watch him while at work. When Velasquez

produced his celebrated picture of the Infanta Margarita surrounded by

her maids of honor, with a portrait of himself, standing near at his

easel, the King conferred upon him a very unusual honor. After the

picture had been greatly admired, Philip remarked, “There is one thing

wanting,” and taking the palette and pencils, he drew in with his own

hand upon the breast of Velasquez’s portrait, the much coveted Cross of

Santiago! The nobles resented this profanation of a decoration hitherto

only given to high birth; but all difficulties were removed by a _papal

dispensation and a grant of Hidalguia_. Velasquez’s portraits baffle

description or praise--they produce complete illusion, and must be seen

to be known. He depicted the _minds_ of men; they live, breathe, and

seem about to walk out of their frames. The freshness, individuality,

and identity of every person are quite startling; nor can we doubt the

anecdote related of Philip IV., who, mistaking for the original the

portrait of Admiral Pareja in a dark corner of Velasquez’s room,

exclaimed, as he had been ordered to sea, “What! still here? Did I not

send thee off? How is it that thou art not gone?” But seeing the figure

did not salute him, the King discovered his mistake. While Velasquez

sojourned in Rome, he painted the portrait of Innocent X., which is now

the gem of the Doria collection, and in which, says Lanzi, “he renewed

the wonders which are recounted of those of Leo X. by Raffaelle, and

Paul III. by Titian; for this picture so entirely deceived the eye as to

be taken for the Pope himself.”

VELASQUEZ’S SLAVE.

Juan de Pareja was the slave of Don Diego Velasquez. Palomino and

others, say he was born in Mexico, of a Spanish father and an Indian

mother; but Bermudez says he was born at Seville. From being employed in

his master’s studio to attend on him, grind his colors, clean his

palette, brushes, &c., he imbibed a passion for painting, and sought

every opportunity to practice during his master’s absence. He spent

whole nights in drawing and endeavoring to imitate him, for he durst not

let him know of his aspiring dreams. At length he had made such

proficiency, that he resolved to lay his case before the King, Philip

IV., who was not only an excellent judge, but a true lover, of art. It

was the King’s custom to resort frequently to the apartments of

Velasquez, and to order those pictures which were placed with the

painted side to the wall, to be turned to his view. Pareja placed one of

his own productions in that position, which the King’s curiosity caused

to be turned, when the slave fell on his knees and besought the monarch

to obtain his pardon from his master, for having presumed to practice

painting without his approbation. Philip, agreeably surprised at his

address, and well pleased with the work, bid Pareja to rest contented.

He interceded in his behalf, and Velasquez not only forgave him, but

emancipated him from servitude; yet such was his attachment and

gratitude to his master, that he would never leave him till his death,

and afterwards continued to serve his daughter with the same fidelity.

He is said to have painted portraits so much in the style of Velasquez,

that they could not easily be distinguished from his works. He also

painted some historical works, as the Calling of St. Matthew, at

Aranjuez; the Baptism of Christ, at Toledo, and some Saints at Madrid.

LUIS TRISTAN.

This eminent Spanish painter was born near Toledo, according to

Palomino, in 1594, though Bermudez says in 1586. He was a pupil of El

Greco, whom he surpassed in design and purity of taste. His instructor,

far from being jealous of his talents, was the first to applaud his

works, and to commend him to the public. He executed many admirable

works for the churches and public edifices at Toledo and Madrid. It is

no mean proof of his ability, that Velasquez professed himself his

admirer, and quitting the precepts of Pacheco, he formed his style from

the works of Tristan.

TRISTAN AND EL GRECO.

Tristan was the favorite pupil of El Greco, to whom his master made over

many commissions, which he was unable to execute himself. In this manner

he was employed to paint the Last Supper, for the Hieronymite monastery

of La Sisla. The monks liked the picture; but they thought the price

which the artist asked for it, of two hundred ducats, excessive. They

therefore sent for El Greco to value it; but when this master saw his

pupil’s work, he raised his stick and ran at him, calling him a

scoundrel and a disgrace to his profession. The monks restrained the

angry painter, and soothed him by saying that the young man did not know

what he asked, and no doubt would submit to the opinion of his master.

“In good truth,” returned El Greco, “he does not know what he has asked;

and if he does not get _five hundred_ ducats for the picture, I desire

it may be rolled up and sent to my house.” The Hieronymites were

compelled to pay the larger sum!

ALONSO CANO.

This eminent Spanish painter, sculptor, and architect, was born at

Granada, according to Bermudez, in 1601. He early showed a passion for

the fine arts, and exhibited extraordinary talents. He excelled in all

the three sister arts, particularly in painting. There are many

excellent works by Cano in the churches and public edifices at Cordova,

Madrid, Granada, and Seville, which rank him among the greatest Spanish

painters. As a sculptor, he manifested great abilities, and executed

many fine works, which excited universal admiration. He also gained

considerable reputation as an architect, and was appointed architect and

painter to the king.

CANO’S LIBERALITY.

Cano executed many works for the churches and convents gratuitously.

When he was young, he painted many pictures for the public places of

Seville, which were regarded as astonishing performances. For these he

would receive no remuneration, declaring that he considered them

unfinished and deficient, and that he wrought for practice and

improvement.

CANO’S ECCENTRICITIES.

Palomino relates several characteristic anecdotes of Cano. An Auditor of

the Chancery of Granada bore especial devotion to St. Anthony of Padua,

and wished for an image of that saint from the hands of Cano. When the

figure was finished, the judge liked it much. He inquired what money the

artist expected for it: the answer was, one hundred doubloons. The

amateur was astonished, and asked, “How many days he might have spent

upon it?” Cano replied, “Some five-and-twenty days.” “Well,” said the

Auditor, “that comes to four doubloons per day.” “Your lordship reckons

wrong,” said Cano, “for I have spent fifty years in learning to execute

it in twenty-five days.” “That is all very well, but I have spent my

patrimony and my youth in studying at the University, and in a higher

profession; now here I am, Auditor in Granada, and if I get a doubloon a

day, it is as much as I do.” Cano had scarce patience to hear him out.

“A higher profession, indeed!” he exclaimed; “the king can make judges

out of the dust of the earth, but it is reserved for God alone to make

an Alonso Cano.” Saying this, he took up the figure and dashed it to

pieces on the pavement; whereupon the Auditor escaped as fast as he

could, not feeling sure that Cano’s fury would confine itself to the

statue.

CANO’S HATRED OF THE JEWS.

Another characteristic of Cano, was his insuperable repugnance for any

persons tainted with Judaism. It appears that in Granada the unhappy

persons of that nation who were _penitenciados_ (i.e. who had been

subjected to penance by the Inquisition) were in the habit of getting

what they could to support themselves, by selling linen and other

articles about the streets; they wore of course the _sambenito_, or

habit prescribed by the Inquisition as the mark of their penance. If

Cano met one of these men in the street, he would cross to the other

side, or get out of his way into the passage of a house. Occasionally,

however, in turning a corner, or by mere accident, one of these persons

would sometimes brush the garment of the artist, who then instantly sent

his servant home for another, whether cloak or doublet, and gave the

_polluted_ one to his attendant. The servant, however, did not dare to

wear what he had thus acquired, or his master would have turned him out

of the house forthwith--he could only sell it. It is added that the

manifest profit which the servant derived from his master’s scruples,

made the people doubt whether in all cases the Jew had really brushed

against the artist, or whether the servant had himself twitched the

cloak as the Jew passed. At any rate the servant has been heard to

remonstrate, and urge that “it was the slightest touch in the world,

sir--it cannot matter.” “Not matter?--you scoundrel, in such things as

these, everything matters;” and the valet got the cloak.

On one occasion, Cano’s housekeeper, with an excess of audacity, had

actually brought one of these _penitenciados_ into the house, and was

buying some linen of him; a dispute about the price caused high words,

and the master came, hearing a disturbance. What could he do? he could

not defile himself by laying hands on the miscreant, who got away while

the wrathful artist was looking for some weapon that he could use

without touching him. But the housekeeper had to fly to a neighbor’s;

and it was only after many entreaties, and performing a rigorous

quarantine, that she was received back again.

CANO’S RULING PASSION STRONG IN DEATH.

His passion for art, and his eccentric notions respecting the Jews, were

strongly manifested in his last sickness. He lived in the parish of the

city which contained the prison of the Inquisition. The priest of the

parish visited him upon his death-bed, and proposed to administer the

sacraments to him after confession, when the artist quietly asked him

whether he was in the habit of administering it to the Jews on whom

penance was imposed by the Inquisition. The priest replying in the

affirmative, Cano said, “Senor Licenciado, go your way, and do not

trouble yourself to call again; for the priest who administers the

sacraments to the Jews shall not administer them to me.” Accordingly he

sent for the priest of the parish of St. Andrew. This last, however,

gave offence in another form; he put into the artist’s hands a crucifix

of indifferent execution, when Cano desired him to take it away. The

priest was so shocked at this, that he thought him possessed, and was at

the point of exorcising him. “My son,” he said, “what dost thou mean?

this is the Lord who redeemed thee, and who must save thee.”--“I know

that well,” replied Cano, “but do you want to provoke me with that

wretched thing, so as to give me over to the devil? let me have a

simple cross, for with that I can reverence Christ in faith; I can

worship him as he is in himself, and as I contemplate him in my own

mind.” This was accordingly done, so that the artist was no longer

troubled by an indifferent specimen of sculpture.

RIBALTA’S MARRIAGE.

Francisco Ribalta, an eminent Spanish painter, studied first in

Valencia, where he fell in love with the daughter of his instructor. The

father refused his consent to the marriage; but the daughter promised to

wait for her lover while he studied in Italy. Ribalta accordingly went

thither and devoted himself to his art, studying particularly the works

of Raffaelle and the Caracci, and returned, after a considerable time,

to his native country. Quickened by love, he had attained a high degree

of excellence. On arriving at the city of Valencia, he went to the house

of his beloved, who meanwhile had proved faithful; and her father being

away from home, he finished the sketch of a picture in his studio, in

his mistress’ presence, and left it to produce its effect upon the

hitherto inflexible parent. The latter, on returning, asked his daughter

who had been there, adding, with a look at the picture, “This is the man

to whom I would marry thee, and not to that dauber, Ribalta.” The

marriage of course took place, immediately; and the fame of Ribalta soon

procured him abundant employment.

APARICIO, CANOVA, AND THORWALDSEN.

Aparicio, a Spanish painter who died in 1838, possessed little merit,

but great vanity. Among other works, he painted the Ransoming of 1700

slaves at Algiers, which occurred in 1768, by order of Charles III. When

the picture was exhibited at Rome, Canova, who knew the man, told

Aparicio, “This is the finest thing in the world, and you are the first

of painters.” Soon after, Thorwaldsen came in and ventured a critique,

whereupon the Don indignantly quoted Canova. “Sir, he has been laughing

at you,” said the honest Dane, to whom Aparicio never spoke again.

BARTOLOME ESTEBAN MURILLO.

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