_UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL
KNOWLEDGE._
THE
GALLERY OF PORTRAITS:
WITH
MEMOIRS.
VOLUME VII.
LONDON:
CHARLES KNIGHT, 22, LUDGATE-STREET.
1837.
[PRICE ONE GUINEA, BOUND IN CLOTH.]
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
Duke-Street, Lambeth.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PORTRAITS AND BIOGRAPHIES
CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME.
Page.
1. Gustavus Adolphus 1
2. Marc Antonio Raimondi 10
3. Coke 15
4. Gibbon 25
5. Scaliger 32
6. Penn 39
7. De Thou 49
8. Chatham 55
9. Mozart 66
10. Loyola 73
11. Brindley 81
12. Schiller 87
13. Bentham 97
14. Catherine II. 103
15. Defoe 112
16. Hume 121
17. De Witt 129
18. Hampden 137
19. Dr. Johnson 145
20. Jefferson 153
21. Wilberforce 162
22. Dr. Black 169
23. Bacon 177
24. Sir Walter Scott 185
[Illustration:
_Engraved by J. Posselwhite._
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.
_From a Print by Paul Pontius, after a Picture by Van Dyck._
Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight & C^o. Ludgate Street._
]
[Illustration]
GUST. ADOLPHUS.
During the fourteenth, and the beginning of the fifteenth century,
Sweden, lying under vassalage to the crown of Denmark, suffered the
evils which commonly belong to that condition. Gustavus Vasa, after a
series of romantic adventures, established the independence of his
country, and was deservedly elected by the Swedish Diet, in 1523, to
wear its crown. The same kingdom to which he gave a place among free
states, his grandson, Gustavus Adolphus, raised from the obscurity of a
petty northern power, to rule in Germany, and to be the terror of the
Church of Rome.
The establishment of the Reformation was coeval with the independence of
Sweden; and a fundamental law forbade any future sovereign to alter the
national religion, or to admit Roman Catholics to offices of power and
trust. For infringing this principle, Sigismond, by election King of
Poland, the lineal successor of Gustavus Vasa, was set aside by the
Diet, and the crown was given to his father’s younger brother, Charles,
Duke of Sudermania. Charles died, and was succeeded by his son Gustavus
Adolphus, December 31, 1611; the high promise of whose youth induced the
States to abridge the period of minority, and admit him at once to the
exercise of regal power, though he had but just attained the age of
seventeen, being born December 9, 1594.
He had been trained up in the knowledge likely to be serviceable to a
king and a soldier. He spoke the Latin language, then a universal medium
of communication, with uncommon energy and precision; he conversed
fluently in French, Italian, and German; he had studied history,
political science, mathematics, and military tactics; and commencing
with the part of a musketeer, he had been made master, by practice, of
all the details of a soldier’s life. He was capable of very severe
application to abstruse study, and is said to have passed whole nights
in reading the military history of the ancients. He was of uncommon
stature and strength, and his constitution was early inured to labour
and endurance.
Gustavus’s situation, at his accession, was critical. The King of Poland
laid claim to his dominions, and Denmark and Muscovy were in arms
against him. The danger was most pressing on the side of Denmark; and
thither Gustavus’s first efforts were directed. But in Christian IV. he
had to contend with an able enemy, from whom he gained no advantage; and
after one unsuccessful campaign he accommodated the quarrel at the
expense of some concessions. In the war with Muscovy he was more
fortunate; and he reduced the Czar to purchase peace in 1617, by the
sacrifice of the provinces which border the Gulf of Finland and the
Baltic sea. During these years of warfare, Gustavus found leisure to
bestow attention upon internal improvements. He devoted much thought and
care upon strengthening the Swedish navy, esteeming that to be his
surest defence against invasion; he sought to encourage commerce; he
purified the administration of justice, by rendering judges less
dependant upon the crown, and by abridging the tediousness and expense
of lawsuits; and he laboured to devise means for increasing the revenue
by judicious arrangement, without adding to the burdens of the people.
Both in peace and war he received the most valuable assistance from his
zealous, faithful, and sagacious minister, the celebrated Oxenstiern.
In 1620 Gustavus travelled incognito through the chief towns of Germany.
At Berlin he formed acquaintance with Maria Eleonora, sister to the
Elector of Brandenburg, whom he espoused at Stockholm in November of the
same year. One daughter, the famous Christina, his successor, was the
offspring of this marriage.
The King of Poland’s enmity was not seconded by his ability. He
endeavoured in vain to shake the fidelity of Gustavus’s subjects, and he
tried the fortune of war with no better success. In the contests between
the cousins, which occurred in the first ten years of Gustavus’s reign,
the advantage was always on the side of Sweden. Gustavus was desirous of
peace, and forbore to press his superiority. But Sigismond’s hostility
was nourished and stimulated by the leading Catholic powers, Spain and
Austria; and he made so bad a return for this moderation, that in 1621
the war was renewed in a more determined manner, and in the course of
eight years Livonia, Courland, and Polish Prussia, were gradually
subjected to Sweden. During this time Gustavus was no careless spectator
of the Thirty Years’ War, which was raging in Germany. However well
inclined he might be to step forward as the defender of the Protestant
cause, he could not do so with effect while his exertions were demanded
in Poland; and though he made an offer of assistance to the Protestants
in 1626, it was clogged with conditions which induced them to decline
his proposals. But in 1629, under the mediation of France, he concluded
a truce for six years with Sigismond, retaining possession of the
conquered provinces; and being thus relieved from all fear of Poland,
and guaranteed against injury from Denmark by the interest of that
country in checking the progress of the Imperial arms, he found himself
qualified to take the decisive part which he had long desired in the
affairs of Germany. How far his determination was influenced by personal
and ambitious motives, how far it was due to patriotism and religious
zeal, it must be left to each inquirer to decide for himself. The crisis
was one of extreme importance: for the temporal rights of the whole
German empire were endangered by the inordinate and seemingly prosperous
ambition of the House of Austria; and the Protestant states in
particular had reason to apprehend the speedy destruction of their own,
and the re-establishment of the Roman Catholic church. And if the
influence of the Emperor, Ferdinand II., supported by the papal
hierarchy re-established in its great power and rich benefices through
the north of Germany, were suffered unchecked to extend itself to the
Baltic sea, the liberties of Sweden and Denmark, and the very existence
of the Reformation on the Continent, seemed to be involved in no remote
danger. To pull down the power of Ferdinand and the Catholic League thus
became of vital moment to the King of Sweden. But though the Protestant
princes were ready to invoke his assistance in secret complaints, none
of them dared to conclude an open treaty with a distant prince, and a
kingdom hitherto obscure, and thus to incur the resentment of the
Emperor, whose formidable armies, anxious above all things for the
renewal of war and rapine, were at hand. Moreover, the jealousy and
selfishness of the chiefs of the Protestant union formed a greater
obstacle to the King of Sweden’s views, than even the weakness of their
individual states. Unable, therefore, to obtain the cordial and willing
co-operation of those who were linked to him by the bond of a common
interest, Gustavus had only the alternative to abandon them to their
fate and share the dangers which he sought to obviate, or to take the
equivocal and rarely defensible step of occupying their territories and
compelling their assistance, an unsolicited, though an honourable and
friendly, ally. He chose the latter.
The shortest apology for this determination, which as a matter of policy
was opposed by Oxenstiern, may be found in the substance of the king’s
answer to that minister’s objections, as it is abridged by Schiller in
his History of the Thirty Years’ War. “If we wait for the enemy in
Sweden, in losing a battle, all is lost: all, on the contrary, is gained
if we obtain the first success in Germany. The sea is large, and we have
extensive coasts to watch. Should the enemy’s fleet escape us, or our
own be beaten, it is not possible for us to prevent a landing. We must
therefore use all our efforts for the preservation of Stralsund. So long
as this harbour shall be in our power Ave shall maintain the honour of
our flag in the Baltic, and shall be able to keep up a free intercourse
with Germany. But in order to defend Stralsund we must not shut
ourselves up in Sweden; but must pass over with an army into Pomerania.
Speak to me then no more of a defensive war, by which we shall lose our
most precious advantages. Sweden herself must not behold the standards
of the enemy; and, if we are vanquished in Germany, it will still be
time enough to have recourse to your plan.”
The army which Gustavus carried into Germany consisted only of 15,000
men; but it was formidable from its bravery, its high discipline, and
the reliance which the general and the troops felt upon each other. “All
excesses,” we quote from Schiller, “were punished in a severe manner;
but blasphemy, theft, gaming, and duelling, met with a more severe
chastisement. The Swedish articles of war prescribed moderation; there
was not to be seen in the Swedish camp, even in the tent of the king,
either gold or silver. The general’s eye watched carefully over the
manners of the soldiers, while it en-flamed their courage in battle.
Every regiment must each morning and evening form itself in a circle
round its chaplain, and, in the open air, address prayers to the
Almighty. In all this the legislator himself served as a model. An
unaffected and pure piety animated the courage of his great mind.
Equally free from that gross incredulity which leaves without restraint
the ferocious movements of the barbarian, and the grovelling bigotry of
a Ferdinand, who abased himself in the dust before the Divinity, and yet
disdainfully trampled on the necks of mankind, in the height of his good
fortune, Gustavus was always a man and a Christian; amid all his
devotion, the hero and the king. He supported all the hardships of war
like the lowest soldier in his army; his mind was serene in the midst of
the most furious battle; his genius pointed out the results to him
beforehand; everywhere present, he forgot death which surrounded him,
and he was always found where there was the greatest danger. His natural
valour made him too often lose sight of what was due to the general, and
this great king terminated his life as a common soldier. But the coward
as well as the brave followed such a leader to victory, and not any of
the heroical actions which his example had created ever escaped his
penetrating eye. The glory of their sovereign inflamed the entire
Swedish nation with a noble confidence; proud of his king, the peasant
of Finland and Gothland joyfully gave up what his poverty could afford;
the soldier willingly shed his blood; and that elevated sentiment which
the genius of this single man gave to the nation survived him a
considerable time.”
Gustavus took a solemn farewell of the States of the kingdom, May 20,
1630, presenting to them his daughter Christina, as his heir and
successor. Adverse winds delayed his departure, and it was not till the
24th of June that he reached the coast of Pomerania. He disembarked his
army on the islands of Wollin and Usedom, at the mouth of the Oder, and
having taken possession of the strong town of Stettin on the same river,
established a sure footing on the continent, and secured his means of
retreat and communication with Sweden. To this proceeding he gained a
reluctant consent from the Duke of Pomerania, who, though wearied and
disgusted with the ravages of the Imperial troops, was unwilling to
commit himself in defence of that which still appeared the weaker cause.
But having no force to prevent the hostile, if he refused to warrant the
friendly, occupation of his country, he made a virtue of necessity, and
allied himself closely with the Swede.
Gustavus’s progress at first produced no uneasiness at Vienna: the
courtiers called him the snow-king, and said in derision that he would
melt in his progress southward. But in the first campaign he nearly
cleared Pomerania of the Imperialists; and he was strengthened by the
accession of the Duke of Mecklenburg, who, having been despoiled of his
territories in favour of Wallenstein, now openly raised troops in
support of the King of Sweden. As winter approached, the Imperialists
negotiated for a suspension of arms; but Gustavus replied, “The Swedes
are soldiers in winter as well as summer, and are not disposed to make
the peaceable inhabitants of the country support any longer than
necessary the evils of war. The Imperialists may do as they choose, but
the Swedes do not intend to remain inactive.”
Meanwhile he met with cold support from the Protestant princes, in whose
cause he had taken arms. The chief of these was the Elector of Saxony,
who felt a jealousy, not unnatural, of the power and the ultimate views
of the King of Sweden, and was himself ambitious to play the first part
among the Protestants of Germany. Seeking to act independently, and to
hold the balance between Sweden and Austria, he invited the Protestant
States to a conference at Leipsic, February 6, 1613, at which it was
determined to demand from the Emperor the redress of grievances, and to
levy an army of 40,000 men, to give weight to their remonstrances. On
the 13th of January, Gustavus had concluded an alliance with France, by
the terms of which he was to maintain in Germany 30,000 men, France
furnishing a subsidy of 400,000 dollars yearly, to use his best
endeavours to reinstate those princes who had been expelled from their
dominions by the Emperor, or the Catholic League, and to restore the
empire to the condition in which it existed at the commencement of the
war. Richelieu tried to bring the princes who had joined in the
convention of Leipsic to accede to this alliance, but with very partial
success. A few promised to support the Swedes, when opportunity should
favour; but the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg kept aloof. During
these negotiations Gustavus made progress in Brandenburg. The memorable
siege and destruction of Magdeburg, May 10, by Tilly, for a time cast a
gloom over the Protestant cause. Gustavus has been censured, both as a
man and a soldier, for suffering that well-deserving and important place
to fall without risking a battle in its behalf. His defence rests upon
the interposed delays, and the insincerity of the Electors, which
involved him in the risk of total destruction if he advanced thus far
without having his retreat secured. But even this signal misfortune
proved finally serviceable to the Protestant cause. It induced Gustavus
to adopt a different tone with his brother-in-law of Brandenburg, who,
finding no alternative but a real union or an open rupture with Sweden,
wisely chose the former. The pride of success led the Imperial generals
into acts of insolence, which induced the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel,
first of the German princes, to conclude a close and hearty alliance
with Sweden, and left the Elector of Saxony no choice between entire
dependence on the already exasperated Emperor, and an effective support
of the only power that could protect him. Accordingly he formed a
junction with the Swedes, and the united forces joined battle with Tilly
not far from Leipsic, September 7, 1631. The opposing armies were nearly
equal in strength. The stress of the conflict fell on the right wing of
the Swedes, where the King commanded in person. The fiery Pappenheim led
seven impetuous charges of the whole Austrian cavalry against the
Swedish battalions without success, and, seven times repulsed, abandoned
the field with great loss. The Saxons on the left wing were broken by
Tilly. But the day was restored by a decisive movement of the Swedish
right wing upon Tilly’s flank, and the Imperialists dispersed in utter
confusion. Leipsic, Merseburg, and Halle speedily fell into the victor’s
hands; and no obstacle existed to check his advance even to the heart of
the Emperor’s hereditary dominions. This was a tempting prospect to an
ambitious man: but it would have abandoned Germany to Tilly, who was
already occupied in raising a fresh army; and the King of Sweden
determined to march towards Franconia and the Rhine, to encourage by his
presence the Protestants who wavered, and to cut the sinews of the
Catholic League, by occupying the territories, and diverting the
revenues of its princes. Bohemia lay open to the Elector of Saxony, and
he left it to that prince to divert the Emperor’s attention, by carrying
the war into that country.
From Leipsic, Gustavus pursued his triumphant way to the southward. The
rich bishopric of Wurtzburg fell into his hands, almost without
resistance. Nuremburg placed itself under his protection. The nobility
and citizens of Franconia declared in his favour as soon as they were
relieved from the presence of the Imperial troops, and when his drum
beat for recruits, crowds flocked to the Swedish standards. He pursued
his course along the Maine to Frankfort, which opened its gates, and
received a Swedish garrison; and being strengthened by the junction of
the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, with 10,000 men, he crossed the Rhine,
and, after a short siege, became master of Mentz by capitulation,
December 13, 1631. There he gave his troops a few weeks’ repose, being
himself busily engaged in diplomatic labours. Early in the following
year he completed the conquest of the Palatinate, and threatened to
carry the war into Alsace and Lorraine.
The advance of Tilly recalled the King of Sweden into Franconia, at the
head of 40,000 men. Tilly then retreated into Bavaria, closely followed
by the enemy, who passed the Danube at Donawerth, forced the passage of
the Lech, and carried the war into the yet uninjured plains of Bavaria.
The passage of this river in the face of the enemy, April 5, is regarded
as one of the King of Sweden’s most remarkable exploits. His old
antagonist Tilly received a mortal wound on this day. Munich, the
capital, and the greater part of the Electorate, yielded without
resistance. The Emperor was now reduced to the greatest difficulties.
Bohemia was overrun by the Saxons, the Austrian dominions lay open to
invasion from Bavaria, Tilly was dead, the Duke of Bavaria discouraged
by his reverses, and inclined to purchase peace by consenting to a
neutrality. There was but one man capable by the charm of his name and
the power of his talents to compete with Gustavus, and he was
Wallenstein. In his retirement that wildly ambitious man had long been
scheming to bring his master to such a degree of abasement as should
enable him to dictate his own terms of reconciliation and assistance;
and the time was come when the Emperor saw himself obliged to consent to
demands which almost superseded his own authority, and invested his
dangerous subject with more than Imperial power. For this event
Wallenstein’s plans had long been maturing: a powerful army started up
at once at his command, and when it suited his secret purposes to act,
Bohemia was cleared of the Saxons more quickly than it had been
conquered by them. He then formed a junction with the Duke of Bavaria,
and at the head of 60,000 men advanced against Gustavus, who, not having
above 18,000 or 20,000 men with him, entrenched himself strongly under
the walls of Nuremburg. Wallenstein took up a strong position against
him, and the two generals, each hoping to exhaust the other by scarcity
of provisions, remained inactive till August 21, when Gustavus, having
drawn together his scattered forces, made a desperate and fruitless
attempt to carry the Imperial lines. Frustrated in this, he returned to
his encampment, which he quitted finally, September 8, and marched into
Bavaria.
Wallenstein followed his example on the 12th, and retired without any
hostile attempt on Nuremburg. He had determined to fix his winter
quarters in Saxony, hoping by the terror of his arms to detach the
Elector from the Swedish alliance; and had already advanced beyond
Leipsic, on his march against Dresden, when he was recalled by the rapid
approach of the King of Sweden. Gustavus arrived at Nuremburg November
1, and entrenched himself there to wait for reinforcements which he
expected. Wallenstein, in the belief that his adversary would be in no
hurry to quit his strong position, proceeded to canton his troops near
Merseburg, in such a manner that they might easily be called into action
at the shortest notice, and detached Pappenheim with a large division of
the army upon distant service. As soon as Gustavus heard of the latter
movement, he marched in haste to attack the diminished enemy, and
Wallenstein, though with inferior troops, was not slow to meet him. The
King of Sweden’s last victory was gained November 6, 1632, in the plain
of Lutzen. Suffering from a recent wound, he did not wear armour, and
early in the day, as he mingled in the front of the battle with his
usual ardour, his left arm was broken by a musket-ball. As he retreated
from the press he received another bullet in the back, and fell. His
body was stripped by the Imperialists, a furious contest took place for
the possession of it, and it was soon buried under a heap of slain. The
Duke of Weimar took the chief command, and completed the victory.
It was probably fortunate for Gustavus’s honour that his brilliant
career was here cut short. He died when no more successes could have
enhanced the fame as a soldier which he had already acquired; at a
period, says Schiller, when he had ceased to be the benefactor of
Germany, and when the greatest service that he could render to German
liberty was to die. However pure his views had been at the commencement
of the war, success had taught him ambition. This was shown by the
homage to Sweden which he exacted from Augsburg and other free cities of
the empire, by his design of converting the archbishopric of Mentz into
an appanage of Sweden, and by his reluctance to reinstate the Elector
Palatine in the conquered Palatinate, and the conditions which he
finally exacted for so doing. And whether or not he aimed at the
Imperial throne, it is probable that his life and prosperity would have
proved no less dangerous to the constitution of Germany, and the welfare
of the Catholic states, than to the Protestant, the ambition of
Ferdinand II., and the Catholic League. But dying thus early, he has
preserved the reputation of sincere piety, humanity in the field, heroic
courage, consummate policy, and skill united to success in the art of
war, unequalled by any general since the downfall of Rome. Of the
improvements which he effected in military tactics we have no room to
speak: a full account of them, and of his whole system, will be found in
the Essay prefixed to Harte’s ‘History of Gustavus Adolphus.’ A more
concise and spirited account of the King of Sweden’s exploits in
Germany, than is contained in that laborious book, will be found in
Schiller’s ‘History of the Thirty Years’ War,’ which is translated both
into French and English.
[Illustration: [From the original in the British Museum.]]
[Illustration]
M. A. RAIMONDI.
The invention of the art of taking impressions on paper from an engraved
plate is, on the authority of Vasari, usually ascribed to Tommaso
Finiguerra, a celebrated enameller and chaser, of Florence, who, having
occasion to make a sulphur cast from a piece of plate in 1460, observed
that the charcoal dust and dirt which had collected in the engraved
lines of the metal were brought off upon the sulphur, so as to present a
counterpart of his work. Struck by the appearance, he tried to produce a
similar effect by passing moistened paper over the plate, under pressure
from a roller; and the experiment succeeded. This is a natural and a
probable account; from the earliest antiquity the graver has been
employed in embellishing armour, vessels of the precious metals, and
other valuable articles of use and ornament; and it is certain that the
earliest Italian engravers were, by profession, workers in gold and
silver. It is strange indeed that so obvious an extension of the uses of
engraving should not have been observed sooner; but all experience
teaches us that a very important discovery may long lie very near the
surface, before it meets with an observer sufficiently clear-sighted or
fortunate to bring it to light. The Germans, however, contest priority
of invention in this art with the Italians. The matter is of no great
importance, even to the national fame of the two lands. Those prints
which date before Albert Durer in the one, and before Marc Antonio in
the other, possess little value either for their design or their
execution, however precious they may be to collectors for their rarity,
or to antiquaries and artists as historical records of the art.
[Illustration:
_Engraved by W. Holl._
MARC ANTONIO RAIMONDI.
_From a Print by Rosaspina, after a Picture by Raphael._
Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight & C^o. Ludgate Street._
]
Marc Antonio Raimondi was born at Bologna, about the year 1488: the
dates of his birth and death are not mentioned by Vasari, who is the
sole original authority for the private history of this artist. He
learnt the art of design from Francesco Francia, or Raibolini, after
whom he has sometimes been denominated Marc Antonio di Francia: his
first instructor in the use of the graver is said to have been a
goldsmith. And as Hogarth set out on his career of art by ornamenting
tankards and shop-bills, so Marc Antonio at first gained his livelihood
as a jeweller’s workman. The first of his copper-plates which bears a
date represents the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, and was engraved in
1505[1]; but he is said to have executed others before it, among which
we find one only, the Four Horsemen, mentioned by name.
Footnote 1:
Heinekin says 1502, by mistake. The print of Apollo and Hyacinth bears
also the date of 1505.
Induced by the desire of improvement in his art, he took a journey to
Venice. Here, for the first time, he saw Albert Durer’s engravings on
wood; which he admired so highly, both for correctness of outline and
accuracy of workmanship, that he bought the series of thirty-six pieces,
representing the passion of our Saviour, at a price which very nearly
exhausted his slender purse. These wood-cuts he copied upon copper, with
so much success that they were mistaken for the originals; and Vasari
says that Albert Durer complained in great anger to the Venetian senate
of the injury thus done to him, and obtained no other redress than an
order that Antonio should abstain from imitating his signature. The
Baron Heineken, on the contrary, asserts that the existing copies of
these prints do not bear the German artist’s mark, and that no one has
seen copies which do bear it; and he believes the story, if founded on
fact, to refer to a series of prints representing the life of the Virgin
Mary, in seventeen prints, which are exactly copied from Durer, even to
his cipher.
From Venice Marc Antonio went to Rome, where, to his inestimable
benefit, he became acquainted with Raphael, who perceived and assisted
his talents, certainly by advice, and, some say, even by manual help.
The outlines of Antonio’s plates after Raphael have been said to be
executed by the painter himself: but this is solely conjecture; and it
appears improbable that, in an art depending so much upon manual
dexterity, the more unpractised hand should be the superior in precision
and delicacy. But that Raphael was very much pleased with the justice
which Antonio rendered to his designs is certain. He sent to Albert
Durer copies of the Bolognese engraver’s works; and Durer, however
jealous he might be, and however justly displeased at past occurrences,
could not deny his rival’s merit, and acknowledged the courtesy by
sending impressions of his own works in return. The honour of Raphael’s
patronage, the admirable choice of subjects afforded by his pictures,
and the real benefit which any lover and cultivator of art must have
derived from his society, all combined to raise Antonio’s fame; and many
pupils came to study under him, among whom Marco di Ravenna, Agostino di
Musis, and Giulio Bonasoni, whose plates are highly valued by
collectors, may be named as most eminent.
After the death of Raphael, Antonio was largely employed by Raphael’s
distinguished pupil, Giulio Romano, and executed, among other things,
the designs which accompanied Aretin’s notorious sonnets. These
engravings attracted the just indignation of Pope Clement VII., who cast
the artist into prison. His release was procured by the interference and
interest of Cardinal Giulio de’ Medici and Baccio Bandinelli; and, as a
testimony of gratitude to the latter, Antonio executed the engraving
from his picture of the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence. This print is
twenty-one inches by sixteen in dimensions, and is the largest and one
of the finest of the artist’s works. It procured for him the entire
forgiveness and favour of the offended pontiff. The plates to Aretin
were so carefully suppressed, that not a single specimen of them is now
certainly known to exist.
When Rome was plundered by the Spaniards, in 1520, Marc Antonio lost all
his property. He returned to Bologna after this misfortune, and was
still leading a retired life there in 1539: the battle of Centaurs and
Lapithæ bears date in that year, and is the last certain memorial of
him. The combat of Hector and Achilles, dated in 1546, though attributed
to Marc Antonio, is considered by the Baron Heineken to be at least
doubtful. Malvasia relates that a Roman nobleman, for whom Antonio had
engraved a print of the Massacre of Innocents, with an undertaking never
to repeat the subject, caused the artist to be assassinated for
re-engraving it. But it casts a doubt on the truth of this story, that
it is not even alluded to by Vasari.
Marc Antonio’s plates passed through the hands of Tommaso Barlacchi,
Antonio Salamanca, Antonio Lafreri, Nicholas Van Aelst, and Rossi, or De
Rubeis, of Rome. Of these publishers, the impressions which bear
Salamanca’s name, are most esteemed: but the best are those which have
no publisher’s name at all. The Baron Heineken, in his elaborate
‘Dictionnaire des Artistes dont nous avons des Estampes,’ (from which
this memoir is little more than a free translation,) has given a minute
catalogue of the works attributable to Marc Antonio. He divides them
into four classes:—prints really engraved by the master, and bearing his
marks, in number, 120; prints engraved by him, but without mark, 126;
prints doubtful, 66; and prints which belong to his era, and to his
school, but are by unknown hands. In this reckoning, series like the
Passion of Christ, which consist of many plates, are counted only as
single works. Strutt, in his Dictionary of Engravers, and Bryan, in his
Dictionary of Painters and Engravers, give lists of the more remarkable
of Antonio’s productions; Bryan is the fuller, but neither of them
pretend to compete in extent and detail with the catalogue of Heineken;
whom Strutt has closely followed in his biographical notice of this
artist. He has given fac-similes of this engraver’s marks, seven in
number, in plate 9, vol. ii. We quote the following passages in
illustration of Marc Antonio’s merits and peculiar characteristics, from
the Essay on the History of Engraving, which is prefixed to Strutt’s
work.
“His engravings are often defective in point of harmony, and the skilful
management of the light and shadow, which gives them an unfinished and
sometimes disgustful appearance to the common eye. On the other hand, a
graceful flow of outline, joined with purity and correctness of drawing
in its greatest latitude, are found in the best works of this master;
but these beauties rarely attract the general notice without the
assistance of neatness, or what is more properly called high finishing,
especially in the present day (1786). The eye, long accustomed to
neatness and delicacy of finishing, especially where the judgment is not
capable of distinguishing the greater essentials of the art, will
necessarily consider that neatness to be the criterion of excellency.
Hence it is that the works of the old masters are fallen into such
general disrepute: their beauties are overlooked, and their faults are
viewed through a magnifying medium. And it is perhaps because Marc
Antonio stands the first among the old masters, that he has received a
greater share of censure than the rest.
“The excellency of this master consists in the correctness of his
drawing, the character of his heads, and the pure idea his works convey
of the simplicity and elegance of the originals they are taken from: and
they may be considered as admirable drawings, not highly finished
indeed, but sufficiently so to preserve the design and spirit of the
masters from whom he worked.
“That persons possessed of little judgment in the arts should not
discover the merits of this engraver, cannot surprise us; but that
artists themselves, and experienced collectors, should join in the
common censure, is much more extraordinary. In these instances, we may
conclude, he has been too hastily, as he has certainly been unjustly,
condemned, without a proper examination of his works in their native
state. Such as generally appear at sales, and too many of those in the
hands of collectors, are either worn-out impressions, or what is still
worse, retouched ones. In these the primitive beauty is entirely lost.
Let any one, for instance, examine the common impressions of that
admirable engraving of this master, representing the Martyrdom of St.
Lawrence, from Baccio Bandinelli, which is the largest of all his
prints, and he will find the outlines darkened with black strokes upon
the lights, and the demitints upon the flesh increased, so as nearly to
equal the deep shadows; by which means all the breadths of light are
destroyed, and cut into a variety of disagreeable divisions, which
produce a disgustful and inharmonious effect. But in a fine impression
of the same plate, there are none of these disagreeable crudities to be
found; the shadows are judiciously softened and blended into the lights,
and harmonized with each other; the outlines are neat and correct; and
the characters of the heads admirably well expressed. In short, he would
scarcely believe it possible that the same plate should furnish
impressions, so beautiful in one state, and so truly execrable in the
other. But the wonder ceases, if he be told that the plate, passing
through a variety of hands, has been frequently retouched, and that by
careless and unskilful men. We may further add, that as the name of Marc
Antonio stands high among the curious collectors, the ignorant are too
frequently imposed upon by bad copies, or spurious productions.”
A very excellent and extensive collection of the engravings of Marc
Antonio, and of his pupils, exists in the British Museum, which, with
the exception of a few of the extremely rare prints, presents a better
assemblage than most public or private cabinets can boast of, whether as
to number, beauty of impression, or condition.
[Illustration: [Poesy, from a print by Marc Antonio.]]
[Illustration:
_Engraved by J. Posselwhite._
COKE.
_From a Picture in the Hall of Sergeant’s Inn, Chancery Lane._
Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight & C^o. Ludgate Street._
]
[Illustration]
COKE.
Edward Coke, the only son of Robert Coke, of Mileham, in the county of
Norfolk, and Winifred, daughter and one of the heirs of William
Knightley, of Morgrave-Knightley, in the same county, was born at
Mileham, February 1, 1551. He was descended, both by his father’s and
his mother’s side, from ancient and opulent families. His father, who
was a bencher of Lincoln’s Inn, died in the year 1561, when Edward Coke
was ten years old. Before that event he had been sent to the Free
Grammar School at Norwich, whence, in September, 1567, he removed to
Cambridge, and was admitted as a fellow commoner at Trinity College.
After having spent three years at the University he returned into
Norfolk for a few months, and then went to London to commence his legal
education. According to the practice of that time, he took the first
step of his legal course by becoming a member of Clifford’s Inn, a house
of Chancery, or inferior inn, dependent upon the Inner Temple, and was
admitted into the latter society, April 24, 1572. He was called to the
bar in Easter Term, 1578. During the continuance of his studies in the
Inner Temple, he is said to have greatly distinguished himself in the
exercises called mootings and readings, which constituted a necessary
part of the education of an advocate in former times, and which were
carried on with a degree of interest and excitement almost incredible to
those who at the present day peruse the details of these grotesque and
antiquated proceedings.
In the course of the year after his call to the bar, the society of the
Inner Temple appointed him reader at Lyon’s Inn; and the learning
displayed by him, in the conduct of the exercises at which he presided
in this capacity, raised for him a high reputation as a lawyer, and
opened the way to that extensive practice at the bar, which he acquired
with a degree of rapidity almost without a parallel in the history of
the profession. In the first term after he was called to the bar he
conducted an argument of much nicety and importance, which is reported
by the name of Lord Cromwell’s Case; “And this,” he says, in his own
report of it (4 Rep. 146), “was the first cause that the author of this
book moved in the King’s Bench.” Less than three years afterwards he was
associated with Popham, the Solicitor General, in arguing before the
Chancellor and the twelve judges the important case in which was laid
down the celebrated doctrine in the law of real property, well known as
the ‘Rule in Shelley’s Case.’ From that period until he became Solicitor
General in 1592, his practice was enormous: it appears from the Reports
of that time that there was scarcely a single motion or argument before
the court of King’s Bench in which he was not engaged. Professional
honours were the legitimate consequence of this large business in the
courts; in 1586 he was chosen Recorder of Norwich, and four years
afterwards was made a bencher of the Inner Temple. In January, 1592, on
the resignation of Serjeant Fleetwood, he was elected Recorder of
London; but, in the following June, on being appointed Solicitor
General, he resigned that office. In the same summer he became Reader of
the Inner Temple, and selected the Statute of Uses for the subject of
his readings. He says that he had composed seven readings for this
occasion, and had delivered five of them to a large audience, consisting
of not less than 160 members of the society, when the appearance of the
plague in the Middle Temple, which raged with great violence in the
autumn of that year, compelled him to discontinue them, and to leave
London abruptly for his house at Huntingfield in Suffolk. Such was the
honour and respect in which he was held by the profession, that on this
occasion he was accompanied on his journey, as far as Romford, by a
procession composed of nine benchers and forty other members of the
Inner Temple. In March, 1594, he was appointed Attorney General, and, as
the office of Solicitor continued vacant until the close of the
following year, the duties and labours of both offices during that
interval devolved upon him.
At this period originated the animosity between Coke and Bacon, which
prevailed with little intermission during the life of the latter. As
soon as the office of Attorney General became vacant, in consequence of
the removal of Sir Thomas Egerton, the Earl of Essex used his most
strenuous efforts to induce the Queen to bestow that place upon Bacon,
instead of promoting Sir Edward Coke from the inferior office of
Solicitor General. The letters of Bacon, written to Essex and others,
with relation to this intrigue, abound with sarcastic and contemptuous
expressions respecting Coke, whose high reputation and great experience
certainly marked him out as fitter for the office than his rival, whose
practice at the bar was never extensive, and who was then scarcely known
in the courts. After Coke had obtained the appointment of Attorney
General, Bacon and his friends charged him first with intriguing to keep
the emoluments of both offices in his own hands, and afterwards with
recommending Serjeant Fleming for the vacant solicitorship and
encouraging the antipathies and prejudices of the Queen against Bacon.
There is, however, no evidence to show that these imputations were true;
and if Coke really urged the appointment of Fleming, it might well be
with the view of obtaining a more experienced and efficient coadjutor
than Bacon.
In truth, the state services imposed upon the Attorney General at this
time were extremely laborious. The severity of the laws recently
introduced against Roman Catholics had occasioned a succession of plots
by foreign adventurers against the person of the Queen, more or less
dangerous, the investigation of which was necessarily committed to the
Attorney General. The treasons of Lopez, the Queen’s physician, of
Patrick Cullen, and of Williams and Yorke, all occurred about this
period; and the business of constant examination at the Tower, in
addition to his Star Chamber duties and his undiminished practice in the
common-law courts, must have imposed a weight of labour and
responsibility upon Coke, which no mind of ordinary activity and energy
could have sustained. Whole volumes of examinations in these cases of
treason, taken by himself and written with his own hand, are still
preserved at the State Paper Office, and sufficiently attest his zeal
and assiduity in the service.
In February, 1593, Coke, being at that time Solicitor General, was
elected a member of parliament for his native county of Norfolk. In his
own memorandum of this circumstance he says, that the election was
“unanimous, free, and spontaneous, without any canvassing or
solicitation on his part.” At the meeting of parliament he was chosen
Speaker of the House of Commons.
In the year 1582, Coke married the daughter and heiress of John Paston,
Esq., of Huntingfield, in Suffolk, through whom he became connected with
several families of great opulence and importance, and with whom he
received a fortune of 30,000_l._—a very large dowry in those days. By
this lady he had ten children. She died in June 1598; and in his private
register of this event in the Notes, which have been often before
referred to, he calls her “dilectissima et præclarissima uxor,” and
concludes his brief notice of her decease thus:—“Bene et beaté vixit, et
tanquam vera ancilla Domini obdormivit in Domino, et nunc vivit et
regnat in cœlo.” In the month of November in the same year, Coke
contracted a second marriage with the widow of Sir William Hatton,
daughter of Thomas Lord Burleigh, and grand-daughter of the Lord High
Treasurer, which, though it was an advantageous alliance in point of
connection and brought him a considerable accession of property, was by
no means a source of domestic happiness. The marriage itself involved
all the parties concerned in considerable embarrassment: for having
taken place without license or banns, Coke and his lady, together with
the clergyman, Lord Burleigh, and all who were present at the ceremony,
were cited to appear in the Archbishop’s Court; and it was only in
consequence of their making full submission, and pleading their
ignorance of the law, (a singular excuse in Coke’s mouth,) that they
escaped the sentence and penalties of excommunication.
Sir Edward Coke held the office of Attorney General until the death of
Queen Elizabeth, and with the exception of the Earl of Essex, who always
disliked him, enjoyed the fullest confidence of her ministers, and in
particular of Sir Robert Cecil. He had always been favourable to the
title of James I., and upon the death of Elizabeth, is said to have
co-operated cordially with Cecil and the other members of the late
Queen’s council in making the necessary arrangements for the peaceable
accession of the king of Scotland to the crown. James, upon his arrival
in London, continued him in his office of Attorney General, and
conferred upon his eldest son the honour of knighthood.
Coke’s sound judgment and extensive legal knowledge, united with his
fervent attachment to Protestantism, rendered him an invaluable officer
of the crown in the various proceedings against the Roman Catholics at
the close of Elizabeth’s reign, and the beginning of that of James I. In
the examinations respecting the several assassination-treasons, which
have been already mentioned, as well as that of Squire in 1598, of the
Raleigh conspiracy in 1603, of the Gunpowder Plot in 1605, and of
numerous other treasonable and seditious movements imputed to the
Catholics during the period that he filled the office of Attorney
General, he engaged with a zeal and ardour far beyond mere professional
excitement: and the temper displayed in his speeches and general conduct
on the several trials is much more that of a religious partisan than of
a legal advocate. It is common with Catholic writers to attribute to him
the utmost barbarity in the use of the rack and the general treatment of
prisoners under examination. That he, who in his writings inveighs most
strenuously against the use of torture, was nevertheless in his official
character the constant instrument of the Privy Council for applying this
odious process, is beyond all question: but it must be remembered that
what he wrote on this subject was written long after the period of which
we are now speaking, and in the dawn of a better order of things; and
also that the use of the rack for discovering State secrets was common
throughout Europe in his time, and had been the daily practice of the
Privy Council in England for centuries before he was born. There is no
satisfactory proof that he was coarse and cruel in his conduct towards
prisoners under examination; and on the contrary, Father Cornelius, the
Jesuit, who had been examined by him respecting the Popish Plots in
Queen Elizabeth’s time, told Garnet that he had found him “omnium
hominum humanissimus;” and Garnet himself, in his intercepted
correspondence, admits, as he also did on his trial, that he was
constantly treated by him with the utmost courtesy and kindness.