_ON WOOD-ENGRAVING IN ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY_
Although at this time Germany took the lead of all European countries so
far as the illustrations of printed books are concerned, the transition
from German to Italian art is like the change from the strong bleak winds
of the North to the balmy air and sunny skies of the South. We are aware of
the difference both of climate and of art in a moment: the very first
picture presented to us reveals it. The Italians of the fifteenth century
could not take up a handicraft without making it a fine art. Here is a
title-page of a folio KALENDARIO produced in Venice in the year 1476. This
is the first title-page on which the contents of the book, the name of the
author, the imprint of the publishers, who were also the printers, and the
date of the issue of the book, were ever given. Mark the decoration. Though
the publishers were Germans, the artist who drew this border must have been
an Italian; and probably the engraver was an Italian also, for the book was
produced at Venice. The character of the design suggests the work of an
illuminator. The introduction of the printing-press must have interfered
sadly with the writer of manuscripts and his brother the illuminator, and
both were doubtless glad to avail themselves of the new art. The manuscript
writer may have turned compositor, and the illuminator may have been
transformed into a book decorator. {41}
[Illustration: TITLE-PAGE OF A FOLIO KALENDARIO BY JOANNE DE MONTE REGIO,
PRINTED AT VENICE IN 1476 (_much reduced_)]
We have before us a facsimile of a cut called 'The Triumph of Love,' which
appeared as one of the illustrations of TRIUMPHI DEL PETRARCA, a book
printed in Venice, in 1488. A man, seated with his hands bound behind him,
is tied with a rope to a triumphal car which is drawn by four horses; on a
ball of fire, which rises from the car, a blindfolded Cupid is shooting an
arrow (apparently at the near leader); a great crowd of men and women,
among whom we see a king and a mitred bishop, follow and surround the car,
and on a distant hill we behold Petrarch conversing with his friend. There
are two rabbits feeding calmly in the {42} foreground, notwithstanding the
danger of the horses' hoofs, and the usual conventional designs for grass
and flowers. The groundwork of the border of this curious print is black,
with an Italian design carefully cut out in white, with but little shadow.
From the waviness of many of the lines which should be straight, we think
this print must be from an engraving on metal.
Of all the wood-engravings executed in Italy in the fifteenth century, none
can compare in excellence with those in the HYPNEROTOMACHIA POLIPHILI
(Dream of Poliphilo) printed in Venice, by Aldus, in 1499.[4] There are, in
all, one hundred and ninety-two subjects, of which eighty-six relate to
mythology and ancient history, fifty-four are pictures of processions and
emblematic figures, thirty-six are architectural and ornamental, and
sixteen vases and statues. They have been attributed to many different
artists, the most probable of whom is Carpaccio. The subject of the
'Hypnerotomachia' has been described as a 'Contest between Imagination and
Love'; it is a curious medley of all kinds of fable, history, architecture,
mathematics, and other matters, seasoned with suggestions which do not
reflect credit on the moral perceptions of its author, a Dominican monk,
named Francesco Colonna. An enthusiastic admirer of this book thus
poetically describes it: 'There is, perhaps, no volume where the exuberant
vigour of that age is more clearly shown, or where the objects for which
that age was impassioned are more glowingly described. {43}
[Illustration: POLIPHILO IN THE GARDEN
_From 'Hypnerotomachia Poliphili,' printed by Aldus at Venice in 1499_]
The romantic and fantastic rhapsody mirrors every aspect of nature and art
in which the Italians then took delight--peaceful landscape, where rivers
flow by flower-starred banks and through bird-haunted woods; noble
architecture and exquisite sculpture, {44} the music of soft instruments,
the ruins of antiquity, the legends of old mythology, the motions of the
dance, the elegance of the banquet, splendour of apparel, courtesy of
manners, even the manuscript, with its cover of purple velvet sown with
Eastern pearls--everything that was cared for and sought in that time when
the gloom of asceticism lifted and disclosed the wide prospect of the world
lying, as it were, in the loveliness of daybreak.' But it is more on
account of the beauty of the cuts than the poetry of the author that this
book has been so much admired and so frequently reprinted. Our illustration
shows us where Poliphilo in his dream visits a bevy of fair maidens in a
garden. These nymphs are not very beautiful, but, though they have such
high waists, remark how gracefully their figures are drawn, and look at the
action and the drapery of the damsel running away. The engraving is,
without doubt, an exact facsimile of the artist's drawing; the lines are
clear and crisp, and are evidently the work of a practised hand. The
drawing of the gateway and trees is simply conventional. We are sorry that
we have not room for more of the illustrations of this remarkable work.
In these early books it seems to have been nobody's business to record the
name of the engraver who produced the illustrations, and, although the
printer's name is generally very conspicuous in the colophon, the artist's
name rarely, if ever, appears. But the work of certain masters of certain
schools is generally recognised with ease, either by some peculiarity of
manner, or by some particular mark. Thus one artist, who, towards the end
of the fifteenth century, illustrated a few books printed in Italy, is
known as 'the master of the dolphin,' because in most of his work this fish
appears among the decorations. Another is known to us only by the name of
'the illustrator of the "Poliphilus,"' that quaint romance of Colonna which
has taken a proud place in literature, not for its own intrinsic merits,
but {45} rather on account of the beauty of its woodcuts, the name of whose
author is still a matter of conjecture.
We may here say a few words about Aldo Manuzio, better known in England by
his Latinised name, Aldus Manutius, the celebrated printer, and some of the
other early printers of Venice. One of the first to set up a press in
Venice was Nicolas Jenson, a Frenchman, who had worked at Mentz, and who
was the first to cut and introduce Roman type such as is now in use. At his
death his business and plant were bought by a rich man, Andrea Torresano,
of Asola, and the work was carried on successfully. Aldo Manuzio, who was
born at Sermoneta, a village near Velletri, in 1450, received an excellent
education, especially in Greek; and the celebrated Pico da Mirandola made
him tutor to his nephews, Alberto and Leonardo Pio, Lords of Carpi. Alberto
Pio, under his master's training, became a great lover of literature; and
when Aldo conceived the idea of starting a printing-press, the young lord
advanced him the necessary funds, and gave him a house in Venice near the
Church of Sant' Agostino. Aldo then married a daughter of Torresano, and
the two printing businesses were joined and carried on together under
Aldo's direction. His house, we are told, was a veritable colony; besides
the compositors' rooms and the press-rooms, he had closets for
press-readers and studios for the special use of learned authors. The first
'printer's devil' was a little negro boy who had been brought by one of the
men from Greece.
At the beginning of the sixteenth century the wood-engravers of Florence
were celebrated for beautiful book illustrations in a distinct style. Those
in the QUATRO REGGIE, Florence, 1508, are typical examples; their chief
characteristics are, great breadth; masses of white and black {46} evenly
balanced; and the frequent use of white lines out of masses of black.
[Illustration: TEOBALDO MANUZIO--KNOWN AS ALDUS, PRINTER AT VENICE]
Some of the fine borders to these early Italian wood-engravings owe their
distinctive character to earlier work of {47} engravers on metal. Thus the
borders round the illustrations of the Venice folio of 1491 of the TRIUMPHS
OF PETRARCH seem to be direct copies of engravings in metal by Filippo
Lippi. The masses of white on a black background are very effective, and
the strength of the colour increases the effect of the picture which the
border surrounds.
Between 1474 and 1512 Aldus printed for the first time the works of
thirty-three Greek authors. The works of Aristotle, brought out in four
volumes, occupied three years. A learned Greek, Musurus of Crete, corrected
the proofs, in which Aldus himself assisted. The workmen were nearly all
Greeks. The Greek type was copied from the handwriting of Musurus, and the
Italian, known as the Aldine, from the writings of Petrarch; this was cut
by the celebrated artist-goldsmith, Francia of Bologna. The Aldine edition
of Virgil (1501), now exceedingly rare, was the first book printed in this
Italic type. Notwithstanding all his learning, energy, and philanthropy,
Aldus did not succeed in his business. Many of his books were pirated, wars
and insurrections interrupted him, the League of Cambray caused him to
close his works from 1506 to 1510, and he sold his books at a rate too
cheap to be remunerative.
The first printed edition of ÆSOP'S FABLES, which appeared at Verona as
early as 1481, and was reprinted at Venice in 1491, contains many excellent
engravings inclosed in ornamental borders, thoroughly Italian in character.
The figures are not unlike those in the 'Hypnerotomachia,' and we can
readily imagine that they were drawn by the same artist, who has given us
little more than outlines, which the engraver has well cut in facsimile.
The fable of 'The Jackdaw and the Peacock' is particularly well done. An
edition of OVID'S METAMORPHOSES appeared also at this time with tolerably
good illustrations not so well engraved.
There are some curious little cuts in the EPISTOLE DI SAN HIERONYMO
VOLGARE, published in Ferrara in 1497, which {48} are more valuable for
their originality than their beauty, either of drawing or engraving. The
book was evidently intended for the use of the illiterate, to whom the
quality of the pictures laid before them was of little consequence if they
told the story that was meant for them to read with their eyes. The homely
scene of Christ appearing like a Gardener with a hoe on His shoulder,
addressing Mary Magdalene in an Italian _pergola_, would appeal to their
feelings much more directly than the Transfiguration of Raphael.
[Illustration: A BOOTMAKER'S SHOP
_From the 'Decameron,' printed in Venice in 1492_]
We do not find record of any other important wood-engravings in the history
of printing in Italy at the end of the fifteenth century. Presses abounded
everywhere, chiefly managed by Germans; there was scarcely an important
town in Italy without a printer; few illustrated books, however, were
issued at this time. An edition of Boccaccio's {49} 'DECAMERON,' with many
excellent cuts, one of which, representing a bootmaker's shop, we give as
an illustration, was printed by the brothers Gregorio at Venice in 1492.
And there are some illustrations in a book called 'FIORE DI VIRTÙ,' which
appeared in Venice in the same year, that may be praised for the work of
the wood-engraver, though the designer shows a sad ignorance of the laws of
perspective and proportion. And we have before us an illustration to a poem
by POLIZIANO, in which Giuliano dei Medici is kneeling before the altar of
the goddess Minerva, where we see graceful drawing by the artist and fairly
good engraving. It {50} was printed in Florence, but the type bears no
comparison with the beauty of the Aldine books.
[Illustration: FRONTISPIECE TO A 'TERENCE,' PRINTED AT LYONS IN 1493]
The love of colour, which is born in all Italians, led them to develop a
process of making pictures in chiaroscuro--by printing several wood-blocks
one upon another, each block giving a separate tint. In fact, it was the
beginning of the modern colour-printing. The invention of the new process
was claimed by Ugo da Carpi, who reproduced several of the designs of
Raphael. In the beginning of the next century we find pictures printed in
four different colours--trying to imitate water-colour, or, rather,
distemper drawings. (See p. 99.)
At Lyons, about the same time, there was an illustrated edition of
'TERENCE' published, with well-executed woodcuts, from which we are able to
give only the frontispiece, 'The Author writing his book.' It is sufficient
to show that the engraving is the work of a practised hand.
* * * * *
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