The Development of the Crucifix.
We have already seen that the Christians of the first centuries were
deterred by circumstances from any general use of the figure of the Cross.
It follows naturally that the Crucifix was still later in coming into
existence. Indeed, long after Christianity had become the acknowledged
religion of the empire, there were reasons which made its use inexpedient.
The faithful, though now protected from insult and persecution, were still
a minority surrounded by the adherents of paganism; and as the influence
of the Church gradually spread to the barbarian tribes beyond the confines
of the empire, she was constantly being brought face to face with fresh
forms of idolatry in Northern Europe, in Africa, and in Asia. It needs but
little acquaintance with folk-lore to recall illustrations of the fact
that heathenism died hard; even when active opposition had been overcome,
and the bulk of the people had, perhaps, as was not seldom the case,
almost by whole tribes at a time, outwardly accepted the faith, yet old
customs, old superstitions lived on. Thus to the present day the druidic
regard for the mistletoe has a traditional existence in England after
eighteen centuries of Christian teaching, and in Cornwall and elsewhere
mid-summer night sees the hilltops ablaze with bonfires that, meaningless
now, once proclaimed the fire-worshippers' devotion. If such things are
still found amongst us, innocent indeed now of any idolatrous intent, but
eloquent of the vitality of the customs of idolatry, it is easy to divine
the result that would have followed the introduction of the Crucifix into
a world almost wholly heathen. It has been alleged that the Roman Senate
offered to admit the Christ to the pantheon of the state, and similarly
the Crucifix might have simply become the companion of the hammer of Thor,
or the sun-crowned Phoebus, of the sacred ibis of Egypt, or the winged
monsters of Assyria; or at best a mere substitute for them. Guided by a
Divine instinct, the Church showed a wise self-restraint; and it was only
as the decay of idolatry in the West removed this danger, that she allowed
herself to contemplate the image of the Redeemer.
From the first, nevertheless, a yearning for the help towards devotion
which the eye can give was felt, although the necessity of prudence and
caution confined the faithful to the use of symbolic, rather than of
historic, figures. Thus even in the days of the catacombs the Vine, the
Dove, the Lamb, the Good Shepherd are found, with a meaning obviously
Scriptural in origin; and again the Fish, specially recommended with the
above emblems by S. Clement of Alexandria as a device for seals and rings,
was frequently employed, as setting forth in an anagram, by means of its
name in Greek, the words Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Saviour. These
were all common forms, calculated to suggest Christian teaching to the
believer, without exciting comment from the heathen. Meanwhile the simple
cross was growing yearly more familiar to the people as the emblem of the
Christian religion. Its earliest form seems to have been that known as
the fylfot, like four Greek gammas joined at the base; a design that
served, equally with the emblems just described, to suggest the sign to
the Christian without offending others. But so rapid was the change that
took place consequent on the conversion of Constantine, that so early as
the papacy of John I. (who died in the year 400) crosses were carried in
the processions of the Church.
The next step was the natural one of combining with the cross one or other
of the emblematic figures which were already accepted as referring to the
Crucified. The Lamb with the cross, therefore, became a common symbol of
the Crucifixion during the first six centuries. In its most restrained
form we find simply above the head of the Lamb the sacred monogram as used
on the labarum of the Christianized empire; and occasionally the figure
becomes not so much a type as a representative of the Saviour, by having
five bleeding wounds in its feet and side. Later the same emblem appears,
often with a cruciform nimbus about its head, carrying a slender cross on
a tall shaft, or a banner charged with a cross. Similarly a long
cross-staff is sometimes placed, instead of the pastoral crook, in the
hand of the Good Shepherd. In all these the emblem of Christ is the
prominent feature of the assign, the cross being entirely subordinate. As
it became possible to be less guarded in displaying the "ensign of the
faith," this order was to some extent reversed. On the tomb of Gallia
Placida at Ravenna, of the fifth century, the Lamb stands on a mount--the
"Lamb standing on Mount Sion" of the Apocalypse--with behind it a cross,
from the arms of which depend the Alpha and Omega. Again, the Lamb lies
at the foot of the cross, an arrangement apparently referred to by S.
Paulinus of Nola in the words, "Christ in the lamb stands 'neath the Cross
all gleaming with His blood."
[Illustration: AN EARLY CHRISTIAN TOMB AT WIRKSWORTH]
A more decided approximation to the Crucifix was made when the sacred Lamb
was placed on the cross at the joining of the arms and the shaft; a most
interesting example of which occurs on a slab unearthed at Wirksworth
during the restoration of the church in 1820; it is part of a tomb,
supposed to date from the seventh century.[1] In the sixth century we
begin to meet with the Crucifix properly so called. Fortunatus gives us
the first undoubted reference to one made in relief about the year 560,
and S. Gregory of Tours, some thirty years later, refers to a painted one
at Narboune. The famous Vatican cross, said to have been given by the
Emperor Justin (elected 519) to Pope Gregory II., exhibits an interesting
stage in the transition from the emblem to the figure of Christ. The
sacred Lamb still keeps its place on a medallion in the centre, while a
half-length figure of the Saviour in the act of benediction is on the
upper limb of the cross, and another, probably S. John Baptist, is on the
lower one; on the arms, with a curious lack of reverence and taste, are
effigies of the Emperor and his wife Flavia. A book of the Gospels in the
library at Munich, supposed to have been executed in this same century,
has a cross which terminates above in a kind of arch, under which is a
bust of Christ, while the Alpha and Omega hang from the transverse beams.
In the course of time the Cross itself seems to have been looked on, not
so much as a suggestion of the Crucifixion, but as a type or emblem of
Christ. A striking and curious example of this is to be found on a tomb in
the church of S. Apollinare at Ravenna, where the artist has depicted the
Transfiguration in a strange union of realism and symbolism. Moses and
Elias are on either side, and the hand above suggests the Father, but
three sheep stand for the chosen apostles, and in the centre is, not
Christ, but the Cross.
It may, perhaps, have been the perception of such a tendency which led the
Greek Fathers at the Council in Trullo, in 692, to feel that the time had
come for a more emphatic assertion of the personality and human nature of
the Redeemer in sacred art. Thus, at any rate, they decreed:--"We order
that, instead of the Lamb, our Lord Jesus Christ shall be shown hereafter
in His human form in the images; so that, without forgetting the height
from which the Divine Word stooped to us, we shall be led to remember His
mortal life, His passion, and His death, which paid the ransom for
mankind."
The alteration, however, was completed as cautiously as it had been begun,
even the method of production partaking of the restraint exhibited in the
development of the subject. The earliest crucifixes probably had the
figure simply etched in outline, then it was painted upon the cross, and
last of all it became a partial or complete relief. The last stage was not
reached, unless in a few exceptional cases, until the ninth century.
The earliest crucifix in the catacombs is of the seventh or eight century,
and Pope John VII., in 706, dedicated the first mosaic example in St.
Peter's at Rome. Benedict Biscop, Abbot of Jarrow (died 690), brought from
Rome the first picture of the crucifixion of which we hear in the north
of England. S. Augustine advancing with his monks to his first conference
with King Ethelbert of Kent, was preceded by a silver cross and a
crucifixion painted on a panel.
Now and again an iconoclastic spirit revealed itself in opposition to the
growing use, not only of the crucifix but of images of saints and
patriarchs, but it made no headway in the west. Serenus, Bishop of
Marseilles, having broken down some images in a church, was reproved by
Pope Gregory, on the ground that "in paintings on walls those who are
unable to read books can read what in books they cannot." In the east,
however, the movement aroused much bitterness, and led even to
persecution. Leo the Isaurian in 726, began an attack on all use of
images, and a Council at Constantinople in 752, rejected them altogether.
This decree was not accepted generally as final, but in the end the
eastern church settled down under a compromise, which is still maintained,
by which pictures in painting, mosaic, or engraving, are permitted, but
all reliefs and statutes are forbidden.
Amongst the few crucifixes in the east which survived the destruction
consequent first on the iconoclastic persecution, and then their final
condemnation, is one that is probably the oldest in the world. It is in
the Monastery of Xeropotami, on Mount Athos, and consists of an alleged
fragment of the true cross with two transverse pieces, the upper and
smaller one representing the superscription. On these lies a small ivory
figure, and below is a representation of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre
in gold and jewels. It is said to have been a gift from the Empress
Pulcheria (414-453), a fact which may account for its preservation.
The history of the development of the crucifix does not end, when the
Divine effigy assumed the place of the type upon it.
The earliest artists made no attempt at realism in moulding or carving the
figure. They on the contrary distinctly avoided it, and the crucifix
continued to be emblematic. The truth which they aimed especially at
setting forth was the voluntary character of the Lord's self-sacrifice.
The Christ, therefore, is generally clothed in a robe reaching to the
feet, the outspread arms do not hang but lie straight along the transverse
beam, and the feet are placed side by side upon a supporting ledge; the
head is erect, and the eyes frequently, if not usually, are open and look
straight forward. The side is not pierced, and often the hands and feet
show neither wounds nor nails. Others of these early crucifixes set forth
the thought of Christ as king reigning from the tree, in unison with that
line of the famous hymn Vexilla Regis, "Regnavit a ligno Deus;" and the
figure is here royally crowned and robed. A crucifix that has become
historical is the Holy Face of Lucca, traditionally ascribed to the
workmanship of S. Luke, but really dating from about the eight century. On
this, by which William Rufus was in the habit of swearing under the name
of the "Face of S. Luke," are combined the characters of King and Priest,
the figure being crowned, and clad in a dark sacerdotal vestment.
In these crucifixes there is no appeal to the emotions, no petition for
pity on behalf of agonised humanity; but an impressive declaration on the
part of the artist of his strong faith in the deity of the Sufferer.
In describing these various stages in the development of the crucifix, it
must not be taken to imply that step always followed step in a regular
progression. As a matter of fact the different phases overlapped
considerably, and now and again a rare specimen is found antedating
considerably the age to which a strict classification of styles would
assign it. There is, for instance, a very early pectoral crucifix,[2]
which while coinciding for the most part with the description just given,
nevertheless represents the Christ as dead, with closed eyes and uncrowned
head slightly inclined. A crucifix in the Treasury at Aix-la-Chapelle,
known as the Cross of Lothario, though only of the ninth century, has the
hanging arms, the fallen head, and the short cloth about the loins, much
as we see them to-day.
Moreover as art in some lands was later in ripening than in others, so in
some it clung for a longer period to the older art forms; while several of
the primitive emblematic figures have become parts of the Church's
permanent teaching for the eyes of her children. The builders of our
Norman churches had a special fondness for the Agnus Dei, the Lamb bearing
the Cross, and we find it worked into their carvings in various ways.
Amongst the most curious examples may be quoted the ancient fonts of Ilam
and Tissington in Derbyshire.
Another peculiarity of the early crucifixes which sets them apart from
historic representations of the crucifixion, is the attempt made to bring
within the narrow limits of a cross other details, actual or mystical, of
the atoning sacrifice. Many of them have on the upper limb, or on the
arms, of the cross more or less conventional signs for the sun and moon.
Sometimes, as on the pectoral cross noticed above, these are simply a
circle, with or without rays, and a crescent; and in this case they are
merely emblems of the powers of Creation witnessing the death of the
Creator. Sometimes they are more fanciful, as when they are suggested by
male and female figures within circles, wrapping their faces in their
mantles; and here they are symbols of the supernatural darkness of the
first Good Friday.
The Blessed Virgin and S. John the Divine are frequently placed on the
arms of the Cross beyond the hands of Christ, as in a beautiful enamelled
crucifix in the Museum at Copenhagen, which was once the property of
Dagmar, the "darling queen" of Denmark, on whose breast it was buried in
1212. At the top, again, is often found a hand in the attitude of
benediction, a symbol of the Father, and at the foot writhes the
vanquished serpent. Many of the more elaborate examples had the reverse
side enamelled or engraved, usually with appropriate Old Testament types,
such as the fall of Adam, or the sacrifice of Abraham. Almost the only
emblematic additions to the crucifix which have survived in use to our day
are the apocalyptic symbols of the four evangelists, still often found on
large crosses, especially those on rood screens; and the skull placed at
the foot, sometimes with cross-bones, as a symbol of death. This last is
much more modern in introduction than the others.
Crucifixes of this full and elaborate type are found as late as the
fourteenth century, but as pictoral art advanced, and the whole scene of
the passion was treated by artists with increasing frequency and fullness,
the extraneous details dropped from the crucifix, and it became the
simple, yet dignified expression of the crucified Redeemer, as it is this
day.
Almost the same phases that we have noticed in the formation of the
crucifix show themselves also in early representation of the
crucifixion-scene. There is the same restraint in depicting the central
figure, the same use of conventional forms and of symbols. There are
examples in which, while the two thieves are shown as crucified, the Lord
stands in the midst with outspread arms, but with no cross save that in
the nimbus above His head. The persons introduced, as a rule, are few in
number; almost always we have the Blessed Virgin and S. John, with
emblematic signs for the sun and moon. Sometimes also the two thieves, and
less frequently two female figures, personifying the Jewish and Christian
Churches. The long robe, instead of the loin-cloth, on the Crucified, and
the hand symbolising the father, are both common forms in the earliest
paintings or carved ivories. There is a curious example in the chapel of
S. Silvestro, at Rome, in which soldiers with a spear and the sponge on a
reed are introduced, while a small angel is seen removing the crown of
thorns and substituting a regal one. All the three crosses are shown in
this fresco, the two lesser ones of the usual type, but the Saviour's in
the form of a =Y=, the cross that appears on the back of a Gothic
chasuble. The date of this work is said to be 1248. The thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries witnessed the rise of the great Italian schools of
art, and with the artists' growing mastery over their materials
Crucifixions became fuller of details and less rigidly conventional,
though not less devotional and scarcely less symbolic. A host of angels
throngs about their dying Creator, wringing their hands in helpless grief,
offering him their lowliest worship, or catching in chalices the sacred
blood. At the foot of the Cross, also, is sometimes found a crowd of
figures, representing not the hostile multitude that surged with
blasphemous taunts before the failing eyes of Christ; but monks, bishops,
virgins, kings, the saintly and devout of later ages, who stand in wrapt
attention or kneel in homage.
In those days, when every art found its highest expression in the service
of the Church, every encouragement was given to the painting of sacred
subjects; and the artists, loyal sons for the most part of the Church,
sought their highest ambition in realizing their ideal of a Crucifixion, a
picta, or a madonna. To these feelings we owe the splendid frescoes of
Cimabue, and of Giotto, the friend of Dante, at Assissi, the paintings of
Duccio, the first, it is said, to represent our Lord on His Cross with the
feet laid one upon the other; and above all the wonderful works of Fra
Angelico, who embodied, if ever man did, his whole faith in his pictures,
with reverent devotion and tenderest purity.
But it would be wandering beyond the limits, both of our subject and of
our space, to examine in any detail those sacred canvases and frescoes by
which the artists of the Italian Renaissance have placed the whole world
under a debt, which never can be paid. The very names of Florence and
Siena, of Umbria and Venice, of Verona, Ferrara, and Milan, seem redolent
of sacred art.
Suffice it to say, in conclusion, that gradually as the fifteenth century
advanced, and especially in the age that followed, the symbolic and
devotional treatment of the tremendous spectacle of the Crucifixion was
eclipsed by the realistic and historic method. The painter no longer
approached his subject with awe, that compelled a reserve eloquent of
faith in its great mystery; but too often he sought in frenzied crowds,
impassioned Magdalens, and contorted limbs to display his own skill only.
For Crucifixions that raise the thoughts and heart from the canvas to
Calvary itself, we must turn back to those ages, which, with less
anatomical knowledge, and perhaps less technical skill, were nevertheless
inspired with more perfect ideals and nobler art from the mere fulness of
a simple and sincere faith.