where it contributed to spread his fame. A new group of Cupid and
Psyche, standing, done for Murat, was sent to Paris, and being
fortunately one of his best works, it excited a great sensation when
exhibited there. The reputation Canova had acquired in Italy naturally
provoked a close and keen scrutiny into the merits and defects of this
work; but its success was complete, and from that time his great merit
was as fully acknowledged in France as elsewhere. Some of his subsequent
works exhibited in the Louvre were, it is true, severely criticised, but
they always found ardent defenders, and those among the most respectable
connoisseurs and artists.
The celebrated kneeling Magdalen, which ultimately became the property
of Count Sommariva, and adorned his house in Paris, was Canova’s next
performance; it was afterwards, like many of his works, copied, or
rather repeated, for other amateurs.
This statue created a still greater sensation than the Cupid and Psyche
when it was exhibited in Paris. The well-known Hebe was executed about
the same time; this, too, was often repeated, and one copy was exhibited
in the Louvre bearing a golden vase and cup, and with the lips and
cheeks slightly tinged with vermilion. These innovations were severely
objected to by the French critics, while the general taste of this and
other works of the artist was still less indulgently treated in London.
But the execution of individual parts of his statues was every where
allowed to be exquisite, and many a time, in Rome, artists who were his
professed rivals have purchased casts of the joints and extremities of
his figures as models of perfect imitation: such detached portions have
even been mistaken for casts from the antique.
Much has been said by the Italian eulogists of Canova of his skill in
painting, and a story is told of his having done a pretended portrait of
Giorgione on an old panel, which Angelica Kaufmann, and other very
sufficient judges, for a time believed to be an original by the Venetian
master. Canova’s attempts at painting were regarded with complacency, at
least by himself, remarkable as he was for great modesty in speaking of
his works in sculpture. He seems never to have forgotten that he was a
Venetian, and gloried in the perfections, and almost in the defects, of
the painters of that school. It is not impossible that this predilection
may have operated in some degree to check his pursuit of the severe
style of the ancients in sculpture, and it may, perhaps, account for the
picturesque licences which he sometimes indulged in, as, for instance,
in the Hebe; but if his efforts in painting were naturally defective in
execution, they were still more open to criticism in their invention and
taste, and, on the whole, call rather for indulgence than admiration.
The unsettled state of Italy consequent upon the French Revolution, and
the troubles in Rome, induced Canova, about the close of the century, to
retire for a time to his native province. From thence he accompanied the
Senator Rezzonico into Germany, and visited Munich, Vienna, Dresden, and
Berlin. At Vienna, he received from Duke Albert of Saxe Teschen, the
commission for the monument to Maria Christina of Austria.
His first ambition, however, on returning to Italy, was to embody in a
picture some of the impressions he had received from contemplating the
galleries of Germany, and particularly the Notte of Correggio; and he
actually painted a large altar-piece for the parochial church of
Possagno. This work, though since considered unworthy of criticism, was
highly extolled at the time it was done. On his return to Rome, he began
the model of his celebrated group of Hercules and Lichas, a work which
found favour even with those who had objected to the want of manliness
of taste in his treatment of most other subjects. It is indeed
impossible to contemplate this group, without feeling it to be the
production of a man of genius; while the patient elaboration of the
anatomical details, and the power and knowledge with which the
difficulties of the composition are overcome, have never failed to
excite the high praise which is awarded to rare excellence. The
originality of the idea has, however, been lately disputed; and a bronze
has come to light which, if its history be true, at least proves that
some earlier sculptor than Canova had conceived the subject nearly in
the same manner. This grand work, first intended for Naples, was
purchased by Torlonia, Duke of Bracciano, and is now the principal
ornament of the Bracciano Palace in Rome.
Soon after this the Perseus was produced, a statue which, by command of
Pius VII., received the unparalleled honour of being placed in the
Vatican, in a situation similar to that of the Apollo, or rather to
supply its place, for the Apollo at this time was not returned from
Paris. The honour was even greater when that statue was restored to
Rome, for the Perseus then remained as a companion or pendant to it. The
two Pugilists were modelled soon after for the same patron, Pope Pius
VII., and were placed, when finished, in the Vatican, together with the
Perseus. A cast of the Creugas, one of these figures, exhibited about
the same time at Paris, was very generally admired, and very ably and
generously defended from the hostile criticisms it called forth, by the
sculptor Quatremère de Quincy. The high estimation in which Canova was
held, and his zeal for the preservation of the ancient monuments in
Rome, as well as the frescoes of the Vatican, induced the Pope to confer
on him the appointment and title of Inspector-General of the Fine Arts.
Though at first unwilling to assume the responsibility of this charge,
Canova at last undertook it; and it appears that his conscientious
attention to the duties connected with it, gave a new impulse to the
Roman school, and excited in all a zeal and ardour for the preservation
of the precious remains of antiquity. The conduct of Canova in
furthering the general interests of the arts of his country is worthy of
all praise: his private benevolence is well known. It may be said that
his happy freedom from jealousy was owing to the quiet security of
established fame; but he was equally remarkable for magnanimity when
placed in competition with those whom he had reason to regard as
possible rivals.
After finishing a model of the colossal statue of the King of Naples,
Canova received a flattering invitation to visit the court of Bonaparte,
then First Consul; and in obedience to the wishes even of the Pope he
proceeded to Paris. His conversations with Bonaparte during this and a
subsequent visit have been preserved; and it appears that he lost no
opportunity of representing the fallen and impoverished state of Italy
(the consequence of the French invasion) to the arbiter of its
destinies, whom he dexterously reminded of his Pisan or Florentine
origin. His recommendation of the arts in Rome was at least successful,
for soon after his return thither ample funds were forwarded by command
of Bonaparte for the revival and extension of the Academy of St. Luke,
of which Canova was naturally appointed the Director, and for
prosecuting the excavations in the Forum. When Canova, in one of his
visits to Paris, ventured to ask for the restitution of the statues that
had been taken from Rome, the French ruler replied, that “they might dig
for more.”
Having modelled the bust of Bonaparte, Canova returned to Italy to
complete the colossal statue of Napoleon, now in the possession of the
Duke of Wellington. In this work, which he considered an heroic
representation, he elevated the forms to his highest conceptions of an
abstract style, and, probably in imitation of the statue of Pompey,
exhibited the figure naked. The censures which were passed on this bold
attempt were most satisfactorily answered by the celebrated Visconti. In
Canova’s second visit to Paris, Napoleon himself remarked, that his
statue should have been in the ordinary dress, to which Canova replied,
“Our art, like all the fine arts, has its sublime language; this
language in sculpture is the naked, and such drapery as conveys a
general idea.” The extensive monument for Vienna was next finished, and
Canova repaired to the Austrian capital to see it put together. The
artist’s general deviation from the style of sculpture practised by the
ancients, may be illustrated by this work, admirable as it is for its
details. The real aperture, or door of the tomb, into which the
procession is entering, the literal reality of the steps, the
accurately-imitated drapery, and other circumstances, are all nearer to
nature than the flesh, the reverse of the principle of the Greeks. The
partial or absolute truth of the accessories thus reminds us that colour
and life are wanting in the figures—a discovery the spectator should
never be permitted to make. Again, the indistinctness which must exist
more or less in an assemblage of figures similar in colour (the
unavoidable condition of the art), far from being obviated by
indiscriminate imitation, requires rather to be counteracted by those
judicious conventions which, in some measure, represent the varieties of
nature, and constitute the style of sculpture. The Venus for Florence,
(afterwards more than once repeated,) and the statues of the Princess
Borghese, and the mother of Napoleon, were the next works of Canova. The
attitude and treatment of the last seem to have been inspired by the
statue of Agrippina; it was completely successful in Paris. After these,
the well-known Dancing Nymphs occupied him, and seem to have been
favourite works of his own. Although these statues excited more
attention in Paris than perhaps any of his former works, and raised his
reputation more than ever, they have since been very generally censured
as meretricious in their taste. The portrait statues of the Princess
Borghese and Madame Letitia, invited many other commissions of the same
kind, which it would be long to recount. The monument of Alfieri, and
the statues of Hector and Ajax, the latter admirable for their details,
but with little of the antique character in their general treatment,
were successively produced, together with many busts of individuals and
of ideal personages. An opportunity was soon after afforded the
sculptor, in a statue of Paris for the Empress Josephine, of exhibiting
his best powers to the French critics. He was perhaps better satisfied
with this than with any other single figure he had done. It was much
admired when exhibited in the Louvre, and Quatremère de Quincy published
an eulogium on it.
In 1810, Canova again proceeded to the French capital to receive the
commands of Napoleon, and modelled the bust of Maria Louisa. The statue
of the Empress, as Concord, and of the Princess Eliza, in the character
of a Muse, were finished on his return to Rome. The group of the Graces,
and a statue of Peace, were next completed. The colossal horse, first
intended to bear Napoleon, and then Murat, was finally surmounted with
the statue of Charles III. of Naples, and placed in that city. A
recumbent nymph, Canova’s next work, was succeeded by one of his most
extraordinary productions, the Theseus and Centaur, a group now in
Vienna, where it is placed in a temple built for its reception. Opinions
are divided between the merits of this work and of his Hercules and
Lichas.
In 1815, when the Allies occupied Paris, Canova was sent there by Pope
Pius VII. on an honourable and interesting mission, namely, to intercede
with the French government and the invading powers, for the restitution
of the works of art which had been torn from Rome by the treaty of
Tolentino. The French ministry resisted his application, and it was
ultimately by the decision of the Allied Powers, and literally under the
protection of foreign bayonets, that Canova removed the objects in
question from the Louvre. The gratitude of the Pope to the British
government on this occasion led to Canova’s visit to London. The honours
he received in England from George IV., then Prince Regent, from the
nobility, and the professors of the arts, perhaps even exceeded the
homage which had been paid him on the continent; and it ought not to be
forgotten, that the great Flaxman, who was among the warmest in
welcoming him, wrote a letter to Canova on his return to Rome, which did
honour to both, and in which he says, “You will be always a great
example in the arts, not only in Italy, but in Europe.”
Canova’s return to Rome, in 1816, was little short of a triumph. The
Pope created him Marquis of Ischia, with an annual pension of three
thousand crowns; but the noble-minded artist divided this sum, till his
death, among the institutions of the arts, in premiums for the young and
in aids for the old and decayed. Long was his benevolence to rising
artists the general theme of gratitude and regret; and in every case of
ill-rewarded industry, or fancied oppression, the exclamation was, “Ah!
if Canova were alive!”
The statue of Washington; the Stuart monument in St. Peter’s; the group
of Mars and Venus, which was done for George IV.; the Sleeping Nymphs;
the recumbent Magdalen, executed for the Earl of Liverpool, were
successively produced at this highly-honoured period of his life; and a
third monument in St. Peter’s, viz., that of Pope Pius VI.
The last great act of Canova’s life was the foundation of a magnificent
church at Possagno, the first stone of which was laid by him July 11,
1819. The monument for the Marquis Salsa Berio, sent to Naples, the
figures of which are in basso relievo; seven mezzi relievi for the
metopes of the frieze of his church at Possagno, the design of which
combines the forms of the Parthenon and the Pantheon; and the beautiful
group of the Pietà, or dead Christ in the lap of the Virgin at the foot
of the cross, accompanied by the Magdalen, intended for the altar of the
same church, were the last works of Canova.
In 1822, he visited Possagno, partly to see the progress of the
building, and still more on account of his infirm state of health. After
a short stay in the neighbourhood, his illness increased so much that he
was forced to repair to Venice for medical assistance; but his recovery
was hopeless, and he died October 13, 1822, in the 65th year of his age.
Gratitude was among the prominent virtues of Canova, and among his
legacies, it is pleasing to observe that the sons of Faliero, his
earliest patron, were remembered. He was buried at Possagno; but his
funeral obsequies were celebrated throughout Italy, and a statue to his
memory was afterwards placed in the Academy of St. Luke, at Rome.
Ample details of Canova’s life, his precepts on art, and conversations
with Napoleon, will be found in the account of him by Missirini: for a
catalogue and eulogy of his works, Cicognara’s ‘Storia della Scultura’
may be consulted. The memoir of him by that nobleman, together with his
own ‘Thoughts on the Arts,’ taken down and recorded by Missirini, will
be found in the splendid edition of Canova’s works, engraved in outline
by Moses.
[Illustration: [Monument to the Archduchess Maria Christina.]]
[Illustration]
CHAUCER.
There is considerable discrepance between the generally received and the
probable date of Geoffrey Chaucer’s birth. In the life prefixed to the
edition of his works by Speght, it is stated, that he “departed out of
this world in the year of our Lord 1400, after he had lived about
seventy years.” The biographer’s authority for this is “Bale, out of
Leland.” Leland’s accuracy on this, as on many other points, may be
doubted, since he believed Oxfordshire or Berkshire to have been the
poet’s native county. But Chaucer himself, in his Testament of Love,
mentions London as the “place of his kindly engendure.” The received
date of his birth is 1328: if that be correct, he was fifty-eight in
1386. But a record in the Appendix to Mr. Godwin’s Life shows that in
that year he was a witness on oath, in a question between Sir Richard le
Scrope and Sir Robert Grosvenor. The point at issue occasioned an
inquiry to be made as to Chaucer’s age, which he stated to be “forty
years and upwards.” Eighteen years upon forty is a large _upwards_ on a
sworn examination. Mr. Sharon Turner, therefore, in his History of the
Middle Ages, suggests, with every appearance of reason, that 1340, or
thereabouts, is a date fairly corresponding with the witness’s “forty
years and upwards,” and even necessary to vindicate his accuracy in a
predicament requiring the most scrupulous adherence to truth. Chaucer
might not be certain as to the precise year of his birth; and, in that
case, it was natural to fix on the nearest round number. The chronology
of his Works must be deeply affected by this difference of twelve years:
it will be to be seen whether the few authenticated facts of his life
are to be reconciled with this presumptive later date.
[Illustration:
_Engraved by J. Thomson._
CHAUCER.
_From a Limning in Occleve’s Poems
in the British Museum._
Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street, & Pall Mall
East._
]
Chaucer is represented by Leland to have studied both at Cambridge and
at Oxford. At the latter University, he is said to have diligently
frequented the public schools and disputations, and to have affected the
opinions of Wiclif in religion. “Hereupon,” says Leland, “he became a
witty logician, a sweet rhetorician, a pleasant poet, a grave
philosopher, and a holy divine.” But Mr. Tyrwhitt thinks that nothing is
known as to his education, and doubts his having studied at either
University. The evidence that he was of the Inner Temple seems to rest
on a record of that house, seen some years afterwards by one Master
Buckley, showing that Geoffrey Chaucer was fined two shillings for
beating a Franciscan Friar in Fleet Street. Mr. Tyrwhitt complains of
the want of date to this record. The sally is plainly a youthful one,
and inclines him to believe that Chaucer was of the Inner Temple before
he went into the service of Edward III. That he could have been engaged
in the practice of the law in after-life, as stated by Leland, is shown
by Mr. Tyrwhitt to be utterly inconsistent with his employments under
the crown. In the paucity of biographical anecdotes, Chaucer’s personal
career will be most satisfactorily ascertained by following the
succession of his appointments, as verified by the public documents in
Mr. Godwin’s valuable appendices. In 1367, Edward III. granted him, for
his good services, an annuity of twenty marcs, payable out of the
Exchequer. In 1370, he was sent to the Continent on the king’s business.
Two years afterwards, he, with two others, was employed on an embassy to
the Doge of Genoa. This negotiation probably regarded the hiring of
ships for the king’s navy. In those times, although the necessity for
naval armaments was frequent, very few ships were built by the English.
This deficiency was supplied by the free states either in Germany or
Italy. The age of thirty and thirty-two squares well enough with such
appointments. In 1374, the king granted to him a pitcher of wine daily,
to be delivered by the Butler of England. At the same time, he made him
Comptroller of the Customs of London, for wool, wool-fells, and hides,
on condition of his executing the office in person, and keeping the
accounts with his own hand. In the following year he obtained from the
king the wardship of the lands and body of Sir Edmund Staplegate, a
young Kentish heir. In 1377, the last year of King Edward, “Geoffrey
Caucher” is mentioned by Froissart as one of those envoys employed
abroad, as his protection expresses it, “on the king’s secret service.”
The object of the mission is divulged by the French historian; it was a
treaty between the Kings of England and France, in which the marriage of
Richard with the French Princess Mary was debated; but neither the peace
nor the marriage were brought about. Here end both the commissions and
benefactions received by Chaucer from Edward III.
Some time after 1370, and before 1381, according to Mr. Turner’s
calculation, but in 1360 according to others, Chaucer married a lady
who, according to documents taken from Rymer, had been one of the
“domicellæ,” damsels, or, in modern court phrase, maids of honour to
Queen Philippa. Mr. Turner places the marriage within those limits, on
the following grounds:—Chaucer, in his “Treatise on the Astrolabe,”
dates an observation as made in 1391, and mentions his son Lewis as
being then ten years old. A grant to the queen’s damsel, on quitting her
service, is dated 1370, and made to her by her maiden name. The
“Astrolabe” and the grant together furnish conclusive evidence in favour
of Mr. Turner’s limits; but the current story of the Duke and Duchess of
Lancaster having concocted the match, can only be reconciled with the
earlier date, as the duchess died in 1369. It is unnecessary to
enumerate those various grants made to Chaucer by Richard II., which
bear on no other events of his life. An important document of the year
1398, states that the king had ordered Chaucer to expedite several
urgent affairs for him, as well in his absence as in his presence, in
various parts of England. As a security against alarms expressed by
Chaucer respecting suits and other molestations, Richard granted him a
protection from arrest, injury, violence, or impediment, for two years.
Richard was deposed in August of the following year. In October, Henry
IV. confirmed Richard’s donations, with an additional annuity of forty
marcs. The last document as to Chaucer is an indenture of lease to him,
dated 24th December, 1399, of a tenement in the Priory Garden of
Westminster, for a term of fifty-three years. Chaucer, therefore, was
active at the end of 1399, and seems, from the length of his lease,
still to have thought himself a good life, as he well might, if his age
were only sixty; but his biographers (probably because they traced him
in no later documents, and thought seventy-two a good old age) in the
absence of any other positive evidence, than the date on a monument
erected in the sixteenth century, have fixed his death in 1400.