There are objects connected with literary curiosity, whose very history,
though they may never gratify our sight, is literary; and the
originality of their invention, should they excite imitation, may serve
to constitute a class. I notice a book-curiosity of this nature.
This extraordinary volume may be said to have contained the travels and
adventures of Charles Magius, a noble Venetian; and this volume, so
precious, consisted only of eighteen pages, composed of a series of
highly-finished miniature paintings on vellum, some executed by the hand
of Paul Veronese. Each page, however, may be said to contain many
chapters; for, generally, it is composed of a large centre-piece,
surrounded by ten small ones, with many apt inscriptions, allegories,
and allusions; the whole exhibiting romantic incidents in the life of
this Venetian nobleman. But it is not merely as a beautiful production
of art that we are to consider it; it becomes associated with a more
elevated feeling in the occasion which produced it. The author, who is
himself the hero, after having been long calumniated, resolved to set
before the eyes of his accusers the sufferings and adventures he could
perhaps have but indifferently described: and instead of composing a
tedious volume for his justification, invented this new species of
pictorial biography. The author minutely described the remarkable
situations in which fortune had placed him; and the artists, in
embellishing the facts he furnished them with to record, emulated each
other in giving life to their truth, and putting into action, before the
spectator, incidents which the pen had less impressively exhibited. This
unique production may be considered as a model to represent the actions
of those who may succeed more fortunately by this new mode of
perpetuating their history; discovering, by the aid of the pencil,
rather than by their pen, the forms and colours of an extraordinary
life.
It was when the Ottomans (about 1571) attacked the Isle of Cyprus, that
this Venetian nobleman was charged by his republic to review and repair
the fortifications. He was afterwards sent to the pope to negociate an
alliance: he returned to the senate to give an account of his
commission. Invested with the chief command, at the head of his troops,
Magius threw himself into the island of Cyprus, and after a skilful
defence, which could not prevent its fall, at Famagusta he was taken
prisoner by the Turks, and made a slave. His age and infirmities induced
his master, at length, to sell him to some Christian merchants; and
after an absence of several years from his beloved Venice, he suddenly
appeared, to the astonishment and mortification of a party who had never
ceased to calumniate him; while his own noble family were compelled to
preserve an indignant silence, having had no communications with their
lost and enslaved relative. Magius now returned to vindicate his honour,
to reinstate himself in the favour of the senate, and to be restored to
a venerable parent amidst his family; to whom he introduced a fresh
branch, in a youth of seven years old, the child of his misfortunes,
who, born in trouble, and a stranger to domestic endearments, was at one
moment united to a beloved circle of relations.
I shall give a rapid view of some of the pictures of this Venetian
nobleman's life. The whole series has been elaborately drawn up by the
Duke de la Valliere, the celebrated book-collector, who dwells on the
detail with the curiosity of an amateur.[83]
In a rich frontispiece, a Christ is expiring on the cross; Religion,
leaning on a column, contemplates the Divinity, and Hope is not distant
from her. The genealogical tree of the house of Magius, with an
allegorical representation of Venice, its nobility, power, and riches:
the arms of Magius, in which is inserted a view of the Holy Sepulchre of
Jerusalem, of which he was made a knight; his portrait, with a Latin
inscription: "I have passed through arms and the enemy, amidst fire and
water, and the Lord conducted me to a safe asylum, in the year of grace
1571." The portrait of his son, aged seven years, finished with the
greatest beauty, and supposed to have come from the hand of Paul
Veronese; it bears this inscription: "Overcome by violence and artifice,
almost dead before his birth, his mother was at length delivered of him,
full of life, with all the loveliness of infancy; under the divine
protection, his birth was happy, and his life with greater happiness
shall be closed with good fortune."
A plan of the Isle of Cyprus, where Magius commanded, and his first
misfortune happened, his slavery by the Turks.--The painter has
expressed this by an emblem of a tree shaken by the winds and scathed by
the lightning; but from the trunk issues a beautiful green branch
shining in a brilliant sun, with this device--"From this fallen trunk
springs a branch full of vigour."
The missions of Magius to raise troops in the province of La Puglia.--In
one of these Magius is seen returning to Venice; his final departure,--a
thunderbolt is viewed falling on his vessel--his passage by Corfu and
Zante, and his arrival at Candia.
His travels to Egypt.--The centre figure represents this province
raising its right hand extended towards a palm-tree, and the left
leaning on a pyramid, inscribed "Celebrated throughout the world for her
wonders." The smaller pictures are the entrance of Magius into the port
of Alexandria; Rosetta, with a caravan of Turks and different nations;
the city of Grand Cairo, exterior and interior, with views of other
places; and finally, his return to Venice.
His journey to Rome.--The centre figure an armed Pallas seated on
trophies, the Tyber beneath her feet, a globe in her hands, inscribed
_Quod rerum victrix ac domina_,--"Because she is the Conqueress and
Mistress of the World." The ten small pictures are views of the cities
in the pope's dominion. His first audience at the conclave forms a
pleasing and fine composition.
His travels into Syria.--The principal figure is a female, emblematical
of that fine country; she is seated in the midst of a gay orchard, and
embraces a bundle of roses, inscribed _Mundi deliciae_--"The delight of
the universe." The small compartments are views of towns and ports, and
the spot where Magius collected his fleet.
His pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where he was made a knight of the Holy
Sepulchre.--The principal figure represents Devotion, inscribed
_Ducit_--"It is she who conducts me." The compartments exhibit a variety
of objects, with a correctness of drawing which is described as
belonging to the class, and partaking of the charms of the pencil of
Claude Lorraine. His vessel is first viewed in the roadstead at Venice
beat by a storm; arrives at Zante to refresh; enters the port of Simiso;
there having landed, he and his companions are proceeding to the town on
asses, for Christians were not permitted to travel in Turkey on horses.
In the church at Jerusalem the bishop, in his pontifical habit, receives
him as a knight of the Holy Sepulchre, arraying him in the armour of
Godfrey of Bouillon, and placing his sword in the hands of Magius. His
arrival at Bethlehem, to see the cradle of the Lord--and his return by
Jaffa with his companions, in the dress of pilgrims; the groups are
finely contrasted with the Turks mingling amongst them.
The taking of the city of Famagusta, and his slavery.--The middle
figure, with a dog at its feet, represents Fidelity, the character of
Magius, who ever preferred it to his life or his freedom, inscribed
_Captivat_--"She has reduced me to slavery." Six smaller pictures
exhibit the different points of the island of Cyprus where the Turks
effected their descents. Magius retreating to Famagusta, which he long
defended, and where his cousin, a skilful engineer, was killed. The
Turks compelled to raise the siege, but return with greater forces--the
sacking of the town and the palace, where Magius was taken.--One picture
exhibits him brought before a bashaw, who has him stripped, to judge of
his strength and fix his price, when, after examination, he is sent
among other slaves. He is seen bound and tied up among his companions in
misfortune--again he is forced to labour, and carries a cask of water on
his shoulders.--In another picture, his master, finding him weak of
body, conducts him to a slave-merchant to sell him. In another we see
him leading an ass loaded with packages; his new master, finding him
loitering on his way, showers his blows on him, while a soldier is seen
purloining one of the packages from the ass. Another exhibits Magius
sinking with fatigue on the sands, while his master would raise him up
by an unsparing use of the bastinado. The varied details of these little
paintings are pleasingly executed.
The close of his slavery.--The middle figure kneeling to Heaven, and a
light breaking from it, inscribed, "He breaks my chains," to express
the confidence of Magius. The Turks are seen landing with their pillage
and their slaves.--In one of the pictures are seen two ships on fire; a
young lady of Cyprus preferring death to the loss of her honour and the
miseries of slavery, determined to set fire to the vessel in which she
was carried; she succeeded, and the flames communicated to another.
His return to Venice.--The painter for his principal figure has chosen a
Pallas, with a helmet on her head, the aegis on one arm, and her lance in
the other, to describe the courage with which Magius had supported his
misfortunes, inscribed _Reducit_--"She brings me back." In the last of
the compartments he is seen at the custom-house at Venice; he enters the
house of his father; the old man hastens to meet him, and embraces him.
One page is filled by a single picture, which represents the senate of
Venice, with the Doge on his throne; Magius presents an account of his
different employments, and holds in his hand a scroll, on which is
written, _Quod commisisti perfeci; quod restat agendum, pare fide
complectar_--"I have done what you committed to my care; and I will
perform with the same fidelity what remains to be done." He is received
by the senate with the most distinguished honours, and is not only
justified, but praised and honoured.
The most magnificent of these paintings is the one attributed to Paul
Veronese. It is described by the Duke de la Valliere as almost
unparalleled for its richness, its elegance, and its brilliancy. It is
inscribed _Pater meus et fratres mei dereliquerunt me; Dominus autem
assumpsit me!_--"My father and my brothers abandoned me; but the Lord
took me under his protection." This is an allusion to the accusation
raised against him in the open senate when the Turks took the Isle of
Cyprus, and his family wanted either the confidence or the courage to
defend Magius. In the front of this large picture, Magius leading his
son by the hand, conducts him to be reconciled with his brothers and
sisters-in-law, who are on the opposite side; his hand holds this
scroll, _Vos cogitastis de me malum; sed Deus convertit illud in
bonum_--"You thought ill of me; but the Lord has turned it to good." In
this he alludes to the satisfaction he had given the senate, and to the
honours they had decreed him. Another scene is introduced, where Magius
appears in a magnificent hall at a table in the midst of all his family,
with whom a general reconciliation has taken place: on his left hand
are gardens opening with an enchanting effect, and magnificently
ornamented, with the villa of his father, on which flowers and wreaths
seem dropping on the roof, as if from heaven. In the perspective, the
landscape probably represents the rural neighbourhood of Magius's early
days.
Such are the most interesting incidents which I have selected from the
copious description of the Duke de la Valliere. The idea of this
production is new: an autobiography in a series of remarkable scenes,
painted under the eye of the describer of them, in which, too, he has
preserved all the fulness of his feelings and his minutest
recollections; but the novelty becomes interesting from the character of
the noble Magius, and the romantic fancy which inspired this elaborate
and costly curiosity. It was not, indeed, without some trouble that I
have drawn up this little account; but while thus employed, I seemed to
be composing a very uncommon romance.