Edmondo De Amicis, that wonderful word-painter, says in his "Holland and
its People:" "However one may be profane in art, and have made a vow
never more to offend in too much enthusiasm, when one is in the presence
of Rembrandt van Rhijn, one can but raise a little, as the Spaniards
say, the key of one's style. Rembrandt exercised a particular prestige.
Fra Angelico is a saint, Michael Angelo a giant, Raphael an angel,
Titian a prince; Rembrandt is a supernatural being. How otherwise shall
we name that son of a miller? Born in a windmill, rising unheralded,
without master, without examples, without any derivation from schools,
he became a universal painter, embraced all the aspects of life, painted
figures, landscapes, marine views, animals, saints in paradise,
patriarchs, heroes, monks, wealth and misery, deformity and decrepitude,
the ghetto, the tavern, the hospital, death; made, in short, a review of
heaven and earth, and rendered all things visible by a light from the
arcana of his own imagination.
[Illustration: REMBRANDT.]
"It was said that the contrast of light and shadow corresponded in him
to diverse movements of thought. Schiller, before beginning a work,
heard within himself a harmony of indistinct sounds, which were like a
prelude to inspiration; in like manner, Rembrandt, when in the act of
conceiving a picture, had a vision of rays and shadows, which spoke to
his soul before he animated them with his personages. There is in his
pictures a life, and what may almost be called a dramatic action, quite
apart from the human figures. Vivid rays of light break into the
darkness like cries of joy; the darkness flies in terror, leaving here
and there fragments of shadow full of melancholy, tremulous reflections
that seem like lamentations; profound obscurity full of dim
threatenings; spurts of light, sparkles, ambiguous shadows, doubtful
transparencies, questionings, sighs, words of a supernatural language,
heard like music, and not understood, and remaining in the memory like
the vague relics of a dream.
"And in this atmosphere he plants his figures, of which some are clothed
in the dazzling light of a theatrical apotheosis, others veiled like
phantoms, others revealed by one stroke of light upon the face; dressed
in habits of luxury or misery, but all with something strange and
fantastic; without distinctness of outline, but loaded with powerful
colors, sculptural reliefs, and bold touches of the brush; and
everywhere a warmth of expression, a fury of violent inspiration, the
superb, capricious, and profound imprint of a free and fearless genius."
This strange, great painter, Rembrandt, was born, not in a windmill, as
Amicis says, but in Leyden, Holland, July 15, 1607. His father, Gerrit
Harmen van Rhijn, a miller, was then forty years old, in easy
circumstances, married to the daughter of the baker Willems van
Snydtbrouck, then thirty-five, a vigorous, strong-charactered woman,
whom the boy, in after years, loved to paint, over and over again.
Of their six children, Adriaen, who became a miller, Gerrit, Machteld,
Cornelis, Willem, who became a baker, and Rembrandt, the latter was
destined for the law. He was early taught Latin, as a preparation for
the Leyden Academy, but before he was twelve he showed such decided
taste for painting and designing that his parents removed the lad from
school, and placed him with a relative, who was an artist, Jacob van
Swanenburg. He had returned from study in Italy in 1617, and Rembrandt
entered his studio, probably in 1620, the year in which our forefathers
left Holland.
For three years the boy bent himself closely to the work he loved. He
made such remarkable progress that, at the end of this time, he was sent
to the well-known painter, Pieter Lastman of Amsterdam. He remained
there but six months, and then returned to his home in Leyden.
From the age of seventeen to twenty, while in his Leyden home, we know
little of the youth, save that he studied nature with loving fidelity,
wandered over the low, picturesque country with its canal and
windmills, and observed people and skies and landscapes.
The first work attributed to Rembrandt was painted in 1627, when he was
twenty years old, "St. Paul in Prison," showing care in detail and
richness in color. During the next two years, he made etchings of
himself and of his mother, who appears to have been his ideal.
His first oil paintings were done in 1630; one, now lost, showing a
philosopher in a grotto; and the "Bust of an Old Man," which, says Prof.
John W. Mollett of France, in his Life of Rembrandt, "is the most
interesting of all the Rembrandts in the Cassel Gallery, from the fact
that it first displayed his knowledge of the great secret, which he
subsequently so wonderfully developed, of concentrating light upon the
heads of his portraits. He painted other old men's heads at the same
date, and all are remarkable for indefatigable elaboration and care. In
this same year, Rembrandt produced more than thirty etchings."
After several years passed at Leyden, Rembrandt removed his studio to
Amsterdam, a rich and flourishing city of one hundred thousand people at
that time, whither his fame had preceded him. He hired apartments over a
shop on the Bloemgracht, a quay in the western part of the city, where
numerous pupils soon came to him, and commissions from the wealthy. One
of his first principal works was "The Presentation in the Temple," now
in the museum at the Hague. "The picture," says Mr. Sweetser, "presents
a great temple interior, with groups of citizens and prelates, and, in
the centre, massed under a bright light, the Holy Family, with the
richly robed Simeon adoring the child Jesus. It is full of the strong
shades and contrasting brightness of the new school of art, replete with
poetic power and fresh personality, warm in golden lights, and in
certain parts showing a rare minuteness of finish in detail. This
subject was always a favorite with Rembrandt, and several other
paintings thereof are preserved, together with numerous sketches and
engravings, showing the venerable Simeon in the Temple at Jerusalem.
"The 'Susannah' was executed during the same year, and is now at the
Hague. The shrinking, naked figure of the fair bather, though lacking in
statuesque beauty and symmetry, is thoroughly natural and tender,
palpitating with life, and lighted with a warm and harmonious glow.
This, also, was a favorite theme with Rembrandt, and conveniently
replaced the Diana and Actaeon of the classical painters with a subject
not less alluring, and perhaps more permissible."
Rembrandt also painted "St. Jerome," now at Aix-la-Chapelle, the lost
pictures of "Lot and his Daughters," and the "Baptism of the Eunuch;"
"The Young Man," now at Windsor; the "Prophetess Anna," in the
Oldenbourg Gallery; the "Portrait of a Man," in the Brunswick Museum;
and about forty etchings, among them two portraits of his mother,
several of himself; the "Bath of Diana," and the Meeting of "Danae and
Jupiter."
In 1632, Rembrandt painted his famous "School of Anatomy," now at the
Hague, for which the Dutch government, two centuries later, gave
thirty-two thousand florins.
"This picture represents the celebrated anatomist, Nicolaus Tulp, a
friend and patron of Rembrandt, in a vaulted saloon, engaged in
explaining the anatomy of the arm of a corpse. He wears a black cloak
with a lace collar, and a broad-brimmed soft hat. With his half-raised
left hand, he makes a gesture of explanation, while with his right he is
dissecting a sinew of the arm of his subject. The corpse lies on a table
before him. To the right of Tulp is a group of five figures; and two
other men are sitting at the table in front. These listeners are not
students, but members of the guild of surgeons of Amsterdam, as shown by
a paper held by one of them. They are attending to the lecture with very
various expressions.
"They are all bare-headed, dressed in black, and with turned-over
collars except one, who still wears the old-fashioned upright ruff.
There are, perhaps, other persons present in the hall, as Tulp appears
to be looking beyond the picture, as if about to address an audience not
visible to the spectator; and it is here worthy of remark that
Rembrandt's compositions are never imprisoned in their frames, but
convey an idea of a wide space beyond them. It is somewhat singular
that the spectator seems hardly to notice the corpse lying before him at
full length, the feet of which he can almost touch, although it is
strongly lighted in contrast to the surrounding black garments, and most
faithfully presents the peculiar hue of a dead body, leaving no doubt
that it was painted from nature, as well as the living heads. The
admirable art of the composition consists in its power of riveting the
attention to the living in the presence of death."
Amicis says: "It is difficult to express the effect produced by this
picture. The first feeling is that of horror and repulsion from the
corpse. The forehead is in shadow, the eyes open with the pupils turned
upwards, the mouth half open as if in astonishment, the chest sunken,
the legs and feet stiff, the flesh livid, and looking as if, should you
touch it with your hand, it would feel cold. With this rigid body a
powerful contrast is produced by the vivacious attitudes, the youthful
faces, the bright, attentive eyes, full of thought, of the disciples,
revealing in different degrees the avidity for knowledge, the joy of
learning, curiosity, wonder, the strength of intelligence, the suspense
of the mind. The master has the tranquil face, the serene eye, and the
almost smiling lip of one who feels the complacency of knowledge. There
is in the complexion of the group an air of mystery, gravity, and
scientific solemnity, which inspires reverence and silence.
"The contrast between the light and shadow is as marvellous as that
between life and death. It is all done with extraordinary finish; one
can count the folds of the ruffs, the lines of the face, the hairs of
the beards. It is said that the foreshortening of the corpse is wrong,
and that in some points the finish runs into dryness, but universal
judgment places the 'Lesson in Anatomy' among the greatest triumphs of
human genius.
"Rembrandt was only twenty-six years old when he painted this picture,
which, therefore, belongs to his first manner, in which there are not
yet apparent that fire and audacity, that sovereign security in his own
genius, which shine in the works of his maturer years: but there is
already that luminous potency, that marvellous _chiaroscuro_, that magic
of contrasts, which form the most original trait of his genius."
I remember, in standing before this picture, to have had the same
"repulsion" of which Amicis speaks. How differently one feels before
that other marvel of the Hague, Paul Potter's "Bull," so at one with
nature, so tender, so restful! What wonder that it once hung in the
Louvre, beside the "Transfiguration" of Raphael, the "St. Peter Martyr,"
of Titian, and the "Communion of St. Jerome" by Domenichino?
During this year, 1632, Rembrandt executed several portraits of men; the
"Rape of Proserpine," in the Berlin Gallery; "Moses saved from the
Nile;" "Christ and Nicodemus;" the "Oriental Standing," in the gallery
of the King of Holland; the "Betrothed Jewess;" the "Rape of Europa;"
and portraits of six women. His etchings this year were, "Man on
Horseback," "Cottage with White Palings" his first landscape, "Seller of
Rat's Poison," "Jesus being carried to the Tomb," and the "Resurrection
of Lazarus."
In the following year he painted "Susannah Surprised by the Elders,"
which is now in Russia; "The Boat of St. Peter," a powerful conception,
showing dark storm-shadows surrounding the sea-tossed bark, with a high
light thrown on the nearer mountain-like waves and on the men at the
sails; "The Elevation of the Cross," and "The Descent from the Cross,"
bought by Prince Frederick Henry of Holland, and now in Munich; "The
Good Samaritan," now in Sir Richard Wallace's collection; "The
Philosophers in Meditation," two delicate pictures, now in the Louvre;
"The Master Shipbuilder and his Pipe," now at Buckingham Palace, sold
for sixteen thousand five hundred francs, in 1810; portraits of Madame
Grotius, a youth at Dresden, another in the Pourtales Collection, sold
for seven thousand dollars in 1865; and no less than sixteen others,
besides many etchings. One of these portraits, that of a young boy, was
bought by J. de Rothschild, in 1865, for five thousand dollars; and a
portrait of Saskia, now at Cassel, for ten thousand dollars.
Of the picture of Saskia in the Dresden Museum, painted this year,
Professor Mollett says: "The head in this portrait is slightly
inclined, the long chestnut curls are covered by a cherry-colored bonnet
ornamented with white feathers. The light falling on the figure from
above illuminates the rim of the bonnet and the lower part of the face,
while the forehead is covered by the shadow thrown by the hat."
Of the large portrait in the Cassel Gallery, painted the same year, he
says: "In this picture Saskia is very richly dressed, and covered with a
profusion of pearls and precious stones. The face, a delicate profile of
a bright, fresh color, drawn against a dark brown background, is
entirely in the light, almost without shadows."
The portrait of her in the late Fesch Gallery, says Sweetser, "displays
the maiden's snowy complexion, great deep eyes, rosy lips, and rich
auburn hair, adorned with white and green plumes, and wearing pearls on
her neck, and a chain of gold on her green silk mantilla."
Who was Saskia? The lovely and beautiful woman whose life was to
Rembrandt like the transcendent light he threw into his pictures; whose
death left him forever in the shadow of shadows, which he, of all
painters, knew best how to paint.
Saskia van Ulenburgh was the orphan daughter of Rombertus Ulenburgh, a
Frisian lawyer of high standing, envoy from Friesland to the court of
William of Orange. She was wealthy, of lovely character, and attractive
in face and in manner. Her brother-in-law, the painter Nijbrand de
Geest, was a man of influence, and her cousin, Hendrik Ulenburgh, was
the publisher of Rembrandt's engravings. They therefore naturally met
each other. She was young and of distinguished family; the young artist,
who fell in love with her, had his genius alone to offer her.
The devoted love of Rembrandt won the happy-hearted, refined Saskia.
They were married June 5, 1634, when she was twenty-one and Rembrandt
twenty-seven, and went to live in his pleasant home in Amsterdam.
The next eight years were given to arduous work, blessed by the
well-nigh omnipotent influence of a seemingly perfect love. In his
marriage year he painted "Queen Artemisia," now in Madrid; "The
Incredulity of St. Thomas," now at the Hermitage; "Repentance of Peter,"
"Judas and the Blood Money;" a larger "Descent from the Cross," now at
St. Petersburg; "Rev. Mr. Ellison and Wife of the English Church at
Amsterdam," sold in London, in 1860, for about nine thousand dollars;
several portraits of himself and several of Saskia. In the large "Jewish
Wife," in "Bathsheba receiving David's Message," in the long lost
"Vertumnus and Pomona," Saskia, the beloved Saskia, is always the model.
At the same time were made five sketches and sixteen engravings, the
most notable being "The Annunciation to the Shepherds." "This," says
Professor Mollett, "is a night effect, with a mass of trees on the
right hand, and a distance in which a city is seen, with its factories
and bridges in a nest of foliage, and fires reflected in water. In the
foreground the shepherds and their flocks are alarmed by the sudden
appearance of the celestial glory, in the luminous circles of which
thousands of cherubim are flying; an angel is advancing, and, with the
right hand raised, is announcing the news to the shepherds. The whole
composition is wonderful for the energy it displays, and appears as if
it had been thrown on the copper with swift, nervous, inspired touches,
but always accurate and infallible."
In 1635 a son was born to Rembrandt and Saskia, named Rombertus, after
her father, but the child soon died, the first shadow in the famous
artist's home. This year he painted "Samson menacing his Father-in-law,"
now in the Berlin Museum; the "Rape of Ganymede," now at Dresden;
"Christ driving out the Money-changers;" "The Martyrdom of St. Stephen;"
in all, eight portraits, seven other paintings, nine designs, and
twenty-three etchings. One of the most attractive of the pictures about
this time is Rembrandt at home, with Saskia, life-size, and full of
happiness, seated upon his knee.
Three scenes from the history of Tobias follow. The first, the blind
father awaiting his son's return, is in the Berlin Museum; the second
contains Tobias and his wife seated in a chamber; the third illustrates
Tobias restoring sight to his father.
In 1636 he painted "The Entombment," "The Resurrection," and "The
Ascension," companion pictures to the "Crucifixion" painted for Prince
Frederick Henry four years previously; "The Repose in Egypt," now at
Aix-la-Chapelle; "The Ascension," in the Munich Pinakothek; "Samson
blinded by the Philistines, with Delilah in Flight;" and "St. Paul," in
the Vienna Belvidere, besides three portraits and ten etchings.
The finest etching of this period was "Ecce Homo," a marvellous
composition, consisting of an immense number of figures admirably
disposed. Our Lord is seen in front standing, surrounded by guards. His
eyes are raised to heaven, his hands are manacled and clasped together,
and on his head is the crown of thorns. "It is," says Mollett, "one of
the painter's grandest works."
"The 'Ecce Homo,'" says Wilmot Buxton, "to say nothing of the splendor,
the light and shade and richness of execution, has never been surpassed
for dramatic expression; and we forgive the commonness of form and type,
in the expression of touching pathos in the figure of the Saviour; nor
would it be possible to express with greater intensity the terrible
raging of the crowd, the ignobly servile and cruel supplications of the
priests, or the anxious desire to please on the part of Pilate."
The following year, "The Lord of the Vineyard," now in the Hermitage,
was painted, representing the master in a chamber flooded with light,
listening to the complaints of the laborers; "Abraham sending away
Hagar and Ishmael;" and several portraits of himself and Saskia. Now she
is seated at a table face to face with her husband, her blue eyes
looking pleased and happy into his; now they walk hand in hand in a
beautiful landscape.
In July, 1638, a second child gladdened the Rembrandt household, this
time a daughter, named Cornelia after the artist's mother. In less than
four weeks she passed out of Saskia's arms, leaving them again
childless. Rembrandt's father had died six years before, and of his
brothers and sisters, Gerrit, Machteld, and Cornelis were dead also.
Still the painter worked on bravely, for did he not have the one
inspiration that gave almost superhuman power to overcome obstacles, and
made work a pleasure,--the love of his blue-eyed Saskia?
During this year some lawsuits occurred in the family over her property,
and Rembrandt sued some of her relatives for slander, because they had
insinuated that Saskia "has squandered her heritage in ornaments and
ostentation." How little the Friesland people knew of the poetry of the
painter's heart, which, for the love he bore Saskia, decked, with his
rich imagination, every picture of her with more than royal necklaces,
and covered her robes with priceless gems, because she was his idol!
This year, 1638, he painted the great picture "The Feast of Ahasuerus,"
or "The Wedding of Samson," now at Dresden, where at the middle of the
table sits the joyous queen, Esther or Delilah, robed in white silk, and
richly jewelled, of course with Saskia's face; "Christ as a Gardener,"
long owned by the Prince of Hesse-Cassel, presented to Josephine at
Malmaison, and bought by George IV. for Buckingham Palace, where it
still remains; "Joseph telling his Dream;" "The Little Jewish Bride,"
representing St. Catherine and her wheel of martyrdom (the hair, the
pearls, the face are all Saskia's), and other works.
The next year among his many superb portraits are three of his mother:
one in Vienna, painted a year before her death, in a furred cloak,
resting her folded hands on a staff; another with a red shawl on her
head; and still another seated, with her hands joined;--both the latter
in the Hermitage. He also finished "The Entombment" and "The
Resurrection," begun three years before. He said, "These two pieces are
now finished with much of study and of zeal, ... because it is in these
that I have taken care to express the utmost of naturalness and action;
and this is the principal reason why I have been occupied so long on
them." He urged that they be hung in a strong light, for he said, "A
picture is not made to be smelt of. The odor of the colors is
unhealthy."
He etched "The Death of the Virgin," "The Presentation," "Youth
surprised by Death," and others.
The next year, 1640, a baby's voice was again heard in the handsome
Rembrandt home, a little daughter named, for the second time, Cornelia,
but in a few short months the household was again stricken by death.
Rembrandt's activity was now marvellous. In the next two years he
painted "Le Doreur," a portrait of his artist friend Domer, which was
sold in 1865 for over thirty thousand dollars; it is also called "The
Gilder," and is now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York; the
portrait of an aged woman, purchased in 1868 for the Narishkine
Collection, for eleven thousand dollars; "Woman with the Fan," of
Buckingham Palace; the mysterious "Witch of Endor," Schoenborn Gallery in
1867, for five thousand dollars; "The Carpenter's Household," now in the
Louvre, representing Joseph at work, with the tender mother nursing her
child; "The Salutation," in the Grosvenor Gallery; "Susannah at the
Bath;" "The Offering of Manoah," at the Dresden Museum, showing Manoah
and his wife prostrate before the altar, from which an angel crowned
with flowers is ascending; a magnificent portrait of himself at thirty,
in the National Gallery, in a black cap and fur robe, his arms crossed
on a window-sill; sixteen fine etchings, among them three lion-hunts,
the preacher Anslo and his wife seated at a book-laden table; several
exquisite portraits of ladies, and two of the beloved Saskia: one is
full of life and health, with the sweetest expression, and carefully
finished; the other, in 1642, is richly dressed, but the face is
delicate and dreamy, like that of one who may have received a message
from the unseen world.
Professor Mollett says of these, "The first represents Saskia in all the
freshness of her beauty, seen through the prism of love and art; in her
rich dress, fresh color, and bright smile, bearing a strong resemblance
to the Saskia on her husband's knee. It is difficult to imagine a more
charming and amiable face, or a portrait more happy in color and
expression. The work is very carefully finished without being minute,
the tone profound, the touch broad and melting. No greater contrast can
be conceived to this picture bathed in light, radiant with happiness and
health, than the 'Saskia' of Antwerp. This portrait has an indefinable
charm. The very soul of the painter seems to have entered into the
picture, to which a melancholy interest is attached. It bears the same
date as the year of Saskia's death, 1642. The face no longer shows the
serene beauty of youth and strength, but its etherealized and delicate
features have a thoughtful and dreamy expression. It was probably
painted from memory, after Saskia's death."
In September, 1641, a son was born to Saskia, Titus, named for her
sister Titia van Ulenburgh. The latter died the same year. On the 19th
of the next June, Saskia was buried from the Oude Kerk in Amsterdam,
leaving her son, not a year old, and her husband, to whom her loss was
irreparable.
This year he had completed his greatest work, "The Night Watch," now in
the Amsterdam Museum, and stood at the very zenith of his fame. From
this time, while he did much remarkable work, he seems like a man on a
mountain top, looking on one side to sweet meadows filled with flowers
and sunlight, and on the other to a desolate landscape over which a
clouded sun is setting. With Saskia died the best of Rembrandt. Before
her death he had painted various pictures of himself, all joyous, even
fantastic, sometimes as a warrior, sometimes with jewelled robes and
courtly attire. Now for five years he made no portrait of himself, and
then one simple and stern, like a man who lives and does his work
because he must.
"The Night Watch," or the "Sortie of the Banning Cock Company,"
represents Captain Frans Banning Cock's company of arquebusiers emerging
from their guild-house on the Singel. Amicis says of it, "It is more
than a picture; it is a spectacle, and an amazing one. All the French
critics, to express the effect which it produces, make use of the
phrase, '_C'est ecrasant!_' ('It is overpowering!') A great crowd of
human figures, a great light, a great darkness--at the first glance this
is what strikes you, and for a moment you know not where to fix your
eyes in order to comprehend that grand and splendid confusion.
"There are officers, halberdiers, boys running, arquebusiers loading and
firing, youths beating drums, people bowing, talking, calling out,
gesticulating--all dressed in different costumes, with round hats,
pointed hats, plumes, casques, morions, iron gorgets, linen collars,
doublets embroidered with gold, great boots, stockings of all colors,
arms of every form; and all this tumultuous and glittering throng start
out from the dark background of the picture and advance towards the
spectator.
"The two first personages are Frans Banning Cock, Lord of Furmerland and
Ilpendam, captain of the company, and his lieutenant, Willem van
Ruijtenberg, Lord of Vlaardingen, the two marching side by side. The
only figures that are in full light are this lieutenant, dressed in a
doublet of buffalo-hide, with gold ornaments, scarf, gorget, and white
plume, with high boots; and a girl who comes behind, with blond hair
ornamented with pearls, and a yellow satin dress; all the other figures
are in deep shadow, excepting the heads, which are illuminated. By what
light? Here is the enigma. Is it the light of the sun? or of the moon?
or of the torches?
"There are gleams of gold and silver, moonlight, colored reflections,
fiery lights; personages which, like the girl with blond tresses, seem
to shine by a light of their own; faces that seem lighted by the fire of
a conflagration; dazzling scintillations, shadows, twilight, and deep
darkness, all are there, harmonized and contrasted with marvellous
boldness and insuperable art.... In spite of censure, defects,
conflicting judgments, it has been there for two centuries triumphant
and glorious; and the more you look at it, the more it is alive and
glowing; and, even seen only at a glance, it remains forever in the
memory, with all its mystery and splendor, like a stupendous vision."
Charles Blanc says of the picture: "To tell the truth, this is only a
dream of night, and no one can decide what the light is that falls on
the groups of figures. It is neither the light of the sun nor of the
moon, nor does it come from torches; it is rather the light from the
genius of Rembrandt."
The home of the artist at that time, of brick and cut stone, four
stories high, on one of the quays of the river Amstel, must have been
most attractive and happy until the death of Saskia.
Says Mr. Sweetser: "The house still stands, and, by the aid of an
existing legal inventory (dated 1656), we can even refurnish it as it
was in the days of Rembrandt. Entering the vestibule, we find the
flagstone paving covered with fir-wood, with black-cushioned Spanish
chairs for those who wait, and to amuse their leisure several busts and
twenty-four paintings--four each by Brouwer and Lievens, the rest mostly
by Rembrandt.
"The ante-chamber, or saloon, was a large room furnished with seven
Spanish chairs upholstered in green velvet, a great walnut table covered
with Tournay cloth, an ebony-framed mirror, and a marble wine-cooler.
The walls were covered with thirty-nine pictures, many of which were in
massive and elegant frames. There were religious scenes, landscapes,
architectural sketches, works of Pinas, Brouwer, Lucas van Leyden, and
other Dutch masters; sixteen pictures by Rembrandt; and costly paintings
by Palma Vecchio, Bassano, and Raphael.
"The next room was a perfect little museum of art, containing a
profusion of the master's pictures, with rare works of Van Leyden, Van
Dyck, Aartgen, Parsellis, Seghers, and copies from Annibale Caracci. The
oaken press and other furnishings indicated that the marvellous etchings
of our artist were engraved and printed here.
"The next saloon was the gem of the establishment, and was equipped with
a great mirror, an oaken table with an embroidered cloth, six chairs
with blue coverings, a bed with blue hangings, a cedar-wood wardrobe,
and a chest of the same wood. The walls even here showed the profound
artistic taste of the occupant, for they were overlaid with twenty-three
pictures by Aartgen, Lievens, Seghers, and other northern painters; The
'Concordi,' 'Resurrection,' and 'Ecce Homo' of Rembrandt; a Madonna by
Raphael; and Giorgione's great picture of 'The Samaritan.'
"On the next floor the master had his studio and museum. The great
art-chamber contained materials for weeks of study; the walls were
covered with rich and costly _bric-a-brac_--statuettes in marble,
porcelain, and plaster; the Roman emperors; busts of Homer, Aristotle,
and Socrates: Chinese and Japanese porcelains and drawings; Venetian
glass; casts from nature; curious weapons and armor, with a shield
attributed to Quentin Matsys; minerals, plants, stuffed birds, and
shells; rare fans, globes, and books. Another feature was a noble
collection of designs, studies, and engravings, filling sixty leather
portfolios, and including specimens of the best works of the chief
Italian, German, and Dutch artists and engravers."
To gain this beautiful collection of works of art, Rembrandt spared no
money, paying eighty-six dollars for a single engraving of Lucas van
Leyden's, and fourteen hundred florins for fourteen proofs from the same
painter.
After Saskia died, the tide of fortune seemed to turn. Several artists
who had studied in Italy returned to Holland, and popularized the
Italian style, so that the works of Rembrandt seemed to fade somewhat
from the public gaze. With pride and sorrow he went on painting, but he
must have been deeply wounded.
In 1643 and '44, he painted "Bathsheba at the Bath." "The nude figure of
Bathsheba," says Professor Mollett, "stands out in a dazzling effect of
light from a background of warm, confused shadows. The figure is not
beautiful to a sculptor's eye, nor in the Italian style; but in
animation, in the flesh color, and in the modelling it is superb. The
harmony of the tints and of the general tone is very beautiful; tints of
bronze and gold combine with shades of violet, brown, green, and yellow
ochre into a warm, poetic, and mysterious gamut. 'This picture should be
hung in a strong light, that the eye may penetrate into the shadows,'
said Rembrandt."
The other works of this time were the "Diana and Endymion" of the
Liechtenstein Gallery at Vienna; "Philemon and Baucis;" the "Old Woman
Weighing Gold," now in the Dresden Museum; "The Woman taken in
Adultery," which brought thirty thousand dollars at public sale, and is
now in the English National Gallery; a portrait of Jan Cornelis Sylvius,
which was sold in 1872 for nearly eight thousand dollars, and the
"Burgomaster Six" for six thousand dollars. The latter was the portrait
of Jan Six, a young patrician, an enthusiastic student and poet, married
to Margaret the daughter of the famous surgeon Dr. Tulp.
Other pictures in the next few years were "The Tribute Money;" the
"Burgomaster Pancras giving a Collar of Pearls to his Wife," now owned
by Queen Victoria; "Abraham receiving the Three Angels;" two paintings
of the "Adoration of the Shepherds," one now in Munich and one in the
National Gallery; "The Good Samaritan," and "The Pilgrims of Emmaus,"
now in the Louvre; and "The Peace of the Land," celebrating the peace of
Westphalia, now in the Boymans Museum at Rotterdam. "It represents the
enclosure of a fortress, the walls of which are visible in the
right-hand background, where cannons are blazing and a group of soldiers
fighting; the right-hand foreground is entirely occupied by a group of
horsemen, of remarkable vigor and truth; on the left are two thrones,
on one of which leans a figure of Justice, clasping her hands as if in
supplication. The centre, which is in the light, is occupied by a
couchant lion growling, his one paw on a bundle of arrows, the symbol of
the United Provinces. The lion is bound by two chains, the one attached
to the thrones, the other fastened to an elevation, bearing on a shield
the arms of Amsterdam, surrounded by the words, 'Soli Deo Gloria.'"
"Samuel taught by his Mother," "Christ appearing to Mary," "The
Prophetess Anna," "Jesus blessing Little Children," purchased for the
National Gallery for thirty-five thousand dollars;--"The Bather," in the
National Gallery, of which Landseer says: "It is the most artful thing
ever done in painting, and the most unsophisticated;" a likeness of
Rembrandt's son Titus, now twelve years old, were his next works.
Fifty-seven etchings were made between 1649 and 1655, the most
celebrated being the "Hundred-Guilder Print," or "Jesus healing the
Sick."
"The subject of this etching is taken from the words, 'And Jesus went
about all Galilee, preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all
manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people.' The
serene and calm figure of Jesus stands out from the shadow of the
background, preaching to the people around him. By a superb antithesis,
the Pharisees and Sadducees, the priests and the curious and
unbelieving, are standing on Christ's right hand, bathed in light,
while from the shadows that envelop the left side of the picture are
coming the sick, the possessed, and unfortunates of all kinds. The
composition is full of feeling, drawn and executed with a rare genius,
the details revealing a world of expression and character: the lights
and shadows, disposed in large masses, are of wonderful softness. The
etching, commenced with aqua-fortis, is finished with the dry point, the
silvery neutral tints of Christ's robe and the soft shadows being
produced in this manner."
Frederick Wedmore says in his "Masters of Genre-Painting," "I should be
thankful for the 'Hundred-Guilder Print,' were it only because of the
half-dozen lines in which Rembrandt has etched one figure, to me the
central one, a tall man, old and spare, and a little bent, with drooped
arms, and hands clasped together in gesture of mild awe and gently felt
surprise, as of one from whose slackened vitality the power of _great_
surprise or of _very_ keen interest has forever gone. On his face there
is the record of much pain, of sufferings not only his own, not only of
the body, but of saddening experiences which have left him quelled and
forever grave."
The name arose from the fact that a Roman merchant gave Rembrandt for
one engraving seven Marc Antonio engravings, which were valued at a
hundred guilders, and the artist would never sell any of these pictures
below this price. Only eight impressions of the first plate are in
existence; two are in the British Museum, one is in Paris, one in
Amsterdam, one in Vienna, one in the collection of the Duke of
Buccleuch, one in Mr. Holford's, and one owned by M. Eugene Dutuit of
Rouen, sold in 1867 for about six thousand dollars.
When Saskia died, she left her property--she had brought Rembrandt forty
thousand florins--to her infant son Titus, with the condition that her
husband should have the use of the money until his death or his second
marriage. If the boy died, Rembrandt was to receive the whole estate,
save in case of a second marriage, when half should go to her sister.
Already Saskia's friends saw the money passing away from the artist, and
they brought suits for Titus's sake, to recover it. Finally, in 1656, he
transferred his house and land to Titus, with the privilege of remaining
there during the pleasure of Saskia's relatives.
Matters did not improve, and the following year all the rich collection
of art works and household goods were sold by auction to meet the
demands of creditors. The next year his engravings and designs were sold
in the same way, and the year following the house was disposed of,
Rembrandt being allowed to remove two stoves only and some screens.
These must have been bitter days for the once happy artist. It was
fortunate that Saskia did not live to see such a direful change.
During all the struggle and disgrace Rembrandt kept on working. In 1656
and '57 he painted for the Surgeons' Guild, a large picture, "Lesson on
Anatomy of Joan Deyman," containing the portraits of nine celebrated
doctors; "St. John the Baptist Preaching," a canvas with over one
hundred small figures; "The Adoration of the Magi," now in Buckingham
Palace and greatly admired; "Joseph accused by Potiphar's Wife," and
"Jacob blessing Ephraim and Manasseh."
Professor Mollett says that the "Jacob" "belongs as much to all times
and all nations as the masterpieces of Greek sculpture. This touching
scene, which is simply rendered with all the power of Rembrandt's art,
represents the aged patriarch extending his hands, which Joseph is
guiding, towards the boys, who are kneeling before him. Behind the bed
stands their mother, Asenath, with clasped hands. The light falling from
behind Jacob, on the left, leaves his face in the shade. His head is
covered by a yellowish cap, bordered with clear-colored fur; the sleeve
of the right arm is of a beautiful gray; the hand painted with large,
broad touches. The bed is covered with a sheet and a counterpane of pale
red and fawn color.
"Joseph wears a turban, and his wife a high cap, long veil, and robe of
gray and fawn-colored brown. The fair child has a yellow vest; and his
head, bright with reflected lights, is very fine in tone, and of extreme
delicacy. We see the colors here employed are gray and fawn-colored
brown, which, in the highest notes, only reach subdued red or yellow.
The whole bears a mysterious air; in a fine and luminous light, filled
with tones and half-tones that are indefinable. The touch is of such
surpassing boldness and ease, that, when viewed in detail, the picture
might be called a sketch, if the harmony and completeness of the whole
did not indicate the maturity and profundity of the work."
After Rembrandt's home was sold, he hired a house on the Rosengracht, a
retired but respectable part of the city, two blocks away from the
Bloemgracht, where he began life with his beloved Saskia. Here, as
elsewhere, he gathered admiring pupils about him, and kept diligently at
his work. It is probable that he was married at this time, or later, for
in 1663 he painted a picture known as "Rembrandt and his Family," now in
the Brunswick Museum, where a rosy and smiling lady is seated with a
child on her lap, while two little girls of perhaps five and seven stand
by her. The man with brown hair stands on the left, giving a flower to
one of the girls.
Rembrandt's chief works now were "Moses descending from Sinai, and
breaking the Tables of the Law," "Jacob wrestling with the Angels," a
striking picture of "Ziska and his Adherents swearing to avenge the
Death of Huss," and "The Syndics of the Guild of Clothmakers," now in
the Amsterdam Museum.
Professor Springer writes concerning the latter picture, the "School of
Anatomy," and "The Night Watch:" "Art has never again created a greater
wealth of stirring imagery or poetry of color so entrancing as these
three pictures reveal to us. Unconsciously our thoughts return to
Shakspeare's familiar creations, and we recognize in these two mighty
art champions of the north kindred natures and a corresponding bent of
fancy."
In 1668, Titus, now twenty-seven years old,--he studied painting, but
became a merchant,--was married to his cousin Magdalena van Loo, one of
the Frisian families, and died in September of the same year. The next
March, his widow bore a daughter who received the name of Titia, for her
dead father. Magdalena died in the same year in which her child was
born. Thus frequently did sorrow shadow the path of the great master of
shadows.
This year, Rembrandt painted several portraits of himself. "In that of
the Pitti Palace, we see him wrapped in fur, a medal is hung about his
neck, and he is wearing a close-fitting cap, from which his ample white
hair escapes. His face is furrowed with age, but the brightness of the
eye is not diminished....
"In the splendid portrait in the Double Collection at Rouen, he again
stands before us, with bending attitude and slightly inclined head, in
theatrical costume, with his maulstick in his hand, laughing heartily.
And this is Rembrandt's farewell! His face is wrinkled across and across
by time and care, but it is no gloomy misanthrope crushed by evil
fortune whom we see, but the man who opposed to all fortunes the
talisman of Labor, and thus paints the secret of his life in his final
portrait of himself, in the midst of his work, scorning destiny."
A year after Titus died, death came to Rembrandt, at sixty-two. He was
buried simply in the West Church, so simply that the registered expense
of his burial is fifteen florins!
His power of work was marvellous. He painted over six hundred and twenty
pictures, executed three hundred and sixty-five etchings, besides two
hundred and thirty-seven variations of these, with hundreds of drawings
and sketches scattered over Europe. Among the best known etchings are
"Rembrandt's Portrait with the Sword," "Lazarus rising from the Dead,"
the "Hundred-Florin Plate," "Annunciation," "Ecce Homo," "The Good
Samaritan," "The Great Descent from the Cross," the landscape with the
mill, and that with the three trees.
That he was a man of great depth of feeling is shown by his love of his
mother, his worship of Saskia, and his tenderness to his brothers and
sisters after they had lost their fortunes. He was also passionately
fond of nature and of animals. Sweetser tells this incident: "One day he
was making a portrait group of a notable family, when he was informed
that his favorite monkey had died. The grieving artist caused the body
to be brought to the studio, and made its portrait on the same canvas on
which he was engaged. The family, aforesaid, was naturally incensed at
such an interpolation, and demanded that it should be effaced; but
Rembrandt preferred to keep the whole work himself, and let his patrons
seek a more accommodating artist."
Taine pays Rembrandt this glowing tribute in his "Art in the
Netherlands:" "Rembrandt, constantly collecting his materials, living in
solitude and borne along by the growth of an extraordinary faculty,
lived, like our Balzac, a magician and a visionary in a world fashioned
by his own hand, and of which he alone possessed the key. Superior to
all painters in the native delicacy and keenness of his optical
perceptions, he comprehended this truth and adhered to it in all its
consequence,--that, to the eye, the essence of a visible object consists
of the spot (_tache_), that the simplest color is infinitely complex,
that every visual sensation is the product of its elements coupled with
its surroundings, that each object on the field of sight is but a single
spot modified by others, and that in this wise the principal feature of
a picture is the ever-present, tremulous, colored atmosphere into which
figures are plunged like fishes in the sea....
"Free of all trammels and guided by the keen sensibility of his organs,
he has succeeded in portraying in man not merely the general structure
and the abstract type which answers for classic art, but again that
which is peculiar and profound in the individual, the infinite and
indefinable complications of the moral being, the whole of that
changeable imprint which concentrates instantaneously on a face the
entire history of a soul, and which Shakespeare alone saw with an
equally prodigious lucidity.
"In this respect he is the most original of modern artists, and forges
one end of the chain of which the Greeks forged the other; the rest of
the masters, Florentine, Venetian, and Flemish, stand between them; and
when, nowadays, our over-excited sensibility, our extravagant curiosity
in the pursuit of subtleties, our unsparing search of the true, our
divination of the remote and the obscure in human nature, seeks for
predecessors and masters, it is in him and in Shakespeare that Balzac
and Delacroix are able to find them."