There have been found occasionally some artists who could so perfectly
imitate the spirit, the taste, the character, and the peculiarities of
great masters, that they have not unfrequently deceived the most skilful
connoisseurs. Michael Angelo sculptured a sleeping Cupid, of which
having broken off an arm, he buried the statue in a place where he knew
it would soon be found. The critics were never tired of admiring it, as
one of the most precious relics of antiquity. It was sold to the
Cardinal of St. George, to whom Michael Angelo discovered the whole
mystery, by joining to the Cupid the arm which he had reserved.
An anecdote of Peter Mignard is more singular. This great artist painted
a Magdalen on a canvas fabricated at Rome. A broker, in concert with
Mignard, went to the Chevalier de Clairville, and told him as a secret
that he was to receive from Italy a Magdalen of Guido, and his
masterpiece. The chevalier caught the bait, begged the preference, and
purchased the picture at a very high price.
He was informed that he had been imposed upon, and that the Magdalen was
painted by Mignard. Mignard himself caused the alarm to be given, but
the amateur would not believe it; all the connoisseurs agreed it was a
Guido, and the famous Le Brun corroborated this opinion.
The chevalier came to Mignard:--"Some persons assure me that my Magdalen
is your work!"--"Mine! they do me great honour. I am sure that Le Brun
is not of this opinion." "Le Brun swears it can be no other than a
Guido. You shall dine with me, and meet several of the first
connoisseurs."
On the day of meeting, the picture was again more closely inspected.
Mignard hinted his doubts whether the piece was the work of that great
master; he insinuated that it was possible to be deceived; and added,
that if it was Guido's, he did not think it in his best manner. "It is a
Guido, sir, and in his very best manner," replied Le Brun, with warmth;
and all the critics were unanimous. Mignard then spoke in a firm tone of
voice: "And I, gentlemen, will wager three hundred louis that it is not
a Guido." The dispute now became violent: Le Brun was desirous of
accepting the wager. In a word, the affair became such that it could add
nothing more to the glory of Mignard. "No, sir," replied the latter, "I
am too honest to bet when I am certain to win. Monsieur le Chevalier,
this piece cost you two thousand crowns: the money must be
returned,--the painting is _mine_." Le Brun would not believe it. "The
proof," Mignard continued, "is easy. On this canvas, which is a Roman
one, was the portrait of a cardinal; I will show you his cap."--The
chevalier did not know which of the rival artists to credit. The
proposition alarmed him. "He who painted the picture shall repair it,"
said Mignard. He took a pencil dipped in oil, and rubbing the hair of
the Magdalen, discovered the cap of the cardinal. The honour of the
ingenious painter could no longer be disputed; Le Brun, vexed,
sarcastically exclaimed, "Always paint Guido, but never Mignard."
There is a collection of engravings by that ingenious artist Bernard
Picart, which has been published under the title of _The Innocent
Impostors_. Picart had long been vexed at the taste of his day, which
ran wholly in favour of antiquity, and no one would look at, much less
admire, a modern master. He published a pretended collection, or a set
of prints, from the designs of the great painters; in which he imitated
the etchings and engravings of the various masters, and much were these
prints admired as the works of Guido, Rembrandt, and others. Having had
his joke, they were published under the title of _Imposteurs
Innocentes_. The connoisseurs, however, are strangely divided in their
opinion of the merit of this collection. Gilpin classes these "Innocent
Impostors" among the most entertaining of his works, and is delighted by
the happiness with which he has outdone in their own excellences the
artists whom he copied; but Strutt, too grave to admit of jokes that
twitch the connoisseurs, declares that they could never have deceived an
experienced judge, and reprobates such kinds of ingenuity, played off at
the cost of the venerable brotherhood of the cognoscenti.
The same thing was, however, done by Goltzius, who being disgusted at
the preference given to the works of Albert Durer, Lucas of Leyden, and
others of that school, and having attempted to introduce a better taste,
which was not immediately relished, he published what were afterwards
called his _masterpieces_. These are six prints in the style of these
masters, merely to prove that Goltzius could imitate their works, if he
thought proper. One of these, the Circumcision, he had printed on soiled
paper; and to give it the brown tint of antiquity had carefully smoked
it, by which means it was sold as a curious performance, and deceived
some of the most capital connoisseurs of the day, one of whom bought it
as one of the finest engravings of Albert Durer: even Strutt
acknowledges the merit of Goltzius's _masterpieces_!
To these instances of artists I will add others of celebrated authors.
Muretus rendered Joseph Scaliger, a great stickler for the ancients,
highly ridiculous by an artifice which he practised. He sent some verses
which he pretended were copied from an old manuscript. The verses were
excellent, and Scaliger was credulous. After having read them, he
exclaimed they were admirable, and affirmed that they were written by an
old comic poet, Trabeus. He quoted them, in his commentary on Varro _De
Re Rusticâ_, as one of the most precious fragments of antiquity. It was
then, when he had fixed his foot firmly in the trap, that Muretus
informed the world of the little dependence to be placed on the critical
sagacity of one so prejudiced in favour of the ancients, and who
considered his judgment as infallible.
The Abbé Regnier Desmarais, having written an ode or, as the Italians
call it, canzone, sent it to the Abbé Strozzi at Florence, who used it
to impose on three or four academicians of Della Crusca. He gave out
that Leo Allatius, librarian of the Vatican, in examining carefully the
MSS. of Petrarch preserved there, had found two pages slightly glued,
which having separated, he had discovered this ode. The fact was not at
first easily credited; but afterwards the similarity of style and manner
rendered it highly probable. When Strozzi undeceived the public, it
procured the Abbé Regnier a place in the academy, as an honourable
testimony of his ingenuity.
Père Commire, when Louis XIV. resolved on the conquest of Holland,
composed a Latin fable, entitled "The Sun and the Frogs," in which he
assumed with such felicity the style and character of Phædrus, that the
learned Wolfius was deceived, and innocently inserted it in his edition
of that fabulist.
Flaminius Strada would have deceived most of the critics of his age, if
he had given as the remains of antiquity the different pieces of history
and poetry which he composed on the model of the ancients, in his
_Prolusiones Academicæ_. To preserve probability he might have given out
that he had drawn them, from some old and neglected library; he had then
only to have added a good commentary, tending to display the conformity
of the style and manner of these fragments with the works of those
authors to whom he ascribed them.
Sigonius was a great master of the style of Cicero, and ventured to
publish a treatise _De Consolatione_, as a composition of Cicero
recently discovered; many were deceived by the counterfeit, which was
performed with great dexterity, and was long received as genuine; but he
could not deceive Lipsius, who, after reading only ten lines, threw it
away, exclaiming, "_Vah! non est Ciceronis_." The late Mr. Burke
succeeded more skilfully in his "Vindication of Natural Society," which
for a long time passed as the composition of Lord Bolingbroke; so
perfect is this ingenious imposture of the spirit, manner, and course of
thinking of the noble author. I believe it was written for a wager, and
fairly won.