PIERRE LAFITTE & CIE, PARIS

(In a Private Collection, United States)

From his numerous journeys to the East, Gérôme brought back many

curious memoranda of picturesque scenes, which he subsequently

converted into brilliant canvases. He excelled in reproducing the

caressing beauty of shimmering carpets and the rippling sheen of silken

textures.]

In the company of this experienced and reliable guide, we wander from

_Jerusalem_ (1868) to the _Great Bath at Broussa_ (1885), from a

_Corner of Cairo_ to _Medinet_ and _Fayoum_. Here we have the severed

heads in the _Mosque of El Hecanin_, the nude woman in the _Moorish

Bath_, all the barbarity and all the grace of the Orient,--and

invariably the anecdote, whether agreeable or sinister, blends with the

matchless splendour of the landscape.

To this list must be added _Recreation in Camp, a Souvenir of Moldavia_

(Salon of 1854), in which a soldier is dancing before his assembled

comrades, to the sound of drums, fifes, and violins. A sentinel keeps

watch. It is a picture taken in the act, and intensely real.

It is easy to detect the historian, or, to adopt the expression of

M. Jules Claretie, the "Memoir Maker," possessed of the true gift,

agreeable and individual, lurking behind every one of the works of

this authoritative orientalist. He dedicated himself quite naturally

and with great success to the interpretation of history and of the

historic and literary anecdote.

His love of contrasts, his gift for depicting locality and somehow

conveying the very atmosphere belonging to the varied scenes that

are to be brought before the spectator's eye, give amplitude to such

attractive little compositions as _Louis XIV. and Molière_ (1863),

and _A Collaboration_ (1874); evoke the whole sombre tragedy of the

death of Maréchal Ney, _December 7, 1815, Nine o'clock in the Morning_

(1868); and appeal successively to our curiosity, our sympathy, or our

admiration, with a Frederick II., conqueror of Silesia, playing on

his flute, the _King Flutist_ (1874, purchased by M. H. Oppenheim),

_His Gray Eminence_ (1874), in which the austere and dominant Father

Joseph is making his way alone, down the stairway, in the presence

of the obsequious courtiers; a Bonaparte day-dreaming before the

Sphinx, _Oedipus_ (1886), a _Bonaparte at Cairo_ gazing at the town

from the back of his Arab horse, a _Bonaparte in Egypt_, mounted on a

white dromedary, dreaming of his omnipotence, of his conquest of the

universe, and surrounded by his overdriven soldiers.

As a matter of fact, Gérôme made a sort of hero-worship of Napoleon

and the Napoleonic epic, resembling in this respect his friend, M.

Frédéric Masson, the celebrated historian of the Emperor, who was

better qualified than any other writer to pay an eloquent tribute to

this _Bonaparte in Egypt_.

"Bonaparte is no longer on the road to Syria, he is on the road to

India; he is hesitating between the two halves of the world that he

holds in his hands; he is weighing the destiny of Alexander against the

destiny of Cæsar; he is asking himself whether Asia, to which he holds

the key, is a fair exchange for Europe which he has just quitted; and

while his dream embraces the universe, he leaves his human rubbish heap

to suffer."

Gérôme is wholly himself when he has an anecdote to give us, whether

it be subtle, humorous, kindly, or dramatic, and even,--why not use the

word?--melodramatic.

Classified thus, _The Duel after the Masquerade_ fully deserves

its brilliant reputation. Reproduced, not only in lithographs and

engravings, but even transferred to the theatre (given at the Gymnase,

in 1881, by Mme. Fould), its subject has become a matter of general

knowledge. It is winter in the Bois de Boulogne. A number of people

in fancy costume are bending over a wounded Pierrot, while one of the

witnesses of this improvised duel is leading away the murderer, the

Harlequin.

One can see at once what a tremendous appeal a subject like this would

have for the general public.

This singular drama, taking place in the snow, all this joyousness

ending in bloodshed and perhaps death, is so fantastic that it leaves a

lasting impression. It was, by the way, as M. Guillaumin has explained,

suggested by an actual duel that took place between Deluns-Montaud,

the Harlequin, and the Prefect of Police Bortelle, the Pierrot.

Undoubtedly there was, and still is, ground for criticism. Alexandre

Dumas thought, not unreasonably, that serious-minded men of that

age would not go out to fight each other in such a costume. Edmond

About criticized the pose of Crispin supporting on his knee an

entire group of spectators, along with the body of poor Pierrot. But

Paul de Saint-Victor praised the "truthfulness of the postures, the

etching-like precision of the heads, the wise planning of the whole

composition."

In order to appreciate better the daring fantasy and the wise and

invariably picturesque inventiveness of Gérôme, we have only to study

further such works as the Frieze destined to be reproduced upon a vase

commemorative of the Exposition of London (1853), _Rembrandt Etching_

(exhibited in 1867, purchased by M. E. Fould), which has been admired

for its golden half-shadows and freely compared to Gerard Dow, the

_Reception of the Siamese Ambassadors_ (1865), _The First Kiss of

the Sun_ (1886), the _Poet_, _Thirst_ (1888), and fantasies, such

as, _The Amateur of Tulips_, _Whoever you are, here is your Master_;

anecdotal portraits throwing side lights on history, such as: _They are

Conspiring_, or _Not Convenient_, _Louis XI. visiting Cardinal Balue_,

_Promenade of the Court in the Gardens of Versailles_ (1896); animals

full of life and prowess, such as: _The Lioness meeting a Jaguar_

and _Ego nominor Leo_, a lion rendered life size; lastly, his studio

interiors, in which he has chosen to depict himself exactly as he was,

that is to say, a sincere, clear-sighted, and indefatigable workman.

In the most recent of these studio pictures, he appears, wearing a

sculptor's blouse and occupied in modelling a statuette of a woman.

He astonished his friends and admirers, during his last years, by his

earnest labours in sculpture. His two groups, _The Gladiators_ and

_Anacreon, Bacchus and Cupid_, claimed the attention of the public at

the Exposition of 1878; and it was the same with his marble statue of

_Omphale_ (1887), his _Tanagra_, his _Dancing Girl_, his bronze _Lion_

(1890, 1891), etc.

His efforts to revive the art of coloured or polychrome sculpture, the

so-called chryselephantine sculpture, which invokes the aid of various

precious elements, constitute one of the most curious and important

artistic experiments of modern times, even though the result did not

always come up to the expectation.

On February 2, 1892, in an unpublished letter addressed to M. Germain

Bapst, who desired information concerning the artist's experiment,

Gérôme wrote: "I have always been struck with a sense of the coldness

of statues if, when the work is once finished, it is left in its

natural state. I have already made some experiments and am continuing

my efforts, for I am anxious to bring before the eyes of the public a

few demonstrations that I hope will be conclusive. I know that there

are a great many protests. The world always protests against anything

which is, I will not merely say new, but even renewed; for it disturbs

a good many people in their tranquillity and their routine." And after

having first shown that ancient architecture was adorned with colours

and that in chryselephantine sculpture the Greeks combined gold, tin,

and ivory, that they painted the marble and united it with various

metals, Gérôme added: "Shall I succeed? At least I shall have the

honour of having made the attempt."

In the interesting study which M. Germain Bapst devoted to this

question, after having, as we have seen, consulted the artist himself,

he recalled the fact that both in chateaux and in churches the Mediæval

statuary was coloured. In Greece, the Minerva Parthenos contained a

weight of gold equivalent to more than 2,200,000 francs in the French

currency of to-day. The statue of Jupiter at Olympus was partly of

ivory and partly of gold.

[Illustration: PLATE VIII.--THE TWO MAJESTIES

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