grate. This sort of oak makes a brisker fire than any other wood
whatever; but the wood of elder-trees and pine-trees is used in casting
artillery, because it makes a mild and gentle fire. As soon as the
concreted metal felt the power of this violent fire, it began to
brighten and glitter. In another quarter I made them hurry the tubes
with all possible expedition, and sent some of them to the roof of the
house to take care of the fire, which through the great violence of the
wind had acquired new force; and towards the garden I had caused some
tables with pieces of tapestry and old clothes to be placed in order to
shelter me from the rain. As soon as I had applied the proper remedy to
each evil, I with a loud voice cried out to my men to bestir themselves
and lend a helping hand; so that when they saw that the concreted metal
began to melt again, the whole body obeyed me with such zeal and
alacrity that every man did the work of three. Then I caused a mass of
pewter weighing about sixty pounds to be thrown upon the metal in the
furnace, which, with the other helps, as the brisk wood-fire, and
stirring it sometimes with iron and sometimes with long poles, soon
became completely dissolved. Finding that, contrary to the opinion of my
ignorant assistants, I had effected what seemed as difficult to raise as
the dead, I recovered my vigor to such a degree that I no longer
perceived whether I had any fever, nor had I the least apprehension of
death.
"Suddenly a loud noise was heard, and a glittering of fire flashed
before our eyes, as if it had been the darting of a thunderbolt. Upon
the appearance of this extraordinary phenomenon terror seized upon all
present, and none more than myself. This tremendous noise being over, we
began to stare at each other, and perceived that the cover of the
furnace had burst and flown off, so that the bronze began to run.
"I immediately caused the mouths of my mould to be opened; but, finding
that the metal did not run with its usual velocity, and apprehending
that the cause of it was that the fusibility of the metal was injured by
the violence of the fire, I ordered all my dishes and porringers, which
were in number about two hundred, to be placed one by one before my
tubes, and part of them to be thrown into the furnace; upon which all
present perceived that my mould was filling: they now with joy and
alacrity assisted and obeyed me. I, for my part, was sometimes in one
place, sometimes in another, giving my directions and assisting my men,
before whom I offered up this prayer: 'O God, I address myself to thee.
I acknowledge in gratitude this mercy, that my mould has been filled. I
fall prostrate before thee, and with my whole heart return thanks to thy
divine majesty.'
"My prayer being over, I took a plate of meat which stood upon a little
bench, and ate with a great appetite. I then drank with all my
journeymen and assistants, and went joyful and in good health to bed;
for there were still two hours of night, and I rested as well as if I
had been troubled with no disorder.
"My good housekeeper, without my having given any orders, had provided a
good capon for my dinner. When I arose, which was not till about noon,
she accosted me in high spirits, and said merrily, 'Is this the man that
thought himself dying? It is my firm belief that the cuffs and kicks you
gave us last night when you were quite frantic and possessed, frightened
away your fever, which, apprehending you should fall upon it in the same
manner, took to flight.' So my whole poor family, having got over such
panics and hardships, without delay procured earthen vessels to supply
the place of the pewter dishes and porringers, and we all dined together
very cheerfully; indeed, I do not remember having ever in my life eaten
a meal with greater satisfaction or a better appetite. After dinner, all
those who had assisted me in my work came and congratulated me upon what
had happened, returned thanks to the Divine Being for having interposed
so mercifully in our behalf, and declared that they had in theory and
practice learnt such things as were judged impossible by other masters.
I thereupon thought it allowable to boast a little of my knowledge and
skill in this fine art, and, pulling out my purse, satisfied all my
workmen for their labor.
"Having left my work to cool during two days after it was cast, I began
gradually to uncover it. I first of all found the Medusa's head, which
had come out admirably by the assistance of the vents. I proceeded to
uncover the rest, and found that the other head--I mean that of
Perseus--was likewise come out perfectly well. I went on uncovering it
with great success, and found every part turn out to admiration, till I
reached the foot of the right leg, which supports the figure. I found
that not only the toes were wanting, but part of the foot itself, so
that there was almost one half deficient. This occasioned me some new
trouble; but I was not displeased at it, as I had expected this very
thing.
"It pleased God that as soon as ever my work, although still unfinished,
was seen by the populace, they set up so loud a shout of applause, that
I began to be somewhat comforted for the mortifications I had undergone;
and there were sonnets in my praise every day upon the gate, the
language of which was extremely elegant and poetical. The very day on
which I exhibited my work, there were above twenty sonnets set up,
containing the most hyperbolical praises of it. Even after I had covered
it again, every day a number of verses, with Latin odes and Greek poems,
were published on the occasion,--for it was then vacation at the
University of Pisa, and all the learned men and scholars belonging to
that place vied with each other in writing encomiums on my performance.
But what gave me the highest satisfaction was that even those of the
profession--I mean statuaries and painters--emulated each other in
commending me. In fact, I was so highly praised, and in so elegant a
style, that it afforded me some alleviation for my past mortification
and troubles, and I made all the haste I could to put the last hand to
my statue.
"At last, as it pleased the Almighty, I completely finished my work, and
on a Thursday morning exhibited it fully. Just before the break of day
so great a crowd gathered about it, that it is almost impossible for me
to give the reader an idea of their number; and they all seemed to vie
with each other who should praise it most. The duke stood at a lower
window of the palace, just over the gate, and, being half concealed
within side, heard all that was said concerning the work. After he had
listened several hours, he left the window highly pleased, and sent me
this message: 'Go to Benvenuto, and tell him from me that he has given
me higher satisfaction than I ever expected. Let him know at the same
time that I shall reward him in such a manner as will excite his
surprise.'"
* * * * *
The manuscript of Benvenuto's Life is not carried much farther. The
narrative breaks off abruptly in 1562, when Cellini was in the
sixty-second year of his age. He does not appear from this time to have
been engaged in any work of much importance. After the execution of his
grand achievement of the Perseus, the narrative of his life seems to
have been the most successful of all the labors of his declining years.
On the 15th day of February, 1570, this extraordinary man died. He was
buried, by his own direction, with great funeral pomp. A monk who had
been charged to compose the funeral sermon, in praise both of his life
and works and of his excellent moral qualities, mounted the pulpit and
delivered a discourse which was highly approved by the whole academy and
by the people. They struggled to enter the chapter, as well to see the
body of Benvenuto as to hear the commendation of his good qualities.
V.
BERNARD PALISSY.
Two or three of the girls had dabbled a little in painting on porcelain,
and several of them had become interested in various sorts of pottery.
Mabel had been at Newburyport, on a visit with some friends who had a
potter's wheel of their own; and she had turned for herself, and had had
baked, some vases and dishes which she had brought home with her.
This tempted them all to make a party, in which several of the boys
joined, to go to the Art Museum and see the exquisite pottery there, of
different sorts, ancient and modern. There they met one of the gentlemen
of a large firm of dealers in keramics; and he asked them to go through
their magnificent establishment, and see the collection, which is one of
great beauty. It shows several of the finest styles of manufacture in
very choice specimens.
This prepared them to see Japanese work. And when Uncle Fritz heard of
this, he asked Professor Morse, of Salem, if he would show them his
marvellous collection of Japanese pottery. Professor Morse lived in
Japan under very favorable auspices, and he made there a wonderful
collection of the work of the very best artists. So five or six of the
young people went down to Salem, at his very kind invitation, and saw
there what is one of the finest collections in the world.
All this interested them in what now receives a great deal of attention,
the manufacture and ornament of pottery. The word _keramics_ is a word
recently added to the English language to express the art of making
pottery and of ornamenting it.
When Uncle Fritz found that they really wanted to know about such
things, he arranged that for one afternoon they should read about
BERNARD PALISSY THE POTTER.
Bernard Palissy was born, about 1510, in the little town of Biron, in
Périgord, France. He became not only a great artist, but a learned
physician, and a writer of merit.
Born of poor parents of the working-class, he had to learn some trade,
and early applied himself to working glass, not as a glazier, but
staining it and cutting it up in little bits, to be joined together with
lead for the colored windows so much used in churches. This was purely
mechanical work; but Bernard's ambition led him to study drawing and
color, that he might himself design and execute, in glass, scenes from
the Bible and lives of the saints, such as he saw done by his superiors.
When he was old enough, curious to see the world and learn new things,
he took a journey on foot through several provinces of France, by
observation thus supplying the defects of his early education, and
reaping a rich harvest of facts and ideas, which developed the qualities
of his intelligence.
It was at this time that the Renaissance in Art was making itself felt
throughout Europe. Francis I. of France encouraged all forms of good
work by his patronage; and wherever he went the young Palissy was
animated and inspired by the sight of beautiful things.
_Faience_, an elegant kind of pottery, attracted his attention. This
appeared first in the fourteenth century. The Arabs had long known the
art of making tiles of clay, enamelled and richly ornamented. They
brought it into Spain, as is shown in the decorations of the Alhambra at
Seville and elsewhere. Lucca della Robbia in Italy first brought the art
to perfection, by making figures and groups of figures in high relief,
of baked clay covered with shining enamel, white, tinted with various
colors. The kind of work called _majolica_ differed from the earlier
faience by some changes in the material used for the enamel. In the
middle of the sixteenth century remarkable historical paintings were
executed in faience, upon huge _plaques_. All the cities of Italy vied
with each other in producing wonders in this sort of work; it is from
one of them, Faenza, that it takes its name. The method of making the
enamel was a deep secret; but Bernard Palissy, with long patience and
after many failures, succeeded in discovering it,--or, rather, in
inventing for himself a new method, which in some respects excelled the
old.
Palissy was the author of several essays, or "Discourses;" and from one
of these, written in quaint old French, we have his own account of his
invention.
He married and settled down in the year 1539 with a good income from his
intelligent industry. He had a pleasant little house in the country,
where, as he says, "I could rejoice in the sight of green hills, where
were feeding and gambolling lambs, sheep, and goats."
An incident, apparently slight, disturbed this placid domestic
happiness. He came across a cup of enamelled pottery, doubtless from
Italy. "This cup," he says, "was of such beauty, that, from the moment I
saw it, I entered into a dispute with myself as to how it could have
been made."
Enamel is nothing more than a kind of glaze colored with metallic acids,
and rendered opaque by the mixture of a certain quantity of tin. It is
usually spread upon metal, when only it is properly called enamel; but
this glaze can also be put upon earthenware. It makes vessels
water-tight, and gives them brilliancy of surface. To find out how to do
this was to make a revolution in the keramic art.
In France, in the sixteenth century, the only vessels, such as jugs or
vases, were made either of metal, wood, or coarse porous pottery,
through which water could penetrate; like the goulehs of the Arabs, or
the cantaras of the Moors, which are still used for fresh water to
advantage, since the evaporation of the drops keeps the water cold.
Many attempts had been made to imitate the beautiful and costly vases of
China; but no one succeeded until the potters of Italy found out how to
make faience. The discovery was hailed as a most valuable one. The
princes who owned the works guarded their secret with jealous care,--to
betray it would have been punished by death; so that Bernard Palissy had
no hope of being taught how it was done, even if he should go to the
places in Italy where the work was carried on.
"But," he says, "what others had found out, I might also discover; and
if I could once make myself master of the art of glazing, I felt sure I
could elevate pottery to a degree of perfection as yet unknown. What a
glory for my name, what a benefit to France, if I could establish this
industry here in my own land!"
He turned and turned the cup in his fingers, admiring the brilliant
surface. "Yes," he said at last; "it shall be so, for I choose! I have
already studied the subject. I will work still harder, and reach my aim
at last."
Exceptional determination of character was needed for such an object.
Palissy knew nothing about the component parts of enamels; he had never
even seen the process of baking clay, and he had to begin with the very
simplest investigations. To study the different kinds of earth and clay,
to acquire the arts of moulding and turning, and to gain some knowledge
of chemistry, all these were necessary. But he did not flinch, and
pursued his idea with indomitable perseverance.
"Moving only by chance," he says, "like a man groping in the dark, I
made a collection of all the different substances which seemed at all
likely to make enamel, and I pounded them up fine; then I bought earthen
pots, broke them into small bits, numbered these pieces, and spread over
each of them a different combination of materials. Now I had to have a
furnace in which to bake my experiments. I had no idea how furnaces were
usually made; so I invented one of my own, and set it up. But I had no
idea how much heat was required to melt enamels,--perhaps I heated my
furnace too much, perhaps not enough; sometimes my ingredients were all
burned up, sometimes they melted not at all; or else some were turned to
coal, while others remained undisturbed by the action of the fire."
Meanwhile the resources of the unlucky workman were fast diminishing;
for he had abandoned his usual work, by which he earned his living, and
kept making new furnaces, "with great expense and trouble, and a great
consumption of time and firewood."
This state of affairs much displeased his wife, who complained bitterly,
and tried to divert her husband from an occupation which earned for him
nothing but disappointment. The cheerful little household changed its
aspect; the children were no longer well-dressed, and the shabby
furniture and empty cupboards betrayed the decay which was falling upon
the family. The father saw with profound grief the wants of his
household; but success seemed ever so near to him, that he could not
bear to give it up. His hope at that time was but a mirage; and for long
afterwards, in this struggle between intelligence and the antagonism of
material things, ill fortune kept the upper hand.
One day, tired out by his failures, it occurred to him that a man
brought up to baking pottery would know how to bake his specimens better
than he could.
"I covered three or four hundred bits of broken vase with different
compounds, and sent them to a _fabrique_ about a mile and a half from my
house. The potters consented to put my patterns with their batch for the
oven. Full of impatience, I awaited the result of this experiment. I was
on hand when my specimens came out. I looked them anxiously all over;
not one was successful!
"The heat had not been strong enough, but I did not know this; I saw
only one more useless expense of money. One of the workmen came to me
and said, 'You will never make anything out of this; you had better go
back to your own business.'"
Palissy shook his head; he had still in his possession some few valuable
articles, souvenirs of happier days, which he could sell to renew his
experiments. In spite of the reproaches of his wife, he bought more
ingredients and more earthenware, and made new combinations.
Failure again! However, he would not be beaten. Some friends lent him a
little money; he sat up at night to make new mixtures of different
substances, all prepared with such care that he felt sure some of them
must be good. Then he carried them again to the potters, whom he urged
to the greatest care. They only shrugged their shoulders, and called him
"crack brain;" and when the batch was done, they brought the results to
Palissy with jeers. Some of the pieces were dirty white; others green,
red, or smoked by the fire; but all alike in being dull and worthless.
It was over. Discouragement took possession of Palissy. "I returned
home," he says, "full of confusion and sadness. Others might seek the
secret of enamels. I must set to work and earn money to pay my debts and
get bread for the family."
Most luckily for him at this time, a task was given him by government,
for which he was well suited, and which brought him good pay. The king,
Francis I., having had, like many another sovereign, some difficulty
with his faithful subjects in the matter of imposts, now found it
necessary to make a new regulation of taxes; and for this, among other
things, an inspection of the salt marshes on the coasts of France was
needed, in order to name the right sums for taxation, and a knowledge of
arithmetic was required as well. Palissy was appointed; and to the great
delight of his family, who thought that his mind would now be forever
diverted from the search for enamel, he set forth to explore the islands
and the shores of France. He drew admirable outlines of the forms of the
salt marshes, and wrote with eloquence upon the sublimity of the sea.
Ease and comfort came back. His task was ended; but debts were paid, and
plenty of money remained.
The first thing he saw on returning home, alas! was the cup,--his joy
and despair. "How beautiful it is! how brilliant!" he exclaimed; and
once more he threw himself into the pursuit of the elusive enamel.
It was easy to see that the so much admired faience of Italy was simply
common baked clay, covered with some substance glazed by heat, but so
composed as to adhere to the surface after it had cooled. But what
substance? He had tried all sorts of materials; why had none of them
melted? Palissy at length decided that the fault had been in using the
common potter's furnace. Since the materials were to be vitrified by the
process, they should be baked like glass. He broke up three dozen pots,
pounded up a great quantity of different ingredients, and spread them
with a brush on the fragments; then he carried them to the nearest
glass-works. He was allowed to superintend the baking himself; he put
the specimens in the oven, and passed the night attending the fire. In
the morning he took them out. "Oh, joy! Some of the compounds had begun
to melt; there was no perfect glaze, only a sign that I was on the right
road."
It was, however, still a long and weary one. After two more years,
Palissy was still far from the discovery of enamelling, but during this
time he was acquiring much knowledge. From a simple workman he had
become a learned chemist. He says himself, "The mistakes I made in
combining my enamels taught me more than the things which came right of
themselves."
There came a time, which he had once more resolved should be the last,
when he repaired to the glass-works, accompanied by a man loaded with
more than three hundred different patterns on bits of pottery. For four
hours Bernard gloomily watched the progress of baking. Suddenly he
started in surprise. Did his eyes deceive him? No! it was no illusion.
One of the pieces in the furnace was covered with a brilliant glazing,
white, polished, excellent. Palissy's joy was immense. "I thought I had
become a new creature," he says. "The enamel was found; France enriched
by a new discovery."
Palissy now hastened to undertake a whole vase. For many and large
pieces there was not room enough at his disposition in the ovens of the
glass-works. He did not worry about that, for he was quite sure he could
construct one of his own. He decided, too, at once to model and fashion
his own vases; for those which he bought of the potters, made of coarse
and heavy forms, no longer suited his ambition. He now designed forms,
turned and modelled them himself. Thus passed seven or eight months. At
last his vases were done, and he admired with pride the pure forms given
to the clay by his hands. But his money was giving out again, and his
furnace was not yet built. As he had nothing to pay for the work, he did
all the work himself,--went after bricks and brought them himself on his
back, and then built and plastered with his own hands. The neighbors
looked on in pity and ridicule. "Look," they said, "at Master Bernard!
He might live at his ease, and yet he makes a beast of burden of
himself!"
Palissy minded their sarcasms not at all. His furnace was finished in
good time, and the first baking of the clay succeeded perfectly. Now the
pottery was to be covered with his new enamel. Time pressed, for in a
few days there would be no more bread in the house for his children. For
a long time he had been living on credit, but now the butcher and baker
refused to furnish anything more. All about him he saw only unfriendly
faces; every one treated him as a fool. "Let him die of hunger," they
said, "since he will not listen to reason."
His wife was the worst of all. She failed to see any heroism in the
obstinacy or perseverance of her husband,--no wonder, perhaps, with the
sight of her suffering children before her eyes. She went about reciting
her misfortunes to all the neighborhood, very unwisely, as she thus
ruined the credit of her husband, his last and only resource.
Palissy was already worn out by so much manual labor, to which he was
little accustomed; nevertheless, he worked by night, and all night long,
to pound up and prepare the materials for his white enamel, and to
spread it upon his vases. A report went abroad, caused by the sight of
his lamp constantly burning, that he was trying to coin counterfeit
money. He was suspected, despised, and avoided, and went about the
streets hanging his head because he had no answer to make to his
accusers.
The moment which was to decide his life arrived. The vases were placed
in the furnace, and for six continuous days and nights he plied the
glowing fire with fuel. The heat was intolerable; but the enamel
resisted, nothing would melt, and he was forced to recognize that there
was too little of the glazing substance in the combination to vitrify
the others. He set to work to mix another compound, but his vases were
spoiled; he borrowed a few common ones from the pottery. During all this
delay he did not dare to let the fire go out, it would take so much wood
to start it again. Once more the newly covered pots were placed in the
intense furnace; in three or four hours the test would be completed.
Palissy perceived with terror that his fuel was giving out. He ran to
his garden, tore up fences, and cut down trees which he had planted
himself, and threw all these into the two yawning mouths of the furnace.
Not enough! He went into the house, and seized tables, chairs, and
bureaus; but the house was but poorly furnished, and contained but
little to feed the flames. Palissy returned. The rooms were empty, there
was absolutely nothing more to take; then he fell to pulling up the
planks of the floor. His wife, frightened to death, stood still and let
him go on. The neighbors ran in, at the sound of the axe, and said, "He
must be a fool!"
But soon pity changed to admiration. When Palissy took the vases from
the furnace, the common pots which all had seen before dull and coarse,
were of a clear pearly white, covered with brilliant polish.