was of the Virgin walking in the springtime, before the leaves had
appeared upon the trees, and with snow-capped mountains behind
her. She holds the infant Jesus in her arms while she reads from a
small book, and the little child looks upon the page with her. This
six inches of beauty sold to the Emperor of Russia, in 1871, for sixty
thousand dollars.
Before Raphael was twenty-one, he had left his master's studio and had
gone into the splendid world of Rome, where Angelo was straining at
his bonds. But how differently each accepted his life! The gentle
Raphael, who took the best of the ideas of all great painters, and
gave to them his own exquisite characteristics, was beloved of all,
shed light upon art and friends alike. To such a one all life was
joyous. Michael Angelo, trying ever to do the impossible, betraying
his hatred of limitations in all that he did, doing always that which
aroused horror, distress, longing, elemental feelings, in those who
studied his wonderful work, and giving hope and satisfaction and peace
to none--to such as he life must ever have been hateful and
painful. These men lived at the same time, among the same people.
One of Raphael's greatest pictures came into the possession of a poor
widow, who being hard pressed by poverty, sold it to a bookseller for
twelve scudi. In time it was bought from the bookseller by Grand Duke
Ferdinand III. of Tuscany, who prayed before it night and morning,
taking it with him on his travels. That picture is now in the Pitti
Palace at Florence and it is called the "Madonna del Granduca." The
Berlin Museum purchased a Raphael Madonna for $34,000 which was
painted about the same time as these others, but after a little the
artist left Florence where he had been studying the methods of
Leonardo and Angelo and returned to Urbino, the home he loved, where
his conduct was such that all the world seems to have become his
lover. It is written that he was "the only very distinguished man of
whom we read, who lived and died without an enemy or detractor!" No
better can ever be said of any one.
While he dwelt in Perugia and Urbino he had painted the "Ansidei
Madonna," so called because that was the name of the family for which
it was painted. That Madonna was sold in 1884 to the National Gallery,
by the Duke of Marlborough for $350,000. A Madonna on a round
plaque-like canvas, 42-3/4 inches in diameter, was bought by the Duke
of Bridgewater for $60,000. It is the "Holy Family under a Palm Tree,"
painted originally for a friend, Taddeo Taddei, who was a Florentine
scholar. Many of the pictures which after many vicissitudes have
landed far from home and been bought for fabulous sums were painted
for love of some friend, or were paid for by modest sums at the time
the artist received the commissions. Lord Ellesmere in London now owns
the "Holy Family under a Palm Tree."
It is said of Raphael that whenever another painter, known to him or
not, requested any design or assistance of any kind at his hands, he
would invariably leave his work to perform the service. He continually
kept a large number of artists employed, all of whom he assisted and
instructed with an affection which was rather that of a father to his
children than merely of an artist to artists. From this it followed
that he was never seen to go to court, except surrounded and
accompanied, as he left his house, by some fifty painters, all men of
ability and distinction, who attended him, thus to give evidence of
the honour in which they held him. He did not, in short, live the life
of a painter, but that of a prince.
There is something wonderfully inspiring about such a life. We read of
emperors and the homage paid to them; of the esteem in which men who
accomplish deeds of universal value are held, but nowhere do we behold
the power of a beautiful and exquisite personality and character,
allied with a single art, so impressively exhibited.
He urged nothing, yet won all things by the force of his loving and
sympathetic mind. "How is it, dear Cesare that we live in such good
friendship, but that in the art of painting we show no deference to
each other?" he asked of Cesare da Sesto, who was Da Vinci's greatest
pupil.
In discussing the great ones of the earth, Herman Grimm, son of the
collector of fairy tales, says: "Can we mention a violent act of
Raphael's, Goethe's or Shakespeare's? No, it is restful only to recall
these wonderful men."
One of Raphael's most beautiful Virgins was modeled from a beautiful
flower-girl whom he loved, "La Belle Jardinière."
Raphael as well as Michael Angelo was summoned by Pope Julius II., but
how different were the two occasions! Michael Angelo had stood with
dogged, gloomy self-assertiveness before the pope, head covered, knee
unbent. Uncompromising, while yet no injury had been done him,
resentful before he had received a single cause for resentment, the
attitude was typical of his art and his unhappy life.
When Raphael appeared, his bent knee, his "chestnut locks falling upon
his shoulders, the pope exclaimed: 'He is an innocent angel. I will
give him Cardinal Bembo for a teacher, and he shall fill my walls with
historical pictures.'" The artist's behaviour was no sign of
servility, but the simple recognition of forms and customs which the
people themselves had made and by which they had decided they should
graciously be bound. The attitude of Angelo was not heroic but vulgar;
that of Raphael not servile, but in good taste, showing a reasonable
mind.
Pope Julius had summoned Raphael for a special reason. Alexander VI.,
his predecessor in the Vatican, had been a depraved man. The fair and
virile Julius had a healthy sentiment against occupying rooms which
must continually remind him of the notorious Alexander's mode of
life. Some one suggested that he have all the portraits of the former
pope removed, but Julius declared: "Even if the portraits were
destroyed, the walls themselves would remind me of that Simoniac, that
Jew!" The word 'Jew' was then execrated by all Christians, for the
world was not yet Christian enough to know better.
Raphael was summoned to decorate the Vatican, that Julius might have a
place which reminded him not at all of Alexander. It is said that when
Raphael had completed one of his masterpieces the pope threw himself
upon the ground and cried, "I thank Thee, God, that Thou hast sent me
so great a painter!"
While at work upon his first fresco at the Vatican--"La Disputa," the
dispute over the Holy Sacrament--Raphael met a woman with whom he fell
deeply in love. Her father was a soda manufacturer and her name was
Margherita. Missirini relates this incident in Raphael's career.
"She lived on the other side of the Tiber. A small house, No. 20, in
the street of Santa Dorothea, the windows of which are decorated with
a pretty frame work of earthenware, is pointed out as the house where
she was born.
"The beautiful girl was very frequently in a little garden adjoining
the house, where, the wall not being very high, it was easy to see her
from the outside. So the young men, especially artists--always
passionate admirers of beauty--did not fail to come and look at her,
by climbing up above the wall.
"Raphael is said to have seen her for the first time as she was
bathing her pretty feet in a little fountain in the garden. Struck by
her perfect beauty, he fell deeply in love with her, and after having
made acquaintance with her, and discovered that her mind was as
beautiful as her body, he became so much attached as to be unable to
live without her."
She is spoken of to-day as the "Fornarina," because at first she was
supposed to have been the daughter of a baker (_fornajo_).
Raphael made many rough studies for his picture "La Disputa," and upon
them he left three sonnets, written to the woman so dear to him. These
sonnets have been translated by the librarian of l'Ecole Nationale des
Beaux-Arts, as follows: "Love, thou hast bound me with the light of
two eyes which torment me, with a face like snow and roses, with sweet
words and tender manners. So great is my ardour that no river or sea
could extinguish my fire. But I do not complain, for my ardour makes
me happy.... How sweet was the chain, how light the yoke of her white
arms about my neck. When these bonds were loosed, I felt a mortal
grief. I will say no more; a great joy kills, and, though my thoughts
turn to thee, I will keep silence."
Although he had been a man of many loves, Raphael must have found in
the manufacturer's daughter his best love, because he remained
faithful and devoted to her for the twelve years of life that were
left to him. It was said some years later, while he was engaged upon a
commission for a rich banker, that "Raphael was so much occupied with
the love that he bore to the lady of his choice that he could not give
sufficient attention to his work. Agostino (the banker) therefore,
falling at length into despair of seeing it finished, made so many
efforts by means of friends and by his own care that after much
difficulty he at length prevailed on the lady to take up her abode in
his house, where she was accordingly installed, in apartments near
those which Raphael was painting; In this manner the work was
ultimately brought to a conclusion."
Raphael painted this beautiful lady-love many times, and in a picture
in which she wears a bracelet he has placed his name upon the
ornament.
After this time he painted the "Madonna della Casa d'Alba," which the
Duchess d'Alba gave to her physician for curing her of a grave
disorder. She died soon afterward, and the physician was arrested on
the charge of having poisoned her. In course of time the picture was
purchased for $70,000 by the Russian Emperor, and it is now in "The
Hermitage," St. Petersburg.
A writer telling of that time, relates the following anecdote:
"Raphael of Urbino had painted for Agostino Chigi (the rich banker
already mentioned) at Santa Maria della Pace, some prophets and
sibyls, on which he had received an advance of five hundred scudi. One
day he demanded of Agostino's cashier (Giulio Borghesi) the remainder
of the sum at which he estimated his work. The cashier, being
astounded at this demand, and thinking that the sum already paid was
sufficient, did not reply. 'Cause the work to be estimated by a judge
of painting,' replied Raphael, 'and you will see how moderate my
demand is.'
"Giulio Borghesi thought of Michael Angelo for this valuation, and
begged him to go to the church and estimate the figures of
Raphael. Possibly he imagined that self-love, rivalry, and jealousy
would lead the Florentine to lower the price of the pictures.
"Michael Angelo went, accompanied by the cashier, to Santa Maria della
Pace, and, as he was contemplating the fresco without uttering a word,
Borghesi questioned him. 'That head,' replied Michael Angelo, pointing
to one of the sibyls, 'that head is worth a hundred scudi.' ... 'and
the others?' asked the cashier. 'The others are not less.'
"Someone who witnessed this scene related it to Chigi. He heard every
particular and, offering in addition to the five hundred scudi for
five heads a hundred scudi to be paid for each of the others, he said
to his cashier, 'go and give that to Raphael in payment for his heads,
and behave very politely to him, so that he may be satisfied; for if
he insists on my paying also for the drapery, we should probably be
ruined!'"
By the time Raphael was thirty-one he was a rich man, and had built
himself a beautiful house near the Vatican, on the Via di Borgo
Nuova. Naught remains of that dwelling except an angle of the right
basement, which has been made a part of the Accoramboni Palace. His
friends wished him above all things to marry, but he was still true to
Margherita though he had become engaged to the daughter of his
nephew. He put the marriage off year after year, till finally the lady
he was to have married died, and was buried in Raphael's chapel in the
Pantheon.
Margherita was with him when he died, and it was to her that he left
much of his wealth.
In the time of Raphael excavations were being made about Rome, and
many beautiful statues uncovered, and he was charged with the
supervision of this work in order that no art treasure should be lost
or overlooked. The pope decreed that if the excavators failed to
acquaint Raphael with every stone and tablet that should he unearthed,
they should be fined from one to three hundred gold crowns.
Raphael had his many paintings copied under his own eye and engraved,
and then distributed broadcast, so that not only men of great wealth
but the common people might study them.
Henry VIII. invited him to visit England, and become court painter,
and Francis I. wished him to become the court painter of France.
He loved history, and wished to write certain historical works. He
loved poetry and wrote it. He loved philosophy and lived it--the
philosophy of generous feeling and kindly thought for all the
world. He kept poor artists in his own home and provided for them.
Raphael died on Good Friday night, April 6th, in his thirty-seventh
year, and all Rome wept. He lay in state in his beautiful home, with
his unfinished picture of the "Transfiguration," as background for his
catafalque. That painting with its colours still wet, was carried in
the procession to his burial place in the Pantheon. When his death was
announced, the pope, Leo X., wept and cried _"Ora pro nobis!"_ while
the Ambassador from Mantua wrote home that "nothing is talked of here
but the loss of the man who at the close of his six-and-thirtieth year
has now ended his first life; his second, that of his posthumous fame,
independent of death and transitory things, through his works, and in
what the learned will write in his praise, must continue forever."
Raphael painted two hundred and eighty-seven pictures in his
thirty-seven years of life.
PLATE--THE SISTINE MADONNA
It is said that the "Sistine Madonna," while painted from an Italian
model--doubtless the lady whom Raphael so dearly loved--has universal
characteristics, so that she may "be understood by everyone."
He lived only three years after painting this picture and it was the
last "Holy Family" painted by him. The Madonna stands upon a curve of
the earth, which is scarcely to be seen, and looming mistily in front
of her is a mass of white vaporous clouds. On either side are figures,
St. Sixtus (for whom the picture was named) and St. Barbara. Beside
St. Sixtus we see a crown or tiara; and the little tower at
St. Barbara's side is a part of her story.
Barbara was the daughter of an Eastern nobleman who feared that her
great beauty might lead to her being carried off; therefore he caused
her to be shut up in a great tower. While thus imprisoned Barbara
became a Christian through the influence of a holy man, and she begged
her father to make three windows in her gloomy tower: one, to let the
light of the Father stream upon her, another to admit the light of the
Son, and the third that she might bathe in the light of the Holy
Ghost. Both St. Barbara and St. Sixtus were martyrs for their faith.
This Madonna is painted as if enclosed by green velvet curtains, which
have been drawn aside, letting the golden light of the picture blaze
upon the one who looks; then upon a little ledge below, looking out
from the heavens, are two little cherubs--known to all the world. They
look wistful, wise, roguish, and beautiful, with fat little arms
resting comfortably upon the ledge. Raphael is said to have found his
models for these little angels in the street, leaning wistfully upon
the ledge of a baker's window, looking at the good things to eat,
which were within. Raphael took them, put wings to them, placed them
at the feet of Mary, and made two little images which have brought
smiles and tears to a multitude of people. The "Sistine Madonna" hangs
alone in a room in the Dresden Gallery.
Among Raphael's greatest works are: The "Madonna della Sedia" (of the
chair), "La Belle Jardinière," "The School of Athens," "Saint Cecilia,"
"The Transfiguration," "Death of Ananias" (a cartoon for a series of
tapestries), "Madonna del Pesce," "La Disputa," "The Marriage of Mary
and Joseph," "St. George Slaying the Dragon," "St. Michael Attacking
Satan" and the "Coronation of the Virgin."
XXXIII
REMBRANDT (VAN RIJN)
_Dutch School_
1606-1669
_Pupil of Van Swanenburch_
Here are a few of the titles that have been given to the greatest
Dutch painter that ever lived: The Shakespeare of Painting; the Prince
of Etchers; the King of Shadows; the Painter of Painters. Muther calls
him a "hero from cloudland," and not only does he alone wear these
titles of greatness, but he alone in his family had the name of
Rembrandt.
One writer has said that the great painter was born "in a windmill,"
but this is not true. He was born in Leyden for certain, though not a
great deal is known about his youth; and his father was a miller, his
mother a baker's daughter.
When the Pilgrim Fathers, who had sought safety in Leyden, were
starting for America, where they were going to oppress others as they
had been oppressed, Rembrandt was just beginning his apprenticeship in
art.
He was born at No. 3, Weddesteg, a house on the rampart looking out
upon the Rhine whose two arms meet there. In front of it whirled the
great arms of his father's windmill, though he was not born in it; and
of all the women Rembrandt ever knew, it is not likely that he ever
admired or loved one as passionately as he admired and loved his
mother. He painted and etched her again and again, with a touch so
tender that his deepest emotion is placed before us.
Rembrandt had brothers and sisters--five: Adriaen, Gerrit, Machteld,
Cornelis, and Willem. Of these, Adriaen became a miller like his
father, and presumably the old historic windmill fell to him; Willem
became a baker, but Rembrandt, the fourth child, it was determined
should be a learned man, and belong to one of the honoured
professions, such as the law. So he was sent to the Leyden Academy,
but here again we have an artist who decided he knew enough of all
else but art before he was twelve years old. He found himself at that
age in the studio of his first art-master, Jacob van Swanenburch, a
relative, who had studied art in Italy, and was a good master for the
lad; but Rembrandt became so brilliant a painter in three years' time,
that he was sent to Amsterdam to learn of abler men.
The lad could not in those days get far from his adored mother; so he
stayed only a little time, before he went back to Leyden where she
was. There was his heart, and, painting or no painting, he must be
near it.
Until the past thirty years no one has seemed to know a great deal of
Rembrandt's early history, but much was written of him as a boorish,
gross, vulgar fellow. Those stories were false. He was a devoted son,
handsome, studious in art, and earnest in all that he did, and after
he had made his first notable painting he was compelled by the demands
of his work to move to Amsterdam for good. He hired an apartment over
a shop on the Quay Bloemgracht; it is probable that his sister went
with him to keep his house, and that it is her face repeated so
frequently in the many pictures which he painted at that time. This
does not suggest coarse doings or a careless life, but permits us to
imagine a quiet, sober, unselfish existence for the young bachelor at
that time.
Soon, however, he fell in love. He saw one other woman to place in his
heart and memory beside his mother. His wife was Saskia van Ulenburg,
the daughter of an aristocrat, refined and rich. He met her through
her cousin, an art dealer, who had ordered Rembrandt to paint a
portrait of his dainty cousin. Rembrandt could have been nothing but
what was delightful and good, since he was loved by so charming a girl
as Saskia.
He painted her sitting upon his knee, and used her as model in many
pictures. First, last, and always he loved her tenderly.
In one portrait she is dressed in "red and gold-embroidered velvets";
the mantle she wore he had brought from Leyden. In another picture she
is at her toilet, having her hair arranged; again she is painted in a
great red velvet hat, and then as a Jewish bride, wearing pearls, and
holding a shepherd's staff in her hand. Again, Rembrandt painted
himself as a giant at the feet of a dainty woman, and in every way his
work showed his love for her. After he married her, in June 1634, he
painted the picture, "Samson's Wedding," "Saskia, dainty and serene,
sitting like a princess in a circle of her relatives, he himself
appearing as a crude plebeian, whose strange jokes frighten more than
they amuse the distinguished company. ... The early years of his
marriage were spent in joy and revelry. Surrounded by calculating
business men who kept a tight grasp on their money bags, he assumed
the rôle of an artist scattering money with a free hand; surrounded by
small townsmen most proper in demeanour, he revealed himself as the
bold lasquenet, frightening them by his cavalier manners. He brought
together all manner of Oriental arms, ancient fabrics, and gleaming
jewellery; and his house became one of the sights of Amsterdam." His
existence reads like a fairy tale.
It is said that Saskia strutted about decked in gold and diamonds,
till her relatives "shook their heads" in alarm and amazement at such
wild goings on.
Before he married Saskia he had painted a remarkable picture, named
the "School of Anatomy." It represents a great anatomist, the friend
of Rembrandt--Nicholaus Tulp,--and a group of physicians who were
members of the Guild of Surgeons of Amsterdam. It is so wonderful a
picture that even the dead man, who is being used as a subject by the
anatomist, does not too greatly disturb us as we look upon him. The
thoughtful, interested faces of the surgeons are so strong that we
half lose ourselves in their feeling, and forget to start in repulsion
at sight of the dead body. A fine description of this painting can be
found in Sarah K. Bolton's book "Famous Artists" and it includes the
description given by another excellent authority.
The artist was twenty-six years old when he painted the "School of
Anatomy." This picture is now at The Hague and two hundred years after
it was painted the Dutch Government gave 30,000 florins for it.
Rembrandt painted a good many "Samsons" first and last--himself
evidently being the strong man; and the pictures beyond doubt express
his own mood and his idea of his relation to things. After a little
son was born to the artist, he painted still another Samson--this time
menacing his father-in-law but as the artist had named his son after
his father-in-law,--Rombertus--we cannot believe that there was any
menace in the heart of Rembrandt--Samson. Soon his son died, and
Rembrandt thought he should never again know happiness, or that the
world could hold a greater grief, but one day he was to learn
otherwise. A little girl was born to the artist, named Cornelia, after
Rembrandt's mother, and he was again very happy.
Meantime his brothers and sisters had died, and there came some
trouble over Rembrandt's inheritance, but what angered him most of
all, was that Saskia's relatives said she "had squandered her heritage
in ornaments and ostentation." This made Rembrandt wild with rage, and
he sued her slanderers, for he himself had done the squandering,
buying every beautiful thing he could find or pay for, to deck Saskia
in, and he meant to go on doing so.
At this time he painted a picture of "The Feast of Ahasuerus" (or the
"Wedding of Samson") and he placed Saskia in the middle of the table
to represent Esther or Delilah as the case might be, dressed in a way
to horrify her critical relatives, for she looked like a veritable
princess laden with gorgeous jewels.
One of his pictures he wished to have hung in a strong light, for he
said: "Pictures are not made to be smelt. The odour of the colours is
unhealthy."
The first baby girl died and on the birth of another daughter she too
was named Cornelia, but that baby girl also died, and next came a son,
Titus, named for Saskia's sister, Titia, and then Saskia died. Thus
Rembrandt knew the deepest sorrow of his life.
He painted her portrait once again from memory, and that picture is
quite unlike the others for it is no longer full of glowing life, but
daintier, suggestive of a more spiritual life, as if she were growing
fragile.