fantastic and the real (Fig. 253). The principal tendencies peculiar to
the character of the northern mind are always to be found in them. The
thoughts of the artist are always transporting him into a world of
abstraction and chimeras; but the ever-present consciousness of the
difficulties of life under the cold northern sky always draws him back
to the details of existence. On the one hand, therefore, he seems to
love philosophical, and even supernatural subjects; but, on the other,
the minute details of his execution bind him down to earth. His models,
his action, his positions, the muscular development of his nude
subjects, the innumerable folds of his draperies, the expression which
he gives to joy, grief, and hatred, all seem to bear a manifest
character of exaggeration. Added to this, he is deficient in grace; a
rudeness entirely northern in its character closes the path to any of
the softer qualities of art. The panels of Albert Dürer all seem to have
a touch of the antique barbarism of the Germanic hordes. He himself was
in the habit of wearing his hair long, like the ancient German kings.
Upon the whole, however, his beautiful colouring, the skilful firmness
of his drawing, his grand characteristics, his depth of thought, the
poetry, often terrible, of his composition, place him in the first rank
of masters” (Michiels).
While Albert Dürer was endeavouring to combine in his works every type
of the strangest character, Lucas van Cranach made it his study
[Illustration: Fig. 253.--“Jesus Crowned with Thorns,” painted on Wood
by Albert Dürer; a Fac-simile traced from the original of the same size.
(In the Collection of M. de Quedeville.)]
to represent with no less success pleasant legends or the most charming
realities. He is the painter of artless youths, aerially veiled, and of
sportive and enchanting virgins; and if some antique scene is created by
his delicate and original pencil, it seem, to be metamorphosed by a
happy facility into something that appears to have the character of a
German reminiscence (Fig. 254).
[Illustration: Fig. 254.--“Princess Sibylla of Saxony,” by Lucas van
Cranach. (Suermondt Collection.)]
Between these two masters, so equally endowed with power in their
respective lines of art, the great Holbein takes his place, as if
embodying the rather abrupt vigour of the one, and the sentimental
delicacy of the other. This painter’s artistic career was carried out
almost entirely in England, but the character of his genius belongs
unquestionably to the country where he left behind him his “Dance of
Death,” a piece of tragic raillery justly held to be the most wonderful
among all the creations of fancy.
Albert Dürer, who died in 1528, and Lucas van Cranach, and Holbein, who
died in 1553,[38] were destined to create a race of painters, and a host
of successors were soon at work. But the movement, which was impeded by
troubles of a religious character, died away in the terrible convulsions
of the Thirty Years’ War, and was never again renewed.
The era in which German art seemed all at once to decline was that
wherein the Italian school flourished in full splendour, and exercised
an unrivalled influence over every European country occupied by the
Latin races. France yielded all the more readily to this foreign
influence, because the Papal court at Avignon had already given an
asylum to Giotto in the first place, and afterwards to Simon Memmi; both
of whom, and especially the last, have left master-like traces of their
presence on French soil.
As a matter of fact, although French painting, regarded in the light of
a national art, cannot boast of having spontaneously produced, as a
thing of home-growth, any of those essays of complete independence of
which Germany and Italy are so proud; the memorials of French art at
least bear witness that, during the long reign of Byzantine tradition,
it never ceased to struggle with some force under the yoke; at a time,
indeed, when Italy and Germany themselves seemed, on the contrary, to
bear the burden with the most submissive servitude.
The tenth century, in becoming subject to the influence of a foolish but
heartfelt terror (the fear of the end of the world), marked a period of
fatal obstruction to every kind of effort, and progress died away; but
if we look beyond this we shall perceive that, from the earliest days of
the monarchy, painting was held in honour, and painters themselves
afforded proofs of power, if not of genius. We shall, for instance, find
that the basilica of St. Germain-des-Prés, built by Childebert I., had
its walls decorated with “elegant paintings.” We shall find Gondebaud,
the son of Clotaire, himself handling the pencil and “painting the
walls and roofs of oratories.” In the reign of Charlemagne, we discover
the texts which the bishops and priests were compelled to paint on “the
whole interior surface” of their churches, in order that the charm of
the colouring and of the compositions might aid the fervour of faith in
the congregations. But all this is but evidence recorded in the pages of
the ancient chronicles. We have other testimony derived from works still
existing, on which a judgment may be practically passed. Some frescoes
discovered at St. Savin, in the department of Vienne, and at
Nohant-Vicq, in the department of Indre, which must be attributed to the
eleventh and twelfth centuries, attest, in all their rude simplicity,
the efforts of a thoughtful art, and specially bear the stamp of a true
spirit of independence.
The Sainte-Chapelle, in Paris, by its painted windows and the mural
paintings of its crypt, asserts the real vitality of an artistic
feeling, which only waited for the signal of a bolder spirit to rise to
loftier things. Moreover, if other examples are wanting, there are
manuscripts, on the ornamentation of which the most skilful painters
have concentrated their powers, that would suffice to point out the
tendencies and artistic standard of every succeeding age. (See the
article on MINIATURE-PAINTING.) However little we may consult history,
we scarcely ever fail to discover traces of certain groups of artists
whose names or works have survived. Thus, a series of paintings
preserved in the Cathedral of Amiens, as well as the “Sacre de Louis
XII.” and the “Vierge au Froment,” in the museum at Cluny, prove to us
the existence, at the end of the fifteenth century, of the school of
Picardy, which possessed skill in composition, combined with a feeling
for colour and a certain knowledge of handling. Thus, too, the
researches of the learned have traced out the laborious career of the
Clouet family, sung by Ronsard and others, but whose works are almost
entirely lost; thus, also, we find the names of Bourdichon, Perréal,
Foucquet, who worked for Louis XI. and Charles VIII., and that of the
peaceful King René of Provence, who thought it not beneath his dignity
to make himself the practical chief of a school whose nameless
productions are still scattered over the south of France.
With the sixteenth century commenced the age of the great Italian
painters. In 1515, Francis I. persuaded Leonardo da Vinci to come to
France, and to afford the example of his wonderful genius. But the
illustrious creator of “La Gioconda” (the famous portrait of Mona
Lisa), burthened with years and worn out with work, visited France as if
only to draw his last breath (1519). Andrea del Sarto, the graceful
pupil of the severe Michael Angelo, came to France in 1517; but, after
having painted for his royal protector a few pictures, among which was
the magnificent “Charity” in the Louvre, he again repaired to the
Italian soil, to which his unhappy marriage recalled him to his doom.
In 1520 Raphael died, at the age of only thirty-seven years. Giulio
Pippi (called _Giulio Romano_), Francis Penni (called _il Fattore_), and
Perino del Vaga, whom he named as his heirs and charged with the
completion of his unfinished works, did their best to replace the
illustrious dead. For a short time it might have been thought that the
inspiration of the master still remained with his pupils; but soon a
separation of this group of artists, who had found their principal power
in unity of thought, took place; and, fifteen or twenty years after the
tomb had closed on Raphael, the tradition of his school was nothing more
than a glorious ruin.
Michael Angelo, who died in 1563, was destined to have a longer career;
but it was only to become a witness of the rapid decadence of the great
movement he had helped to call forth. After Daniele di Volterra, the
painter of the “Descent from the Cross,” which is classed among the
three most beautiful works that Rome possesses; after Vasari, who
possessed a double title to celebrity as a skilful painter and the
historian of the Italian schools; after Rosso, whose renown subsequently
suffered at the court of France; and Bronzino, who sought success in
taste and delicacy; the school of the great Buonarotti produced nothing
but works which seemed to wander from exaggeration to bad taste. The
dwarfs who attempted to walk in the footsteps of the giant were soon
exhausted, and only succeeded in rendering themselves ridiculous.
The Venetian school, the great masters of which did not become extinct
before the end of the sixteenth century, had its period of decadence at
a later epoch; this will not come under our consideration. The Lombard
school, which, by the deaths of Correggio and Parmigianino, had been
left without its chiefs before the middle of this century (1534 and
1540), seemed for a moment as if it would disappear as it had risen. But
in Michael Angelo Caravaggio (Fig. 255) it met with a powerful master,
who was able for some time to arrest the progress of its decadence.
[Illustration: Fig. 255.--“The Tribute Money.” Picture by Caravaggio
(Sixteenth Century), in the Florence Gallery.]
We have as yet done little more than hint at the presence of Rosso, or
_Maître Roux_, at the court of France. He came in 1530, at the
invitation of Francis I., to decorate the Palace of Fontainebleau. “His
engraved work,” says M. Michiels, “shows him to be a feeble and
pretentious man, devoid both of taste and inspiration, who exhibited
laboured refinement in the place of vigour, mistaking want of proportion
for grandeur, and absence of truth for originality. Being nominated by
the king as Canon of the Sainte-Chapelle, he had as his assistants
Leonard, a Fleming, the Frenchmen Michel Samson and Louis Dubreuil, and
the Italians Lucca Penni, Bartolommeo Miniati, &c. But in 1531,
Primaticcio arrived from Mantua, and a contest arose henceforth between
them.... Le Rosso having ended his days by suicide, Primaticcio remained
master of the field. His most talented pupil decorated under his
direction the magnificent ball-room. Primaticcio painted with less
exaggeration and more delicacy and elegance than Rosso; but still he
formed one of that troop of awkward and affected copyists who
exaggerated the errors of Caravaggio.... His empire of forty years’
duration, in the midst of a foreign population, was, however, an
undisturbed one. Henry II., Francis II., Charles IX., and Catherine de
Medicis, showed him no less favour than Francis I. He died in 1570,
loaded with honours and riches.
“The number of French artists who allowed themselves to be influenced by
the Italian method was considerable. At last a man of more vigorous
character arose who would not permit false taste to rule him, and
adopted all the improvements of modern art, without following in the
footsteps of court favourites. His talents inaugurated a new period in
the history of French painting. We are speaking of Jean Cousin, who was
born at Soucy, about 1530; he adorned with his compositions both glass
and canvas, and was, in addition, a skilful sculptor. His famous picture
of the “Last Judgment,” in the Louvre, suggests a high opinion of him.
The colouring is harsh and monotonous, but the drawing of the figures
and the arrangement of the piece prove that he had the habit of thought
and also of reckoning on his own powers and of seeking out novel
dispositions, producing effects hitherto unknown.”
The beautiful composition we introduce here (Fig. 256) is taken from M.
A. Firmin Didot’s “Notice sur Jean Cousin,” in which a large number of
other subjects are reproduced; some of them may have been
[Illustration: Fig. 256.--Composition by Jean Cousin. First Sketch of
his “Last Judgment,” from a Wood-Engraving in the Romance of “Gérard
d’Euphrate.” Paris, 1549. (Cabinet of M. A. F. Didot.)]
engraved by the painter himself. Like Albert Dürer and Holbein, Jean
Cousin did not disdain to apply his talents to the ornamentation of
books.
Jean Cousin is generally looked upon as the real chief of the French
school. After him, and by his side, we must place the Janets,[39] who
although of Flemish origin, are actually French in their style and the
character of their pictures. The most celebrated of them, François
Clouet, portrayed, with a realism full of elegance and distinction, the
nobles and beautiful ladies of the court of Valois.
[Illustration: Fig. 257.--Sketch of the Virgin of Alba. Chalk-drawing by
Raphael.]
We should here close our remarks, were it not that we might be accused
of an important omission in this review of the principal schools. For
nothing has been said of the Bolognese school, whose origin, though not
its maturity, belongs to the epoch we have made our study. But the
material circumstances we now mention must be our justification:
although the school of Bologna gave signs of its existence in the
thirteenth century, and under the impulse of Guido, Ventura, and Ursone,
showed itself to be industrious, active, and numerous; and also in the
fourteenth century, under that of Jacopo d’Avanzo and Lippodi Dalmasio;
yet it died away, reviving only at the commencement of the sixteenth
century, again to become extinct after the death of the poetic
Raibolini, called _Francia_, without having produced any of those great
individualities to whose glory alone we are compelled to devote our
attention.
We must, however, confess that this school, which suddenly retrieved its
position at a time when all other schools were in a state of complete
decadence, found three illustrious chiefs instead of one, and acquired
the singular glory of resuscitating, by a kind of potent eclecticism,
the _ensemble_ of the noblest traditions. But it was not till the latter
part of the sixteenth century that Bologna witnessed the opening by the
Carracci of that studio whence were destined to proceed Guido, Albano,
Domenichino, Guercino, Caravaggio, Pietro of Cortona and Luca
Giordano--a magnificent phalanx of men who, by their own works and the
force of their example, were to become the honour of an age into which
it does not form a portion of our task to follow them.
[Illustration]
ENGRAVING.
Origin of Wood-Engraving.--The St. Christopher of 1423.--“The
Virgin and Child Jesus.”--The earliest Masters of
Wood-Engraving.--Bernard Milnet.--Engraving in _Camaïeu_.--Origin
of Engraving on Metal.--The “Pax” of Maso Finiguerra.--The earliest
Engravers on Metal.--Niello Work.--_Le Maître_ of 1466.--_Le
Maître_ of 1486.--Martin Schöngauer, Israel van Mecken, Wenceslaus
of Olmutz, Albert Dürer, Marc Antonio, Lucas van Leyden.--Jean
Duret and the French School.--The Dutch School.--The Masters of
Engraving.
Almost all authors who have devoted themselves to investigate this
subject have asserted, but doubtless very erroneously, that engraving on
metal was naturally derived from engraving on wood. Nevertheless, any
one who gives but a slight consideration to the difference existing
between the two processes must be led to the belief that the two arts
must result from two distinct inventions. In wood-engraving, the
impression is, in fact, formed by the portions of the block which are in
relief; while in engraving on metal, the incised strokes give the lines
of the print. Now, no one who has any knowledge of professional matters
can for a moment doubt that, in spite of the similar appearance of the
productions, there is a radical difference in the starting-points and
modes of execution of these two methods.
We certainly must consider it probable that the appearance of prints
produced by wood-engraving may have suggested the idea of seeking to
obtain a similar or better result by some other process; but that a
process should be assimilated, as if by affiliation, to another
diametrically opposed to it is a view we do not feel called upon to
accept without reservation.
Be this as it may, certain authors look upon wood-engraving as having
been invented in Germany at the commencement of the fifteenth century.
Others have derived it from China, where it was in use in the year 1000
of our era. Others, again, propound the opinion that the art of printing
stuffs by means of engraved blocks was employed in different parts of
Asia, to which it had been imported from ancient Egypt, at a period long
before it was first thought of in Europe. These hypotheses being
admitted, the whole question reduces itself into an inquiry as to the
way in which the art made its entrance into Western Europe in the first
half of the fifteenth century; this being the earliest date at which we
find engravings made in Germany, France, and the Low Countries.
[Illustration: Fig. 258.--“The Virgin and Infant Jesus.” Fac-simile of a
Wood-Engraving of the Fifteenth Century. (Bibl. Imp., Paris.)]
The most ancient _dated_ impression known of a cut engraved on wood is a
St. Christopher, without either mark or name of its author, bearing a
Latin inscription and the date of 1423. This specimen is so roughly
engraved, and in drawing is so faulty, that it is only natural to assume
it must be one of the earliest attempts at wood-engraving. There is,
however, an engraving in the Imperial Library, Paris, representing the
Virgin holding the Child Jesus seated in her arms (Fig. 258), which may
perhaps be considered an earlier specimen than the St. Christopher. The
back of the niche is a kind of mosaic, formed of diamond-shaped
quadrilaterals; the _aureolæ_ and ornaments of the niche are coloured a
yellowish brown. There is, however, one singularity in this engraving
which testifies to its great antiquity; it is printed on paper made of
cotton, and is unsized, and the impression sinks so deeply into it that
it may be seen nearly as well on the back of the print as on the front.
We must not omit to mention another engraving, preserved in the Royal
Library, Brussels; this is also a “Virgin with the Child Jesus,”
surrounded by four saints (Fig. 259). It is a composition of a somewhat
grand style, and does not agree very well with the date, MCCCCXVIII.,
which is seen at the foot of the print.
We must, doubtless, attribute to nearly the same time some specimens of
playing-cards,--these we have already mentioned when dealing specially
with this subject; and also a series of figures of the Twelve Apostles
with Latin legends, underneath which are the same number of phrases in
French, or rather in the ancient dialect of Picardy, reproducing the
whole text of the Decalogue; one of these xylographic plates may be seen
in the chapter on “PRINTING.” In these engravings each figure is
standing up, clothed in a long tunic, and covered with a wide mantle;
the ink, so to speak, is bistre, and the mantles are coloured, red and
green alternately. The Apostles all bear the symbolical sign which
distinguishes them, and are surrounded with a long fillet, whereon is
traced in Latin the sentence of the Creed attributed to each, and one of
the ten Commandments. St. Peter, for instance, has for his motto this
French sentence, “Gardeis Dieu le roy moult sain;” St. Andrew, “Ne
jurets point son nome en vain;” St. John, “Père et Mère tosjours
honoras;” St. James the Greater, “Les fiestes et dymeng, garderas,” &c.
There are other engravings belonging to the middle of the fifteenth
century which make known the fact that the art of engraving was
practised by several artists in France; and that without doing any
injustice
[Illustration: Fig. 259.--“The Virgin and Child.” A Wood-Engraving of
the Fifteenth Century(?). (Bibl. Roy., Brussels.)]
to Germany we can attribute several anonymous works to French masters.
But we must in any case claim the very characteristic works of an
engraver named Bernard Milnet. In the engravings of this master there
are neither lines nor cross-hatching; the ground of the print is black;
the lights are
[Illustration: Fig. 260.--“St. Catherine on her Knees.” Fac-simile of an
Engraving on Wood, by Bernard Milnet, called the “Master with the dotted
backgrounds.” (Bibl. Imp., Paris.)]
formed by an infinite number of white dots varying in size according to
the requirement and taste of the artist. This engraver does not appear
to have had any imitators; and, to tell the truth, his mode of operation
must have presented many difficulties in execution. There are only six
known specimens of his work--a “Virgin with the Child Jesus,” “St.
Catherine Kneeling” (Fig. 260), the “Scourging of Christ,” a group of
“St. John, St. Paul, and St. Veronica,” a “St. George,” and a “St.
Bernard.”
Although engravings of this time are now extremely rare, it does not
necessarily follow that they were equally scarce at the dates when they
were executed. M. Michiels, in his “Histoire de la Peinture en Flandre,”
says that, “according to ancient custom, on feast-days the Lazarists,
and others belonging to religious orders who were accustomed to nurse
the sick, carried in the streets a large wax candle ornamented with
mouldings and glass-trinkets, and distributed to the children
wood-engravings illuminated with brilliant colours, and representing
sacred subjects. There must, therefore, have been a considerable number
of these engravings.”
In the sixteenth century wood-engraving, improved by the pupils of
Albert Dürer, and especially by John Burgkmair (Fig. 261), was very
extensively developed; and the art was then practised with a superiority
of style which left far behind the timid attempts of the preceding
century.
The works of most of the wood-engravers of this period are anonymous;
nevertheless, the names of a few of these artists have survived. But it
is only by an error that, in the nomenclature of the latter, certain
painters and designers, such as Albert Dürer, Lucas van Leyden, and
Lucas van Cranach, have long been made to figure. There are
wood-engravings which do actually bear the signatures or monograms of
these masters; but the fact is, that the latter were often in the habit
of drawing their designs on the wood, as is frequently the practice with
artists in our own day; and the engraver (or rather the _formschneider_,
form-cutter, to employ the usual expression), in reproducing the
composition drawn with a pencil or pen, has copied also the signature
which the designer of the subject added. An error often committed by
writers may be thus easily set right.
We must not quit the subject of wood-engraving without mentioning
engraving in _camaïeu_; a process of Italian origin, in which three or
four blocks, applying in succession to the print uniform tints of more
or less intense tones, ultimately produced engravings of a very
remarkable effect, imitating drawings with the stump or the pencil. At
the commencement of the sixteenth century several artists distinguished
themselves in this
[Illustration: Fig. 261.--The Archdukes and High Barons of Germany
assisting, in State Costume, at the Coronation of the Emperor
Maximilian. A fragment taken from a large collection of Engravings,
entitled the “Triumph of Maximilian I.,” by J. Burgkmair. (Sixteenth
Century.)]