_Albert Durer and the Arts and Crafts of Nuremberg. (Michel
Wolgemut, Peter Vischer, Veit Stoss, Adam Krafft, etc.)_
"Wie friedsam treuer Sitten
Ertrost in that und Werk
Liegt nicht in Deutschlands Mitten
Mein liebes Nüremberg."
--WAGNER, _Die Meistersinger_.
"Here, when Art was still Religion, with a simple, reverent hart,
Lived and laboured Albrecht Dürer, the evangelist of Art;
Hence in silence and in sorrow, toiling still with busy hand,
Like an emigrant he wandered, seeking for the Better Land.
Emigravit is the inscription on the tomb-stone where he lies;
Dead he is not--but departed,--for the artist never dies."
--LONGFELLOW.
At Nuremberg, as elsewhere, in the Middle Ages, every trade formed a
close corporation, the rules and ordinances of which were subject to the
Council alone. These unions, besides enjoying a monopoly of their
particular trade, aimed at producing good work after their kind, and at
"living together peacefully and amicably, according to the Christian law
of brotherly love." Wages and prices were fixed, the relations of
masters and subordinates were regulated by the corporations. Equality as
well as fraternity was aimed at. Each master was allowed only a certain
number of apprentices and workmen, who might not work at night, on
Sundays, or on Feast days. Occasionally, in the case of artists whose
work was in very great repute and demand, the Council relaxed this rule.
By special privilege Adam Krafft was allowed to increase his
establishment of workers. The trade-corporations paid great attention to
the quality of the goods produced. They were always anxious that only
products which were "in the eyes of all good, irreproachable, and
without flaw," should be delivered. To guarantee their quality and
soundness goods were carefully inspected before being put on sale: shoes
or works of art, bread or beef--all alike came under the eye of
inspectors appointed by the respective associations. Punishment for
infringement of the rules was severe. Two men were burnt alive at
Nuremberg in 1456 for having sold adulterated wine.
The modern publican would doubtless be surprised at such treatment.
The youth who was destined for a certain trade had to be apprenticed to
some master of that trade, "who," say the rules of the time, "must
maintain his apprentice night and day in his house, give him bread and
attention (and in some cases even clothes), and keep him under lock and
key." The master, who was responsible for his apprentice's work, had
also to teach him his trade, and to see that he was brought up in the
fear of God, and that he attended church. When the apprenticeship
(Lehrjahre) expired the young worker set out on his travels
(Wanderjahre) for one, three, or even five years, visiting foreign
countries, and learning all he could of his trade. Then he returned and
occupied himself, whilst working for a master, in endeavouring to
produce a piece of work--his masterpiece--which should entitle him to be
admitted to the rank of master.
[Illustration: ALBERT DURER'S HOUSE]
That this system had faults, economically, is undeniable. That it
produced good work and engendered in the craftsmen a personal interest
and pride in their work, is equally certain. Among the craftsmen of
Nuremberg in her golden age were Albert Durer, Peter Vischer, Adam
Krafft, Veit Stoss, and a host of others eminent in their line. It was
under the conditions we have sketched that they learned and laboured.
* * * * *
Among the most treasured of Nuremberg's relics is the low-ceilinged,
gabled house near the Thiergärtnerthor, in which _Albert Durer_ lived
and died, in the street now called after his name. The works of art
which he presented to the town, or with which he adorned its churches,
have unfortunately, with but few exceptions, been sold to the stranger.
It is in Vienna and Munich, in Dresden and Berlin, in Florence, in
Prague, or the British Museum, that we find splendid collections of
Durer's works. Not at Nuremberg. But here at any rate we can see the
house in which he toiled--no genius ever took more pains--and the
surroundings which impressed his mind and influenced his inspiration.
If, in the past, Nuremberg has been only too anxious to turn his works
into cash, to-day she guards Albert Durer's house with a care and
reverence little short of religious. She has sold, in the days of her
poverty and foolishness, the master's pictures and drawings, which are
his own best monument; but she has set up a noble monument to his memory
(by Rauch, 1840) in the Durer Platz, and his house is opened to the
public (on payment of 50 pfennige) between the hours of 8 A.M. and 1
P.M., and 2 and 6 P.M. on week days. The Albert-Durer-Haus Society has
done admirable work in restoring and preserving the house in its
original state with the aid of Professor Wanderer's architectural and
antiquarian skill. Reproductions of Durer's works are also kept here.
The most superficial acquaintance with Durer's drawings will have
prepared us for the sight of his simple, unpretentious house and its
contents. In his "Birth of the Virgin" he gives us a picture of the
German home of his day, where there were few superfluous knick-knacks,
but everything which served for daily use was well and strongly made and
of good design. Ceilings, windows, doors and door-handles, chests,
locks, candlesticks, banisters, waterpots, the very cooking utensils,
all betray the fine taste and skilled labour, the personal interest of
the man who made them. So in Durer's house, as it is preserved to-day,
we can still see and admire the careful simplicity of domestic
furniture, which distinguishes that in the "Birth of the Virgin." The
carved coffers, the solid tables, the spacious window-seats, the
well-fitting cabinets let into the walls, the carefully wrought
metal-work we see there are not luxurious; their merit is quite other
than that. In workmanship as in design, how utterly do they put to shame
the contents of the ordinary "luxuriously furnished apartments" of the
present day! _Simplex munditiis_ is the note struck here.
The artists of those days gave themselves no airs: they were content to
regard themselves merely as successful workmen. The same hands that
carved the most splendid cathedral stalls were ready to lavish equal
care on the most insignificant domestic utensil: whilst the simplest
artisan was filled with the ambition to turn out work truly artistic. He
aimed at perfection, sharing in his master's toil and triumphs, and
hoping, no doubt, to produce some day a masterpiece himself.
And what manner of man was he who lived in this house that nestles
beneath the ancient castle? In the first place a singularly loveable
man, a man of sweet and gentle spirit, whose life was one of high ideals
and noble endeavour.[41] In the second place an artist who, both for his
achievements and for his influence on art, stands in the very front rank
of artists, and of German artists is _facile princeps_. At whatever
point we may study Durer and his works we are never conscious of
disappointment. As painter, as author, as engraver or simple citizen,
the more we know of him the more we are morally and intellectually
satisfied. Fortunately, through his letters and writings, his journals
and autobiographical memoirs we know a good deal about his personal
history and education.
Durer's grandfather came of a farmer race in the village of Eytas in
Hungary. Durer, it has been plausibly suggested, is a Nuremberg
rendering of the Hungarian word Ajtó = door = Eytas. The Open Door,
Azure, in his canting coat of arms seems to confirm this. The
grandfather turned goldsmith, and his eldest son, Albrecht Durer the
elder, came to Nuremberg in 1455 and settled in the Burgstrasse (No.
27). He became one of the leading goldsmiths of the town: married and
had eighteen children, of whom only three, boys, grew up. Albrecht, or
as we call him Albert Durer, was the eldest of these. He was born May
21, 1471, in his father's house, and Anthoni Koberger, the printer and
bookseller, the Stein of those days, stood godfather to him. The
maintenance of so large a family involved the father, skilful artist as
he was, in unremitting toil.
"My dear father," writes Durer, "passed his life in the midst of
great toil, and difficult and arduous labour, having only what he
earned by his handiwork to support himself, his wife and his
family. His possessions were few and in his life he experienced
many tribulations, struggles and reverses of all sorts: but all who
knew him had a good word to say of him, for he clung to the conduct
of a good and honourable Christian. He was a patient and gentle
man, at peace with all men and full of gratitude to God."
The portrait he has left of his father (at Munich) corresponds exactly
to the character he has thus described. It is the trustful, strenuous
face of a worn but strong old man, who seems to accept without regret,
in the glad possession of a conscience free from all reproach, a life
deprived of all comfort and worldly pleasure. He took great pains to
bring up his children in the way they should go.
"My father took much trouble over our education. He brought us up
to the glory of God: his chief desire was to keep his children
under severe discipline, so that they might be acceptable to God
and to man. Every day he urged us to love God and to show a sincere
affection for our neighbours." Of his mother, Albert Durer writes,
"It was her constant custom to go much to church. She never failed
to reprove me every time that I did wrong. She kept us, my brothers
and me, with great care from all sin, and on my coming in or my
going out, it was her habit to say 'Christ bless thee.' I cannot
praise enough her good works, the kindness and charity she showed
to all, nor can I speak enough of the good fame that was hers."
His father, who was delighted with Albert's industry, took him from
school as soon as he had learned to read and write and apprenticed him
to a goldsmith. "But my taste drew me towards painting rather than
towards goldsmithry. I explained this to my father, but he was not
satisfied, for he regretted the time I had lost."
[Illustration: ALBERT DURER AS A BOY.
FROM A DRAWING BY HIMSELF AT THE AGE OF THIRTEEN]
Benvenuto Cellini has told us how his father, in like fashion, was eager
that he should practise the "accursed art" of music. Durer's father,
however, soon gave in and in 1486 apprenticed the boy to Michel
Wolgemut. That extraordinarily beautiful, and, for a boy of that age,
marvellously executed portrait of himself at the age of thirteen (now at
Vienna) must have shown the father something of the power that lay
undeveloped in his son. So "it was arranged that I should serve him for
three years. During that time God gave me great industry so that I
learnt many things; but I had to suffer much at the hands of the other
apprentices."
* * * * *
Painting was already in vogue at Nuremberg in the fourteenth century,
but it was never much encouraged. One of the reasons may perhaps have
been that there was little opportunity for fresco painting here, as in
Italy; for the Gothic style of architecture offers no large surfaces
that seem to demand the relief of colour and drawing. Painting was
regarded at first merely as an assistant of architecture, glass-blowing
and sculpture, for the purposes of decoration and ornament, and painters
therefore always continued to be treated as mere artisans of one craft
or another. "Here I am a master," writes Durer from Italy, "at home a
Parasite." But, however regarded, the art of painting had attained to
the dignity of a separate existence when, in the fourteenth century, it
was called in to supply the place of sculpture and to furnish
altar-pieces and memorial pictures attached to monuments. These latter,
"epitaphs," are highly characteristic of northern art, and no better
examples of them are to be found than in the great churches of
Nuremberg. Many of them, in their original positions, can be seen in the
Churches of St. Lorenz and St. Sebald, executed for the great burgher
families--Imhoffs, Tuchers, Holzschuhers, etc.--on the death of one of
their number. An early example is that of Paul Stromer (1406) in St.
Lorenzkirche.
The oldest Nuremberg picture is said to be an altarpiece in St.
Jakobskirche. A great advance on this awkward work is the celebrated
Imhoff'sche Altar-piece in the Lorenzkirche (1418-22). Of the same
period, but more full of colour and movement, are the pictures of the
Deokarus Altar in the same church, of the Altar of the Sacristy in St.
Jakobskirche, and notably of the Tuchersche Altar in the Frauenkirche
(1440). The figures in this picture are more severe and also more
vigorous than the graceful, soft, full figures of the Imhoff'sche
Altar-piece.
The names of the painters of these works are unknown. Berthold, who was
commissioned by the Council in 1423 to paint the interior of the
Rathaus, is the only early painter of note whose name has survived. To
him some of the earliest epitaphs are safely to be attributed.
So far no outside influence had affected the work of the Nuremberg
painters. They were content to supply their pictures with plain gold
backgrounds and to subordinate the composition of them to the
requirements of the folding divisions of the altar-pieces, carved in
stone or wood. The grouping is therefore often crowded and the drawing
and arrangement of the limbs and figures frequently approaches the
grotesque. But presently, and probably through the agency of Martin
Schongauer, the famous engraver and painter of Colmar, the influence of
the Flemish School began to make itself felt. The introduction of
landscape backgrounds and a great improvement in drawing and composition
are noticeable, and may be traced in the Löffelholz Altar-piece in St.
Sebald's (1453). In these respects and in the smooth and brilliant
colouring, not quite perfectly harmonised, _Michel Wolgemut's_
(1434-1519) earliest works show the influence of the Flemish School in
full vigour. It was in 1473 that he married the widow of Hans
Pleydenwurf, a painter of some reputation, and in his house, beneath the
old Castle, proceeded to carry on the firm of Wolgemut and Pleydenwurf.
From this workshop all the principal paintings of that period would seem
to have issued. It is extremely difficult to determine how far the
pictures that have hitherto passed under the name of Michel Wolgemut are
really his. The master has certainly failed as a rule to stamp his own
personality on his works. This is no doubt due in great part to the fact
that he left much of each picture to be done by his pupils and
assistants. The "firm" took a frankly business view of their handiwork.
The amount of personal attention Michel Wolgemut gave to a picture
probably varied with the price paid for it. It is unfortunate that Durer
in many cases followed the same custom. He found that his careful and
elaborate style of painting was simply beggaring him, and he frequently
therefore allowed his paintings to be finished by his assistants.
Some common characteristics of the Pleydenwurf-Wolgemut School soon
impress themselves on us as we study their works in the German Museum,
or the Churches of St. Lorenz, St. Sebald, St. John, and St. Jakob. The
drapery is stiffly drawn but the colouring remarkably clear and
brilliant. The modelling of the limbs, not founded on Durer's close
studies of the nude, still leaves much to be desired. The female type is
at first sight graceful, but on closer acquaintance we find it soulless
and unsatisfying. The prominent cheekbones, straight noses, mild
expression of almond-shaped eyes, thin lips and lifeless mouths produce
an impression very different from that caused by the almost painful
intensity of Durer's portraits. As the fifteenth century draws to a
close an increasing severity of design and hardness of expression
becomes noticeable. It is not altogether fanciful, I think, to attribute
this in part to the stern independent spirit of the Reformation and in
part to the prevalence of engraving. For Wolgemut, with Wilhelm
Pleydenwurf, paid much attention to woodcarving,[42] and aided doubtless
by their youthful apprentice, Albert Durer, illustrated the
_Schatzbehalter_ (1491) and the _Hartmann-Schedel Chronicle_ (1493),
published by Koberger. The influence of this style of work is perhaps
traceable in the flatness and severe modelling of the hands, feet, and
faces, and in the stiff movement of the figures in Wolgemut's pictures.
Wolgemut is seen to best advantage in his single figures of saints, as
in his Peringsdörffer masterpiece, from the Augustinerkirche, now in the
German Museum, the only painting of importance known to have been
produced in his studio during Durer's apprenticeship. But even in his
best pieces we see little more than the fine feeling of a skilful
workman. We look in vain for inspiration, in vain for imagination, we
listen in vain for any echo from that world of Perfect Beauty which
Durer and the greatest artists have known in part and striven to
express. And yet, somehow, his best works do appeal to us and stir our
hearts. What the secret of that appeal may be is a question which will
doubtless find various answers. _Quot homines tot sententiæ._ For me it
is that Wolgemut speaks in the naïve, straightforward tones of the
Middle Ages, and decks the actors of the Sacred Story in the clothes and
colours of his own time and his own surroundings. The atmosphere of his
pictures is laden with subtle associations. If there was no note of
poetry in Wolgemut, still, round the landscapes in his pictures, there
hovers a tone like the echo of some old folk-song that has been sung and
yet lingers in the air.
* * * * *
_Albert Durer_ always entertained the highest respect for his master,
and in 1516 painted the immortal portrait of him in his eighty-second
year, now in Munich.
When in 1490 his apprenticeship was completed Durer set out on his
Wanderjahre, to learn what he could of men and things, and, more
especially, of his own trade. Martin Schongauer was dead, but under that
master's brothers Durer studied and helped to support himself by his art
at Colmar and at Basle. Various wood-blocks executed by him at the
latter place are preserved there. Whether he also visited Venice now or
not is a moot point. Here or elsewhere, at any rate, he came under the
influence of the Bellini, of Mantegna, and more particularly of Jacopo
dei Barbari--the painter and engraver to whom he owed the incentive to
study the proportions of the human body--a study which henceforth became
the most absorbing interest of his life.
"I was four years absent from Nuremberg," he records, "and then my
father recalled me.... After my return Hans Frey came to an
understanding with my father. He gave me his daughter Agnes and with her
200 florins, and we were married." Durer, who writes so lovingly of his
parents, never mentions his wife with any affection: a fact which to
some extent confirms her reputation as a Xantippe. She, too, in her way,
it is suggested, practised the art of _cross-hatching_. Pirkheimer,
writing after the artist's death, says that by her avariciousness and
quarrelling nature she brought him to the grave before his day. She was
probably a woman of a practical and prosaic turn, to whom the dreamy,
poetic, imaginative nature of the artist-student, her husband, was
intolerably irritating. Yet as we look at his portraits of himself--and
no man except Rembrandt has painted himself so often--it is difficult to
understand how anyone could have been angry with Albert Durer. Never did
the face of man bear a more sweet, benign, and trustful expression. In
those portraits we see something of the beauty, of the strength, of the
weakness of the man so beloved in his generation. His fondness for fine
clothes and his legitimate pride in his personal beauty reveal
themselves in the rich vestments he wears and the wealth of silken
curls, so carefully waved, so wondrously painted, falling proudly over
his free neck. Joachim Camerarius, the first rector of the Melanchthon
Gymnasium in Nuremberg, tells a pleasant story of how the aged Giovanni
Bellini once asked Durer to present him with one of the brushes with
which he drew hairs.
"Durer immediately produced several ordinary brushes such as
Bellini himself used, and begged him to take the best, or all if he
would. Bellini said 'No, I don't mean these. I mean the ones with
which you draw several hairs with one stroke. They must be more
spread out and more divided; otherwise in a long sweep such
regularity of curvature and distance could not be preserved.' 'I
use no other than these,' Albrecht replies, 'and, to prove it, you
may watch me.' Then taking up one of the same brushes, he drew some
very long, wavy tresses, such as women generally wear, in the most
regular order and symmetry. Bellini looked on wondering, and
afterwards admitted that no human being could have convinced him by
report of the truth of that which he had seen with his own eyes."
"Nature had given him a body," says the same writer, "noble in
build and structure, consonant with the beautiful mind it
contained. His head was expressive, the eyes flashing, the nose
nobly formed, and what the Greeks called [Greek: tetragônon]
(Roman). His neck was long, and his chest broad; his thighs
muscular, and legs powerful."
And most noteworthy of all are his exquisitely beautiful hands and
fingers, which strike us equally in the portrait of the boy of thirteen,
and in the Munich portrait which forms our frontispiece. No one who
studies the latter picture can fail to notice how closely the
countenance of Durer approaches the ideal type of Jesus Christ in art.
The artist, indeed, was conscious of this himself, for his own
representations of Christ bear a resemblance to his own features.
On his marriage Durer did not proceed to live in the house of his
parents-in-law as was customary, but, for some reason, took up his abode
in his father's house. It was his ambition to excel as a painter, but it
is as an engraver that he won his hold on the world--and still retains
it. Copperplate engraving had been practised as early as the first
quarter of the fifteenth century. It had been developed out of the
goldsmith's art, and perfected by the masters E. S. and Martin
Schongauer. There was a great demand for engravings. Accordingly, with a
view to earning the much needed money for his family, Durer at first
devoted himself to this art. We can trace clearly enough the progress of
the artist as he endeavoured to produce not merely the simple
representation of a subject, but by the aid of landscape backgrounds, a
picture, an artistic whole on the copper. For this purpose he turned to
account his early studies of Nuremberg scenery and his charming drawings
of Nuremberg, the Pegnitz, and the houses to which he was ever devoted.
Piracy of his works soon followed on and proved his popularity. Literary
piracy, it will be seen, if not yet respectable, is at any rate of some
antiquity. Meantime he was busy painting the portraits of members of
patrician families, of his father, of himself. For these we must not
seek in Nuremberg, but an example of his painting at this period
(_circa_ 1500), is to be found in the Pietà, now in the German Museum.
In painting, it was Durer's rule to deal only with sacred subjects or
portraits. The much damaged and inferior work, "Hercules with the
Stymphalian Birds," in the same museum forms an interesting exception to
this rule. But in his engravings Durer did not confine himself to any
one subject: sacred and secular history, mythology, animals, satire,
humour, architecture, land and water scapes, portraits, all formed
material for his receptive and strenuous mind. His humour may be studied
in his designs for Maximilian's "Book of Hours," and there, too, his
mordant satire lashes the faults of vain women and the _gaucheries_ of
proud and foolish peasants.
We have already had occasion to refer to the circle in which Durer moved
in these days; but special mention should here be made of Willibald
Pirkheimer, his great friend and patron, the most generous Mæcenas of
sciences and art in Nuremberg. Scholar and statesman, writer, orator,
and soldier, his house and splendid library in the Herrenmarkt was the
centre of intellectual activity in Germany, and the chief meeting-place
of the Humanists. Maximilian I., Conrad Celtes, Eobanus Hesse, Luther
and Melanchthon, and especially Ulrich von Hutten and Durer were among
his most favoured and frequent guests. He was a constant correspondent
[Illustration: ST. ANTHONY, FROM THE ENGRAVING BY ALBERT DURER.
BACKGROUND OF NUREMBERG SCENERY]
also of Reuchlin and Erasmus. A martyr to gout, he was naturally
choleric, but he had the humour to write a poem in praise of gout. His
quick temper and vehement opinions led to his quarrelling in time with
every friend except the gentle Durer. Coarse and caustic was his wit:
and it is only under his influence that Durer ever shows these
qualities. Pirkheimer was, in fact, a great man, a very great man, in
his day; but he lives now through his friendship with Durer, and through
the portrait, that marvellous engraving so full of character, which
Durer published in 1524.
Besides copper-engraving and painting Durer also turned his attention to
wood-engraving, and by his admirable work and designs began to give it
its place among the pictorial arts. One of his earliest woodcuts is
entitled _The Men's Bath_. It represents a group of nude male figures in
one of those open-air public baths in the Pegnitz, which are still used
in Nuremberg, and of which an old writer says: "A solicitude
particularly attentive to the needs of the working classes and to the
health and well-being of artisans, servants and the poor, has
established baths in the towns and villages: it is a habit very
praiseworthy and profitable to the health to take a bath at least once a
fortnight." There were a dozen such public baths at Nuremberg, often
visited by Durer no doubt in his pursuit of the study of the nude. He
continued to pour forth works drawn from mythology and church history,
until in 1498 he produced that "great trumpet-call of the Reformation,"
the famous series of wood-cut illustrations to the _Apocalypse_. In this
series, so full of artistic skill and imagination, Durer not only
reveals to us the aspirations of his own mind, but he also expresses the
thoughts and emotions of the age in which he lived. The Apocalypse, in
which under the veil of religious symbolism are made to appear the
terrible judgments of the Lord and the peace of his saints, was followed
by that sweet and tender poem, _The Life of Mary_, and by the _Great_
and the _Little Passion_, two sublime tragedies that leave nothing to be
desired in truth of expression and vigour of design. Durer put his whole
soul into these religious works--the same deeply penitent, simply
trusting soul which he reveals to us in his prayers, his diaries, and
his books. How real his subjects were to him, how homely his religion,
is indicated by the inevitable manner in which he transfers the scenes
of Holy Writ to the ordinary surroundings of his daily life in
Nuremberg. Deeply imbued with the religious spirit, he tells this
pictorial history of the Christian faith as one to whom it was indeed a
living reality and a very intimate part of his life.
But before this immortal series was finished various important events
occurred in the life of the artist. In 1502 his father died.
"O all you who are my friends," writes Albert, in words that remind
us of St. Augustine, "I pray you for the love of God, when you read
the account of my good father's death, remember his soul, and say
for him a _Pater_ and an _Ave_. Do so too for your own salvation,
that we may all obtain the grace of truly serving God, and that it
may be granted to us to lead a holy life and to make a good end.
No, it is not possible that he who has lived a good life should
leave this world with regret or fear, for God is full of mercy."
In the following year were produced the tender _Virgin and Child_, and
in 1504 the _Adam and Eve_, in which the fruits of his study of the nude
were given to the world in ideal figures of man before the Fall. Next
year another break occurred in Durer's career. Whether, as Vasari says,
to secure himself against the piracy of his engravings, or merely in
search of fresh knowledge, towards which "his lofty mind was ever
striving," Durer paid another visit to Venice in 1505. Here he painted
for the German colony, as an altar-piece in the Church of St.
Bartolommeo, the _Madonna del Rosario_, now at Prague. This picture
contains portraits of Maximilian, Julius II., Durer, Pirkheimer, and
several German merchants. So great was the admiration roused by it that
the Doge visited the artist and endeavours were made to induce him to
live permanently in Venice. But in 1507, in spite of all temptations, he
returned to his native town and proceeded to execute many commissions.
In 1508 he obtained an injunction from the Council to prevent the
fraudulent copying of his prints. In the same year a Nuremberg worthy,
Matthäus Landauer, added a chapel to the almshouses (Zwölfbrüderhaus or
Landauerkloster) he had founded in 1501. The chapel was dedicated to All
Saints, and Durer was invited to paint an altar-piece for it,
representing "The Adoration of the Trinity by all Saints." The result,
the Allerheiligenbild, is one of the artist's noblest and most famous
compositions, but it too has left Nuremberg. For in 1585 the Rat sold it
to Emperor Rudolph II., replacing it by a copy for which they retained
the original frame.
In 1509 Durer bought the Durer-haus and took his aged mother to live
with him there. He also bought his father's house in the Burgstrasse off
his brother. This in itself shows that the stories of his poverty have
been much exaggerated. On his death he left 6858 gulden--a very good
fortune in those days. His connection with Maximilian, to which we have
already referred,[43] no doubt brought him something, though he had
difficulty in procuring the payment of the pension allowed him by the
Emperor. The Council, in 1510, at last gave a sign that they were aware
of the presence of a great artist in their city by ordering Durer to
paint the portraits of Charlemagne and Sigismund, to be displayed at the
festival when the Imperial insignia and sacred relics--many of which
were introduced into the pictures--were shown to the people. These
portraits, into the former of which Durer introduced the features of
Stabius, Maximilian's poet-laureate, are now in the German Museum, much
restored and over-daubed with repaintings.
The illness and death of his mother in 1514 caused Albert Durer very
great grief. Most touching is his description of that event.
"Just a year after she had fallen ill, my mother died in a
Christian manner, after having received full absolution. Before
dying she gave me her blessing, and with many pious words invoked
upon me the peace of God, recommending me above all to keep myself
from all sin. She had much fear of death, but, she said, she had no
fear of appearing before the Lord. She suffered when she died, and
I observed that she saw before her something which terrified her,
for she asked for holy water, although she had not uttered a word
for a long time. At last her eyes grew fixed and I saw Death deal
her two great blows to the heart. Then she closed her eyes and
mouth and died suffering. I betook myself to reciting prayers at
her side, and experienced such paroxysms of anguish as I cannot
express to you. May God have mercy on my mother! It was always her
greatest joy to speak to us of God, and she saw with gladness
everything that could increase the glory of the Lord. She was
sixty-three years of age when she died, and I had her interred
honourably according to my means. May our Lord give me grace to die
a holy death even as she died! May God with all the heavenly host,
my father, my mother, my relatives and my friends, be present at my
end! May God Almighty grant us the life everlasting! Amen. And
after my mother was dead her face became more beautiful than it had
been during her life."
Sorrow is the source of most great works of art. In his sorrow Durer
produced his three most famous, best-wrought engravings, works full of
imagination and of thought, works in which, expressed in exquisite
draughtsmanship, lies his whole philosophy. Through _St. Jerome in his
Library_, _The Knight_, _Death and the Devil_, and _Melencolia_, Durer
has more than elsewhere revealed himself to us and shown us his outlook
upon things, his manner of regarding the world, his criticism of life.
On the death of Maximilian Durer travelled to the Court of Charles V. in
order to get his pension confirmed. He succeeded in his object, and,
after travelling through the Netherlands, where he was accorded a great
reception, he returned to Nuremberg in 1521, having refused the pressing
invitation of the Council of Antwerp that he should take up his
residence in their city. When he returned he received another commission
from the Rat--to design decorative paintings for the great hall of the
Council-house. But Durer's health was broken and his prolific
imagination was flagging. He seems to have taken little interest in this
commission. He chose the time-worn subject of the _Calumny_ of Apelles
for one design, and used his unfinished sketch of Maximilian's
_Triumphal Car_ for the other. The painting was carried out by Georg
Pencz and others of his pupils. Durer's last great imaginative effort
was the painting of the Four Preachers, two large upright panels with
figures of St. Peter and St. John on the one, and St. Mark and St. Paul
on the other. These, as his final message to his native town, he
presented in 1526 to his _gunstigen und gnädigen Herren_, the Council of
Nuremberg.
Painter, designer, engraver, mathematician, Durer was also an author.
The year before he died, he published his "Instructions how to Use the
Compass" and "Instructions how to Fortify Towns, Castles, and Villages,"
and after his death appeared the four books of his life-long work on
"The Human Proportions."
His life had been passed in a strenuous endeavour to perfect his art:
he died amid a universal chorus of regret, on April 6th, 1528. His grave
is in St. John's Churchyard (No. 649). A plain bronze plate on the
headstone bears his well-known monogram and the following inscription:--
ME(ister) AL(brecht) DU(rer)
QUICQUID ALBERTI DVRERI MORTALE
FUIT, SVB HOC CONDITUR TUMULO.
EMIGRAVIT, VIII, IDUS APRILE,
M., D. XXVIII.
"I can truthfully say," wrote Durer to the Council, "that in the thirty
years I have stayed at home, I have not received from people in this
town work worth 500 gulden--truly an absurd and trifling sum--and not a
fifth part of that has been profit." After his death his fellow-citizens
became more fully alive to the value of his works, and the worthy
shopkeepers began those transactions which gradually stripped Nuremberg
of almost all the master's drawings and paintings. I borrow the
following account from Mr Lionel Cust's excellent monograph on "The
Paintings and Drawings of Albert Durer":--
"The greater part of his drawings, which were made for his own use,
appear to have passed into the possession of his life-long friend,
Pirkheimer, perhaps handed over by Durer's widow to redeem the many
financial obligations under which Durer lay to his friend. The
sketch-books used by Durer in the Netherlands seem to have passed
into the possession of the Pfinzing family, and were dispersed by
their next owner. At Pirkheimer's death the whole of his
collections, including the paintings and drawings by Durer, became
the property of the Imhoff family, the bankers and usurers of
Nuremberg. The Imhoffs, as befits a good, steady, money-making
firm, seem to have regarded Durer's works as a marketable
commodity. At the end of the sixteenth century, when the Emperor
Rudolph II. was forming his great collection of works of art and
curiosities, the Imhoffs, knowing his intense admiration for the
works of Durer, pressed upon him the collection of paintings and
drawings which they possessed. The Town Council of Nuremberg seem
to have followed suit with the paintings which were immediately
under their control, if not actually in their possession. In a
short time Rudolph became possessed of the bulk of Durer's
paintings and drawings at Prague or Vienna. Several of the
paintings remain in the Imperial collection to this day, and a
large portion of the drawings now forms the nucleus of what is
known as the 'Albertina' collection at Vienna. Another portion of
the Imhoff collection found its way through a collector in the
Netherlands, perhaps through one of the Austrian governors, into
that of Sir Hans Sloane, and is now in the print-room at the
British Museum. These two collections, together with the great
collection, which official industry and acumen have brought
together at Berlin, are the best field for the study of Durer's
work as a draughtsman, although in some of the smaller public or
private collections some of the most remarkable examples are to be
found.
"The good citizens of Nuremberg continued their work of converting
Durer's works into hard cash whenever the opportunity occurred. In
1585 the Town Council persuaded or compelled the governors of the
Landauer almshouses to sell to the Emperor Rudolph their great
painting of _All Saints_, replacing it by a copy which, by way of
carrying out the deception, was inserted in the original frame
designed by Durer. The _Adam and Eve_ also appear to have passed
into the same Imperial hands. In 1627 the Council sold to the
Elector Maximilian of Bavaria the two great panels of the _Four
Preachers_, Durer's last gift to his native town, and replaced them
by copies. The long inscriptions from the Bible were cut off from
the original panels and added on below the copies. A few years
before, in 1613, they had presented the same Elector with the
beautiful Baumgärtner altar-piece, which was torn from its place in
St. Catherine's Church at Nuremberg. The two _Descents from the
Cross_ followed in the same channel: and the Praun collection at
Nuremberg yielded up the portrait of Wolgemut and the portrait of
Hans Durer. Worst of all, the portrait of their beloved and
honoured citizen, the world-famous portrait of Durer by himself,
which had become actually the property of the Town Council, was
lent by them to a local painter to copy; this ingenious craftsman
sawed the panel in half, and glued his copy on to the back, on
which were the town seal and other marks of ownership, and sold
the original to King Ludwig of Bavaria. The worthy magistrates
never discovered the fraud, or pretended not to, and this copy
hangs to-day at Nuremberg a monument of dishonour and fraud.
Gradually Nuremberg divested itself of every work by Durer which it
could, and rejoiced in its copies and its cash. Ludwig I. of
Bavaria took pity on its denuded condition, and gave back to it as
a gift the _Descent from the Cross_, known as the Peller
altar-piece, and also apparently returned from Schleissheim the
_Hercules and the Stymphalian Birds_. With the overdaubed paintings
of Charlemagne and Sigismund, these appear to be the only
authenticated paintings by Durer in his native town at the present
day. Three hundred years after Durer's death, a statue was erected
to him in Nuremberg, and his house is now preserved and shown as a
national relic. Yet little more than fifty years after the erection
of this statue, in 1884, the citizens allowed the famous
'Holzschuher' portrait, the last great work by Durer which the town
possessed, to be sold by the family, to whom it still belonged, to
the Munich Gallery. Truly a prophet hath little honour in his own
country!"
Of the pupils and assistants of Durer who carried on his tradition we
may mention Hans Schäuflein, Albert Altdorfer, Hans Baldung, Georg
Pencz, the two Behaims and the two Sebalds, and Hans von Kulmbach. We
meet with many examples of their work in the churches and in the German
Museum.
* * * * *
As we turn our steps from Durer's house and wander through the
Durer-platz to St. Sebald's we come upon the oldest restaurant in
Nuremberg, where the devout tourist should not fail to drink _ein Glas
Bier_ to the memory of Hans Sachs, Pirkheimer, and Durer, who sat here,
drank and talked in days gone by. The _Bratwurstglöcklein_ is a little
beerhouse clinging to the north wall of St. Moritz Chapel, and owes its
name, I suppose, to the custom of ringing a small bell when the sausage
was ready. As to the curious position of this little restaurant we may
remark that the practice of bargaining in the sacred precincts was very
prevalent at one time, and little booths were frequently built on to the
churches. It is only quite recently that the booths attached to the
Frauenkirche were broken up.
* * * * *
North of the Rathaus runs the Theresien Strasse. No. 7 is the house of
Adam Krafft, the greatest of Nuremberg sculptors (1430-1507). The house
belonged originally to the Pfinzing family, and is of interest in itself
for its architectural features. The figure of St. Moritz on the fountain
in the courtyard is by Peter Vischer. Here Adam Krafft, the pious and
modest stone-mason, worked at his art to the glory of God. We know next
to nothing of the man beyond what we can learn from his handiwork. There
is fortunately little reason for believing the legend that he died in
great poverty. A friend we know he was of Lindenast and Vischer, with
whom, so great was his industry and eagerness to improve in art, he used
to practise drawing on holidays, even in his old age; and it is recorded
that he made his wife call herself Eva because he was Adam. That quaint
humour of his is revealed in the pleasing relief over the gateway of the
"Waage" or old weighing-house in the Winklerstrasse. If we would see the
counterfeit presentment of the man himself, we must pay a visit to St.
Lorenzkirche, and there, on the pedestal of his masterpiece the figure
of the master appears with the tools and in the costume of his craft,
kneeling in company with his assistants and supporting their beautiful
creation.
A simple man, of calm, unruffled temper and fervent faith he must have
been, thoroughly representative of the best German spirit of his day. No
German artist has portrayed the scenes of Christ's passion with greater
depth of genuine feeling. Happily many of his principal works are at
Nuremberg. Probably the earliest examples of Nuremberg sculpture are
the figures of Adam and Eve and the prophets round the portal of St.
Lorenzkirche. They date from the fourteenth century. In point of style
and execution it is a far cry from these stern and angular figures to
the almost supernatural grace and lightness of Krafft's Pix within the
cathedral. Well did legend pay him the pretty compliment of saying that
he knew the art of _founding_ stone like bronze. Tender and graceful as
the artist here shows himself, the strength and vigour of his reliefs
are equally remarkable. His treatment of the folds of garments seems to
reflect the influence of the Netherland school, and to point to a
dangerous striving after the effects of painting. For his subjects
Krafft rarely went outside the New Testament, which he interpreted in
the terms of Nuremberg life and dress. His figures, like those in the
works of his contemporaries at Nuremberg, are in most cases short, not
to say dumpy, and reflect, no doubt, the ordinary type of human form
around him. But always the homely Nuremberg costumes in which they are
clad seem to bring the scenes portrayed nearer to our hearts; and
thereby when a Mary draws to her breast the head of her crucified Son,
or a Magdalene at the feet of Jesus waters His feet with her tears, we
are impressed the more vividly with sympathy for their sorrow.
One of his earliest works, if, as I think, it is indeed by him, is the
Last Judgment over the Schauthüre, on the south-east side of St.
Sebaldskirche. His earliest works of unquestioned authority are the
Seven Stations of the Cross on the Burgschmietsstrasse. These are a
series of bas-reliefs on seven pillars, each representing a scene in the
passion of our Lord. Starting from the house of the founder they mark
the way to St. John's churchyard. Some of them are much defaced by time
and some have been carefully copied by Burgschmiet,[44] but here and
there we can still recognise the vigorous touch of Adam Krafft, and they
still keep green the memory of their pious founder. Martin Ketzel,
somewhere about the year 1470, had undertaken a pilgrimage to the Holy
Land. Struck by the fact that the distance between Pilate's house and
Golgotha was exactly that between his own house and St. John's
Churchyard, he returned home with various measurements, determined to
erect at certain intermediate stations some pieces of sculpture
commemorative of our Saviour's passion. To his dismay when he arrived he
discovered that he had lost his precious measurements. There was nothing
for it but to return to Jerusalem and take the measurements afresh. For
he could trust no one to perform so important a task for him. This time
he was more successful, and Adam Krafft was commissioned to provide the
reliefs. Starting from Pilate's house, which was represented by Ketzel's
own house--Thiergärtnerthorplatz (opposite Durer's house--it is adorned
by the statue of an armed knight) the pillars were placed at intervals,
marking the spots corresponding to those where Christ was said to have
rested on the real Dolorous Way to Mount Calvary. Calvary itself is
represented at St. John's. Each pillar bears an inscription:--
1. Hir begegnet Christus seiner wirdigen lieben Muter die vor
grossem hertzenleit anmechtig ward. 200 Srytt von Pilatus haws.
2. Hir ward Symon gezwungen Cristo sein krewtz helfen tragen. 295
Sryt von Pilatus haws.
3. Hir sprach Christus Jr Döchter von Jherusalem nit weint über
mich, sünder uber euch und ewvre kinder. 380 Srytt von Pilatus
haws.
4. Hier hat Christus sein heiligs Angesicht der heiligen Fraw
Veronica auf iren Slayr gedruckt vor irem Haws. 500 Sryt von
Pilatus Haws.
5. Hier tregt Christus das Creuz und wird von den Juden ser hart
geslagen. 780 Srytt von Pilatus Haws.
6. Hier felt Cristus vor grosser unmacht auf die Erden bei 1000
Srytt von Pilatus haws.
Then on a small eminence by the gate of the Cemetery we behold the last
sad scenes of Calvary reproduced. It is a noble group which moves us
alike by the pathos and dignity of its treatment and by the beauty of
the inscription.
7. Hir legt Cristus tot vor seiner gebenedeyten wirdigen Muter die
in mit grosem Herzenleyt und bitterlichen smertz claget und
beweynt.
In the Holzschuher Chapel near at hand is Krafft's last work (1507) the
Burial of Christ. In this piece, which lacks the fervent feeling of his
earlier representations of Christ's passion and was probably chiefly
executed by his assistants, the figure of Joseph of Arimathea is a
portrait of Adam Krafft. Krafft in his prime (1492) had dealt with the
same subject in the Sebald-Schreyer-tomb on the outer wall of the Choir
of St. Sebaldskirche, facing the Rathaus. The "Burial" in St. John's
Church seems cold and hard compared with the pathos and beauty of this
masterpiece, so finely composed and exquisitely wrought.
Other works of Adam Krafft's which well repay study are:--
1496. Bearing the Cross, St. Sebaldskirche.
1501. The Last Supper, Mount of Olives and Betrayal,
behind the High Altar, St. Sebaldskirche.
1504. The Annunciation, on the house at the corner
of Winklerstrasse and Schulgässchen.
1499. The Crowning of Mary (Pergenstorfer Relief)
in the Frauenkirche.
1499. Madonna with Child, on the corner-house,
Wunderburggässlein.
1501. Crowning of Mary, in the Tetzellchapel of the
Ægidien Church.
But most important of all stands in the St. Lorenzkirche the wonderful
Pix, Ciborium, Weibrodgehäuse, or Sakramentshäuslein, wherein were
deposited the elements of the Eucharist, previous to consecration. This
"miracle of German art" (1496-1500) was made on commission for Hans
Imhoff, a member of the great family of merchant princes, who died in
1499, a year before it was finished, though long after it was due to be
delivered. His heirs, however, recognised the merit of the master who,
inspired by friendly rivalry with Vischer's Sebaldusgrab, completed at
last so great a work of art. They gave to Krafft 70 gulden more than the
700 gulden he asked, and to his wife a mantle worth 6 gulden.
[Illustration: SAKRAMENTSHÄUSLEIN. (ADAM KRAFFT)]
Nuremberg, so rich in legend, tells a story of the origin of the Pix. A
servant of Hans Imhoff was accused of having stolen a goblet and, in
terror of being tortured, confessed the theft. He suffered death
accordingly. But a little while afterwards the goblet was found, full of
wine, beneath a bed, where it had been placed, it was surmised, by some
guest who had been drinking too freely. As an atonement for his
hastiness Hans Imhoff dedicated this offering to the Lord.
Similar, but inferior _Weihbrodgehäusen_ by Adam Krafft are to be seen
at Schwabach and at Heilsbronn. That by the Master of Weingarten at Ulm
rivals though it can scarcely surpass the St. Lorenzkirche masterpiece.
The life-size kneeling figures of the master, in the middle with
cap, apron and mallet, and two assistants, the one with a measure
and the other with a chisel, support the balcony which runs round
the Ciborium. The pillars of the balustrade are adorned with eight
figures of saints, including St. Lorenz (with gridiron) and St.
Sebald.
On the pillars of the Ciborium itself (beneath which are small
angels and escutcheons), are the statues of Moses, John, Mary, and
James the Less.
Above the receptacle rises a spire like a bishop's crosier,
representing perhaps the crook of the Good Shepherd. It is
ornamented with statuettes of saints, and as the Holy Sacrament was
instituted to commemorate the death of the Redeemer the artist has
added reliefs representing episodes of the Passion, which with the
Resurrection complete for all believers the fruits of the Holy
Supper.
1. Christ comforting the Women.
2. The Holy Supper.
3. The Mount of Olives.
Above these again are four patriarchs and eight angels holding
signs of the passion, which interpreted as instruments of torture
may have given rise to the story of the origin of the Pix. Then--
4. Christ before Pilate.
5. The Crown of Thorns.
6. The Crucifixion. SS. Mary and John and a kneeling figure (the Church?).
On the pillars above stand the four Evangelists(?) and above all
the figure of the risen Saviour, the right hand stretched out in
benediction, the left holding the banner of victory.
But apart from the details of the carving, it is the grace of the
fretted Gothic pinnacle of finest filigree stonework that seizes our
attention. Tapering, or rather mounting airily on high it carries the
eye up to the spandril of the vaulting of the choir, soaring like the
notes of a flute-like voice, and embodying, as it were, the utterance of
some deeply spiritual aspiration. The delicate elaboration of this
wonderful stonework seems to have overcome all terrestial heaviness.
Higher still and higher, it springs from the earth like Shelley's
skylark, but it fades not from view. For when, some sixty feet from the
ground, the bend of the vaulting checks its further growth, it bows its
beautiful head and like a lily on its stalk or snowdrop on its stem
terminates in a pendant flower. It is indeed a miracle of rare device.
So slender and graceful is it and withal so clear-cut that the triumph
of the artist over his material seems almost unearthly, whilst the
spring and proportion of the whole and the sharpness of the carving
redeem him from the imputation of making an inappropriate use of stone.
In this, as in the Schreyertomb, it is usual to trace the influence of
Durer on the sculptor. To me it seems more probable that Adam Krafft's
style with its excessive minuteness influenced Albert Durer and was in
turn influenced by Martin Schongauer.
* * * * *
Wood-carving (as a visit to the Museum will demonstrate) flourished
exceedingly at Nuremberg. There were indeed so many carvers there
towards the end of the fifteenth century that it is difficult to
understand how they all gained a livelihood. The greatest artist among
them, if we except the unknown master of the Nuremberg Madonna in the
Museum, was certainly Veit Stoss. Born in 1440 he was of abstemious and
frugal habits and lived till 1533. In 1477 he gave up his rights of
citizenship, went to Poland, and at Cracow made a great reputation by
the high altar and choir-stalls he carved for the Church of St. Mary
there. Like Durer he was very versatile--a carver in wood and stone,
painter, engraver, mechanician, and architect. But unlike most of the
great artists of this period, his character was stained by a
considerable crime.
On returning to Nuremberg in 1496 he was nick-named the Pole and was
presently condemned on a charge of forging a signature to a document
which was to substantiate his claim against a Nuremberg merchant, whom
he accused of having cheated him out of a sum of money. He was sentenced
to be branded on both cheeks--a gentle punishment, seeing that a forger
was liable to lose both eyes. The Council also compelled him to swear
that he would never leave Nuremberg, but, when he found that no one
would work with him, he fled. But later, the Council pardoned him and
received him back. They seem to have appreciated his artistic gifts as
much as Maximilian. Stoss worked very diligently at Nuremberg and
received orders even from Transylvania and Portugal. Whatever his
character--and it is fair to add that on the count of forgery he always
maintained that he was unjustly accused--his art will always bring him
praise. Of his numberless altar-pieces, crucifixes and Madonnas, the
very beautiful wood gilt crucifix and the much-admired Angels' Greeting,
both in the Lorenzkirche, are the most famous. His earliest work in
Nuremberg is a painted carving of the Madonna and Child on the north
wall of the Frauenkirche, executed for the old Welser Altar (1504). Veit
Stoss, it is pointed out in his later work, exhibits the increasing
influence of Albert Durer, but nowhere more unmistakably than in the
"Englischer Gruss" (1518)--the Angelic Greeting, which hangs from the
roof of the Lorenzkirche, a work of tender piety, in which the delicacy
of the figures is very noticeable. Formerly the Greeting hung in the
choir suspended by a costly chain. But owing to the torrent of coarse
abuse which Osiander, the great preacher and reformer, hurled against
it, it was wrapped up in a green sack, on which were set the Tucher
arms. Later on, the chain was replaced by a rope. Then the Greeting was
moved about from church to church till at last it returned to St.
Lawrence's. But it was insecurely hung, and in 1817 it fell from a
height of 50 feet and was broken to pieces. It was very skilfully put
together again by the brothers Rotermundt. But the huge crown which
originally surmounted it was not restored.
Celebrated as this carving is, and beautiful as are many of the
individual figures and details in the medallions, the Angelic Greeting
as a whole is, I confess, too florid and too heavy for my taste. So
that, rather than be dishonest in my enthusiasms, I will only add
(without superciliousness) that for those who like this sort of thing,
this is the sort of thing they like.
The praying Mary, who holds in her left hand a book, her right hand
being laid upon her breast, and an angel with the staff of the
Annunciation, stand alone, over life-size, in the centre of a
rose-wreath frame. Over the wreath is carved God the Father,
sitting between two angels, with crown and sceptre, blessing the
figures beneath. Other angels hovering about Mary make heavenly
music. Under the wreath, Eve's serpent (with the apple), is being
conquered by the Ave with which the Angel of Annunciation greets
Mary.
On the wreath itself, seven round medallions in low relief
represent the seven joys of Mary:--the Annunciation, Visitation,
Birth of Christ, (_cf._ the Rosenkranz-tafel in the Museum),
Adoration of the Wise Men, Resurrection of Christ, Pouring out of
the Holy Spirit, and Crowning of Mary.
* * * * *
Krafft and Stoss worked in the Gothic style, but Peter Vischer
(1455-1529), the bronze founder, except in his early works, of which
there are no examples in Nuremberg, shows the influence of the Italian
Renaissance. Perhaps this had come to him through Jacopo dei Barbari,
whose influence on Durer we have noted. However that may be, Peter
Vischer remains a truly original artist. And yet, the son of a
coppersmith, he ever continued to regard himself as a simple artisan.
With a workman's cap, and a large leather apron round his waist, with
hammer and chisel in hand, the signs of his calling, he has portrayed
himself to us in his most beautiful work of art--the shrine of St.
Sebald. There, in a niche facing the altar, stands, thick-set and
full-bearded, the modest, pious labourer, whose reputation had spread
beyond the limits of Germany, and whose bronze work, if we may believe
the chronicler, once "filled Poland, Bohemia, Hungary, and the palaces
of princes throughout the Holy Roman Empire." Seldom did prince or
potentate come to Nuremberg without paying a visit to Vischer's
workshop. Adam Krafft and Sebastien Lindenast, the coppersmith who made
works of art of copper "as if they had been of gold or silver," and who
is responsible for the copper figures which adorn the Frauenkirche
clock, were his two bosom friends. They seemed, we are told, to have but
one heart. All three were equally simple, disinterested, and ever eager
to learn. "They were like brothers: every Friday, even in their old age,
they met and studied together like apprentices, as the designs which
they executed at their meetings prove. Then they separated in friendly
wise, but without having eaten or drunk together."
The masterpiece[45] of Peter Vischer is without doubt the shrine of St.
Sebald, the highest expression of German art in this kind. Imagination,
which is so much lacking in most German art, is found here in plenty,
and in a still higher degree the artist displays his sense of form and
his careful attention to detail. To find any work of the fifteenth
century which can vie with this in richness of fancy and in depth of
feeling, as well as in successful handling of bronze, we must go I think
to Ghibellino Ghiberti's gates of the Baptistry at Florence. The
criticism, however, which must be passed on the Sebaldusgrab is that the
parts are very much greater than the whole; but the beauty and finish of
the details are so great that once we are within range of their
influence we forget and forgive any fault that may have caught our eye
in the proportionment of the complete structure.
It was in 1507 that Vischer received the commission to make this superb
receptacle for the bones of St. Sebald. For twelve years he with his
five sons laboured, though their labour was often interrupted by want of
funds. Private subscriptions failed to supply the cost even of the
15,700 pounds--about 7 tons--of metal used. At last when, in 1519, Anton
Tucher in moving words had told the citizens in St. Sebald's Church that
they ought to subscribe the 800 gulden still wanting "for the glory of
God and His Holy Saint," the money was forthcoming, and the monument was
completed.
The iron railings which surround it were made by George Heuss, who was
also responsible for the clockwork at the Frauenkirche and the mechanism
for drawing water at the deep well on the Paniersberg.
Round the base of the shrine runs the following inscription:--"Peter
Vischer Bürger in Nürnberg machet dieses Werk, mit seinen Söhnen, ward
vollbracht im Jahr, 1519. Ist allein Gott dem allmächtigen zu lob und
St. Sebald dem Himmelsfürsten zu ehren, mit Hülf andächtiger Leut von
dem Almosen bezahlt."
That is the keynote of this wonderful structure. Through years of
difficulty and distress the pious artist had toiled and struggled on
with the help of pious persons, paid by their voluntary contributions,
to complete a work "to the praise of God Almighty alone and the honour
of St. Sebald." No words, one feels, can add to the simple dignity and
faith of that inscription. It supplies us with the motive of the work,
and it supplies us also with the interpretation of the various groups
and statues which form the shrine. To the glory of God,--we are shown
how all the world, all nature and her products, all paganism with its
heroic deeds and natural virtues, the Old Dispensation with its prophets
and the New with its apostles and saints, pay homage to the Infant
Christ, who enthroned on the summit holds in his hands the terrestrial
globe. To the honour of St. Sebald,--the miniature Gothic chapel of
bronze, under the richly fretted canopy some fifteen feet high, contains
the oaken coffer encased with silver in which the bones of St. Sebald
lie; and below this sarcophagus, which dates from 1397, are admirable
bas-reliefs representing scenes and miracles from the life of the
Saint.[46]
At the feet of the eight slender pillars which support the canopy are
all sorts of strange figures and creatures suggestive of the world of
pagan mythology, gods of the forest and of the sea, nymphs of the water
and the wood. Between them are some lions couchant, which recall to the
memory Wolgemut's Peringsdörffer Altar-piece. At the four corners are
candlesticks held by most graceful and seductive winged mermaids. But
the most famous and the most beautiful figures are those of the Twelve
Apostles, which stand, each about two feet, on high brackets and in
niches on the pillars of the canopy. Clad in graceful, flowing robes,
their expression and whole attitude expressive both of vigour and of
tranquil dignity, these statues are wholly admirable. I know no
sculpture or painting which conveys to a higher degree the sense of the
intellectual and moral beauty and strength which centred in these first
followers of Christ. That characteristic pervades them all, but the
unity of suggestion is conveyed through a variety of individualities and
of actions. Each apostle stands forth distinct in the vigour of his own
inspired personality.
Those at the east end of the monument are St. Peter and St. Andrew; on
the north, or right side as we face these, are SS. Simon, Bartholomew,
Thomas, and Matthew; on the south, or left, SS. John, James, Philip, and
Paul; and on the west SS. Thaddæus and Matthias.
The apostles are surmounted by the forms of the Fathers of the Church,
or rather perhaps of the twelve minor prophets. Beneath the apostles, on
the substructure in a niche facing west, is a fine statue of St. Sebald,
and at the corresponding place on the other end of the monument is the
excellent statue of P. Vischer himself, to which we have referred.
Right at the bottom, at the foot of the four corner pillars, are the
nude figures of Nimrod with his bow and quiver, of Samson with the
slaughtered lion and jawbone of an ass, Perseus with sword and shield
and in company of a mouse, and innumerable other little animals;
Hercules with a club. Between these heroes, in the centre of either
side, are female figures representing the four chief manly
Virtues--Strength in a coat of mail with a lion, Temperance with vessel
and globe, Truth with mirror and book, and Justice with sword and
balance. In all, besides the apostles and prophets, there are
seventy-two figures, in the presentation of which amidst flowers and
foliage the exuberant fancy of the artist has run riot. But all are
subordinated to the two central ideas which animate the whole, and all
are executed with a delicacy and finish little short of marvellous. The
whole fabric rests on twelve large snails with four dolphins at the
corners.
Peter Vischer died in 1529 and was buried in the Rochus Churchyard. His
sons and Pankraz Labenwolf proved worthy successors in his art.
Labenwolf was responsible for the Gänsemännchen fountain in the
Gänsemarkt, the fountain in the Court of the Rathaus and perhaps for the
St. Wenzel in the Landauerbrüderhaus. After Peter Vischer's death his
sons received an order to complete for the Great Hall of the Rathaus a
very beautiful bronze railing, which their father had begun in 1513 for
the family of Fugger in Augsburg, who, however, had withdrawn their
commission. This railing, which divided the Great Hall, was a work of
very great artistic excellence. But it was taken away in 1806 by the
Bavarian Government, _and sold for the weight of the metal_. It was
probably melted down by the purchaser for the sake of the bronze. Anyhow
all trace of this beautiful work of art has disappeared.
We have now dealt with the most famous of the Nuremberg craftsmen. It
would be wearisome to do more than mention a few of the leading names
amongst those who excelled in other branches of art. A host of
locksmiths, glasscutters, potters and stovemakers, bookbinders and
carvers turned out in the golden age of Nuremberg work which has never
received its artist's name, but which continues to delight us. The
painted glass, which in spite of much modern restoration is one of
Nuremberg's most priceless possessions, is often by unknown hands. But
we can name such artists as Schapfer and Helmbach and later Veit,
Augustin and Sebald Hirschvogel, Guttenberger, Juvenell, Amnon,
Kirnberger and Springlin. Especially is it the case with the early glass
in the smaller churches that we must label it _Pictor Ignotus_. The
principal churches contain painted glass windows which surpass even
those of Ulm and Cologne. In St. Lorenzkirche there is the Tucher window
(1457) by Springlin; whilst the Volkamer window (1493), representing the
family and patron saint of the donor and the genealogical tree of Jesus
Christ, is justly claimed to be, for richness and depth of colouring and
for elaboration of design, one of the noblest windows in the world. It
can only be doubtfully attributed to Veit Hirschvogel. To him, however,
belongs the credit of the Maximilian window in St. Sebald's (1514), and
the Margrave's window (1527), designed by Kulmbach, in the same church.
There, too, is a window by Kirnberger and the Bishop of Bamberg's window
(1493), which may perhaps be by Katzheimer of Bamberg.
There were at one time fifty masters in the goldsmith trade, whose
delicate work, excellent in execution and varied in design, was renowned
throughout Europe. The fact that in 1552 nine hundred pounds' weight of
silver and silver-gilt ornaments was taken from the churches and sold by
order of the Council, will show how rich Nuremberg was in this respect.
But we can do here no more than mention the names of Ludwig Krug and
Wenzel Jamnitzer and Augustin Hirschvogel, goldsmiths and painters on
enamel.
Of armourers and metal-workers there were Hans Grünewalt, who died in
1503, and his son-in-law Wilhelm von Worms, whilst Martin Harscher
(1523) and Kaspar Endterlein (1633) were chief among the makers of
waterpots and candelabra. Sebald Behaim, the great gunsmith; Hieronymus
Gärtner, the architect; Jakob Püllman, the clockmaker and locksmith,
also claim mention.
Nuremberg was the home of invention as well as of industry. Christopher
Denner invented the clarionet in 1690, and Lobsinger the air-gun in
1550. Cannon were first cast here about the year 1350, and in 1500 Peter
Henlein made the first watches, which, from their shape, were called
Nuremberg eggs. Specimens may be seen in the Castle and in the Museum.
Erasmus Ebner discovered the particular alloy of metals which we call
brass, the brass of earlier times being apparently of different
combination, and one Rudolph invented a machine for drawing wire in
1360. About the same time the first paper-mill in Germany, if not in
Europe, was established at Nuremberg; and here at the latter end of the
fourteenth century playing-cards, though not invented, were certainly
printed. Last, but not least, the honey cakes, which still introduce the
German child to the name of Nürnberg, were famous as our Banbury cakes,
and much appreciated by princes in the Middle Ages.
It will be seen that the proverb--
"Nürnberg Tand geht durch alle Land,"
was no empty boast, and we can now understand the force of the rhyme--
"Hätt' ich Venedigs Macht,
Augsburger Pracht,
Nürnberger Witz,[47]
Strassburger Geschütz
Und Ulmer Geld
So wär ich der Reichste in der Welt"