Nuremberg, where he devoted himself with unremitting assiduity to the
prosecution of his art. During these years his powers unfolded
rapidly, and there are extant two notable pictures, which were
undoubtedly produced at this time, the triptych in the Dresden
Gallery, and an altar-piece which is in the palace of the Archbishop
of Vienna, at Ober St. Veit. These compositions, while remarkable in
many respects, still reveal the influence of his master, Wohlgemuth,
and give evidence of having been in part executed with the assistance
of apprentices. In fact, the peak-gabled house at the foot of the
castle-mound in Nuremberg was a picture factory like that of
Wohlgemuth, in which, however, work of a higher order than any
hitherto produced in Germany was being turned out. We know the names
of four or five of those who served as apprentices under Duerer at
this time and they are stars of lesser magnitude in the
constellation of German art. But Duerer was not contented simply to
employ his talents in the production of painted altar-pieces, and we
find him turning out a number of engravings, the most noticeable among
which are his sixteen great wood-cuts illustrating the Apocalypse,
which were published in 1498. The theme was one which had peculiar
fascinations for all classes at the time. The breaking up of all
pre-existing systems, the wonderful stirrings of a new life which were
beginning to be felt everywhere with the close of the Middle Age and
the dawning of the Renaissance, had filled the minds of men with
wonder, and caused them to turn to the writings of the Apocalyptic
Seer with keenest interest. A recent critic, commenting upon his work
as represented in these engravings, says: "The energy and undismayed
simplicity of his imagination enable him, in this order of creations,
to touch the highest point of human achievement. The four angels
keeping back the winds that they blow not, the four riders, the
loosing of the angels of the Euphrates to slay the third part of
men--these and others are conceptions of such force, such grave or
tempestuous grandeur, in the midst of grotesqueness, as the art of no
other age or hand has produced."
At this period Duerer was also engaged in experimenting upon the art of
copper-plate engraving, in which he restricted himself mainly to
reproducing copies of the works of other artists, among them those of
Jacopo de Barbari, a painter of the Italian school, who was residing
in Nuremberg, and who among other things gave the great artist
instruction in plastic anatomy. The influence of his instructor is
plain, when we compare engravings executed about 1504 with those
published at a previous date, and especially when we examine his
design of the Passion of our Lord painted in white upon a green
ground, commonly known as "The Green Passion," which is treasured in
the Albertina at Prague. He also during these twelve years finished
seven of the twelve great wood-cuts illustrating the passion, and
sixteen of the twenty cuts which compose the series known as "The Life
of the Virgin." The activities of Duerer in Nuremberg were temporarily
interrupted by a journey to Italy, which he undertook in the fall of
the year 1505. What the immediate occasion for undertaking this
journey may have been is not plain, though it seems most likely that
one of his objects was to enable him to recuperate from the effects of
a protracted illness, from which he had suffered during the summer of
this year, and also incidentally to secure a market for his wares in
Venice, the commercial relationships of which with Nuremberg were very
close at this period. A German colony, composed largely of Nuremberg
factors and merchants, was located at this time in Venice, and they
had secured the privilege of dedicating a great painting in the church
of St. Bartholomew. The commission for the execution of this painting
was secured by Duerer. It represents the adoration of the Virgin, but
has been commonly known under the name of "The Feast of the Rose
Garlands." After having undergone many vicissitudes, it is preserved
to-day in a highly mutilated condition in the monastery of Strachow,
near Prague. Duerer's stay in Venice was signalized not only by the
production of this painting, but of three or four other notable works
which still exist, and which reflect the great influence upon him of
the Italian school of painting, with which he had attained
familiarity. His stay in Venice lasted about a year. In the fall of
1506, he returned to Nuremberg, and there remained for the next
fourteen years, engaged in the practice of his art. These years were
years of success and prosperity. His name and fame had spread over the
whole of Europe, and the greatest artists of the day were glad to do
him homage. Raphael said of him, when contemplating some of his
designs, "Truly this man would have surpassed us all, if he had the
masterpieces of ancient art constantly before his eyes as we have." A
friendly correspondence was maintained between the immortal Italian
and his German contemporary, and in his own country, all men, from the
emperor to the peasant, delighted to do honor to his genius, the
products of which were found alike in church and palace, and through
his printed designs in the homes of the humble poor.
The proud old imperial city of Nuremberg had gathered within its
battlemented walls a multitude of men who were distinguished not only
for their commercial enterprise and wealth, but many of whom were the
exponents of the literary and artistic culture of the time. Among the
men with whom Duerer found congenial companionship were Adam Krafft,
the sculptor; Veit Stoss, whose exquisite carvings in wood may reflect
in some measure in the wild luxuriance of the imagination which they
display, the restless, "dare-devil" spirit with which his biographers
invest him; Peter Vischer, the bronze founder; and last but not least.
Hans Sachs, the cobbler poet, whose quaint rhymes are a source of
delight to this day, and were a mighty force in the great work of the
Reformation, by which the fetters of mediaeval traditions and
ecclesiastical abuse were thrown off by the German people.
Of the personal appearance of Duerer at this time, we are not left in
ignorance. A portrait of himself from his own hands has been preserved
and is well known. His features reveal refinement and great
intellectuality, united with grace, and his attire shows that he was
not oblivious to matters of personal adornment. After the fashion of
the time, his hair was worn in long and graceful ringlets, which fell
in heavy masses about his shoulders.
The first six years which followed his return from Venice were almost
wholly given to painting, and his productions give evidence of the
fact that he had dismissed from his employment the retinue of
assistants and apprentices, whom he had employed in his earlier years.
From this period date most of his great masterpieces, which are still
preserved, among them the "Adam and Eve," in the Pitti Palace; the
"Ten Thousand Martyrs of Nicomedia," in the Imperial Gallery, at
Vienna; the "Adoration of the Trinity," at the Belvedere, in Vienna;
and "The Assumption of the Virgin," the original of which was
destroyed by fire more than three hundred years ago, but of which a
good copy is preserved at Frankfort. To this period belong the
portraits of Charlemagne and of the Emperor Sigismund, which are
preserved in the National German Museum at Nuremberg.
[Illustration: Albert Duerer Visits Hans Sachs.]
But while prosecuting the work of the painter, he did not neglect the
art of the engraver, and in 1511, brought out in complete form his
great book of woodcuts in folio, and began to develop that marvellous
art of etching which is indissolubly connected with his name. Among
the products of the etcher's needle which attest his activity in this
direction are those masterpieces which have for centuries been at once
the delight and the puzzle of artistic minds: the "Melancholia," "The
Knight and the Devil," and "St. Jerome in his Cell." The most
reasonable explanation of these weird fancies is that they were
intended to represent in allegorical style the three temperaments--the
melancholic, the sanguine, and the phlegmatic. The Diet of Augsburg,
which was convened in 1518, gave Duerer a passing opportunity to depict
the lineaments of the Emperor Maximilian, who gave him several
sittings, and who manifested great interest in the painter. The death
of the emperor in the following year, the outbreak of an epidemic in
Nuremberg, together with the coronation of Charles V. at
Aix-la-Chapelle, led Duerer to undertake a journey to the Low
Countries, in which he was accompanied by his faithful wife. He was
present at the coronation and was one of the distinguished civilians
whose appearance added dignity to the occasion. His diary, in which he
recounts his experiences upon this journey, and which is accompanied
by a multitude of wayside sketches, is still preserved, and contains,
besides the dry entries of his current expenditures, most entertaining
allusions to the distinguished people whom he met, and who received
him with the utmost cordiality. Intermingled with these narrative
details are outbursts of feeling, which are provoked by passing
political and ecclesiastical events, in which he took a profound
interest, though he never appears to have committed himself with
positive openness to the party of reform. His sympathies are, however,
clearly shown by his writings, as well as by his works of art, to have
been with the Reformers, and he lived on terms of intimacy with
Erasmus and Melancthon, of both of whom we have portraits from his
hand.
Duerer returned from the Netherlands in 1521, about the middle of July,
and the remaining years of his life were spent in the prosecution of
the art of the engraver, in painting, and in the effort to elucidate
the sciences of perspective, geometry, and fortification, upon all of
which he has left treatises.
His labors, though they had not brought with them great wealth, had
secured for him a competency, and the latter years of his life were
devoted more and more to labors which, while dignified, did not tend
to add greatly to his already magnificent reputation. These labors
were prosecuted in spite of ever-failing health. While in the
Netherlands he had contracted a malarial fever, the effects of which
clung to him, in spite of the best treatment which could be secured,
and left him the wreck of his former self. On April 6, 1528, death
suddenly overtook him. There was not even time to summon his friends
to his side before his spirit had fled. The city which had been his
home from childhood was filled with mourning. They took up his remains
and gently laid them to rest in the burial vault of his wife's family
in the graveyard of the Church of St. John, where the setting sun
pours its last glowing beams at evening over the low Franconian
hill-tops. The vault has since been changed and the last
resting-place of the remains of the Raphael of the North is a lowly
mound, reverently approached by all who visit the quaint imperial
city, upon which is a slab, covered with a bronze tablet upon which
are the words:
Quicquid Alberti Dureri Mortale
Fuit Sub Hoc Conditum Tumulo.
Emigravit VIII Idus Aprilis, MDXXVIIL
"_Emigravit_ is the inscription on the tombstone where he lies;
Dead he is not, but departed--for the artist never dies.
Fairer seems the ancient city, and the sunshine seems more fair,
That he once has trod its pavement, that he once has breathed its air!"
[Signature of the author.]
RUBENS
By Mrs. LEE
(1577-1640)
[Illustration: Rubens.]
"It is just one hundred and twenty years to-day," said a young artist
to his friend, as he stood in the hall of St. Mark, at Venice,
contemplating the noble works of Titian. "Time, the destroyer, has
here stayed his hand; the colors are as vivid and as fresh as if they
were laid on but yesterday. Would that my old friend and master, Otho
Venius, was here! At least I will carry back to Antwerp that in my
coloring which shall prove to him that I have not played truant to the
art."
"Just one hundred and twenty years," repeated he, "since Titian was
born. Venice was then in its glory, but now it is all falling; its
churches and palaces are crumbling to dust, its commerce interrupted.
The republic continually harassed by the Porte, and obliged to call on
foreign aid; depressed by her internal despotism, her council of ten,
and state inquisitors; her decline, though gradual, is sure; yet the
splendor of her arts remains, and the genius of Titian, her favorite
son, is yet in the bloom and brilliancy of youth!"
Such was the enthusiastic exclamation of Rubens, as he contemplated
those paintings which had brought him from Antwerp. How many gifted
minds spoke to him from the noble works which were before him! The
three Bellinis, the founders of the Venetian school; Giorgione,
Titian, and Tintoretto. Then Paolo Veronese, who, though born at
Verona, in 1537, adopted Venice as his home, and became the
fellow-artist of Tintoretto, and the disciple of Titian. Pordenone,
too, who viewed Titian as a rival and an enemy. Palma the young, and
Palma the old, born in 1548, and the Bassanos, who died near 1627.
All these were present to the eye of Rubens, their genius embodied on
the canvas in the halls of St. Mark. "These," he exclaimed, "have
formed the Venetian school, and these shall be my study!"
From this time, the young artist might daily be seen with his sheets
of white paper, and his pencil in his hand. A few strokes preserved
the outline which his memory filled up; and by an intuitive glance,
his genius understood and appropriated every signal beauty.
In Venice he became acquainted with the Archduke Albert, who
introduced him to the Duke of Mantua, whither he went for the purpose
of studying the works of Julio Romano. From thence he proceeded to
Rome; here Raphael was his model, and Michael Angelo his wonder. He
devoted himself to painting with a fervor that belongs only to genius;
and he soon proved that, whatever he gained by ancient study, the
originality of his own conceptions would still remain and appear. To
the vivid and splendid coloring of the Venetian school, he was perhaps
more indebted than to any other model. The affectionate and constant
intercourse, by letters, that subsisted between Rubens and his mother,
made his long residence in Italy one of pleasure. At Rome he was
employed to adorn, by his paintings, the Church of Santa Croce, and
also the "Chiesa Nova."
Rubens had been originally destined by his mother for one of the
learned professions. His father was born at Antwerp, and held the
honorable office of councillor of state. When the civil war broke out
he repaired to Cologne, where his son, Peter Paul Rubens, was born. He
died soon after his return to Antwerp, and left his property much
diminished from losses occasioned by the civil war. The mother of
Rubens put him early to the best schools, where he was initiated in
learning and discovered a taste for belles-lettres; but all the
intervals of necessary study were devoted to drawing. His mother
perceiving it, determined to indulge his inclination, and placed him
in the studio of Van Noort.
The correct taste of the scholar soon led him to perceive that he
could not adopt this artist's style, and he became the pupil of Otho
Venius. Similarity of thought and feeling united them closely, and it
was with true disinterestedness that the master urged his pupil to
quit his confined circle and repair to Italy, the great school of art.
Time flew rapidly with Rubens, while engaged in his beloved and
honorable pursuit; he looked forward to the period when he might
return to Antwerp and place his mother in her former affluence. Nearly
seven years had passed since he took leave of her. Of late he thought
her letters had been less cheerful; she spoke of her declining
health, of her earnest hope that she might live to embrace him once
more. This hint was enough for his affectionate heart. He immediately
broke off all his engagements and prepared to return. Everyone knows
what impatience is created when one first begins to contemplate home,
after a long absence, and the heart is turned toward it. "Seven years
absent?" wrote Rubens to his mother, "how is it possible I have lived
so long away from you? It is too long; henceforth I will devote myself
to your happiness. Antwerp shall be my future residence. I have
acquired a taste for horticulture; our little garden shall be enlarged
and cultivated, and our home will be a paradise."
What are human anticipations and projects! the day before he was to
quit Rome he received a letter informing him that his mother was very
ill, and begging him to return with all speed. With breathless haste
he hurried back, without sleep or rest. When he reached the city he
dared not make any inquiries. At length he stood before the paternal
mansion; he saw the gloomy tiles and half-closed window-shutters. It
was the fall of the trees. He observed people going in and out at the
door; to speak was impossible. At length he rushed in and heard the
appalling sentence, "Too late," a sentence that often strikes
desolation to the human heart. His mother had expired that morning.
While he was struggling with the bitterness of sorrow, he met with
Elizabeth Brants. There was something in the tone of her voice which
infused tranquillity into his mind, and affection came in a new form
to assuage his loss. She was the "ladye of his love," and afterward
his wife. He built a magnificent house at Antwerp, with a saloon in
form of a rotunda, which he ornamented and enriched with antique
statues, busts, vases, and pictures by the most celebrated painters.
Thus surrounded by the gems of art, he devoted himself to the
execution of works which were the pride of his native country, and
caused honors and wealth to be heaped upon him.
There were those found who could not endure the splendor of his
success; these calumniated. There were others who tried to draw him
into visionary speculations. A chemist offered him a share of his
laboratory, to join in his search for the philosopher's stone. He
carried the visionary to his painting-room, and said, "The offer comes
too late. You see I have found out the art of making gold by my
palette and pencils."
Rubens was now at the height of prosperity and happiness, a dangerous
eminence, and one on which few are permitted to rest. A second time
his heart was pierced with sorrow: he lost his young wife, Elizabeth,
a few years after their union. Deep as was his sorrow, he had yet
resolution enough to feel the necessity of exertion. He left the place
which constantly reminded him of domestic enjoyment, the memory of
which contrasted so sadly with the present silence and solitude, and
travelled for some time in Holland. After his return, he received a
commission from Mary de Medici, of France, to adorn the palace of the
Luxembourg. He executed for this purpose a number of paintings at
Antwerp, and instructed several pupils in his art.
At this time Rubens devoted himself wholly to painting, and scarcely
allowed himself time for recreation. He considered it one of the most
effectual means of instruction, to allow his pupils to observe his
method of using his paints. He therefore had them with him while he
worked on his large pictures. Teniers, Snyders, Jordaens, and Vandyke
were among his pupils--all names well known.
When Rubens had executed the commission given him by Mary de Medici,
wife of Henry IV., he repaired to Paris to arrange his pictures at the
Luxembourg palace, and there painted two more, and likewise the
galleries, representing passages of her life.
Here he became acquainted with the Duke of Buckingham, as that
nobleman was on his way to Madrid with Prince Charles. On his return
to Antwerp, he was summoned to the presence of the Infanta Isabella,
who had, through Buckingham, become interested in his character. She
thought him worthy of a political mission to the court of Madrid,
where he was most graciously received by Philip. While at Madrid he
painted four pictures for the convent of the Carmelites, and a fine
portrait of the king on horseback, with many other pictures; for these
extraordinary productions he was richly rewarded, received the honor
of knighthood, and was presented with the golden key.
While in Spain, Don John, Duke of Braganza, who was afterward king of
Portugal, sent and invited him to visit him at Villa Vitiosa, the
place of his residence. Rubens, perhaps, might at this time have been
a little dazzled with his uncommon elevation. He was now _Sir Paul_
and celebrated all over Europe. It was proper he should make the visit
as one person of high rank visits another. His preparations were great
to appear in a becoming style, and not to shame his noble host. At
length the morning arrived, and, attended by a numerous train of
courteous friends and hired attendants, the long cavalcade began the
journey. When not far distant from Villa Vitiosa, Rubens learned that
Don John had sent an embassy to meet him. Such an honor had seldom
been accorded to a private gentleman, and Rubens schooled himself to
receive it with suitable humility and becoming dignity.
He put up at a little distance from Villa Vitiosa, awaiting the
arrival of the embassy; finally it came, in the form of a single
gentleman, who civilly told him that the duke, his master, had been
obliged to leave home on business that could not be dispensed with,
and therefore must deny himself the pleasure of the visit; but as he
had probably been at some extra expense in coming so far, he begged
him to accept of fifty pistoles as a remuneration.
Rubens refused the pistoles, and could not forbear adding that he had
"brought two thousand along with him, which he had meant to spend at
his court during the fifteen days he was to spend there."
The truth was, that when Don John was informed that Rubens was coming
in the style of a prince to see him, it was wholly foreign to his
plan; he was a great lover of painting, and had wished to see him as
an artist. He therefore determined to prevent the visit.
The second marriage of Rubens, with Helena Forman, was, no less than
the first, one of affection; she had great beauty, and became a model
for his pencil. His favor with the great continued. Mary de Medici
visited him at his own home more than once; and the Infanta Isabella
was so much satisfied with his mission in Spain, that she sent him to
England, to sound the disposition of the government on the subject of
a peace.
Rubens disclosed in this embassy his diplomatic talents; he first
appeared there in his character of artist, and insensibly won upon the
confidence of Charles. The king requested him to paint the ceiling of
the banqueting-house at Whitehall. While he was employed upon it,
Charles frequently visited him and criticised the work. Rubens, very
naturally introducing the subject, and finding, from the tenor of his
conversation, that he was by no means averse to a peace with Spain, at
length produced his credentials. The king received his mission most
graciously, and Rubens returned to the Netherlands crowned with honors
and success.
He had passed his fiftieth year when his health began to fail, and he
was attacked with a severe fit of the gout. Those who have witnessed
the irritation attendant upon that disorder will appreciate the
perfect harmony and gentleness that existed between Rubens and his
wife. With untiring tenderness she devoted herself to him, and was
ingenious in devising alleviations and comforts.
The severe attacks of Rubens' disorder debilitated his frame, yet he
continued painting at his easel almost to the last; and, amid
suffering and sickness, never failed in giving the energy of intellect
to his pictures. He died at the age of sixty-three, in the year 1640,
leaving great wealth. The pomp and circumstance of funeral rite can
only be of consequence as showing the estimation in which a departed
citizen is held. Public funeral honors were awarded, and men of every
rank were eager to manifest their respect to his memory. He was buried
in the Church of St. James, at Antwerp, under the altar of his private
chapel, which was decorated with one of his own noble pictures.
REMBRANDT[4]
[Footnote 4: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess.]
By ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL
(1606-1669)
[Illustration: Rembrandt.]