THE RENAISSANCE PERIOD
Initiation of the Renaissance period--Newly born passion for
the antique--The Mæcenas and the collector--Plagiarians,
imitators and fakers--Cola di Rienzi, archæologist--A
collection of the fourteenth century--Artists, writers and
travellers hunting for antiques--Niccoli, the Medicis, Cardinal
Scarampi and others--The Medici collection dispersed by the
Florentine mob.
The Renaissance fakers of art have a somewhat nobler pedigree when
compared with those of other epochs. The early artists from whom they
sprang were not actual imitators of the Greeks and Romans, but were
inspired by them to reproduce that pagan expression which had deeply
affected their artistic temperament. Were these artists doing it purely
for art’s sake, or had they the hope that their work might pass as
antique? The answer to this is perhaps to be deduced from the character
of the age not yet fully ripe for artistic deception. The sentiment
for, and cult of, the antique were certainly growing during this early
part of the Renaissance; they did not come in a sudden burst, but had
been gradually developing in the previous years.
As a matter of fact, already in the transitional period which prepared
the highest artistic accomplishment of the Renaissance, collections and
collectors were becoming not only eclectic in taste, but seem to have
been guided by a real artistic fondness for the art of the past. It
is no more a question of solid silver and jewels, but of statues and
paintings. Catalogues no longer read like that of Charles VI of France:
“Inventoire des joyaux, vaiselle d’or et d’argent estant au Louvre et
en la Bastille à Paris appartenent à feu le roy Charles,” followed by
a monotonous enumeration of jewels, _vaiselle_, etc., but are like that
of the Medici collection, and include all the most varied expressions
of art--sculpture, paintings, medals, carving, cameos, rare jewels,
etc.
In the early part of the 14th century we know that Cola di Rienzi, the
Roman Tribune, collected inscriptions. One of his biographers tells
us that Cola “occupied himself every day with inscriptions cut into
marble, which were to be found round Rome. No one could decipher the
ancient epitaphs like him. He translated all the ancient writings
and gave the right interpretation to these marbles.” It was between
the years 1344-47 that Cola compiled a work on Roman inscriptions,
re-edited a century later by Signorili in his _Descriptio urbis Romæ_.
Oliver Forza, or Forzetta, who flourished about the year 1335,
seems to have owned the first complete collection of which we have
notice. Forzetta was a wealthy citizen of Treviso. We know that in
the above year of 1335 he came to Venice to buy several pieces for
his collection, manuscripts of the works of Seneca, Ovid, Sallust,
Cicero, Titus, Livius, etc., goldsmiths’ work, fifty medals that had
been promised him by a certain Simon, crystals, bronzes, four statues
in marble, others representing lions, horses, nude figures, etc. The
latter seem to have belonged to an earlier collector named Perenzolo.
To point out that even outside Italy taste had changed at the beginning
of the 15th century, we may quote the following description handed down
to us by Guillebert de Metz. It gives a full account of the collection
of Jacques Duchie, a Parisian, and indicates that at this early time
Paris must have possessed more than one of these collections of art and
curios.
“The house of master Duchie in the rue des Prouvelles,” says Guillebert
de Metz, “the door of which is carved with marvellous artistry; in the
courtyard there were peacocks and diverse fancy birds. The first hall
is adorned with diverse pictures and instructive texts fixed to and
hung on the walls. Another hall filled with all manner of instruments,
harps, organs, viols, guitars, psalters, and others, upon all of which
the said master Jacques knew how to play. Another hall was furnished
with chess tables and other diverse kinds of games, great in number.
_Item_, a beautiful chapel where there were stands to place books
upon, marvellously wrought, which had been sent from diverse places
far and near, to the right and to the left. _Item_, a study the walls
of which were covered with precious stones and with spices of sweet
odour. _Item_, several other rooms richly furnished with beds and with
ingeniously carved tables and adorned with rich hangings and cloth of
gold. _Item_, in another lofty room were a great number of cross-bows,
some of which were painted with beautiful figures. Here were standards,
banners, pennons, bows, pikes, swords, lances, battle-axes, iron and
lead armour, _pavais_, shields, bucklers, cannon and other engines,
with arms in abundance, and, briefly, there were also all manner of
war implements. _Item_, there was a window of wonderful workmanship,
through which you put a hollow iron mask through which you could look
out and speak to those outside, if occasion arose, without making
yourself known. _Item_, above the whole house was a square room with
windows on every side from which one could overlook the town. And when
it came to eating, food and drink were sent up by a pulley, because
it would have been too high up to carry. And above the pinnacles of
the house were beautiful gilt figures. This master Jacques Duchie was
a handsome man ‘_de honneste hebit_’ and very distinguished; he kept
well-mannered and well-trained servants of pleasing countenance, among
whom was a master carpenter who was constantly at work at the mansion.”
But Italy at the early part of this century was far more advanced.
There was no question here of collectors of dubious taste or odd fancy
for the simply curious; on the contrary we are confronted by real
connoisseurs and genuine lovers of art, intelligent and eager hunters
after all sorts of articles of virtu of past art; and also enlightened
art patrons who were munificent toward their contemporary painters,
sculptors and literary men.
Taste had changed, and some tendencies merely outlined at the time when
religion seemed to absorb all the activities of art, were now in full
growth. That which in the art of the Cosmati appeared to be a Byzantine
aping Roman art, all that seemed plagiarism of this classic art in
Nicola Pisano, takes an interestingly different course with Donatello,
Brunellesco, and all of those artists whom a wrong convention calls
the forerunners of the Renaissance instead of calling them the real
creators of that great artistic movement.
The passion for the antique was reviving. It was no longer a question
of sporadic cases but rather of a wide-spreading taste. Roman art was
in the air. Besides Rienzi, this cult of antique memories had already
claimed his friend Petrarch and the learned Dondi, a physician from
Padua, who visited Rome in the year 1375 to crown a long course of
study devoted to the antique. In a letter addressed to his friend
Guglielmo da Cremona, Giovanni proclaims the superiority of antique art
and is certain that modern artists will be the first to recognize the
fact and learn from it. Poor and hard-working, Dondi regrets that his
profession, his ailing patients, take so much of his time. But for the
profession, “I would rise as high as the stars,” he naively declares.
Ciriaco d’Ancona, another great eager collector and intelligent
hunter after fine things, visits the Orient and Greece in search of
manuscripts and relics of art; Francesco Squarcione comes from the
East, bringing to his native Padua fine Greek works, and is perhaps the
first artist to devote himself to antiques, just as Niccolo Niccoli, a
Florentine lover of art, represents at this time the learned amateur of
taste.
[Illustration:
_Photo:_ _Alinari_
DIOMEDES WITH THE PALLADIUM.
An imitation of the antique by Donatello’s School (?) and a free copy
of Niccoli’s cameo, a Greek work. Palazzo Riccordi, Florence.]
Niccoli is really one of the finest types of collectors. Born at a time
when Florence demanded that each citizen should belong to one or other
of the factions that kept civil war alive in the city, he nevertheless
managed to keep free from all civil strife. His house was the temple
of art and of neutrality. A friend of the powerful and wealthy Medicis,
who by the way trusted to his infallible eye as a connoisseur whenever
rare things were offered, Niccoli never took advantage of this unusual
position, but kept himself far from all ambition and was possessed
by the sole desire to collect art, study old manuscripts, and be an
ever-obliging helper to students. The friends and admirers who came in
flocks for advice, to borrow his rare manuscripts, or to visit his fine
emporium of art, were always well received. Niccolo Niccoli was born in
the year 1363. The son of a rich Florentine merchant he was forced in
his youth to give all his activities to commerce. Liberated from the
tie of a profession for which he had no call, he finally gave himself
to his cherished study of art and literature, attending the lessons
of Luigi Marsigli and Emanuele Chrysoloras. His studies were thus the
stepping-stone to the collecting of antiquities. In the year 1414 his
fame had already extended beyond the city walls. The Chancellor of the
city of Padua addressed him in a letter as “_clarissimus vetustatis
cultor_.” Notwithstanding his great wealth, such was his passion that
but for the discreet help of the Medici, the powerful Cosimo and his
brother Lorenzo, who became Niccoli’s benevolent bankers, on more
than one occasion this enlightened amateur might have been forced
to sell his precious collection, or at least do that which is most
hateful to the true lover of art, sell the best that years of patient
work had gathered together. What is most surprising is the fact that
Niccoli managed to make one of the finest collections of art of his
day almost without leaving his native city. We know of him as going
once to Padua to secure a rare manuscript of Petrarch, and later on
as accompanying his friend and protector, Cosimo Medici, to Verona,
a trip the latter undertook in the year 1420. With Cosimo again he
visited Rome, to be horrified at the mutilation inflicted upon the
Eternal City by barbarians of all ages and denominations. Yet without
moving from his native city, keen-eyed Niccoli managed to search the
world with the help of agents and friends--some of them, no doubt,
the practised servants of the Medicis. There was hardly a rare thing
discovered, no matter where, but the fact came to Niccoli’s ears, and
the “find” generally found its way to this enlightened Florentine’s
collection. Once he even had the fortune to discover a fine sample
of Greek art in Florence, a few steps from the door of his house. It
was the well-known cameo which he attributed to Polycletus and which
was afterwards so often reproduced by the artists of the Renaissance.
Niccoli discovered this rare piece of chalcedony hanging round the
neck of a street urchin. He asked him who his father was and found him
to be a poor workman. He went to see him, and to the man’s surprise
offered for the stone the round sum of 5 golden ducats. It is curious
to trace the migrations of Niccoli’s “calcedonio,” as the piece was
called later. When Cardinal Scarampi--the Patriarch of Aquileia and
the most passionate collector of his time--came to Florence, he went
to visit Niccoli and his collection. There he became so enamoured of
the “calcedonio” that he proposed to buy it. Niccoli, who could hardly
refuse the favour to the powerful and influential Cardinal, consented
to part with the rare piece for 200 ducats. Later on the “calcedonio”
entered the collection of Pope Paul II, to pass finally to that of
Lorenzo il Magnifico. In an inventory belonging to the Medici family
the gem is valued at 1500 golden florins.
Not dissimilar from certain modern and older types of collectors,
Niccoli was what might be called a strange character. While spending
large sums of money on his articles of virtu, he was almost
parsimonious in his household, although he liked to drink from rare
cups and set his table most richly with all sorts of precious vases.
One of his peculiarities was always to be dressed in pink. He had an
endless wardrobe of these rosy-hued garments and was as preoccupied
with them as he was with the rare objects of his collection. These
and other oddities were naturally the subject of gibes and sarcasm
from friends and unfriendly humanists, but Niccoli never answered
one written line, content to retaliate with his witty and cutting
tongue. He certainly had the best of it in this curious duel, for he
forced Aurispa and Filelfe to leave the town, and also, perhaps not
through his sarcastic tongue alone but through some Medicean intrigue,
compelled his enemies, Emanuel Chrysoloras, his former teacher, and
Guarino to make themselves very scarce in the city.
Niccolo Niccoli’s name brings us straight to that of his protectors,
the Medicis, the family who as collectors of art and fosterers of
literature and philosophy surpassed every one of their age.
Cardinal Scarampi’s collection, that of Pietro Barbe, afterwards Paul
II, and even the most complete of all, that of Niccoli, become rather
minor stars when compared with the artistic treasures gathered by the
Medicis for generations. This illustrious Florentine family seems to
have been for centuries nothing but a succession of patrons of the fine
arts.
“No art collection,” says Eugene Müntz in his _Les Collections des
Médicis_, “has more deeply influenced the art of the Renaissance, no
collection has passed through more trials than the one of this family.
Ten generations of enthusiastic amateurs have given themselves to its
enrichment; the greatest artists, Donatello, Ghiberti, Verrocchio, the
two Lippi, Ghirlandaio, Botticelli, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and
Raphael have sought inspiration and models in the Medici collection.
This while, by an unaccountable contradiction, all the revolutions that
troubled the city of Florence seem to have continually threatened the
existence of such an inestimable gathering.”
To be convinced of the extreme importance of the Medici collection
one has but to reflect that what now remains of it in the Florentine
museums or in well-known private hands is only the smallest part of
those past treasures, which has managed to survive the pillage of the
collection in the year 1494, when Piero Medici fled and the Medici
palace was sacked by the populace and the remaining effects sold
and dispersed by order of the Commune. What was later recovered by
the family was only a small part of the collection. An idea of the
magnitude of the Medici museum of art can be gained by perusing the
accurate inventories still remaining in the Florentine archives, the
list of the objects left by Cosimo the Elder to his son Piero and the
catalogue of the collection belonging to Lorenzo il Magnifico, and
finally the account of their money.
A brief study of the character of the two most important collectors of
the Medici family, Cosimo and Lorenzo il Magnifico, will enable us to
judge of the quality and tendencies of the amateur of the Renaissance.
The characteristics of the time in which Cosimo lived and the fact that
he had spent a long period in exile, a misfortune brought upon him by
jealousy, gave his inclinations as an amateur a different course from
what they might otherwise have had. Thus, while on the one hand Cosimo
never lost a chance to help artists and to acquire fine works of art,
he was shrewd enough to do so without ostentation, to avoid arousing
enmity from adversaries. But for this peculiar feeling Cosimo’s palace,
the present Palazzo Riccardi, one of the most sumptuous monuments of
Florence, might have been still more imposing, displaying greater
architectural wealth. It is known that Brunelleschi’s project was
privately preferred by Cosimo, but he did not dare to arouse old
jealousies by too sumptuous a display. Michelozzo’s design was chosen
as the more modest of the two and thus better fitted for the “bourgeois
prince” of Florence. Notwithstanding the necessity for caution even in
liberality, Cosimo encouraged Poggio Bracciolini and many others in
their intelligent search for manuscripts and rare parchments. He had
Niccoli as an invaluable adviser and helper, and left to his son Piero
one of the finest collections of antiques.
His grandson, Lorenzo il Magnifico, was more free-handed. Times had
changed, the Medici family, though without heraldic title, was now
master of the city, and the splendours of a man of taste, such as
Lorenzo, and his prodigal inclinations, knew no restraint whatever.
The difference between Cosimo and Lorenzo lay perhaps in the fact
that the former could not do half what he might have done. Comparing
Niccoli and Lorenzo, one might say that the former tallied more with
the modern interpretation of the word collector, while the latter, as
being far too eclectic a lover of all sorts of artistic expression, was
more cut out for the part of an enlightened Mæcenas, a prince-amateur
and a generous patron of art and literature. One can hardly even
imagine the Magnifico classifying his cameos as did Niccoli, or giving
a semi-scientific and rational order to his objects of virtu, but,
running on the same lines as Cosimo, Lorenzo invested in the rôle
of patron of art and lover of the antique, in which he displayed
such magnificence as to fully deserve his appellation. Such was the
character of these two Medicis, stated by contemporaries as being more
greedy for fame than money. An estimation fully justified, especially
in the case of Lorenzo, who in his _Ricordi_ notes that his father
and grandfather spent 663,755 florins in the space of thirty years
and rejoices in the fact. The sum quoted amounts to rather more than
a million francs; how many modern heirs would feel like Lorenzo il
Magnifico?
Like Niccoli and Cosimo, Lorenzo possessed the excellent quality, most
uncommon in a collector, of letting friends and admirers have full
benefit of his collection. More than the gratification of an egotistic
desire to possess rare and beautiful things, he saw in his artistic
pursuits a great means of education and a help to the artists of his
time.
According to the taste of his age, Lorenzo was very partial to Greek
and Roman art, to all that concerned past civilization. A page of
Plato or the beautiful form of a Greek marble aroused in him feelings
of emotion more than any modern expression. Not only did he fill his
palace with fine pieces of sculpture but his villas also appear to have
been replete with them.
“He was bursting with joy,” Valori, one of his contemporaries tells us,
“when he received the bust of Plato sent him by Girolamo Roscio.”
This passion for the antique, however, did not prevent Lorenzo from
encouraging the artists of his own time or from taking a deep interest
in their art. Eclectic in taste, as a collector he nevertheless had
some preferences. In a letter to his son Giulio, the future Leo X, on
his promotion to the Cardinalate, he gives advice as to the kind of art
which is most in keeping with ecclesiastical taste, but as a matter
of fact epitomizes his own penchant as a collector of art. Urging his
son to give preference to antique statuary, he discourages him from
becoming a collector of jewels, tapestries and embroideries. “Love in
preference,” he recommends, “fine antique things and books”--_qualche
gentilezza di cose antiche_.
Lorenzo the Magnificent seems to stand apart from the lovers of art
of his time not only on account of his culture and intelligence, his
broad eclectic views and genuine cult of every expression of beauty,
but as being a rare type of the grand seigneur, æsthete and humanist.
Paul II is a passionate collector of art, but more a scholar than an
artist, with him knowledge is supreme; Cardinal Scarampi is, as Ciriaco
D’Ancona calls him, an archæologist, and Niccoli, as an eager and
intelligent searcher of objects, would make a good type of antiquary of
our day, but Lorenzo displays interest in every kind of elevated human
expression; his character seems to conform to his noble motto, _Nul ne
sait qui n’essaye_ (nobody knows who does not try).
His reputation as a connoisseur and expert in art spread afar. Princes
and monarchs asked his advice. Lorenzo is not only prodigal in this
respect, but also in the artistic things of his collection which he
sends as presents. To Mathias Corvinus he sent a bust by Verrocchio, to
the Count of Madaloni of Naples a fine horse’s head--now in the museum
of that city--a rare piece of work which until lately was taken for
Greek but is now attributed to Donatello. The Duke of Calabria asks
him for an architect, and he sends him one; in the year 1488 he sends
to Ferdinand, king of Naples, a fine plan of a palace by Giuliano da
Sangallo, and later he introduces Leonardo da Vinci to Lodovico il
Moro, Filippino Lippi to Cardinal Carafa, Sansovino to the king of
Portugal. In connection with odd requests that came to Lorenzo from
princes and monarchs there is a queer one from Louis XI. The French
king asks the Magnificent to lend him for a while the miraculous ring
of the Florentine patron saint, San Zanobi, pledging himself to restore
the ring to the owners--very likely the Girolami of Florence--and
begging Lorenzo to tell him how and in what way it must be worn to
perform the miracle, cure his gout and restore him to health.
Through his love of art and his munificence towards artists Lorenzo
became practically bankrupt, and certainly had no scruples about using
public funds for his private purposes. Not that he was fond of personal
display, on the contrary he detested outlays that had no public utility
or did not foster some progress.
Rinuccini, another of his contemporaries, tells us of Lorenzo’s
indifference to personal luxury and of his dislike for society
functions. “All the things that in olden days,” says Rinuccini, “gave
grace and reputation to the citizens; like weddings, dances and fêtes
and handsome clothes, he condemned them all and did away with them
through his example and his words.”
A detailed description of his character as a collector and the quality
of his passion is not so eloquent of Lorenzo’s particular penchant as
his _Ricordi_. Take, for instance, these words concerning his mission
to Rome at the elevation to the Holy See of Cardinal Della Rovere. “In
the month of September, 1471, I was sent as ambassador to attend the
coronation of Pope Sixtus. I was the recipient of many honours in Rome
and brought back from the city two antique busts, the portraits of
Augustus and Agrippa, given to me by the Pope. I also brought with me
the carved cup of chalcedony and many cameos and medals.”
It must be said that in forming his collection the Magnifico never lost
sight of Rome and its treasures. He had many agents in the Eternal
City excavating and looking for antiques to add to his collection.
His intercourse with these accomplices, the ruses employed, the adroit
management of influential prelates opposed to Lorenzo’s schemes, and
grieved that rare things should leave Rome, form an interesting chapter
of diplomacy.
Glyptography was given preference in Lorenzo’s collection. Some of
his cameos and engraved precious stones are now the rarest things in
our modern museums. Then came a fine collection of coins and medals,
23,000 pieces in all, and another of Etruscan vases. His statues, which
Verrocchio and other artists were often charged to repair, filled to
overflowing his palazzo in Florence and his villas.
To his assistance came not only special agents, but friends as well.
A magnificent vase was obtained by Lorenzo from Venice, and it was
through the mediation of his literary friend Politiano that the rare
find got into the Magnifico’s collection. Politiano writes from Venice
to his friend and patron on June 20th, 1491, that Messer Zaccharia has
just received from Greece _una terra cotta antiquissima_ and that he
believes it to be worthy of Lorenzo’s collection. Antonio Yvane writing
to Donato Acciaioli says that a little statue of Hercules has been
found at Luni, and that it and other antiques excavated are to be sent
to Lorenzo.
One of his agents sent him a marble statue with an Etruscan
inscription; from Siena, Lorenzo receives a bust that sends him into
raptures, and he immediately wishes to buy it. To give an idea of his
appreciation and willingness to pay whatever it might be worth, we
quote part of his letter dated May 15th, 1490, addressed to Andrea
da Foiano then at Siena. “Ser Andrea, I received your letter last
night, and with it the head which you sent me and which, on account
of its being fine and having much of the antique beauty, I would most
willingly buy from him who owns it, if he will part with it for what it
is worth.”
Though there is no document to support the fact, this bust is possibly
the one that P. della Valle says was sent from Siena to Lorenzo,
representing a head of Jupiter, of such a character that beheld from
one side it had a benign expression, and from the other a terrifying
one. Naples also contributed its share to the Medicean collection,
from whence arrive the portraits of Faustina and Scipio Africanus, a
fine bust of Hadrian and a sleeping Cupid. These last two statues were
conveyed to him by Giuliano da Sangallo, who under Lorenzo’s directions
had asked them of the king of Naples.
As a collector and type of antiquary not disdaining a good bargain,
and perhaps influenced by the lineage of shrewd bankers, from which
he sprang, Lorenzo made more than one good stroke of business. From
Pope Sixtus IV he managed to buy the artistic treasure of the Holy See
at such a ridiculous price as to arouse protests from the Pontifical
accountants. The deal, which was carried through by Lorenzo’s uncle,
Giovanni Tornabuoni, caused a scandal that only the Pope’s authority
managed to silence, and the Medici collection became enriched by many
fine pieces. Among them, the so-called “Tazza Farnese,” now one of
the finest pieces of the Naples Museum, to which the inventory of the
collection gives a value of 10,000 ducats, and the rare Greek work
known as the “Rape of the Palladium,” rated by the same inventory at
the sum of 1500 ducats. This celebrated cameo had formerly belonged to
Niccoli. Donatello copied it for one of his medallions of the Medici
palace. There were other dealings between the Medici and the Holy See,
but we fail to know how advantageous they may have been for either
side. In the year 1460 the Medici sold a piece of tapestry to Pope Pius
II for the not inconsiderable sum of 1200 golden ducats, and later on,
through the above-quoted agent, Giovanni Tornabuoni, in the year 1484
several yards of common tapestry were sold to the Pope by the Medicis.
We have spoken at greater length of Lorenzo il Magnifico as he appears
to us to symbolize the type of Mæcenas and collector of his epoch,
but all Italian princes were more or less art lovers and collectors
at that time, as well as being shrewd bargain drivers on occasion.
As an example of this, one is led straight to Isabella d’Este and
her hard dealings with Mantegna. Intelligent, keen-eyed and a good
connoisseur, Isabella had set her heart on a _Faustina antica_ in the
possession of the Paduan painter, but did not wish to pay the price
demanded by the artist. Negotiations were carried on for quite a time.
Knowing Mantegna’s straightened circumstances, Isabella coolly and
almost cruelly waited the favourable moment to take best advantage of
the artist’s distressing situation. Pressed by all sorts of needs,
the aged artist finally decides to part with his best antique, the
portrait of Faustina, a work of art he adored. Conscious of having
served the house of Gonzaga most faithfully and knowing Isabella’s
intelligence and admiration for his bust of “Faustina antica,” as he
calls it, he determined to offer her the work for a hundred ducats. In
his letter dated from Mantua, January 13th, 1506, he tells Isabella
all his troubles and how hard it is for him to part with his cherished
bust, but also how glad he would be if she will take it, or as he says:
“Since I have to deprive myself of it, I would rather you had it than
any other Lord or Lady in the world.” To this pitiful letter, ending
with the touching appeal: “I recommend myself to your Excellency many
and many times,” Isabella replies later by sending one of her agents,
whose letter to her is full of an astute spirit of bargaining and runs
as follows:
“In compliance with what your Signoria writes me, I will call to-morrow
morning on Messer Andrea Mantegna and will act as shrewdly as possible
about the Faustina (_farò l’opera con più destro e acconcio modo
saperò_) and will inform your Excellency of the result at once.
Giovanni Calandra Mantua, July 14th, 1506.”
A second letter from Giovanni Calandra informs Isabella that the artist
is obdurate as to the price. That though he is in extreme need he hates
to part with his _Faustina di marmo antica_ and asks pardon for the
refusal, that he hopes to find his price with Monsignor Vescovo di
Gonzaga, who has the reputation, Calandra states, to be keen on these
things. Dealings through the agent go on, till one day the latter
announces to the Marchesa Isabella Gonzaga that she has become the
possessor of the _Faustina antica_, which is already shipped to her
(_Mando per burchiello a posta la Faustina a S.V._), provided she
agrees to the price; if not the agent begs that the bust may be sent
back, in accordance with his promise given to the painter, should the
price not be agreed upon (_acciò possi disobbligar la fede data a
M. Andrea Mantegna_). Negotiations between Isabella Gonzaga and the
penurious artist who had covered with glory the prince he had served
and had decorated with magnificent frescoes the room of Isabella’s
mansion, lasted from January 13th, 1506, to August 2nd of the same year.
These are but a few incidents of the day. All Italy was collecting.
Excitement over antiques had now become a mania, and this is perhaps
the best justification for imitators to have turned into fakers.
At this period art collecting ranged from its highest votaries, Lorenzo
Medici, the Duke of Urbino, Este, Gonzaga, Sforza, Arragona, down to
common citizens who were earnest and intelligent collectors.
One thing to be noted in this epoch is the total absence of the
parvenu collector so fully represented in the Roman period. There
may be an occasional case of snobbery, like that of Cardinal di San
Giorgio, who refused to keep in his house an excellent imitation of
Michelangelo, because, though having deceived him and many others, it
was not actually genuine, although far better than some of the rubbish
of his collection which contained indiscriminatingly anything that had
been unearthed in Rome, but a Tongilius, a Euctus, and above all a
Trimalcho, do not seem to have existed in the Renaissance period. If
they did, they were surely minor characters and quite outside the world
of real amateurs.