throws his weight forward on bending knee, putting his ear to the
upper cymbal. He is evidently amusing himself with the lingering
vibrations of the metal. The flower-crowned boy bringing up the rear
smiles at us cheerily, as he steps along, clashing his cymbals with
right good-will. The children in the background seem to take their
task more seriously, as if sharing the spirit of the leader.
It is clear that our artist found the models for his figures in the
streets of Florence. These round-faced children with their large
mouths are not pretty enough for imaginary types. They are perfectly
natural, and that is why we like them.
The grouping is skilfully planned to give unity to the composition
without any stiffness. There are no awkward gaps between the figures,
but the lines flow from one to another, binding them together. The
half kneeling posture of the child in the middle makes diagonal lines
to unite the leader with the boy in the rear. We notice in the drawing
the same sweep of line which we have admired in Donatello's bronze
reliefs of angels. The three figures in front are modelled in high
relief, and in beautiful curves; the children in the rear are in low
relief.
The work of Luca della Robbia was not confined to marble. Soon after
completing the organ gallery he made a bronze door for the interior of
the cathedral. He is best known for his work in enamelled terra-cotta,
of which we shall hear more in later chapters.
[Footnote 19: See Chapter III. in the volume on _Greek Sculpture_ in
the Riverside Art Series.]
[Footnote 20: Psalm lxviii., verse 25, and 1 Chronicles, chapter
xiii., verse 8.]
[Footnote 21: St. Matthew, chapter xxvi., verse 30.]
[Footnote 22: The pontificate of Gregory I. was from 590 to 604.]
VI
TOMB OF ILARIA DEL CARRETTO
(_Detail_)
BY JACOPO DELLA QUERCIA
A certain marquis of Carretto, living in Lucca at the close of the
fourteenth century, had a daughter named Ilaria. Ilaria was like Helen
of Troy, "a daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely
fair."[23] Her face was delicately cut in a patrician mould, and she
carried her head with the air of a princess. The marquis must have
been proud of his beautiful daughter, and as she grew into womanhood
he looked about for a suitable match for her. There was little romance
about marriages in those days, and when a rich widower sought Ilaria's
hand, she was doubtless thought by all a very fortunate maiden.
Her husband, Paolo Guinigi, was the signor or lord of the city of
Lucca, and though somewhat despotic in temper was at least without
vices. He was besides the richest man in Italy. In his treasury, says
the historian, "diamonds and rubies, emeralds and pearls, were counted
by hundreds." The palace awaiting the bride was magnificently
furnished. There was linen from Paris and other French cities,
exquisite in quality and in stores so abundant as to delight the heart
of a housewife. The walls were hung with tapestries of many colors
woven in Arras. Priceless vessels of gold and silver adorned the
table. Nor were signs of learning lacking. There was a library, well
stocked with the works of classical authors, written in manuscript in
the manner of the times.
So far as surroundings make for happiness Ilaria may well have been a
happy woman. We like to fancy her queenly figure moving through the
stately apartments of the palace or on the green terraces of the
garden. But she did not long enjoy the splendors of her surroundings,
for two years after her marriage she died. Her husband then ordered of
the sculptor Jacopo della Quercia a marble tomb to be placed in the
cathedral. On the sarcophagus lay the portrait figure of the lady
herself; the sides were richly carved with cherubs holding festoons of
flowers, and above was a canopy.
Ilaria lies with hands crossed just where they would naturally fall in
her sleep.[24] Her feet rest against a little dog, which, according to
the old writer, Vasari, was an emblem of conjugal fidelity. It is
surely no harm to fancy that the little creature was the lady's pet.
The gown is girdled high, and falling in long, straight folds, is
wrapped about the feet. Over this is worn a mantle made with large,
loose sleeves, and a high flaring collar, which comes well up under
the chin.[25]
[Illustration: DETAIL OF TOMB OF ILARIA DEL CARRETTO (JACOPO DELLA
QUERCIA) _Cathedral, Lucca_]
Our illustration shows only the head and shoulders of the figure. The
head rests on a pillow in a hollow shaped to receive it, and the
shoulders are supported by a second and larger cushion underneath.
Ilaria's waving hair is parted over the high brow, and brought down on
each side the face, completely concealing the ears. A few short
tendrils have escaped, and curl daintily over the forehead. She wears
a large flower-wound wreath or crown, set aslant over the shapely
head. It may be that this is a sort of head-dress worn in her time. No
one can look at the face without thinking of a flower, and most of all
of the lily. The mouth is moulded in exquisite curves; Ilaria was,
indeed, a bewitching woman.
Had the fair marchioness lived to middle age her fortunes would have
been sadly altered. In 1430 there was a political upheaval in Lucca,
and Guinigi was driven from the city.[26] His palace was pillaged, and
the mob even laid desecrating hands upon Ilaria's tomb. An attempt to
remove it seems to have been frustrated, and it was dropped on the
floor of the transept, where it now stands. It lost, however, the
canopy and one ornamented side of the base.
As a work of art, Ilaria's tomb has been greatly admired by critics.
Even in our little picture we can, with no great training, see how
well the sculptor has rendered the texture of the hair and the
softness of the plump chin. Even the tassels on the cushion are carved
with clever imitative skill. We must be careful to look at the face
just as the sculptor intended it to be seen, not upright, but lying
horizontally. It is only thus that we get the significance of the
beautiful continuous line across forehead and nose. The line of the
head-dress exactly follows that of the hair, and is drawn at the same
angle as the edge of the collar, which it meets. In the triangular
space thus formed is fitted the lovely profile of the face. Ruskin has
written with much enthusiasm of the merits of Ilaria's tomb. From it,
he declared, one may receive "unerring canon of what is evermore
lovely and right in the dealing of the art of man with his fate and
his passions." Still more helpful is his interpretation of the feeling
which the sculptor has conveyed. After first explaining that "every
work of the great Christian schools expresses primarily conquest over
death," he shows that this particular tomb has "all the peace of the
Christian eternity." We may see, he says, "that the damsel is not dead
but sleepeth; yet as visibly a sleep that shall know no ending until
the last day break and the last shadows flee away."[27]
[Footnote 23: Tennyson's "A Dream of Fair Women."]
[Footnote 24: Not "folded below her bosom," nor "laid on her breast,"
as in two familiar descriptions.]
[Footnote 25: That this mantle was a prevailing style of the period
among the aristocracy, we judge from an old Spanish painting, in which
King Ferdinand of Aragon and his queen both wear it. The picture is
reproduced in Carderara's _Iconografia Espanola_, and copied in
Planche's _Cyclopedia of Costumes_.]
[Footnote 26: The exact date is here given because of the vagueness of
some writers who refer to the event as "not many years" and "within
twenty years" after Ilaria's death in 1405.]
[Footnote 27: Quoted by Sydney Colvin in an article on Jacopo della
Quercia, in the _Portfolio_, 1883. See also _Modern Painters_, Part
III.]
VII
MADONNA AND CHILD
(_Detail of lunette_)
BY LUCA DELLA ROBBIA
In reading the gospel narrative of the life of Jesus we are glad to
learn something of his mother Mary. Her life had some peculiar
hardships to test the strength of her character. It was a strange lot
for a mother to have to tend her babe in the manger of an inn, but
such was Mary's experience. At the time of Jesus's birth she and
Joseph were in Bethlehem, whither they had come to pay their taxes.
There were many other people there on the same errand, and the inn was
so crowded that the young mother had to find quarters in the stable.
While the child was still very young a terrible danger threatened his
life. An order went forth from King Herod to slay all the young
children of Bethlehem. Still the mother's courage did not fail. She
arose by night, and, taking her babe, fled with her husband into
Egypt. Returning at length to their home in Nazareth, she watched her
boy's growth, and kept all his sayings in her heart.
When Jesus entered upon his ministry Mary was the first to show
perfect confidence in her son.[28] She seems to have followed him
whenever she could.[29] Her courage sustained her even in the hour of
his agony, and we read how she stood with his disciples at the foot of
the cross.[30]
It is this woman of quiet fortitude whom we see in Luca della Robbia's
bas-relief of the Madonna and Child. We are impressed at once with a
sense of her strength and poise of character. It is precisely such as
fits the story of her life. Steadying her little boy with both hands,
she turns her face in the direction in which he is looking. The Child
seems to stand on a sort of balustrade in front of his mother. With
feet wide apart he holds himself erect in a firm posture. His right
hand is raised in a gesture of benediction. With his left he grasps
firmly a long scroll bearing the Latin inscription, "Ego sum Lux
Mundi" (I am the Light of the World).
Both mother and child seem to belong to the happy, every-day working
world. Mary has the straight figure, full throat, and square shoulders
of a Tuscan peasant girl. Her only aristocratic feature is the shapely
hand. She holds her chin level, like a country maiden used to carrying
burdens on the head. It may be that the artist had seen her like in
some market-place in Florence. The boy too has the square shoulders
and sturdy frame of a child of the people.
[Illustration: MADONNA AND CHILD (LUCA DELLA ROBBIA) _Shop in the Via
dell' Agnolo, Florence_]
Some artists have tried to give a supernatural and ethereal beauty to
the mother and child. Others have represented them enthroned in
splendor like a queen and prince receiving their court. Luca della
Robbia went to no such extremes. There is nothing morbid or
sentimental in his art: nor does he care for any worldly pomp and
ceremonial. His religious ideals were very simple, suited to the needs
of common life. The Christ child here is a dear little human baby, and
the Madonna is the poet's ideal of "a creature not too bright or good
for human nature's daily food."[31]
The bas-relief is one of the famous works in enamelled terra-cotta,
known as "Della Robbia ware." The idea of overlaying clay with a
glazing was not original with Luca della Robbia, but he seems to have
been the first to apply it to sculpture. In his own day he was looked
upon as a great inventor, and his works were very popular. The
material was inexpensive, and lent itself readily to all sorts of
decorative purposes. Its beauty, moreover, was of a lasting quality.
While paintings fade, the Della Robbia ware, "gem like, shall as very
gems endure."[32] The only injury to which it is liable is the
breaking off of some projecting portions. In our picture we see that a
fragment is broken out of the child's wrist. Fortunately, however,
there are no defects in the important parts of the work.
The figures are in the centre of a lunette or semi-circular
composition, with an adoring angel on each side holding a jar of
lilies. The piece is set up over a doorway on the outside of a
building in a narrow street in Florence. The location explains the
attitude of the mother and child. If they looked directly out of the
picture as in an altar-piece, there would be but one place, on the
opposite side of the street, where the passer-by could meet their
eyes. As it is, they turn their faces toward the vista of the street
as if to welcome the approaching wayfarer. While still a long way off
one feels the cheerful influence of their gaze. Even when coming from
the opposite direction it is pleasant, after passing the door, to know
that the friendly eyes follow us on our way.
The workmanship of Luca is seen in the artistic qualities of the
sculpture. There was a severe simplicity in his drawing of the outline
and draperies which contrasted with the more elaborate work of his
followers. Luca was also a close student of nature, and drew his
materials from the world about him.
[Footnote 28: At the Marriage of Cana, St. John, chapter ii., verses
3-5.]
[Footnote 29: St. John ii., verse 12, and St. Matthew, chapter xii.,
verse 46.]
[Footnote 30: St. John, chapter xix., verse 25.]
[Footnote 31: Wordsworth's "She was a Phantom of Delight."]
[Footnote 32: From some verses by Edith M. Thomas, "A Della Robbia
Garland," printed in _The Critic_, December, 1901.]
VIII
THE MEETING OF ST. FRANCIS AND ST. DOMINICK
BY ANDREA DELLA ROBBIA
In the beginning of the thirteenth century two men living in different
countries of Europe were struck simultaneously with the same idea.
They were St. Dominick, the Spaniard, and St. Francis, the Italian,
and each determined to found a new religious order.[33] Hitherto the
members of religious orders had shut themselves up in the solitude of
monasteries and convents. In the new plan they were to mingle freely
with the people, calling themselves brothers, or friars.
The first object of the Dominicans was to be preachers, and they were
called Frati Predicatori. The Franciscans took the humbler name of the
Frati Minori, or lesser brothers. The members of both orders were
bound by a vow of poverty to possess nothing of their own. Like the
disciples whom Jesus sent out, they were to carry neither purse nor
scrip, but beg their food and raiment on their way. It is for this
that they are called mendicant orders.
The affairs of their orders brought both St. Dominick and St. Francis
to Rome at the same time. The two men met and embraced, each seeing in
the other a kindred spirit. It was proposed to unite the two bodies in
one, and St. Dominick favored this plan. He had won but a few
followers, and St. Francis already had many. The Brother Minor however
was sure that such union would be impossible. The two men were indeed
of widely contrasting characters. St. Dominick was a scholar, a man of
fiery and energetic temperament. St. Francis was unlettered, but his
mind was poetic and imaginative, his nature gentle and humble. St.
Dominick was known as the "Hammer of the Heretics," St. Francis as the
"Father of the Poor."
A bas-relief by Andrea della Robbia represents the meeting of St.
Dominick with St. Francis.[34] It is apparently the artist's
intention to emphasize the kinship rather than the contrast between
the two men. Both have the thin faces and sharp features of the
ascetic. Their shaven faces and tonsured heads heighten the
resemblance between them. Both have the same type of hand, with the
long fingers which are characteristic of a sensitive nature.[35] A
disc over the head of each symbolizes his saintliness.
[Illustration: MEETING OF ST. FRANCIS AND ST. DOMINICK (ANDREA DELLA
ROBBIA) _Loggia of San Paolo, Florence_]
Naturally the characters of the founders were impressed upon their
respective orders. The Dominicans were more aggressive in their
methods and zealous in persecuting all forms of heresy. The
Franciscans, on the other hand, strove for the higher life of
sanctity. The members of each order wore a distinctive dress, such as
we see in our picture. The Franciscan habit was at first gray, and
afterwards dark brown; it is gray in the bas-relief. It consisted of a
plain tunic with long loose sleeves and a scanty cape to which a hood
was attached. A knotted cord fastened the garment around the waist, to
remind the wearer that the body is a beast which should be subdued by
a halter. The Dominican habit was a white woollen gown fastened about
the waist with a girdle. A white scapular was worn over this, and over
all, a black cloak with a hood.
We see at once in our picture that St. Dominick is the elder of the
two men. There was really a difference of twenty years in their ages,
but the artist has made it less. It is as if each, upon seeing the
other approach, had hastened forward with outstretched hands. They
stand now face to face with interlocked arms in mutual contemplation.
It is a moment of perfect understanding. With widely different ideas
of ways and means, they have at heart a single common aim. Both are
called to the same great work, and each feels strengthened by the
contact.
The profile of St. Francis shows the sensitive lines of his face.
Tradition tells us that he was a man of more than average height, with
black eyes, and soft sonorous voice. His expression here is serene, as
one would expect of the gentle friar who called all the beasts his
brethren, and talked with the birds as familiar companions. St.
Dominick has a more strenuous countenance, and is perhaps more deeply
moved than the other. He leans forward and peers into St. Francis's
face with an expression of great tenderness. One is reminded of a
beautiful verse in one of the Hebrew psalms (the eighty-fifth), "Mercy
and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each
other."
The artistic qualities of this relief place it among the best works by
Andrea della Robbia. Only a skilful artist could have rendered the
draperies with such grace and simplicity. They have been compared with
the draperies of the painters Raphael and Bartolommeo. It is said that
the faces were left unglazed in order that all the lines of the
modelling might be preserved.
[Footnote 33: The lives of both saints are related in _The Golden
Legend_. In Caxton's translation (Temple Classics) see volume iv., p.
172, for St. Dominick, and volume v., p. 215, for St. Francis. Mrs.
Jameson's _Legends of the Monastic Orders_ contains an admirable
account of the character and work of the two men. _The Little Flowers
of St. Francis_ is a series of legends collected about two hundred
years after his death. There is an English translation by Abby Langdon
Alger. Sabatier's _Life of St. Francis_ is an exhaustive biography.]
[Footnote 34: A tradition that St. Francis and St. Dominick met in
Florence, on the site of the present Loggia of S. Paolo, accounts for
the placing of this bas-relief there. See the Misses Horner's _Walks
in Florence_, vol. i., p. 448.]
[Footnote 35: The reader who is familiar with the typical figure of
St. Francis in sacred art may miss the sign of the wound print (the
stigmata) in his hand. Here Andrea is historically accurate, as the
vision of St. Francis occurred four years after the confirmation of
the Order.]
IX
ST. GEORGE
BY DONATELLO
In the third century of the present era lived the Christian knight
George of Cappadocia. Going forth after the usual knightly fashion in
search of adventures, he came to the province of Libya. The country
was at that time ravaged by a dragon whose lair was a great pond near
the royal city of Silene. When the monster came forth the air was
filled with the poisonous vapor of his breath. To insure the safety of
the city two sheep were daily given to feed him.
At length the supply failed, and now the people had to give their own
children. The victims were chosen by lot, and after many had perished
the lot fell upon the beautiful princess Cleodolinda. The king
besought the people to spare his daughter, offering gold and silver
for her ransom. They would have none of it, but declared that the
princess must meet her fate. Arrayed as for her bridal, she was led
out to the place where the dragon was wont to come for his prey.
While she stood here weeping, St. George chanced to ride by and
inquired the cause of her distress. Hearing her pitiable story he
assured her she had nothing to fear. Just then the dragon came in
sight, and the knight, charging full upon him, wounded him with his
sword. Then taking the girdle of theprincess, he tied it about the
neck of the beast and led him into the city. The people all came out
to see the wonder, and in the presence of a great company St. George
smote off the dragon's head.
The further adventures of the knight were in behalf of the Christians,
who were persecuted by the Emperor Diocletian. Selling all that he
had, he gave it to the poor and boldly denounced the pagans. All sorts
of tortures were devised to force him to renounce his faith, but in
every persecution he was miraculously preserved from harm. At length
the provost caused him to be beheaded, and offering his last prayers
St. George went to his death.
In our statue St. George is represented as a warrior standing at rest
while he surveys the enemy. His young figure is as straight as an
arrow. The litheness of his body is apparent even through his armor.
He holds his head erect in conscious power, yet with no arrogance.
Evidently he measures the difficulty carefully, for he seems to knit
his brows as he looks abroad. He has a gentle face, but it is
thoroughly masculine.
[Illustration: ST. GEORGE (DONATELLO) _National Museum, Florence_]
The hands are beautiful, and full of character, large and flexible.
The left one rests on a shield which bears the sign of the cross. The
armor, we see, has a more than literal significance. This is the
"shield of faith" wherewith the Christian shall be able "to quench all
the fiery darts of the wicked." St. George is the impersonation of the
soldier who wars "not against flesh and blood, but against
principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of
this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."[36]
The figure naturally suggests comparison with antique sculpture. We
are reminded of Apollo or Hermes as the Greeks loved to represent
them.[37] The beautiful head with its curling hair is indeed that of a
god. In the graceful attitude also, the sculptor, Donatello, has
perfectly expressed the sense of repose which was characteristic of
Greek sculpture. We note, however, that while a Greek statue would
have been nude St. George is clad in armor. The expression of the
countenance is, moreover, quite foreign to the Greek temper. Those
knitted brows show a strenuousness of character incompatible with the
serenity of the gods.
The statue of St. George, like that of St. Philip, was originally made
to fill one of the niches on the outside of Or San Michele. Below it
was a bas-relief representing the slaying of the dragon. The work was
the gift of the Guild of Sword Makers and Armorers, whose patron saint
was the Knight of Cappadocia. In an exposed position on the church the
precious marble was injured by the weather. Accordingly it was removed
to a museum, and a bronze copy was set up in its place.
The popularity of St. George is by no means confined to Italy. In
England too his memory is held in great respect. "For England and St.
George" was an old battle-cry which linked the name of the patron
saint with that of the native land. His character is our ideal of the
Christian hero, chivalrous towards the weak, courageous in danger, and
devoted above all things to the service of God.
Donatello's statue embodies this ideal, and is his highest imaginative
work. Being chiefly interested in the study of expression, he often
seemed to care very little whether his subjects were beautiful or not.
Here beauty and expressiveness are united.
There is an old tradition that Michelangelo, passing one day the
church of Or San Michele, paused before the St. George and exclaimed
"Cammina!" that is, "Forward, march!" The story is doubtless purely
fictitious, but it shows how lifelike the statue appears. As an old
writer (Vasari) put it, "Life seems to move within that stone."
[Footnote 36: Ephesians, chapter vi., verses 16 and 12.]
[Footnote 37: See chapters VI. and XI. in the volume on _Greek
Sculpture_, in the Riverside Art Series.]
X
BAMBINO
BY ANDREA DELLA ROBBIA