SIXTEENTH-CENTURY JEWELLERY (GENERAL)
ITALY, SIXTEENTH CENTURY
Great ostentation and external splendour were the chief features of
the Renaissance. So, if the jewellery of this time appears to us more
magnificent than that of any other, this superiority is but an indirect
result of the intermediate causes which find a place in all that is
included under the term Renaissance.
In enumerating certain characteristics that distinguish
sixteenth-century jewellery from that of other epochs, the enormous
quantity used may first of all be noted. A general increase in wealth
had taken place, but in the comparative rarity of opportunity for
investments, it was still customary to keep gold and precious stones
secreted,[122] or, as was more generally done, make them into ornaments
of small compass and easily convertible into hard cash.
[122] This tendency is as common as ever in the East, particularly
among high-class natives of India, on account of the prevailing belief
that the only safe way to invest money is to purchase precious stones
and similar articles of intrinsic or sterling value. (See _Nineteenth
Century_, LVIII, p. 290, 1905, "The origin of money from ornament.")
Coupling this with the magnificent style of living during the
Renaissance, we need feel less surprise at the extraordinary abundance
of jewellery which we read of in contemporary chronicles, and find
represented in the utmost variety on the portraits of the period. Men
of solid reputation and serious disposition seem, equally with women, to
have fallen victims to the reigning passion for jewellery.
If we are at first inclined to wonder at the number of Cinquecento
jewels that have survived, we can more readily understand that they
represent the merest fraction of what formerly existed, when we take
into consideration all the risks of destruction such fragile and
precious objects have undergone--objects by their nature the very first
to disappear. Monetary pressure caused by war, the division of property,
and many other events were fraught with danger to objects in the
precious metals. Change of taste, almost as rapid as that in dress,
which has caused the last fashion but one to be the least of all
desired, necessitated the repeated refashioning of jewellery.
Notwithstanding their perfection, the exquisite productions of the
sixteenth century were unable to resist the fatal influence of fashion,
and were largely broken up towards the termination of the seventeenth
century, when brilliant enamels and artistically wrought gold were less
in request, and the precious metals became entirely subservient to the
stones, for which they acted simply as settings. On the other hand,
their small size, which has rendered them easy to conceal, accounts for
the preservation of some examples, while mere chance, or perhaps an
historical association, oft-times solely traditional, has saved others
from destruction.
The finest productions of the artificers of antiquity transcend in
abstract beauty of design everything, perhaps, that has since been
produced. Those of the mediæval craftsmen possess a charm and beauty
impossible to deny, and a peculiar _naïveté_ and ingenuousness of their
own, to be looked for in vain elsewhere. It must be acknowledged,
however, that the jewels of the Renaissance, the receptacle of every
variety of adornment by way of precious stones, pearls, and enamels that
the goldsmith could devise in order to enrich them, are in their own
manner incomparable. It may be that some err so far on the side of
over-elaboration that they lose the balance and dignity of harmonious
design, but the majority possess qualities rarely found in combination
save at this remarkable period--a richness of form, boldness of
conception, and extraordinary refinement of technique. There is no
species of technical work, whether it was a case of hammering, chasing,
or casting, or, above all, enamelling, that was not then brought to
perfection. But the splendours of the Renaissance must not blind us to
the efforts of the preceding age; for thorough though the change was
from the style of Gothic art, the jewellers of the Renaissance were
deeply indebted to the mediæval traditions which they had by their side
to aid them in developing their artistic conceptions.
Another noticeable point with regard to the jewellery of this period is
its astonishing variety. Its decline, and reduction to a monotonous
repetition of design, coincides with the disappearance of those artists
who possessed the universality of a man like Cellini, and with the
division of labour characteristic of modern art and industry.
In addition to the enormous quantity used, a distinctive feature of
Renaissance ornaments is the preference shown for colour. The placing
together of bright-coloured gems with delicately worked gold invariably
enriched with polychrome enamels is the fundamental motive of the
jewellery of the period. So admirable was the craftsman's taste that
each jewel forms in itself a scheme perfect in design and colour, and
the rubies, emeralds, and sapphires introduced for the sake of their
colour values, serve the composition as a whole without overwhelming it;
while the diamond, which comprised almost the sole material of the
jewellery of later times, was used only for purposes of contrast. It
cannot be said that precious stones had entirely forfeited their
mediæval reputation at the period of the revival; but as jewellery was
beginning to assume generally the character of mere ornament, the stones
which enriched it were naturally chosen rather with an eye to their
decorative qualities than for any fancied virtues they might be
considered to possess.
One of the charms of this old jewellery lies in the setting of its
stones, which are mostly table-cut, and fixed in square pyramidal
collets. The usual process of setting was to rub the upper edges of the
closed and box-like collet over the setting edge of the stone, and
occasionally to lay over this an additional ornament in imitation of
claws. This manner of beating up or pressing the edges of the collet
over the faceted sides of the stone is extremely pleasing, for the
stone, with its colour thrown up by a foil or _paillon_, harmonises
admirably with the somewhat irregular frame of gold that surrounds it.
The art of enamelling, especially where figures are represented in
full relief, attains the highest point of perfection. Even when enamels
cover the various parts of jewels in a wondrous harmony of colour, the
artists of the period contrived with extraordinary tact to leave small
portions in gold: the hair of the figures, manes of horses, armour,
weapons--glittering points that enhance the beauty of the whole.
Translucent and opaque enamels are found side by side employed in
different modes with astounding assurance. Extensive use was made of
opaque white enamel, always by way of contrast; a favourite device being
to enrich with it the edges of tendrils in the form of minute beads,
each no larger than a pin's head.
It is the desire for harmony and beauty of execution, rather than for
display of wealth, that characterises the best productions of the
Renaissance, whose true value lies not in their intrinsic, but in their
real artistic worth. The whole of every jewel, back as well as front,
is finished and enamelled with the same exquisite care. What little
material value these jewels possessed when their form and design was
destroyed and their beautiful devices obliterated is well illustrated by
Brantôme's story of the jewels of the Countess of Châteaubriand. This
lady had been supplanted in the affections of Francis I by another--the
future Duchess of Estampes--who persuaded the King to claim all the fine
jewels he had bestowed on his former mistress. The value of these lay
chiefly in their beautiful designs and devices, so on receiving the
demand, she melted them all down, and returned them to him converted
into golden ingots.
The splendid love of life which finds expression in every production of
Renaissance art exercises a pervading influence over its jewellery, and
determines the subjects to be represented. All the larger objects, and
indeed every object which is not of a purely decorative pattern, is
given to the depicting of a subject. Throughout the finest period of
jewellery, goldsmith's work was closely associated with sculpture; and
the human figure, or figures of animals either real or imaginary,
wrought in relief or executed in the round, find a place on almost every
jewelled composition. The subjects, largely chosen from among the new
circle of ideas opened up by the literature of the Renaissance, reveal
wide knowledge of classical mythology, romance, and poetic legends, as
well as remarkable adaptive genius. Nor are subjects from the Old and
New Testaments excluded; though fanciful groups--in one case a
representation of some theological virtue, and in another some sacred
allegory--are more popular. The symbolical figures of the Middle Ages,
as the unicorn and the "pelican in her piety," with sea monsters and
fantastic men and beasts, are of frequent occurrence. Subjects such as
these, and many others suggested by the fertile mind of the Renaissance
jeweller and the artist who drew his designs, are so numerous that space
would fail were one to attempt to enumerate even a tithe of those met
with on jewels of the Cinquecento.
Notwithstanding its subjects, we find in the jewellery of the
Renaissance, beyond what tradition had preserved, no direct influence
resulting from the study of the ornaments of the ancients, though
the awakened interest of Italy in the antique cannot but have been
accompanied by some acquaintance with the productions of her early
goldsmiths. There appears, however, to have been no attempt to base the
jewels of the period on the forms of ancient ornaments, to imitate the
beaded work of the Etruscans or the goldwork of ancient Greece or Rome.
Yet Renaissance design of the sixteenth century, with its arabesques and
scrollwork (best represented by Raphael's famous arabesques in the
Loggia of the Vatican) seems to have been in the main inspired by
antique designs, such as the frescoes discovered at Rome in 1506, in
the Baths of Petus--the so-called grottos, from which was derived, as
Cellini explains, the term grotesque.
The newly developed design, a combination of figures, masks, flowers,
fruits, and various other details, applicable as it was to every branch
of art, was peculiarly adapted to jewellery, and was quickly seized upon
by the jewellers, who employed it for ornaments of a purely decorative
formation, or for the framework or backgrounds of the exquisite figured
compositions then so much in vogue.
The real difficulty that confronts one in dealing with the jewellery of
the sixteenth century lies not in the inability to obtain the necessary
material examples, but in expressing a definite opinion as to their
nationality and origin; and this difficulty the best informed and
most experienced connoisseurs are the first to confess. The utmost,
therefore, that one can hope to do, without attempting in every case to
arrive at accurate conclusions, is to indicate, as far as possible, such
means as may be of assistance in ascribing a nationality, not to all,
but to at least the majority of Renaissance ornaments.
ITALY, SIXTEENTH CENTURY
Italian jewellery of the sixteenth century presents what is probably one
of the most difficult problems in the whole history of the art. In the
fifteenth century the almost complete absence of examples necessitates
recourse mainly to pictures; but Italian pictures of the sixteenth
century are of comparatively small assistance, from the fact that
Italian painters of that period mostly neglected the preciosity of style
and delicacy of perception that studied the gleam and shimmer on jewels
and such-like objects. The bright blending of beautiful colours had to
give way to strong shadows and skilful effects of perspective. There
exists, on the other hand, an abundance of material in the form of
actual specimens of Cinquecento jewellery, but owing to the far-reaching
influence of the Renaissance style of ornament a decision as to their
precise provenance is a matter of the utmost difficulty.
The great popularity of one of the central figures of the late
Renaissance--Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1572)--has for many years caused
the finest examples to be attributed to him or to his school, often with
complete disregard of their design, which can be traced in many cases to
another source. It is unnecessary to give a biographical account of the
famous Florentine goldsmith, for his life may best be studied in his own
memoirs. More to the present purpose is it to attempt to estimate the
real position that Cellini should occupy, especially with regard to such
examples of jewellery as have come down to the present day.
Upon the question of Cellini the artistic world has long been divided
into two camps. The majority of those who have previously dealt with the
subject have considered it sufficient to sum up the whole history of the
jeweller's art of the sixteenth century under the name of this one
artist, and to attribute everything important to him. The lively and
singularly attractive narrative of his own life and adventures contains
such candid glorification of himself and his work, that the temptation
is strong to follow the majority, and, unmindful of his contemporaries,
to associate with him, as he himself has done, the finest jewellery
of the whole Renaissance. Eugène Plon, for example, Cellini's chief
exponent, in his magnificent work, _Benvenuto Cellini, Orfèvre,
Médailleur, Sculpteur_ (1883), though eminently just, and on the whole
fair in his attributions, cannot disguise an evident desire to ascribe
to the Florentine goldsmith, or at any rate to his school, not only
several jewels which might conceivably be associated with Cellini,
but also several others of more doubtful origin. Among these is the
important group of jewels in the Rothschild Collection in the British
Museum, known as the Waddesdon Bequest, the real origin of all of which
is held by those best entitled to judge to be incontestably German.
Cellini's critics, on the other hand, sceptical, and in the main
dispassionate, have placed him under a more searching light, and
despoiled him of the halo with which his own memoirs have encircled him.
He remains, however, an excellent and many-sided artist, thoroughly
versed in all the technicalities of his craft, and one who without doubt
strongly influenced his contemporaries. Admirable goldsmith and jeweller
as he certainly was, he is entitled to the highest distinction, but not
so much on account of the references in his _Vita_ and _Trattati_ to his
own productions, as for his lucid treatment of technical questions.
"Artists," says Mr. Symonds, "who aspire to immortality should shun the
precious metals." Despite all that has been said respecting such jewels
as the _Leda and the Swan_ at Vienna (Pl. XXIX, 5), the _Chariot of
Apollo_ at Chantilly, and the mountings of the two cameos, the _Four
Cæsars_ and the _Centaur and the Bacchic Genii_ in the Bibliothèque
Nationale at Paris, which have, with some degree of likelihood, been
attributed to Cellini, the only quite authenticated example of his work
as a goldsmith is the famous golden salt-cellar at Vienna. This object
when looked at from the goldsmith's point of view, in the matter of
fineness of workmanship and skill in execution, is seen to possess
particular characteristics which should be sufficient to prevent the
attribution to Cellini of other contemporary work, created by jewellers
who clearly drew their inspiration from entirely different sources.
In endeavouring to affix a nationality to existing jewels, the only
really serviceable landmarks are those furnished by the collections of
engraved designs by German and French masters of ornament; and when
these are compared with the contemporary work just spoken of, the common
origin of nearly all becomes at once evident. Bearing in mind the skill
and fame of the Italian goldsmiths, not only of Cellini, but of his
contemporaries, such as Girolamo del Prato, Giovanni da Ferenzuola, Luca
Agnolo, and Piero, Giovanni, and Romalo del Tovaloccio, the reason why
the vast majority of extant jewels should follow German designs is
difficult to understand. An authority no less reliable than Sir A. W.
Franks has expressed an opinion that the designs of Dürer, Aldegrever,
and other German artists were extensively used in Italy.[123] Italian
goldsmiths did not produce any such examples of engraved ornament for
jewellery as did their confrères in Germany, France, and Flanders; but
the current knowledge we possess of the art of the period renders it at
least unlikely that the individuality which is the key-note of all the
productions of the Italian Renaissance would have countenanced there, in
Italy, the use of extraneous ready-made designs. Certainly artists
of the stamp of Cellini would not have used them. One is forced
nevertheless to acknowledge the possibility of minor Italian craftsmen
having executed jewels from German engravings. The international
character visible on so many art objects of the time must be attributed
in no small degree to the circulation of such designs in almost all the
workshops of Europe.
[123] _Proc. Soc. Antiq._, XIV, p. 180.
A reason for the many difficulties that arise in connection with this
particular question seems to lie in the fact that for causes unexplained
the jewellery of the first half of the sixteenth century, whether
Italian, German, or of other nationality, has almost all vanished, and
that examples met with at the present day belong chiefly to the second
half of that century. While acknowledging the existence of a fair number
of jewels whose authorship cannot be otherwise than Italian, and without
denying the possibility of the survival of examples of jewellery even
from the hand of Cellini himself, a protest must be raised against the
practice, hitherto so common, of describing _every_ jewel of the
sixteenth century as Italian, and of coupling _every_ high-class object
of this description with the magic name of Cellini.