Chapter VII: Part 7

“Nothing can be more melancholy than the picture of Spain drawn by
this Commission. They tell us that the most valuable contents of
the conventual libraries had been thrown away or mutilated, and
that thousands of volumes had been sold as waste paper for three or
four reals the arroba, and had been exported to enrich foreign
libraries. A hope had been entertained of forming collections in
each province, of pictures and other works of art; the Commission
was soon undeceived as to the possibility of effecting this. Baron
Taylor and a host of foreign dealers had in some provinces carried
off all they could lay their hands upon; in others the
Commissioners tell us, ‘Many of the most esteemed works of art, the
glory and ornament of the most sumptuous churches, had perished in
their application to the vilest uses; in others scarcely any record
was preserved of what had been in existence at the time of the
dissolution of the monasteries, and no inventory or catalogue of
any kind had been made.’ Our only consolation perhaps is that these
books and works of art will be better appreciated in other
countries, and we may derive comfort from the views expressed by
Madame Hahn-Hahn.[A]

“It is clear that in such a state of things the plunder and
destruction of pictures must have been enormous. In the summary of
the proceedings of the Commission with reference to pictures,
which I shall proceed to give, the reader will see that all sorts
of obstacles to any claim of the central government were raised by
the local authorities; such a course was sometimes no doubt the
result of genuine Spanish obstinacy, strong in local attachments,
and hating all interference; but it too often probably originated
in the desire to conceal peculation and robbery on the part of the
alcalde, or the parish priest, or the sacristan, or the porter of a
suppressed convent. Let us remember that in all probability no one
of these functionaries ever received the salary which was due to
him, and that the unfortunate monks turned out of their convents
had neither interest nor duty in protecting what had ceased to be
theirs. If they did not (as it may be hoped) themselves carry off
what they could, they would abandon it to the first plunderer.
Added to which, the habitual feeling of every Spaniard is, that
what belongs to the government is fair game, and may be stolen with
a safe conscience.

“When all this is considered, it will not appear surprising that
bribery and robbery should have stripped the deserted convents, and
scattered the memorials of Spanish art and literature. It is
greatly to be feared too that the ignorance of the local
commissioners will cause many an interesting picture of early date
to be thrown on one side as barbarous and rude, and that few such
valuable records as the altar of the time of Don Jayme el
Conquistador, mentioned as rescued at Valencia, will be preserved
at all; indifferent second-rate copies, or imitations of the
Italian and Flemish masters, will probably pass current as the
staple article in most of the provincial museums, even where such
institutions are finally formed. At any rate, as a picture of the
state of Spain with reference to the Fine Arts, and as a sort of
guide to tourists, it may be useful to give, in alphabetical order,
as they are enumerated in the report, an abstract of the general
result as to the number of paintings got together in each
province.”

Here follows the result of the labors of the Commission in forty-eight provinces, alphabetically arranged, presenting a sorry picture indeed. Only a few of them can be given here, which may be taken as specimens of the whole:

“_Almeria._--Here the existence of any local collection was denied,
but accidentally a catalogue was discovered containing a list of
one hundred and ninety-six pictures, which had been got together in
1837, and had apparently disappeared.

“_Burgos._--The Commissioners say, ‘On seeing the small number of
works of art in the province of Burgos, and after examining
carefully the communication of the “Gefe Político,” dated in April,
1844, together with the inventory which accompanied it, containing
only sixty-nine pictures and thirteen coins, deposited in the
Literary Institution of the capital of the province, we could not
refrain from signifying our surprise at finding so poor a museum in
a province which was at one time one of the richest in Spain in
monasteries.’

“_Cáceres._--Here again the Central Commission could get no account
of the works of art which were known to have existed, more
especially in the magnificent Hieronymite Monastery of Guadalupe,
near Logrosan. The Provincial Commission, acting on the authority
of that in Madrid, proceeded to ascertain what still remained
within the walls of the convent, when they were resisted by the
‘_Ayuntamiento_’ of the town of Guadalupe, who pretended that all
that was in the church and convent belonged to the parish, and not
to the state.

“_Cadiz._--Those who first collected the pictures took care to
catalogue them without giving the subjects or the sizes, and mixed
up together paintings and prints, so that it was impossible to say
what had been stolen. The report goes on to say that the sale of
certain pictures was not less irregular and culpable in itself,
than the lawfulness of the manner in which the produce of the sale
was applied appeared doubtful. The Local Commission of Arts and
Sciences thought it prudent to abstain from criminal proceedings
against any one; but the pictures yet remaining were in such a
state of decay that to protect themselves they caused a _procès
verbal_ to be drawn up, setting forth their condition.

“_Cuenca._--All sorts of plunder had gone on here, as elsewhere,
but the Local Commissioners seem to have exerted themselves to
rescue and place in safety what could yet be secured. The head of
the Priory of Santiago de Uclés resisted them. The number of
pictures collected is not given.

“_Gerona._--In August, 1842, the ‘Gefe Político’ reported the
existence of certain pictures, as he said, of little merit; but,
bad or good, they seem to have disappeared by 1845.

“_Granada._--Here a museum was formed in 1839, and in 1842 a
catalogue of eight hundred and eighty-four pieces of sculpture and
painting was transmitted to the Secretary of State. By January,
1844, it would appear that some, probably many, of them had been
stolen, and the report does not tell us how many remained.

“_Guadalajara._--It appears that out of four hundred and thirty
pictures, a few only were considered to be originals of any value,
and were attributed to Ribera, Zurbaran, Carreño, el Greco, and
others, for the most part Spanish masters. Twenty-five were
completely ruined.

“_Guipuzcoa._--The civil war in this province has been the cause
and the pretext for the disappearance of many works of art.
‘Since,’ says the report, ‘whilst many have been destroyed on the
one hand, on the other the state of affairs has thrown a shield
over those who have profited by the confusion, and have unjustly
appropriated the property of the state.’

“_Jaen._--The Local Commission of Jaen in the course of nine months
got together five hundred and twenty-three pictures, of which they
reported two hundred and eighty-five as worthless, and placed two
hundred and thirty-eight in the old Jesuit convent. The names of
Murillo, Zurbaran, Alonso Cano, Castillo, Orrente, Melgar, Juan de
Sevilla, Guzman, Coello, Titian, el Greco, and Albano, appear in
the catalogue.

“_Leon._--‘The necessity,’ says the report, ‘of quartering troops
in the various convents of this province, and the scandalous tricks
which we know to have been played with the works of art in the
same, are the causes why the catalogue, which was framed in
September of last year, appeared so imperfect and so scanty, since
the number of objects was reduced to sixty-one pictures and three
pieces of sculpture, deposited in the convent of the so-called
“Monjas Catalinas.”’ No more favorable account seems to have been
received at the time the report was drawn up.

“_Lérida._--Here too the civil war is said to have caused the
disappearance of most of the pictures in the convents; only
eighteen of any merit had been collected in April, 1844, but some
more were known to exist in the Seo de Urgel, where the local
authorities however refused to give them up to the government. The
Commission had not been able to obtain an accurate account even of
the eighteen.

“_Malaga._--A miserable return of six pieces sculpture and four
pictures was all that could be obtained by the Central Commission,
and they attribute this result to ‘the natural indolence and purely
mercantile spirit of that district.’ Probably the facility for
exportation had a good deal to do with the disappearance of the
various works of art which the report affirms to have been once
collected and deposited in various public buildings.”

DON DIEGO VELASQUEZ.

This great painter, justly esteemed the Head of the Spanish school, was born at Seville in 1594. He pursued almost every branch of painting, except the marine, and excelled almost equally in all.--Philip IV. conferred on him extraordinary honors, appointed him his principal painter, and ordained that none but the modern Apelles should paint his likeness. When Rubens visited Madrid in 1627, to discharge the duties of his embassy, he formed an intimate and lasting friendship with Velasquez, which continued through life. “There is something in the history of this painter,” says Mrs. Jameson, “which fills the imagination like a gorgeous romance. In the very sound of his name, _Don Diego Rodriguez Velasquez de Silva_--there is something mouth-filling and magnificent. When we read of his fine chivalrous qualities, his noble birth, his riches, his palaces, his orders of knighthood, and what is most rare, the warm, real, steady friendship of a king, and added to this a long life, crowned with genius, felicity, and fame, it seems almost beyond the lot of humanity. I know of nothing to be compared with it but the history of Rubens, his friend and cotemporary, whom he resembled in character and fortune, and in that union of rare talents with practical good sense which ensures success in life.” For a full life of this painter, see Spooner’s Dictionary of Painters, Engravers, Sculptors, and Architects.

VELASQUEZ HONORED BY THE KING OF SPAIN.

Philip IV. relaxed the rigor of Spanish etiquette in favor of Velasquez, as Charles V. had done with Titian. He had his studio in the royal palace, and the King kept a private key, by means of which he had access to it whenever he pleased. Almost every day Philip used to visit the artist, and would sit and watch him while at work. When Velasquez produced his celebrated picture of the Infanta Margarita surrounded by her maids of honor, with a portrait of himself, standing near at his easel, the King conferred upon him a very unusual honor. After the picture had been greatly admired, Philip remarked, “There is one thing wanting,” and taking the palette and pencils, he drew in with his own hand upon the breast of Velasquez’s portrait, the much coveted Cross of Santiago! The nobles resented this profanation of a decoration hitherto only given to high birth; but all difficulties were removed by a _papal dispensation and a grant of Hidalguia_. Velasquez’s portraits baffle description or praise--they produce complete illusion, and must be seen to be known. He depicted the _minds_ of men; they live, breathe, and seem about to walk out of their frames. The freshness, individuality, and identity of every person are quite startling; nor can we doubt the anecdote related of Philip IV., who, mistaking for the original the portrait of Admiral Pareja in a dark corner of Velasquez’s room, exclaimed, as he had been ordered to sea, “What! still here? Did I not send thee off? How is it that thou art not gone?” But seeing the figure did not salute him, the King discovered his mistake. While Velasquez sojourned in Rome, he painted the portrait of Innocent X., which is now the gem of the Doria collection, and in which, says Lanzi, “he renewed the wonders which are recounted of those of Leo X. by Raffaelle, and Paul III. by Titian; for this picture so entirely deceived the eye as to be taken for the Pope himself.”

VELASQUEZ’S SLAVE.

Juan de Pareja was the slave of Don Diego Velasquez. Palomino and others, say he was born in Mexico, of a Spanish father and an Indian mother; but Bermudez says he was born at Seville. From being employed in his master’s studio to attend on him, grind his colors, clean his palette, brushes, &c., he imbibed a passion for painting, and sought every opportunity to practice during his master’s absence. He spent whole nights in drawing and endeavoring to imitate him, for he durst not let him know of his aspiring dreams. At length he had made such proficiency, that he resolved to lay his case before the King, Philip IV., who was not only an excellent judge, but a true lover, of art. It was the King’s custom to resort frequently to the apartments of Velasquez, and to order those pictures which were placed with the painted side to the wall, to be turned to his view. Pareja placed one of his own productions in that position, which the King’s curiosity caused to be turned, when the slave fell on his knees and besought the monarch to obtain his pardon from his master, for having presumed to practice painting without his approbation. Philip, agreeably surprised at his address, and well pleased with the work, bid Pareja to rest contented. He interceded in his behalf, and Velasquez not only forgave him, but emancipated him from servitude; yet such was his attachment and gratitude to his master, that he would never leave him till his death, and afterwards continued to serve his daughter with the same fidelity. He is said to have painted portraits so much in the style of Velasquez, that they could not easily be distinguished from his works. He also painted some historical works, as the Calling of St. Matthew, at Aranjuez; the Baptism of Christ, at Toledo, and some Saints at Madrid.

LUIS TRISTAN.

This eminent Spanish painter was born near Toledo, according to Palomino, in 1594, though Bermudez says in 1586. He was a pupil of El Greco, whom he surpassed in design and purity of taste. His instructor, far from being jealous of his talents, was the first to applaud his works, and to commend him to the public. He executed many admirable works for the churches and public edifices at Toledo and Madrid. It is no mean proof of his ability, that Velasquez professed himself his admirer, and quitting the precepts of Pacheco, he formed his style from the works of Tristan.

TRISTAN AND EL GRECO.

Tristan was the favorite pupil of El Greco, to whom his master made over many commissions, which he was unable to execute himself. In this manner he was employed to paint the Last Supper, for the Hieronymite monastery of La Sisla. The monks liked the picture; but they thought the price which the artist asked for it, of two hundred ducats, excessive. They therefore sent for El Greco to value it; but when this master saw his pupil’s work, he raised his stick and ran at him, calling him a scoundrel and a disgrace to his profession. The monks restrained the angry painter, and soothed him by saying that the young man did not know what he asked, and no doubt would submit to the opinion of his master. “In good truth,” returned El Greco, “he does not know what he has asked; and if he does not get _five hundred_ ducats for the picture, I desire it may be rolled up and sent to my house.” The Hieronymites were compelled to pay the larger sum!

ALONSO CANO.

This eminent Spanish painter, sculptor, and architect, was born at Granada, according to Bermudez, in 1601. He early showed a passion for the fine arts, and exhibited extraordinary talents. He excelled in all the three sister arts, particularly in painting. There are many excellent works by Cano in the churches and public edifices at Cordova, Madrid, Granada, and Seville, which rank him among the greatest Spanish painters. As a sculptor, he manifested great abilities, and executed many fine works, which excited universal admiration. He also gained considerable reputation as an architect, and was appointed architect and painter to the king.

CANO’S LIBERALITY.

Cano executed many works for the churches and convents gratuitously. When he was young, he painted many pictures for the public places of Seville, which were regarded as astonishing performances. For these he would receive no remuneration, declaring that he considered them unfinished and deficient, and that he wrought for practice and improvement.

CANO’S ECCENTRICITIES.

Palomino relates several characteristic anecdotes of Cano. An Auditor of the Chancery of Granada bore especial devotion to St. Anthony of Padua, and wished for an image of that saint from the hands of Cano. When the figure was finished, the judge liked it much. He inquired what money the artist expected for it: the answer was, one hundred doubloons. The amateur was astonished, and asked, “How many days he might have spent upon it?” Cano replied, “Some five-and-twenty days.” “Well,” said the Auditor, “that comes to four doubloons per day.” “Your lordship reckons wrong,” said Cano, “for I have spent fifty years in learning to execute it in twenty-five days.” “That is all very well, but I have spent my patrimony and my youth in studying at the University, and in a higher profession; now here I am, Auditor in Granada, and if I get a doubloon a day, it is as much as I do.” Cano had scarce patience to hear him out. “A higher profession, indeed!” he exclaimed; “the king can make judges out of the dust of the earth, but it is reserved for God alone to make an Alonso Cano.” Saying this, he took up the figure and dashed it to pieces on the pavement; whereupon the Auditor escaped as fast as he could, not feeling sure that Cano’s fury would confine itself to the statue.

CANO’S HATRED OF THE JEWS.

Another characteristic of Cano, was his insuperable repugnance for any persons tainted with Judaism. It appears that in Granada the unhappy persons of that nation who were _penitenciados_ (i.e. who had been subjected to penance by the Inquisition) were in the habit of getting what they could to support themselves, by selling linen and other articles about the streets; they wore of course the _sambenito_, or habit prescribed by the Inquisition as the mark of their penance. If Cano met one of these men in the street, he would cross to the other side, or get out of his way into the passage of a house. Occasionally, however, in turning a corner, or by mere accident, one of these persons would sometimes brush the garment of the artist, who then instantly sent his servant home for another, whether cloak or doublet, and gave the _polluted_ one to his attendant. The servant, however, did not dare to wear what he had thus acquired, or his master would have turned him out of the house forthwith--he could only sell it. It is added that the manifest profit which the servant derived from his master’s scruples, made the people doubt whether in all cases the Jew had really brushed against the artist, or whether the servant had himself twitched the cloak as the Jew passed. At any rate the servant has been heard to remonstrate, and urge that “it was the slightest touch in the world, sir--it cannot matter.” “Not matter?--you scoundrel, in such things as these, everything matters;” and the valet got the cloak.

On one occasion, Cano’s housekeeper, with an excess of audacity, had actually brought one of these _penitenciados_ into the house, and was buying some linen of him; a dispute about the price caused high words, and the master came, hearing a disturbance. What could he do? he could not defile himself by laying hands on the miscreant, who got away while the wrathful artist was looking for some weapon that he could use without touching him. But the housekeeper had to fly to a neighbor’s; and it was only after many entreaties, and performing a rigorous quarantine, that she was received back again.

CANO’S RULING PASSION STRONG IN DEATH.

His passion for art, and his eccentric notions respecting the Jews, were strongly manifested in his last sickness. He lived in the parish of the city which contained the prison of the Inquisition. The priest of the parish visited him upon his death-bed, and proposed to administer the sacraments to him after confession, when the artist quietly asked him whether he was in the habit of administering it to the Jews on whom penance was imposed by the Inquisition. The priest replying in the affirmative, Cano said, “Senor Licenciado, go your way, and do not trouble yourself to call again; for the priest who administers the sacraments to the Jews shall not administer them to me.” Accordingly he sent for the priest of the parish of St. Andrew. This last, however, gave offence in another form; he put into the artist’s hands a crucifix of indifferent execution, when Cano desired him to take it away. The priest was so shocked at this, that he thought him possessed, and was at the point of exorcising him. “My son,” he said, “what dost thou mean? this is the Lord who redeemed thee, and who must save thee.”--“I know that well,” replied Cano, “but do you want to provoke me with that wretched thing, so as to give me over to the devil? let me have a simple cross, for with that I can reverence Christ in faith; I can worship him as he is in himself, and as I contemplate him in my own mind.” This was accordingly done, so that the artist was no longer troubled by an indifferent specimen of sculpture.

RIBALTA’S MARRIAGE.

Francisco Ribalta, an eminent Spanish painter, studied first in Valencia, where he fell in love with the daughter of his instructor. The father refused his consent to the marriage; but the daughter promised to wait for her lover while he studied in Italy. Ribalta accordingly went thither and devoted himself to his art, studying particularly the works of Raffaelle and the Caracci, and returned, after a considerable time, to his native country. Quickened by love, he had attained a high degree of excellence. On arriving at the city of Valencia, he went to the house of his beloved, who meanwhile had proved faithful; and her father being away from home, he finished the sketch of a picture in his studio, in his mistress’ presence, and left it to produce its effect upon the hitherto inflexible parent. The latter, on returning, asked his daughter who had been there, adding, with a look at the picture, “This is the man to whom I would marry thee, and not to that dauber, Ribalta.” The marriage of course took place, immediately; and the fame of Ribalta soon procured him abundant employment.

APARICIO, CANOVA, AND THORWALDSEN.

Aparicio, a Spanish painter who died in 1838, possessed little merit, but great vanity. Among other works, he painted the Ransoming of 1700 slaves at Algiers, which occurred in 1768, by order of Charles III. When the picture was exhibited at Rome, Canova, who knew the man, told Aparicio, “This is the finest thing in the world, and you are the first of painters.” Soon after, Thorwaldsen came in and ventured a critique, whereupon the Don indignantly quoted Canova. “Sir, he has been laughing at you,” said the honest Dane, to whom Aparicio never spoke again.

BARTOLOME ESTEBAN MURILLO.

This preëminent Spanish painter was born at Pilas, near Seville, in 1613. There is a great deal of contradiction among writers as to his early history, but it has been proved that he never left his own country. He first studied under Don Juan del Castillo, an eminent historical painter at Seville, on leaving whom, he went to Cadiz. It was the custom of the young artists at that time to expose their works for sale at the annual fairs, and many of the earliest productions of Murillo were exported to South America, which gave rise to the tradition, that he had proceeded thither in person.

MURILLO AND VELASQUEZ.

The fame of Velasquez, then at its zenith, inspired Murillo with a desire to visit Madrid, in the hope to profit by his instruction. He accordingly proceeded thither in 1642, and paid his court to Velasquez, who received him with great kindness, admitted him into his academy, and procured for him the best means of improvement beyond his own instruction, by obtaining for him access to the rich treasures of art in the royal collections, where his attention was particularly directed to the works of Titian, Rubens, and Vandyck.

MURILLO’S RETURN TO SEVILLE.

After a residence of three years at Madrid, Murillo returned to Seville, where he was commissioned to paint his great fresco of St. Thomas of Villanuova distributing alms to the poor, in the convent of San Francisco, consisting of sixteen compartments.--The subject suited his genius, and gave full scope for the display of his powers, which were peculiarly adapted to the representation of nature in her most simple and unsophisticated forms. The Saint stands in a dignified posture, with a countenance beaming with benevolence and compassion, while he is surrounded by groups of paupers, eagerly pressing forward to receive his charity, whose varied character and wretchedness are portrayed with wonderful art and truthfulness of expression. This and other works produced emotions of the greatest astonishment among his countrymen, established his reputation as one of the greatest artists of his age, and procured him abundant employment.

MURILLO AND IRIARTE.

About this time, Murillo was employed by the Marquis of Villamanrique, to paint a series of pictures from the life of David, in which the backgrounds were to be painted by Ignacio Iriarte, an eminent landscape painter of Seville. Murillo rightly proposed that the landscape parts should be first painted, and that he should afterwards put in the figures; but Iriarte contended that the historical part ought to be first finished, to which he would adapt the backgrounds. To put an end to the dispute, Murillo undertook to execute the whole, and changing the History of David to that of Jacob, he produced the famous series of five pictures, now in the possession of the Marquis de Santiago at Madrid, in which the beauty of the landscapes contends with that of the figures, and which remain a monument of his powers in these different departments of the art.

MURILLO’S DEATH.

The last work which Murillo painted was a picture of St. Catherine, in the convent of the Capuchins at Seville, his death being hastened by a fall from the scaffold. He died at Seville in 1685, universally deplored--for he was greatly beloved, not merely for his extraordinary talents, but for the generous qualities of his heart. Such was his noble and charitable disposition, that he is said to have left but little property, though he received large prices for his works.

MURILLO’S STYLE.

Few painters have a juster claim to originality of style than Murillo, and his works show an incontestible proof of the perfection to which the Spanish school attained, and the real character of its artists; for he was never out of his native country, and could have borrowed little from foreign artists; and this originality places him in the first rank among the painters of every school. All his works are distinguished by a close and lively imitation of nature. His pictures of the Virgin, Saints, Magdalens, and even of the Saviour, are stamped with a characteristic expression of the eye, and have a national peculiarity of countenance and habiliments, which are very remarkable. There is little of the academy discernible in his design or his composition. It is a chaste and faithful representation of what he saw or conceived; truth and simplicity are never lost sight of; his coloring is clear, tender, and harmonious, and though it possesses the truth of Titian, and the sweetness of Vandyck, it has nothing of the appearance of imitation. There is little of the ideal in his forms or heads, and though he frequently adopts a beautiful expression, there is usually a portrait-like simplicity in his countenances. In short, his pictures are said to hold a middle rank between the unpolished naturalness of the Flemish, and the graceful and dignified taste of the Italian schools.

MURILLO’S WORKS.

The works of Murillo are numerous, and widely scattered over the world. Most of his greatest works are in the churches of Spain; some are in the Royal collections at Madrid, some in France and Flanders, many in England, and a few in the United States. They now command enormous prices. The National Gallery of London paid four thousand guineas for a picture of the Holy Family, and two thousand for one of St. John with the Lamb. The late Marshal Soult’s collection was very rich in Murillos--the fruits of his campaigns in Spain. The famous Assumption of the Virgin, considered the chef d’œuvre of the master, brought the enormous sum of five hundred and eighty-six thousand francs, and was bought by the French government to adorn the Louvre; but it should be recollected that the heads of three governments--those of France, Russia, and Spain--and an English Marquis, competed for it. Such works, too, are esteemed above all price, as models of art, in a national collection of pictures. Of the other Murillos in the Soult collection, the principal brought the following prices: “The Ravages of the Plague,” twenty thousand francs; “The Miracle of St. Diego,” eighty-five thousand francs; “The Flight into Egypt,” fifty-one thousand francs; “The Nativity of the Virgin,” ninety thousand francs; “The Repentance of St. Peter,” fifty-five thousand francs; “Christ on the Cross,” thirty-one thousand francs; “St. Peter in Prison,” one hundred and fifty-one thousand francs; “Jesus and St. John--children,” fifty-one thousand seven hundred and fifty francs. The two last were purchased for the Emperor of Russia. The collection was sold in May, 1852.

The works of Murillo have been largely copied and imitated, and so successfully as to deceive even connoisseurs.

MURILLO’S ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN.

The Assumption of the Virgin is considered by all the Spanish writers as the masterpiece of Murillo, and never, perhaps, did that great master attain such sublimity of expression and such magnificent coloring, as in this almost divine picture. It represents the Virgin in the act of being carried up into Heaven. Her golden hair floats on her shoulders, and her white robe gently swells in the breeze, while a mantle of blue gracefully falls from her left shoulder. Groups of angels and cherubim of extraordinary beauty, sport around her in the most evident admiration, those below thronging closely together, while those above open their ranks, as if not in any way to conceal the glory shed around the ascending Virgin. The size of the picture is eight feet six inches in height, by six feet broad, French measure. This picture was the gem of the famous collection made by Marshal Soult, during his campaigns in Spain, who used humorously to relate that it cost him _two monks_, which he thus explained. One morning two of his soldiers were found with their throats cut, and the deed being traced to the instigation of the monks, near whose convent they had encamped, he immediately arraigned them before a court-martial, sentenced two of the fraternity to expiate the deed, and compelled them to designate the victims by lot. One of the chances fell to the Prior, who offered Soult this peerless picture as the price of their redemption.

CASTILLO’S TRIBUTE TO MURILLO.

Castillo was educated in the school of Zurbaran. After returning to his native city, he flattered himself that he was the first Spanish painter of the day; but subsequently, on a visit to Seville, he was painfully undeceived. The works of Murillo struck him with astonishment, and when he saw the St. Leander and St. Isidore, as well as the St. Anthony of Padua by that master, he exclaimed, “It is all over with Castillo! Is it possible that Murillo can be the author of all this grace and beauty of coloring?” He returned to Cordova, and attempted to imitate and equal Murillo, but felt satisfied that he had failed; and it is said that he died in the following year, from the effects of envy and annoyance.

CORREGGIO.

The name of this great artist was Antonio Allegri, and he was born at Correggio, a small town in the Duchy of Modena, in 1494; hence his acquired name. It was for a long time the fashion to regard the divine creations of Correggio as the mere product of genius and accident; himself as a man born in the lowest grade of society; uneducated in the elements of his art, owing all to the wondrous resources of his own unassisted genius; living and dying in obscurity and poverty; ill paid for his pictures; and at length perishing tragically. It has been proved that there is no foundation for these popular fallacies. Correggio’s own pictures are a sufficient refutation of a part of them; they exhibit not only a classical and cultivated taste, but a profound knowledge of anatomy, and of the sciences of optics, perspective, and chemistry, as far as they were then carried. His exquisite chiaro-scuro and harmonious blending of colors were certainly not the result of mere chance: all his sensibility to these effects of nature would not have enabled him to render them, without the profoundest study of the mechanical means he employed. The great works on which he was employed--his lavish use of the rarest and most expensive colors, and the time and labor he bestowed in analyzing and refining them--the report that he worked on a ground overlaid with gold--all refute the idea of his being either an ignorant or a distressed man. Of the rank he held in the estimation of the princes of his country we have evidence in a curious document discovered in the archives of the city of Correggio--the marriage contract between Ippolito (the son of Giberto, Lord of Correggio, by his wife, the celebrated poetess Vittoria Gambara), and Chiara da Correggio, in which we find the signature of the great painter as one of the witnesses. Correggio was one of that splendid triumvirate of painters who, living at the same time, were working on different principles, and achieving, each in his own department, excellence hitherto unequalled; and if Correggio must be allowed to be inferior to Raffaelle in invention and expression, and to Titian in life-like color, he has united design and color with the illusion of light and shadow in a degree of perfection not then nor since approached by any painter. Hence Annibale Caracci, on seeing one of his great pictures, exclaimed in a transport that he was “the only _painter_!”

CORREGGIO’S GRAND CUPOLA OF THE CHURCH OF ST. JOHN AT PARMA.

The admiration which the works of Correggio excited, induced the monks of St. John to engage him in ornamenting the grand cupola, and other parts of their church. The original agreement has not been discovered, but various entries have been found in the books of the convent, between 1519 and 1536, which prove, that for adorning the cupola he received, as Tiraboschi asserts, two hundred and seventy-two gold ducats, and two hundred more for other parts of the fabric. The last payment of twenty seven gold ducats was made on the 23d of January, 1524, and the acknowledgment of the painter, under his own signature, is still extant.

The subject is the Ascension of Christ in glory, surrounded by the twelve Apostles, seated on the clouds; and in the lunettes the four Evangelists and four Doctors of the Church. The situation for the picture presented difficulties which none but so great an artist could have overcome; for the cupola has neither sky-light nor windows, and consequently the whole effect of the piece must depend on the light reflected from below. The figures of the Apostles are chiefly naked, gigantic, and in a style of peculiar grandeur.

Besides the cupola, various parts of the same church were adorned by his hand. He decorated the tribune, which was afterwards demolished to enlarge the choir; and it was so highly esteemed, that Cesare Aretusi was employed by the monks to copy it for the new tribune. He painted also in fresco, the two sides of the fifth chapel on the right hand, the first representing the Martyrdom of St. Placido and St. Flavia, and the second a dead Christ, with the Virgin Mary swooning at his feet. Of these paintings Mengs particularly admires the head of St. Placido and the exquisite figure of the Magdalen in the last mentioned picture.

CORREGGIO’S GRAND CUPOLA OF THE CATHEDRAL AT PARMA.

The grand fresco painting in the cupola of the Cathedral of Parma, is considered Correggio’s greatest work, and has ever been regarded as a most wonderful production.

The difficulties he had to encounter, were greater than those in the church of St. John, and in overcoming them he displayed the most consummate skill and judgment. This cupola, which is nearly thirty-nine feet in diameter, is octagonal, the compartments diminishing as it rises; and it is not surmounted with a lantern, but towards the lower part is lighted by windows, approaching to an oval form. On this surface he delineated numerous groups of figures, with extraordinary boldness and effect; though, for the sake of variety, he partially adopted a smaller scale than in the cupola of St. John. The subject is the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. She is represented with an air in the highest degree indicative of devotion and beatitude, as rising to meet Christ in the clouds, surrounded by the heavenly choir of saints and angels; while beneath, the apostles behold her reception into glory with the most dignified expression of reverence and astonishment. Over the whole is an effusion of light, which produces an impression truly celestial.

The figures which are depicted in the upper part of the dome, are foreshortened with consummate skill. Mengs, who saw them near, and judged of them as an artist, appears astonished at their boldness, which he calls “sconcia terribile,” particularly that of Christ, which occupies the centre. But the effect, when seen from below, proves that the painter had deeply studied that delicate branch of the art; for nothing can exceed the bold and exquisite management of the light and shade, and the beautiful proportion in which the figures appear to the eye, except the life and spirit with which they are animated, and the general harmony of the whole.

In decorating the lower part of the cupola, Correggio displayed undiminished resources. He figured a species of socle, or cornice, which runs round the whole cupola, yet at such a distance as to afford a space between the windows for the apostles, who appear, some single, some in pairs, surrounded with angels, and delineated in the same grand style as those in the cupola of St. John. Yet, although placed on the very lines of the angles, formed in the dome, they are so artfully disposed and foreshortened, as to appear painted vertically on the cornice. To unite these with the principal figures, he distributed above and on the socle, between the gigantic figures of the apostles, and the light and airy forms of the celestial choir above, groups of angels, of an intermediate size, some with torches, and others bearing vases and censers.

But a striking proof of his taste and skill is manifested in the four lunettes between the arches supporting the cupola. Here he feigned the architecture to form four capacious niches or shells, in which he introduced the patrons of the city, St. John the Baptist, St. Hilary, St. Thomas, and St. Bernard degli Uberti, in magnitude equal to the Apostles, resting on clouds and attended by angels. In depicting the light as transmitted from the groups above, he has thrown it so naturally upon these figures and their angelic suite, that they appear as if detached from the wall, and animated with more than human spirit and grace.

This great work was commenced about 1523, and finished in 1530, as appears from the original agreements and receipts, preserved in the archives of the Chapter, which were published by his biographer Pungileoni, from a copy taken and authenticated by a Notary Public, in 1803. The work seems to have been delayed by the feuds and warfare which agitated Parma at that time, and perhaps by other engagements of the artist. The contract was signed on the 3d of November, 1522. In the plan or estimate which Correggio drew up at the desire of the Chapter, and which is still preserved in his own handwriting, he required twelve hundred gold ducats, and one hundred for gold leaf; the scaffolding, lime, and other requisites to be provided by the Chapter. But in the contract itself, the price was reduced to one thousand ducats, exclusive of the one hundred for gold leaf. For this sum he engaged to paint the choir, and the cupola with its arches and pillars, as far as the altar; also the lateral chapels, in imitation of living subjects, bronze and marble, according to the plan, and in conformity to the nature of the place, comprising in the whole a surface of one hundred and fifty-four square perches (perteche). The Chapter, on their part, were to provide the scaffolding and the lime, and to defray the expense of preparing the walls. Thus Correggio received the sum of one thousand gold ducats (about two thousand dollars) for his work, out of which he had to pay for his colors, and the labors of his assistants. What then becomes of the miserable story generally current, that this was his last work; that when he went to receive payment, that he might take home the price of his labors to his poverty-stricken family, the canons found fault with his picture, and refused to pay him more than half the paltry sum originally promised; that they paid him in copper coin; that he took the heavy burden upon his shoulders, and walked a distance of eight miles to his cottage, under the burning heat of an Italian sun, which together with his despair threw him into a fever, of which he died, on his bed of straw, in three days? It appears from the documents before cited, that Correggio received payment in instalments, as his work progressed.

CORREGGIO’S FATE.

Vasari commiserates the fate of Correggio, whom he represents as of a melancholy turn of mind timid and diffident of his own powers; burthened with a numerous family, which, with all his prodigious talents, he could scarcely support; illy recompensed for his works; and to crown the sad story, we are told that, having received at Parma a payment of sixty crowns in copper money, he caught a fever in the exertion of carrying it home on his shoulders, which occasioned his death.

This picture, however, according to Lanzi, is exaggerated; for although the situation of Correggio was far beneath his merits, yet it was by no means deplorable. His family was highly respectable, and possessed considerable landed property, which is said to have been augmented by his own earnings; and so far from his having died of the fatigue of carrying home copper money, he was usually paid in gold. For the cupola and tribune of the church of St. John, he received four hundred and seventy-two sequins; for that of the Cathedral, three hundred and fifty; payments by no means inconsiderable in those times. For his celebrated Notte he was paid forty sequins, and for the St. Jerome, which cost him six months’ labor, forty-seven. It does not appear probable that he acquired great riches, but there is no doubt that he was equally screened from the evils attendant on penury and affluence.

The researches and discoveries of the learned Tiraboschi, the indomitable Dr. Michele Antonioli, and the zealous and impartial Padre Luigi Pungileoni, have thrown much light upon the life of Correggio. His father, Pellegrino Allegri, was a general merchant in Correggio, esteemed by his fellow-citizens. His circumstances were easy, and he intended Antonio for one of the learned professions, but his passion for painting induced him to allow him to follow the bent of his genius. It is not certainly known under whom he studied painting. Some of the Italian writers say that he was instructed by Francesco Bianchi and Giovanni Murani, called Il Frari; others that he was a pupil of Lionardo da Vinci and Andrea Mantegna; Lanzi is decidedly of the opinion that he formed his style by studying the works of Mantegna, who died in 1506, which does away with the supposition that he could have studied with him. “The manner,” says Lanzi, “in which Correggio could have imbibed so exquisite a taste, has always been considered surprising and unaccountable, prevailing everywhere, as we find in his canvass, in his laying on his colors, in the last touches of his pictures; but let us for a moment suppose him a student of Mantegna’s models, surpassing all others in the same taste, and the wonder will be accounted for. Let us, moreover, consider the grace and vivacity so predominant in the compositions of Correggio, the rainbow as it were of his colors, that accurate care in his foreshortenings, and of those upon ceilings; his abundance of laughing boys and cherubs, of flowers, fruits, and all delightful objects; and let us ask ourselves whether this new style does not appear an exquisite completion of that of Mantegna, as the pictures of Raffaelle and Titian display the progress and perfection of those of Perugino and Giovanni Bellini.” The authentic documents revealed by the three savans before mentioned, show that Correggio was most highly esteemed by his cotemporaries, and that he associated with persons of rank and letters. On two occasions he passed some time at Padua, with the Marchese Manfredo, and the celebrated patroness of arts and letters, Veronica Gambara, relict of Gilberto, Lord of Correggio. That he was cheerful and lively, may be inferred from the expression of a writer concerning him: “_La vivacitá e dal brio del nostro Antonio_;” yet affectionate and gentle, as is evident from his being sponsor on three occasions to infants of his friends (in 1511, 1516, and 1518), before he had reached his twenty-second year. In 1520 he was admitted by diploma, as a brother of the Congregation Cassinensi, in the monastery of St. John the Evangelist, at Parma--the fraternity to which the illustrious Tasso belonged. In the same year he married Girolama Merlini, a lady of good family, amiable disposition, and great beauty, who was his model for the Zingara, probably after the birth of his first child. By this lady he had one son and three daughters. In 1529, to his great affliction, she died, and was buried by her own request in the church of St. John at Parma. Correggio did not marry again. He died suddenly on the fifth day of March, 1534, aged forty years, and was buried with solemnities worthy of his great endowments, in the church of San Francesco, at the foot of the altar in the chapel of the Arrivabene.

ANNIBALE CARACCI’S OPINION OF CORREGGIO’S GRAND CUPOLA AT PARMA.

“I went,” says Annibale Caracci, in a letter to his cousin Lodovico, “to see the grand cupola, which you have so often commended to me, and am quite astonished. To observe so large a composition, so well contrived; and seen from below with such great exactness; and at the same time, such judgment, such grace, and coloring of real flesh, good God, not Tibaldi, not Nicolini, nor even I may say, Raffaelle himself, can be compared with him. I know not how many paintings I have seen this morning; the Ancona, or altar-piece of St. John, and St. Catharine, and the Madonna della Scodella going to Egypt, and I swear, I would change none of these for the St. Cecilia. To speak of the graces of this St. Catharine, who so gracefully lays her head on the feet of the beautiful little Savior; is she not more lovely than the St. Mary Magdalen? That fine old man St. Jerome, is he not grander, and at the same time more tender than that St. Paul, which first appeared to me a miracle, and now seems like a piece of wood, it is so hard and sharp. However you must have patience even for your own Parmiggiano, because I now acknowledge that I have learnt from this great man, to imitate all his grace, though at a great distance; for the children of Correggio breathe and smile with such a grace and truth, that one cannot refrain from smiling and enjoying one’s self with them.

“I write to my brother that he must come, for he will see things which he could never have believed,--18th April, 1580.

“I have been to the Steccata, and the Zocoli, and have observed what you told me many times, and what I now confess to be true; but I will say that, to my taste, Parmeggiano bears no comparison with Correggio, because the thoughts and conceptions of Correggio were his own, evidently drawn from his own mind, and invented by himself, guided only by the original idea. The others all rest on something not their own; some on models, some on statues or drawings: all the productions of the others are represented as they may be; all of this man as they truly are.

“The opportunities which Agostino wished for, have not occurred; and this appears to me a country, which one never could have believed so totally devoid of good taste and of the delights of a painter, for they do nothing but eat and drink, and make love. I promised to impart to you my sentiments; but I confess I am so confused that it is impossible. I rage and weep, to think of the misfortune of poor Antonio; so great a man, if indeed he were a man, and not an angel in the flesh, to be lost here, in a country where he was unknown, and though worthy of immortality, here to die unhappily. He and Titian will always be my delight: and if I do not see the works of the latter at Venice, I shall not die content.--April 28, 1580.”

CORREGGIO’S ENTHUSIASM.

Among the many legends respecting Correggio, it is related that when he first contemplated one of the masterpieces of Raffaelle, his brow colored, his eye brightened, and he exclaimed, “I also am a painter!” When Titian first saw the great works of Correggio at Parma, he said, “Were I not Titian, I would wish to be Correggio.”

CORREGGIO’S GRACE.

No one can contemplate the works of Correggio, without being captivated by that peculiar beauty which the Italians have very appropriately distinguished by the epithet _Correggiesque_, for it was the complexion of the individual mind and temperament of the artist, stamped upon the work of his hand. No one approached him in this respect, if perhaps we except Lionardo da Vinci. Though so often imitated, it remains in fact inimitable; an attempt degenerating into affectation of the most intolerable kind. It consists in the blending of sentiment in expression, with flowing, graceful forms, an exquisite fullness and softness in the tone of color, and an almost illusive chiaro-scuro, all together conveying to the mind of the spectator the most delightful impression of harmony, both spiritual and sensual. He is the painter of _beauty_ par excellence; he is to us what Apelles was to the ancients--the standard of the amiable and the graceful.

CORREGGIO AND THE MONKS.

The pleasure which the monks derived from the works of Correggio, even in their incipient state, and the esteem which they had for him, is manifested by a remarkable document. This is a letter or patent of confraternity, passed in the general assembly of the order, held at Pratalea, in the latter end of 1521; a privilege which was eagerly sought at this and earlier periods, and was seldom conferred on persons not eminent for rank or talents. It conveyed a participation in the spiritual benefits derived from the prayers, masses, alms, and other pious works of the community, and was coupled with an engagement to perform the same offices for the repose of his soul, and the souls of his family, as were performed for their own members.

CORREGGIO’S MULETEER.

It is said that Correggio painted a picture of a muleteer, as a sign to a small public house, which was kept by a man who had frequently obliged him, and who had been a muleteer. This picture was purchased by a person sent to Italy many years ago to collect ancient paintings. It has all the marks in the upper corner, of having been joined to a piece of wood, and used for a sign; it cost five hundred guineas!

DUKE OF WELLINGTON’S CORREGGIO CAPTURED AT VITTORIA.