Chapter II: Engravings (8)

The cards that might be styled those of Charles VII., which appear to us to convey some reminiscence of the _ballet des ardents_, have no inscription but the name of the cardmaker. But in the other pack of the same date the “knave of clubs” bears as a legend the word _Rolan_; the “king of clubs,” _Sans Souci_; the “queen of clubs,” _Tromperie_; the “king of diamonds,” _Corsube_; the “queen of diamonds,” _En toi te fie_; the “king of spades,” _Apollin_, &c. This collection of names reveals to us the threefold influence of the Saracenic origin of playing-cards, the ideas conveyed at that period to the mind by the reading of the old romances of chivalry, and the effect of contemporary events. In fact, in the ancient epics, _Apollin_ (or Apollo) is a deity by whom the Saracens were accustomed to swear; _Corsube_ is a knight of Cordova (_Corsuba_). _Sans Souci_ is evidently one of those _sobriquets_ which squires acquired the habit of adopting at the time they were proving themselves worthy of the title of knight. Roland, the mighty Paladin who died at Roncevaux fighting against the Saracens, seems to have been placed upon the cards in order to oppose the memory of his glory to that of the infidel kings. The queen “_En toi te fie_” might well allude to Joan of Arc. The queen “_Tromperie_” recalls to mind Isabel of Bavaria, who was an unfaithful wife and a cruel mother; and, moreover, had betrayed France to England. All these ideas are doubtless mere suppositions, but such as a critical examination of a more minute and extended character would perhaps succeed in changing into unquestionable certainties.

Next after the cards of the time of Charles VII. follow, as the most ancient in point of date, two packs which certainly belong to the reign of Louis XII. One of these packs does not bear any kind of legend; in the other the “king of hearts” is called _Charles_; the “king of diamonds,” _Cæsar_; the “king of clubs,” _Arthur_; the “king of spades,” _David_; the “queen of hearts,” _Héleine_; the “queen of diamonds,” _Judith_; the “queen of clubs,” _Rachel_; the “queen of spades,” _Persabée_ (doubtless for Bathsheba).

In a pack of cards belonging to the reign of Francis I., the “king of clubs” becomes _Alexander_, and the name of _Judith_ is transferred to the “queen of hearts;” and for the first time (at least in the specimens which have been preserved) some of the “knaves” bear special names--the “knave of hearts” is _La Hire_, and the “knave of diamonds” _Hector of Trois_ (_sic_).

A few years later, about the time of the battle of Pavia and of the king’s captivity, the influence of Spanish and Italian fashions begins to affect the legends on packs of cards. It is remarked that the “knave of spades,” which presents nothing in the way of a legend but the name of the cardmaker, is made to resemble Charles-Quint (Fig. 211). The three other knaves bear the singular denominations of _Prien Roman_, _Capita Fili_, and _Capitane Vallant_. The kings are: “hearts,” _Julius Cæsar_; “diamonds,” _Charles_; “clubs,” _Hector_; “spades,” _David_. The queens are: “hearts,” _Héleine_; “diamonds,” _Lucresse_; “clubs,” _Pentaxlée_ (Penthesilea); “spades,” _Beciabée_ (Bathsheba).

In the reign of Henry II., the names given to the personages come much nearer to the arrangement observed in our present cards. _Cæsar_ is the “king of diamonds;” _David_, the “king of spades;” _Alexander_, the “king of clubs.” _Rachel_ is the “queen of diamonds;” _Argine_, of “clubs;” _Pallas_, of “spades.” _Hogier_, _Hector of Troy_, and _La Hire_, are the “knaves” of “spades,” “diamonds,” and “hearts,” respectively.

At the time of Henry III., who devoted himself much more to regulating the fashions than to governing his kingdom, and was the first to grant statutes to the association of cardmakers, the pack of cards became the mirror of the extravagant fashions of this effeminate reign. The “kings” have the pointed beard, the starched collar, the plumed hat, the breeches puffing out round the loins, the slashed doublet, and the tight-fitting hose. The “queens” have their hair drawn back and crisped, the dress close round the body, and made _à vertugarde_ (in the form of a hoop-petticoat). We see a _Dido_, an _Elizabeth_, and a _Clotilde_, make their appearance in the respective characters of “queens” of “diamonds,” “hearts,” and “spades.” Among the kings figure _Constantine_, _Clovis_, _Augustus_, and _Solomon_.

The valiant Béarnais[26] mounts the throne, and the cards still reflect the aspect of his court. But soon _Astrea_ and a whole _cortége_ of tender and gallant heroes begin to assume an influence over refined minds, and we then find _Cyrus_ and _Semiramis_ as “king and queen” of diamonds; _Roxana_ is the “queen of hearts” (Fig. 214), _Ninus_ the “king of spades,” &c.

In the regency of Marie de Medicis, in the reign of Louis XIII., or rather of Richelieu, in the time of Anne of Austria and Louis XIV., playing-cards continued to assume the character of the period, following the whim of the court, or the fancy of the cardmaker. At a certain time they began to take an Italian character. The “king of diamonds” was called _Carel_; his queen, _Lucresi_; the “queen of spades,” _Barbera_; the “queen of clubs,” _Penthamée_; the “knave of diamonds,” _capit. Melu_.

A vast field of investigation would lie before us if, in tracing out the detailed history of these numerous variations, we were to endeavour to distinguish and settle the different causes which gave rise to them. One fact must certainly strike any one devoting himself to such inquiry; he would see that, in contradistinction to the changes which have affected the personages on the cards and their names, a continuous state of stability has been the characteristic of the four suits in the French cards or the piquet-pack, which were adopted from the very commencement, and that no attempt has ever been made against their arrangement and nature. _Cœur_ (hearts), _carreau_ (diamonds), _trèfle_ (clubs), and _pique_ (spades)--these were the divisions established by La Hire or Chevalier, and they are still faithfully maintained in the present day, although at various times endeavours have been made to define their symbolical signification.

For a long time the opinion of Father Menestrier was the prevalent one; that “hearts” were an emblem of the clergy or the choir (_chœur_); “diamonds,” of the citizens, who had their rooms paved with square tiles; “clubs,” of labourers; and “spades,” of military men. But Menestrier was in egregious error. A much clearer view of the matter was taken by Father Daniel, who, like all sensible interpreters, recognising in cards a game of an essentially military character, asserted that “hearts” denoted the courage of the commanders and soldiers; “clubs” (_trèfle_--“trefoil”) the stores of forage; “spades” and “diamonds,” the magazines of arms. This was a view which, as we think, comes much closer to the real interpretation of the suits; and Bullet was still nearer the mark when he recognised _offensive_ arms in “clubs” and “spades,” and _defensive_ arms in “hearts” and “diamonds.” The first were the sword and the lance; the second, the target and the shield.

But in order to do full honour to French cards, we must not exclude from our attention the _tarots_, which preceded our game of piquet, and continued to be simultaneously used even in France.

The Spanish and Italian cardmakers, who had been nearly always established in France, made a large quantity of _tarots_ (Fig. 215); but they made a certain concession to French politeness by substituting “queens” for the “cavaliers” of their national game. We must remark here, that even at the epoch of the conquests of Charles VIII. and Louis XII., French cards with the four “queens” replacing the “cavaliers” never succeeded in nationalising themselves in Italy, and still less in Spain; on the contrary, the fact was that as regards this point of fashion, the vanquished people obtained the advantage over their conquerors, and the _tarots_ came into full favour among the victorious soldiery.

The Spaniards must certainly have received the Oriental _naïb_ from the Moors and Saracens a long time prior to the introduction of this game into Europe at Viterbo; but we have no written proofs which certify to the existence of cards among the Saracens of Spain. The first document in which they are mentioned is the edict of John I., of the date of 1387, to which reference has been made. Certain _savants_ have endeavoured to ascertain the signification of the four suits of the Spanish _naypes_, and have fancied that they could distinguish in them a special symbolism. In their view, the _dineros_, _copas_, _bastos_, and _spadas_, denoted the four estates which composed the population: the merchants, who have the money; the priests, who hold the chalice or cup; the peasantry, who handle the staff; and the nobles, who wear the sword. This explanation, although ingenious, does not appear to us to be based on any very solid foundation. The signs or suits of the numeral cards were fixed upon in the East, and Spain as well as Italy merely adopted them without taking much trouble to penetrate into their allegorical meaning. The Spaniards became so addicted to this game that they soon preferred it to any other recreation; and we know that when the companions of Christopher Columbus, who had just discovered America, formed their first settlement at St. Domingo, they almost instantly set to work to make playing-cards out of the leaves of trees.

There can be no doubt that playing-cards very soon made their way from Italy into Germany; but as they advanced towards the North they almost immediately lost their Oriental characteristics and Saracenic name. There is, in fact, no longer any etymological trace to be found in the old German language of the words _naïb_, _naïbi_, or _naypes_. Cards were called

_Briefe_, that is, letters; the game itself _Spielbriefe_, game of letters; the earliest cardmakers were _Briefmaler_, painters of letters. The four suits of the _Briefe_ were neither Italian nor French in character; they bore the name of _Schellen_, “bells” (Figs. 216, 217, 218), or _roth_ (red), _grün_ (green), and _Eicheln_ (acorns) (Fig. 219). The Germans, in their love of symbolism, had comprehended the real original signification of the game of cards, and although they introduced many marked changes, they made it their study, at least in principle, to preserve its military characteristics. Their suits depicted, it is said, the triumphs or the honours of war--the crowns of oak-leaves or ivy, the bells were the bright insignia of the German nobility, and the purple was the recompense of their valiant warriors. The Germans were careful not to admit ladies into the thoroughly warlike company of kings, captains (_ober_), and officers (_unter_). The ace was always the flag, the warlike emblem _par excellence_; in addition to this, the oldest game was the _Landsknecht_, or lansquenet (Fig. 220), the distinctive term of the soldier.

We are speaking here only of the earliest German cards, for, after a certain date, the essential form and emblematical rules of the pack depended on nothing but the fancy and whim of the maker or the engraver. The figures were but seldom designated by a proper name, but often bore devices in German or Latin. Among the collections of ancient cards we find one pack half German and half French, with the names of the Pagan gods. There are also several sets of cards with five suits (of fourteen cards each), among others those of “roses” and “pomegranates.”

The Germans were the first who entertained the idea of applying cards to the instruction of youth; and, as it were, of moralising a game of chance by making it express all the categories of scholastic science. Thomas Murner, a Franciscan monk, and professor of philosophy, made in 1507 an attempt of this kind (Fig. 221.) He designed a pack of fifty-two cards, divided into sixteen suits, corresponding to the same number of scholastic treatises; each card is covered with so many symbols that a description would resemble the setting forth of some obscure riddle (_ténébreux logogriphe_). The German universities, which were far from being dismayed at a little mysticism, were only the more eager to study the arcana of grammar and logic while playing at cards. Imitations of Murner’s cards were multiplied _ad infinitum_.

A game and pack of cards attributed to the celebrated Martin Schœngauer, or to one of his pupils, must also be dated in the fifteenth century. The cards are distinguished by their form, number, and design; they are round in shape, and much resemble Persian cards, are painted on ivory and covered with arabesques, flowers, and birds. This pack, only a few pieces of which now exist in some of the German collections, was composed of fifty-two cards divided into four numeral series of nine cards each, and with four figures in each series--the king, the queen, the squire, and the knave. The suits or marks are the “Hare,” the “Parrot,” the “Carnation,” and the “Columbine.” Each of the aces represents the type of the suit, and they bear philosophical devices in Latin. The four figures of the “Parrot” suit are of African character; those of the “Hare” are Asiatic or Turkish; those of the “Carnation” and the “Columbine” belong to Europe. The “kings” and “queens” are on horseback; the “squires” and “knaves” are so similar that it is difficult to distinguish them, with the exception of the knaves of “Columbine” and “Carnation” (Figs. 222 to 227).

The English also were in possession of playing-cards at an early date, obtaining them through the medium of the trade which they carried on with the Hanseatic towns and Holland; but they did not manufacture cards before the end of the sixteenth century; for we know that in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the Government retained in its own hands the monopoly of playing-cards, “which were imported from abroad.” The English, while adopting indiscriminately cards of a German, French, Italian, or Spanish character, gave to the _valet_ the characteristic appellation of “knave.”[27]

1. “King of Parrots.”

2. “Queen of Carnations.”

3. “Knave of Columbine.”

4. “Knave of Hares.”

5. “Three of Parrots.”

6. “Ace of Carnations.”

(Bibl. Imp. of Paris.)]

Wood-engraving, which was invented at the commencement of the fifteenth century, and perhaps even before, must have been applied at the very first and almost simultaneously to the reproduction of sacred pictures and the manufacture of playing-cards. Holland and Germany have contended for the honour of having been the cradle of this invention. Taking advantage of this, they have also even thought themselves warranted in laying claim to the credit of the original manufacture of cards;

whereas the fact is that all they can claim is to have been the first to produce them by some more expeditious method of making. According to the opinion of several _savants_, Laurent Coster of Haerlem was only an engraver of wood-blocks for cards and pictures, before he became a printer of books. It certainly is a fact that wood-engraving, which was for a long time limited to a few studios in Holland and Upper Germany, owed a large share of its progress to the trade in playing-cards--one which was carried on with such activity that, as we read in an old chronicle of the city of Ulm, about the year 1397, “they were in the habit of sending playing-cards in bales to Italy, Sicily, and other southern countries, to exchange for groceries and various merchandise.”

A few years later, engraving on metal or copper-plate was employed in producing playing-cards of a really artistic character, among which we may mention those of “The Master of 1466” (Figs. 228 and 229), and by his anonymous rivals. The pack of cards of this engraver exists only in a small number of print-collections, and it is in every case incomplete. As far as we can judge, it must have been composed of sixty cards, consisting of forty numeral cards divided into five series, and twenty picture-cards, being four to each series. The figures are the king, queen, knight, and knave. The suits, or marks, present rather a strange selection of wild men, ferocious quadrupeds, deer, birds of prey, and various flowers. These objects are numerically grouped and tolerably well arranged, so as to allow the numbers indicated to be distinguished at first sight.

Thus, as we have seen, playing-cards made their way through Arabia from India to Europe, where they first arrived about the year 1370. Within a few years they spread from the south to the north of the latter country; but those who, under the influence of a passion for play, had so eagerly welcomed them, were far indeed from suspecting that this new game contained within itself the germ of two of the most beautiful inventions ever devised by the human mind--those of engraving and printing. There can be no doubt that playing-cards were in use for many a long year, ere the public voice had proclaimed the almost simultaneous discovery of the arts of engraving on wood and metal, and of printing.

GLASS-PAINTING.

Painting on Glass mentioned by Historians in the Third Century of
our Era.--Glazed Windows at Brioude in the Sixth Century.--Coloured
Glass at St. John Lateran and St. Peter’s in Rome.--Church-Windows
of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries in France: Saint-Denis,
Sens, Poitiers, Chartres, Rheims, &c.--In the Fourteenth and
Fifteenth Centuries the Art was at its Zenith.--Jean Cousin.--The
Célestins of Paris; Saint-Gervais.--Robert Pinaigrier and his
Sons.--Bernard Palissy decorates the Chapel of the Castle of
Ecouen.--Foreign Art; Albert Dürer.

We have already established the fact that the art of manufacturing and colouring glass was known to the most ancient nations; and, says Champollion-Figeac, “if we study the various fragments of this fragile substance that have been handed down to our time, if we take into consideration the varied ornamentation with which they are covered, even the human figures which some of them represent, it would be difficult to assert that antiquity was unacquainted with the means of combining glass with painting. If antiquity did not produce what are now called painted-windows, the real cause doubtless was because the custom of employing glass in windows did not then exist.” Some few specimens of it have, however, been found in the windows of the houses exhumed at Pompeii; but this must have been an exception, for the third century of our era is the earliest date in which traces are found in history of window-glass being used in buildings; and we must bring down our researches as late as the times of St. John Chrysostom and St. Jerome (the fourth century) in order to find any reliable affirmation as to its adoption.

In the sixth century Gregory of Tours relates that a soldier broke the glass-window of a church at Brioude in order to enter it secretly and commit robbery; and we know that when this prelate caused the restoration of the Church of St. Martin of Tours, he took care to fill its windows with glass “of varied colours.” About the same time Fortunatus, the poet-bishop of Poitiers, highly extols the splendour of the glass-window of a church in Paris, the name of which he does not mention; but the learned investigations of Foncemagne with reference to the first kings of France inform us that the church built at Paris by Childebert I. in honour of the Holy Cross and St. Vincent, as well as the churches of Lyons and Bourges, were closed in with glass-windows. Du Cange, in his “Constantinople Chrétienne,” describes the glass-windows of the basilica of St. Sophia, rebuilt by Justinian; and Paul, the Silentiary,[28] dwells with enthusiasm on the marvellous effect produced by the rays of the sun upon this assemblage of various coloured glasses.

In the eighth century, the epoch at which the use of glass-windows was becoming general, the basilica of St. John Lateran and the Church of St. Peter at Rome possessed coloured glass-windows; and Charlemagne, who had caused mosaics of coloured glass to be made in a large number of churches, did not fail to avail himself of this kind of ornament in the cathedral erected by him at Aix-la-Chapelle.

Up to this time the only method of making glass was in small pieces, generally round, and designated by the name of _cires_, a number of which by means of a network of plaster, wooden frames, or strips of lead, were used to fill up the windows. This material being, however, very costly, it could only be introduced into edifices of great importance. Added to this, it can scarcely be a source of wonder if, at a time when all branches of art had relapsed into a sort of barbarism, and glass was only exceptionally employed in ordinary purposes, no one thought of decorating it with painted figures and ornaments.

With regard to mosaic, either in marble or coloured glass, Martial, Lucretius, and other writers of antiquity, mention it in their works. Egypt had a knowledge of it even before Greece; the Romans were accustomed to employ it in ornamenting the roofs and pavement of their temples, and even their columns and streets. Some magnificent specimens of these decorations have remained to our time, and they are considered as inseparable from the architecture of the emperors.

Some have desired to attribute the custom of employing coloured glass in mosaics to the rarity of coloured marbles. Would it not be a more probable hypothesis that the simultaneous use of marble and glass for this purpose was the result of improvements in the art of making mosaics? for glass that, by metallic mixtures, may be brought to a variety of colours, is much more easily adapted to pictorial combinations than marble, the tints of which are the result of the caprices of nature. Seneca, alluding to the use of coloured glasses in mosaic, complains of people not being able “to walk except on precious stones;” this shows how prevalent the use of rich mosaics had become in Rome. But this art must have singularly fallen into decay, for the few examples of the kind we now possess, which date from the first centuries of Christianity, are marked with a character of simplicity that fully harmonises with the rudeness of the artists of those times. Among these specimens must be mentioned a pavement discovered at Rheims, upon which are represented the twelve signs of the zodiac, the seasons of the year, and Abraham’s Sacrifice; another on which are depicted Theseus and the labyrinth of Crete, in juxtaposition with David and Goliath. It is, moreover, known that there existed in the Forum of Naples a portrait in mosaic of Theodoric, king of the Goths, who had caused a representation of the Baptism of Christ to be executed, in the church of Ravenna, by the same process. Sidonius Apollinaris, describing the excessive luxury of Consentius at Narbonne, speaks of arches and pavements ornamented with mosaics. The churches of St. John Lateran, St. Clement, and St. George in Velabro, at Rome, still display mosaics of this period. Lastly, Charlemagne caused the greater part of the churches constructed by him to be ornamented with mosaics.

To return to glass-work, we find that in the time of Charles the Bald, in 863, mention is made of two artisans, Ragenat and Balderic, who became as it were the heads of the race of French glass-makers. We also learn from the chronicle of St. Benignus of Dijon, that in 1052 there existed in that church a “very ancient painted window,” representing St. Paschasie, which was said to have been taken from the earlier church. We have therefore a right to conclude that at this period the custom of painting on glass had long been common.

In the tenth century glass-makers must have acquired some degree of importance, for the reigning Dukes of Normandy of that era established certain privileges in their favour; but, says Champollion-Figeac, “as all privilege was the prerogative of the order of nobility, they contrived to give them to noble families whose fortunes were precarious. Four Norman families obtained this distinction. But although it was understood that in devoting themselves to the trade these titled individuals incurred no degradation, it was never said, as is commonly believed, that the profession of this art conferred nobility; on the contrary, a proverb arose which long continued in use, namely, that ‘in order to make a gentleman glass-maker, you must first take a gentleman.’”

Although painting on glass was from that time carried on with considerable activity, in many cases it was still very far from being accomplished by the processes which were destined to make it one of the most remarkable productions of art. The application of the brush to vitrifiable colours was not generally adopted. In the examples of this period that remain to our days, we indeed find large _cives_ cast in white glass, upon which characters were painted by the artist; but, as the colour was not designed to be incorporated with the glass by the action of fire, with a view to ensure the preservation of the painting, another transparent but thick _cive_ was placed over the first and closely soldered to it.

While glass-painting was thus seeking to perfect its processes, mosaic work gradually declined. Only a very small number of mosaics of the tenth and eleventh centuries exist at the present day, and these, moreover, are very incorrect in design, and entirely wanting in taste and colour.

In the twelfth century all the arts began to revive. The fear of the end of the world, which had thrown mankind into a strange state of perturbation, was dissipated. The Christian faith everywhere stirred up the zeal of its disciples. Magnificent cathedrals with imposing arches sprang up in various places, and the art of the glass-maker came to the aid of architecture in order to diffuse over the interiors consecrated to worship the light, both prismatic and harmonious, which affords the calm, necessary for holy meditation. But though, in the painted windows of this period, we are forced to admire the ingenious combinatian of colours for the rose-work (rose-windows), the case is very different as regards the drawing and colouring of the designs. The figures are generally traced in rough, stiff lines on glass of a dull tint, which absorbs all the expression of the heads; the entire drapery of the costume is heavy; the figure is spoilt by the folds of

its vestments as if it were enclosed in a long sheath. This is the general character of the examples of that period as they are known to us (Fig. 231).

The painted windows which Suger made to adorn the abbey-church of St. Denis, some of which exist in our days, date from the twelfth century. The abbot made inquiries in every country, and gathered together at a great expense the best artists he could find, in order to assist in this decoration. The Adoration of the Magi, the Annunciation, the History of Moses, and various allegories, are there represented in the chapel of the Virgin and those of St. Osman and St. Hilary. Among the principal pictures may be also observed a portrait of Suger himself at the feet of the Virgin. The borders surrounding the subjects may be considered as models of harmony and good arrangement of effect; but still the taste shown in the selection and combination of colours is carried to the highest point in the subjects themselves, the designs of which are very excellent.

In the Church of St. Maurice, at Angers, we find examples of a rather earlier date--perhaps the most ancient specimens of painted windows in France; these are the history of St. Catherine and that of the Virgin, which, in truth, are not equal in merit, as regards execution and taste, to the ancient windows of the Church of St. Denis.

We still have to mention some fragments contained in the Church of St. Serge, and the chapel of the Hospital, in the town of Angers; also a glass-window in the Abbey of Fontevrault; another in the Church of St. Peter, at Dreux, in which is represented Queen Anne of Brittany. We will, in conclusion, mention one of the windows of the choir in the Church of the Trinity, at Vendôme; it represents the Glorification of the Virgin, who bears on her forehead an aureola, the shape of which, called _amandaire_,[29] has furnished archæologists with a subject for long discussions; some being desirous of proving that this aureola, which does not appear to be depicted in the same way on any other painted window, tends to show that the works of the Poitevine glass-makers, to whom it is attributed, had been subject to the influence of the Byzantine school; others assert that the almond-shaped crown is a symbol exclusively reserved for the Virgin. Before we proceed to the examples handed down to us from the twelfth century, we must mention some remains of glass to be seen at Chartres, Mans, Sens, and Bourges (Fig. 232), &c. We may also add, as an incident not without interest, that a chapter of the order of the Cistercians, considering the great expense to which the acquisition of painted windows led, prohibited the use of them in churches under the rule of St. Bernard.

“The architecture of the thirteenth century,” according to the judicious remarks of Champollion-Figeac, “by its style of moulding, which is more slender and graceful than the massive forms of Roman art, opened a wider and more favourable field for artists in glass. The small pillars then projected, and extended themselves with a novel elegance, and the tapering and delicate spires of the steeples lost themselves in the clouds. The windows occupied more space, and likewise had the appearance of springing lightly and gracefully upwards. They were adorned with symbolical ornaments, griffins, and other fantastic animals; leaves and boughs cross and intertwine with one another, producing that varied rose-work which is the admiration of modern glass-makers. The colours are more skilfully combined and better blended than in the windows of the preceding century; and although some of the figures are still wanting in expression, and have not thrown off all the stiffness which characterised them, the draperies, at least, are lighter and better drawn.” Examples of the thirteenth century which have remained to our time are very numerous. There is at Poitiers some painted glass composed of small roses, and chiefly placed in one of the windows in the centre of the church and in the “Calvary” of the apse; at Sens, the legend of St. Thomas of Canterbury is represented in a number of small medallions, called _verrières légendaires_; at Mans is glass representing the corporations of trades; at Chartres, the painted glass in the cathedral, a work both magnificent and extensive, contains no fewer than one thousand three hundred and fifty subjects, distributed throughout one hundred and forty-three windows. At Rheims, the painted glass is perhaps less important, but it is remarkable both for the brilliancy of its colours and also for its characteristic fitness to the style of the edifice. Bourges, Tours, Angers, and Notre-Dame in Paris, present very beautiful specimens. The Cathedral of Rouen possesses, to this day, a window which bears the name of Clement of Chartres, _master glazier_, the first artist of this kind who has left behind him any work bearing his signature. We must, in conclusion, mention the Sainte-Chapelle, Paris, which is unquestionably the highest representation of what the art is capable of producing. The designs of the windows in this last edifice are _legendary_, and although some few inaccuracies may be noticed in the figures, the fault is redeemed by the studied elegance of the ornamentation and the harmony of colours, which combine to render them one of the most consistent and perfect works of painting on glass.

In the thirteenth century “_grisaille_” first made its appearance; it was quite a new style, and has been often since employed in the borders and ornaments of painted windows. “_Grisaille_,”[30] the name of which is to some extent sufficient to describe its aspect, was used simultaneously with the mosaics of variegated glass, as we see in the Church of St. Thomas, Strasbourg, in the Cathedral of Freybourg in Brisgau, and in many churches of Bourges.

The large number of paintings on glass belonging to the thirteenth century, which may still be studied in various churches, has given rise to the idea of classifying all these monuments, and arranging them under certain schools, which have been designated by the names of _Franco-Norman_, _Germanic_, &c. Some have even gone further, and desired to recognise in the style peculiar to the artists of ancient France a Norman style, a Poitevin style (the latter recognisable, it is said, by the want of harmony in the colours), &c. We can hardly admit these last distinctions, and are the less inclined to do so, as those who propound them seem to base their theories rather on the defects than the good qualities of the artists. Besides, at a period in which a nobleman sometimes possessed several provinces very distant from each other--as, for example, Anjou and Provence--it might so happen that the artists he took with him to his different residences could scarcely fail, by the union of their various works, to cause any provincial influences to disappear, and would finally reduce the distinction between what is called the Poitevin style, the Norman style, &c., to a question of a more or less skilful manufacture, or of a more or less advanced improvement.

In the fourteenth century the artist in glass became separated from the architect; although naturally subordinate to the designer of the edifice, in which the windows were to be only an accessory ornament, he wished to give effect to his own inspiration. The whole of the building was subjected by him to the effect of his more learned and correct drawing, and his purer and more striking colouring. It mattered little to him should some part of the church have too much light, or not light enough, if a flood of radiance deluged the apse or the choir, instead of being gradually diffused everywhere, as in earlier buildings. He desired his labour to recommend him, and his work to do him honour.

The court-poets, Guillaume de Machaut and Eustache Deschamps, celebrate in their poems several works in painted glass of their time, and even give some details in verse on the mode of fabricating them.

In 1347 a royal ordinance was proclaimed in favour of the workmen of Lyons. The custom existed at that time of adorning with painted windows royal and lordly habitations. The artists produced their own designs, adapting them to the use that was made, in private life, of the halls for which they were intended. Some of these windows representing familiar legends adorned even the churches (Fig. 233).

Among the most important works of the fourteenth century, we must mention in the first place the windows of the cathedrals of Mans, Beauvais, Évreux (Fig. 234), and the rose-windows of St. Thomas at Strasbourg. Next come the windows of the Church of St. Nazaire at Carcassonne and of the Cathedral of Narbonne. There are, besides, in the Church of St. John at Lyons, in Notre-Dame of Semur, in Aix in Provence, at Bourges, and at Metz, church-windows in every respect worthy of attention.

The fifteenth century only continues the traditions of the preceding one. The principal works dating from this epoch begin, according to the order of merit, with the window of the Cathedral of Mans, which represents Yolande[31] of Aragon, and Louis II., King of Naples and Sicily, ancestors of the good King René; after them we shall place the windows of the Sainte-Chapelle, Riom; St. Vincent, Rouen; the Cathedral of Tours; and that of Bourges, representing a memorial of Jacques Cœur, &c.

The sixteenth century, although bringing with it, owing to religious troubles, many ravages of new iconoclasts, has handed down to us a variety of numerous and remarkable church-windows. We are, of course, unable to mention them all; but it seems expedient--adopting the rule of most archæologists--to divide them into three branches or schools, which are actually formed by the different styles of the artists of that epoch; the French school, the German school, and the Lorraine school (Fig. 235), which partakes of the characteristics of the two preceding.

At the head of the French school figures the celebrated Jean Cousin, who decorated the chapel of Vincennes; he also made for the Célestins monastery, Paris, a representation of Calvary; for St. Gervais, in 1587, the windows representing the “Martyrdom of St. Lawrence,” the “Samaritan conversing with Christ,” and the “Paralytic.” In these works, which belong to a high style of painting, the best method of arrangement, vigorous drawing, and powerful colouring, seem to reflect the work of Raphael. Windows in “_grisaille_,” made from the cartoons of Jean Cousin, also decorated the Castle of Anet.

Another artist, named Robert Pinaigrier, who, although inferior to Cousin, was much more fertile in production, assisted by his sons Jean, Nicholas, and Louis, and several of his pupils, executed a number of windows for the churches of Paris, of which the greater part have disappeared: Saint-Jacques la Boucherie, the Madeleine, Sainte-Croix en la Cité, Saint Barthélemy, &c. Magnificent specimens of his work still remain at Saint-Merry, Saint-Gervais, Saint-Etienne du Mont, and in the Cathedral of Chartres. Pinaigrier’s works in the decorations of châteaux and the mansions of the nobility are perhaps equally numerous.

At this period several windows were made from the drawings of Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, and Parmigiano; it may also be remarked that two patterns of the latter’s work were used by Bernard Palissy, who was a glass-maker before he became an enameller, in forming windows in “_grisaille_” for the chapel of the Château of Ecouen. For the same place, following the style of Raphael, and from the drawings of Rosso, called _Maître Roux_, Bernard Palissy executed thirty pictures on glass, representing the history of Psyche, which are justly considered as ranking among the most beautiful compositions of the epoch; but it is not now known what has become of these valuable windows, which at the Revolution were transported to the Museum of French Monuments.

They were, it is said, executed under the direction of Leonard of Limoges, who, like all the masters of that school (Fig. 236), applied to painting on glass the processes of enamelling, and _vice versâ_. In the collections of the Louvre and of several amateurs, there are still examples of his composition, on which he employed the best glass-painters of his time; for he could not himself work on all the objects that proceeded from his studios, and which were almost exclusively destined for the king’s palace.

The French art of glass-working became cosmopolitan. It was introduced into Spain and also into the Low Countries under the protection of Charles V. and the Duke of Alba. It even appears to have crossed the Alps; for we know that in 1512 a glass-painter of the name of Claude adorned with his works the large windows of the Vatican; and Julius II. summoned Guillaume of Marseilles to the Eternal City, the pontiff when occupying the sees of Carpentras and Avignon having appreciated his talent. We must not omit to mention, among the Flemish artists who escaped this foreign influence, the name of Dirk of Haarlem (Fig. 237), the most celebrated master in this art at the close of the fifteenth century.

While French art was thus spreading over the continent, foreign art

was being introduced into France. Albert Dürer employed his pencil in painting twenty windows in the church of the Old Temple, in Paris, and produced a collection of pictures characterised by vigorous drawing, and warm and intense colouring. The celebrated German did not work alone--other artists assisted him; and, notwithstanding the devastations which took place during the Revolution, in many a church and mansion traces of these skilful masters may still be found; their compositions, which are generally as well arranged as they are executed, are marked with a tinge of German simplicity very suitable to the pious nature of the subjects they represent.

In 1600, Nicholas Pinaigrier placed in the windows of the Castle of La Briffe seven pictures in “_grisaille_,” copied from the designs of Francis Floris, a Flemish master, who was born in 1520. At this same period Van Haeck, Herreyn, John Dox, and Pelgrin Rösen, all belonging to the school of Antwerp, and other artists who had decorated the windows of most of the churches in Belgium, especially St. Gudule in Brussels, influenced either directly or indirectly the glass-painters of the east and north of France. Another group of artists, the Provençals, imitators of the Italian style, or rather perhaps inspired by the same luminary, the sun of Michael Angelo, trod a similar path to that which Jean Cousin, Pinaigrier, and Palissy had followed with so much renown. The chiefs of this school were Claude, and Guillaume of Marseilles, who, as we have just mentioned, carried their talent and their works into Italy, where they succeeded in educating some clever pupils.

With regard to the school of Messin or Lorraine, it is principally represented by a disciple of Michael Angelo, Valentin Bousch, the Alsatian, who died in 1541 at Metz, where he had executed, since 1521, an immense number of works. The windows of the churches of St. Barbe, St. Nicolas du Port, Autrey, and Flavigny-sur-Moselle, are due to the same school, in which Israel Henriet was also brought up; he became the chief of a school exclusively belonging to Lorraine, at the time when Charles III. had invited the arts to unite under the patronage of the ducal throne. Thierry Alix, in a “Description inédite de la Lorraine,” written in 1590, and mentioned by M. Bégin, speaks of “large plates of glass of all colours,” made in his time in the mountains of Vosges, where “all the herbs and other things necessary to painting” were found. M. Bégin, after having quoted this curious statement, adds that the windows which at that era were produced in the studios of Vosges, and subsequently carried to all parts of Europe, constituted a very active branch of commerce.

“Nevertheless,” says Champollion-Figeac, “art was declining. Christian art especially was disappearing, and had almost come to an end, when Protestantism stepped in and gave it the last blow; this is proved by the window in the cathedral church of Berne, in which the artist, Frederic

“FRANCIS I. AND ELEANOR HIS WIFE AT PRAYERS.”

PART OF A WINDOW IN THE CHURCH OF ST. GUDULE IN BRUSSELS. FROM
“L’HISTOIRE DE LA PEINTURE SUR VERRE EN EUROPE.”

This magnificent window was given to the Church of St. Gudule by
Francis I. and Eleanor of Spain, his wife, sister of Charles V.,
and widow by her first marriage of Emmanuel the Great, King of
Portugal.

The donors are represented kneeling, each one protected by his or
her patron saint; the king is attended by St. Francis of Assisi,
who is receiving in a vision the impress of the stigmata of Jesus
on the Cross; the queen is accompanied by St. Eleanor, who holds in
her hand the palm of the elect. This window is from a design by
Bernard van Orley.

Francis I. and Eleanor expended on the window two hundred and
twenty-two crowns, or four hundred florins, an important sum in
those days (1515-47).

Portion of a Stained Glass Window in the Church of St. Gudule at Brussels.]

Walter, dared to launch his satire against doctrine itself, and to ridicule transubstantiation by representing a pope shovelling four evangelists into a mill, from which come forth a number of wafers; these a bishop is receiving into a cup in order to distribute them to the wondering people. Any edification of the masses by the powerful effect of transparent images placed, so to speak, between the earth and heaven, soon ceased to be possible, and glass-painting, henceforth alienated from the special aim of its origin, was destined also to disappear.”

FRESCO-PAINTING.

The Nature of Fresco.--Employed by the Ancients.--Paintings at
Pompeii.--Greek and Roman Schools.--Mural Paintings destroyed by
the Iconoclasts and Barbarians.--Revival of Fresco, in the Ninth
Century, in Italy.--Fresco-Painters since Guido of
Siena.--Principal Works of these Painters.--Successors of Raphael
and Michael Angelo.--Fresco in _Sgraffito_.--Mural Paintings in
France from the Twelfth Century.--Gothic Frescoes of Spain.--Mural
Paintings in the Low Countries, Germany, and Switzerland.

“Too frequently in conversational language and even in the writings of grave authors,” says M. Ernest Breton, “the word _fresco_ is made synonymous with mural painting in general. This confusion of terms has sometimes caused the most fatal errors. The etymology of the word is the best definition of the subject. The Italians give the name of paintings _in fresco_ or _a fresco_, that is to say, _à frais_, or _sur le frais_, to those works executed upon damp stucco into which the colour penetrates to a certain depth. The ancient French authors, preserving the difference existing between the Italian _fresco_ and the French _frais_, wrote the word _fraisque_. At the present day Italian orthography has prevailed, and with us this word has now more relation to its etymology than its real signification.”

Whatever may be the common acceptation of the word, we must, in order to keep within the limits of our subject, here only take into consideration real frescoes, or in other words, works of art executed upon a bare wall, properly prepared for the purpose, with which they are as it were incorporated; for in the roll of art all are excluded from the catalogue of mural paintings, rightly so called, which, although applied to walls either directly or by the aid of panels or fixed canvas, are produced otherwise than with water-colours, and used in such a manner as to penetrate the special kind of plaster with which the wall had been previously covered. We will mention as a striking example of this the famous “Lord’s Supper” of Leonardo da Vinci, which has many times been called a fresco (it is well known to have been painted upon the wall of the refectory of Santa Maria della Gratia, at Milan), but is nothing but a painting in distemper[32] on a dry partition--a circumstance, by-the-bye, which has not a little contributed to the deterioration of this magnificent work.

Fresco has long been considered the most ancient style of painting. Vasari, who wrote in the middle of the sixteenth century, says in apt terms that “the ancients generally practised painting _in fresco_, and the first painters of the modern schools have only followed the antique methods;” and, in our own day, Millin, in his “Dictionnaire des Beaux-Arts,” asserts that the great paintings in the “Pœcile” of Athens and the “Lesche” of Delphi, by Panænus and Polygnotus, spoken of by Pausanias, were executed by this process; the same author also ranks among frescoes the numerous paintings left by the Egyptians in their temples and catacombs. “It was,” he remarks, “what the Romans called _in udo pariete pingere_ (to paint on a damp wall); they say _in cretula pingere_ (to paint on chalk) to designate water-colour painting on a dry ground.”

Some persons have considered the paintings found at Herculaneum and Pompeii to be frescoes; nevertheless Winckelmann, who is an authority in these matters, said, a hundred years ago, in speaking of those works, “It is to be remarked that the greater part of these pictures were not painted on damp lime, but upon a dry ground, which is rendered very evident by several of the figures having scaled off in such a way as to show distinctly the ground upon which they rest.”

The whole mistake has arisen from taking the expression “_in udo pariete_,” found in Pliny, in too literal a sense; the error, which might at all events have been dissipated by an attentive examination of the examples themselves, would not have lasted long if the passage from Pliny had been compared with a statement of Vitruvius, which informs us that they applied to fresh walls uniform tints of black, blue, yellow, or red, which were destined to form the grounds of paintings, or even allowed them to remain plain, like our present coloured walls. The employment of this process may also be easily recognised in the paintings of Pompeii, where this uniform colouring has sometimes penetrated nearly an inch into the stucco of the wall. On this ground, when it was perfectly dry, ornamental subjects were painted either in distemper or encaustic.

Thus, therefore, it is shown that the process of painting _in fresco_ was unknown to the ancients, and was invented by artists of succeeding times; but it would be difficult to assign any precise date to this invention; for however far we go back, we do not find any authors who fix the epoch at which the new method was for the first time followed. We are, therefore, compelled to notice the age of some particular example which shows that the discovery had then taken place, without being able to determine the exact date of its commencement.

Painting, which with the Greeks attained its greatest height in the reign of Alexander, fell, says M. Breton, “with the power of Greece. In losing its liberty, the country of the Fine Arts lost, too, the perception of the beautiful.” At Rome, painting never reached the same degree of perfection as it did in Greece; for a long time it was only practised by men of the lowest rank and by slaves. A few patricians, such as Amulius, Fabius _Pictor_ (painter), and Cornelius Pinus, were, at the best, able to bring about only some slight revival. After the twelve Cæsars, painting followed the movement of decadence which carried away with it all the arts; like them, it received its death-blow in the fourth century, on the day when Constantine, quitting Rome in order to establish the seat of empire at Byzantium, took with him into his new capital not only the best artists, but also a prodigious number of their productions, and of those of the artists who preceded them. Several other causes may also be mentioned as having led to the decline of art, or to the destruction of examples which would now bear witness to its power in remote ages. In the first place, there was the birth of Christian Art, which rose on the ruins of Paganism; then, the invasion of barbarians which took place in the fifth century; lastly, in the eighth and ninth centuries, the fury of the Iconoclasts, or Image-breakers, a sect at the head of which figured several emperors of the East, from Leo the Isaurian, who reigned in 717, down to Michael the Stammerer and Theophilus, who respectively ascended the imperial throne in 820 and 829.

Even among the ignorant masses, to whom we owe the loss of so many _chefs-d’œuvre_, were some individuals who formed honourable exceptions, not only by opposing the devastations, but also by manifesting a laudable conservative instinct. Cassiodorus tells us that Theodoric, king of the Goths, re-established the office of _centurio nitentium rerum_ (guardian of beautiful objects), instituted by the emperor Constantius; and we know that the Lombard kings who succeeded this prince and reigned in Italy for 218 years, although less zealous in the culture of the arts, did not fail to honour and protect them. In Paul the Deacon[33] we read that, in the sixth century, queen Teudelinde, wife of Autharis and afterwards of Agilulphus, caused the valorous deeds of the first Lombard kings to be painted on the _basilica_ that she had consecrated at Monza under the name of St. John. Other paintings of the same epoch may still be seen at Pavia. The Church of St. Nazaire at Verona possesses in its crypt paintings spoken of by Maffei, which have been engraved by Ciampini and Frisi: these must date back to the sixth and seventh centuries. Lastly, they have recently found in the subterranean chapel of the _basilica_ of St. Clement, in Rome, some admirable mural paintings, which archæologists refer to the same epoch.

The Eastern artists, driven away by the persecutions of the Iconoclasts, sought an asylum in Italy, where the Latin Church, obedient to the prescriptions of the Council of Nice, seemed determined to multiply sacred images as much as possible. The arrival of the Grecian artists in the West was also singularly promoted by the commercial relations which from that time were established between all points of the Mediterranean shore and the maritime or mercantile towns of Italy--Pisa, Genoa, and Venice. Thus was brought about the movement which, although taking place on Italian soil, drew from an entirely Eastern source the inspiration of the revival of the Fine Arts; thus was continued the so-called Byzantine school, destined to be the foundation of all modern art.

In 817 some Greek artists, by order of Pope Pascal I., executed under the portico of the Church of St. Cecilia in Rome a series of frescoes, the subjects of which were taken from the life of the saint. To the same school we are indebted for the sitting figures of Christ and His mother (Fig. 239), in the old Church of Santa-Maria Trans-Tiberia, in Rome; the large Madonna painted on the walls of Santa-Maria della Scala, Milan, which, at the time when this church was destroyed and replaced by the theatre of La Scala, was taken away and carried to the Church of Santa-Fidelia, where it still remains; a series of portraits of the Popes after St. Leo, a collection of which a large portion perished in the fire of St. Paul-extra-Muros, Rome (Fig. 240); and lastly, the paintings in the vaults of the Cathedral of Aquila.