Chapter L: Costa F (5)

It is apparent that by this period the art of Holland was marked by mechanical inventions, the surface of these eighteenth-century paintings being highly fused and metallic in appearance. The four panels of Adriaen van der Werff (1659-1722), which include an unpleasant _Magdalene in the Desert_ (No. 2617) and a repulsive _Dancing Nymph_ (No. 2619), are characteristic examples of his monotonous art. The _Disembarkation of Cleopatra_ (No. 2441) and the _Hercules between Vice and Virtue_ (No. 2443) of Gerard de Lairesse (1640-1711), have the enamel-like smoothness and meaningless expression of academic art, although they have their usefulness as museum pieces.

It is a remarkable fact that the Louvre does not contain a single example of the revival of art in Holland in the third quarter of the nineteenth century.

THE EARLY FRENCH SCHOOL

The early phases of the French school of painting—perhaps it would be more correct to say of painting in France—present one of the most interesting problems to the student of art history. It was not really until the great Exhibition of French Primitives held in Paris in 1904 that any serious attempts were made to construct a history of Early French painting; but the learned arguments that have been brought to bear upon the tangled question have so far failed to establish the existence of an important autochthonous school in the fifteenth century. It is true that contemporary records mention the names of a few painters who seem to have enjoyed great repute at the Courts at which they were employed, but it has been impossible to connect any notable extant pictures with their names; whilst those other “French” painters who have left tangible proofs of their activity are almost without exception of Flemish birth and training. Indeed, most of these early pictures show no characteristics that may be described as French, save the types of the faces, which would naturally be taken from the country where the artists worked.

The difficulty of dealing with the Early French pictures at the Louvre is considerably increased by the uncertainty of their authorship, the attributions being in most cases tentative and much disputed. Throughout we feel the lack of a definite basis for comparative criticism—the absence of properly authenticated works by the very masters whose names have been recorded in contemporary documents. One of the earliest of these masters is Jean Malouel, a Fleming, whose real name was Malwaele, and who worked in the service of the Dukes of Burgundy at Dijon, where he died in 1415. To him has been attributed, without sufficient proof, the tondo of _The Dead Christ supported by the Eternal Father_ (No. 996) and mourned by the Virgin, St. John and Angels.

Equally uncertain is the attribution of the _Last Communion and Martyrdom of St. Denis, First Bishop of Paris_ (No. 995), on which are seen, against a gold background, in the centre, the Crucified Saviour and the Eternal Father surrounded by cherubs; on the left, Christ giving the Communion to the imprisoned bishop, with a praying angel in the foreground; and on the right, the Decollation of St. Denis and his two companions, St. Rusticus and St. Eleutherius. An attempt has been made to identify this interesting picture with one ordered by Jean-sans-Peur, Duke of Burgundy, from Jean Malouel, and finished after that master’s death by Henri Bellechose, another Flemish painter, born in Brabant, who worked at Dijon between 1415 and 1431.

_The Entombment_ (No. 997) is the work of an unknown and presumably Flemish painter, who shows a certain affinity with the painter of the famous _Parement d’autel de Narbonne_ (No. 1342 _bis_) of about 1374. This altar-front is supposed to be by Girard d’Orléans and his son Jean, under whose name both the _Parement_ and the _Entombment_ were shown at the Exhibition of French Primitives in 1904. But all these attributions are largely conjectural.

THE MAÎTRE DE MOULINS

Chauvinistic French critics have made much capital out of the important national school that is supposed to have flourished towards the end of the fifteenth century at Moulins, and especially of the mysterious “Maître de Moulins,” so called from a famous triptych at Moulins which cannot be proved to be the work of a French painter, and shows very marked Italian characteristics, although the types of the faces are distinctly French. Italian painters had been working in France ever since Simone Martini (1285?-1344) was employed to decorate the Pope’s Palace at Avignon; and in the absence of definite documentary evidence it will always remain a difficult matter to decide whether certain pictures, Italian in style and French as regards the types, are the work of Italian masters painting in France, or of Frenchmen trained by Italians.

To the Maître de Moulins have been loosely ascribed certain pictures in the Louvre collection, especially since attempts have been made, in the face of great improbability, to identify him with Jehan Perréal, or Jehan de Paris, one of the few painters of that period whose French nationality has been satisfactorily established. Perréal was born at Lyons, and became Court painter in Paris to Charles VIII. and Louis XII. In this capacity he was sent to England at the time of the marriage of Louis XII. with Princess Mary Tudor, to design the bride’s toilettes. If Perréal be the painter of _The Virgin between Two Donors_ (No. 998D, formerly No. 1048, and now labelled No. —48), which bears upon the pilasters of a balustrade the letters “I P,” he is certainly not identical with the Maître de Moulins to whom have been attributed the portraits of _Pierre II., Sire de Beaujeu, Son-in-Law of Louis XI._ (No. 1004), and his wife, _Anne of France, Duchess of Bourbon, Daughter of Louis XI._ (No. 1005), which are apparently the wings of a triptych of which the centre panel has disappeared. They are utterly lacking in charm of colour and are anything but masterly in treatment. Both the personages are portrayed kneeling, the husband being presented by his Patron Saint and the wife by St. John the Evangelist. The _Portrait of Pierre_ was bought in 1842 by Louis Philippe for £20. The companion panel was presented to the Louvre in 1888 by M. Maciet. M. L. Dimier has rightly pointed out that there is no evidence whatever to prove these two pictures to have been painted by a French master. _The Virgin between Two Donors_ (No. 998D) has lately been tentatively attributed to the “Master of the Ursula Legend.”

THE DE SOMZÉE “MAGDALEN”

To the Maître de Moulins has also been attributed the somewhat overrated _Magdalen with a Female Donor_ (No. 1005A), which was formerly in the de Somzée collection at Brussels, and was, some time after the Exhibition of French Primitives in 1904, bought from Messrs. T. Agnew & Son for £5000. The supposed similarities that have been noticed between this picture and the Moulins triptych on the one hand, and Jehan Perréal’s authenticated design for the tomb of the Duke of Brittany at Rennes on the other hand, are not sufficiently convincing either to arrive at a definite conclusion as regards the authorship of this _Magdalen_, or to establish the identity of the Maître de Moulins with Jehan Perréal.

Of an even more problematic nature are the _Pietà_ (No. 998C, formerly No. 998) and the _Calvary_ (No. 998A), of which it is only safe to affirm that both were painted in France, the background showing in the case of the former the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the Seine, the Louvre, and the Butte Montmartre; and in the latter an equally distinguishable view of the Seine, the Louvre, and other buildings. Both pictures appear to be the work of Flemish painters who were not entirely uninfluenced by Italian art. This _Calvary_ is labelled “_Retable du Parliament de Paris_,” and was formerly in the Palais de Justice in Paris.

We need not dwell at any length upon the school of Douai, which should be considered as a branch of the Flemish rather than a national French school. Jean Bellegambe (_c._ 1470-1535) is its chief representative, and presumably the author of the small wing of a triptych depicting the figure of _St. Adrian_ (No. 13A) which was formerly catalogued as being of the German school (No. 2739).

JEAN FOUQUET

Of far greater importance is the school which flourished at Tours, for here at last we meet with clearly marked personalities whose names are definitely connected with extant works, even if the character of their art remains essentially Flemish. The best known artist of this group is Jean Fouquet (_c._ 1425-1480?), who was Painter to Charles VII. and Louis XI. and wrought the wonderful miniatures in the famous Book of Hours at Chantilly. He was distinctly more successful as an illuminator than as a painter, although his masterpiece, the Chevalier diptych (of which one wing is at the Antwerp and the other at the Berlin Museum), is a work of considerable merit. The Louvre owns an interesting painting from his brush—the portrait of the corpulent Chancellor of France, _Guillaume Juvénal des Ursins, Baron de Trainel_ (No. 288). He is depicted in three-quarter profile to the right, dressed in a fur-edged red robe, with hands folded in prayer, before an open book on a cushion. The pilasters in the rich architectural setting terminate in two bears supporting the Chancellor’s coat of arms. This important picture was bought in 1835 for the sum of £36. It was then attributed to Michael Wohlgemuth!

Fouquet is known to have painted Charles VII. in 1444; but the _Portrait of Charles VII., King of France_ (No. 289), with the inscription along the top, “LE TRÈS GLORIEUX ROY DE FRANCE,” and below, “CHARLES SEPTIESME DE CE NOM,” cannot certainly be identified with the picture referred to in contemporary records. The Louvre picture was acquired in 1838 for £18.

The name of Jean Fouquet has for a long time been connected with the admirable little portrait known as _The Man with the Wineglass_ (No. 1000, formerly No. 1000A). It was shown as a work of Fouquet at the Exhibition of French Primitives; and the attribution is still maintained by many French critics, although in the official Catalogue the picture is given to an Unknown French painter of the fifteenth century known as “The Master of 1456” from a dated picture in the Liechtenstein Gallery in Vienna. The whole style of the painting would, however, point to German origin, the only thing French about the picture being the type of the personage represented. It is interesting to note that this portrait, which was bought from a Paris dealer in 1906 for £7600, was formerly in the collection of Count Wilczek in Vienna, and was bought by its former owner at Ulm. It is probably the work of a painter of the Swabian school.

NICOLAS FROMENT

Nicolas Froment, the painter of the diptych _King René and his Second Wife, Jeanne de Laval_ (No. 304A), is frequently mentioned by those who have constituted themselves champions of a supposed important Early French national school. The few pictures with which he may be credited include the _St. Siffrein_, now in the Seminary at Avignon, the _Raising of Lazarus_, now in the Kaufmann collection at Berlin, and the _Burning Bush_, which includes the Portraits of King René and Jeanne de Laval, as the Donors who ordered the picture for the Cathedral at Aix, where it still is. But the Louvre diptych is an inferior work. Nothing is known about the dates of his birth and death. He flourished between 1460 and 1480, and was employed by good King René, who was himself a painter of some distinction, if contemporary chroniclers are to be believed. Froment died at Avignon, where he appears to have worked some considerable time, allowing his art to absorb those distinctly Italian tendencies which distinguished the productions of the Avignon school ever since Simone Martini had early in the fourteenth century worked in the Provençal city of the Popes.

A very typical instance of this Avignon school, with its blending of Northern realism and the noble sense of style of the early Italians, is the _Pietà_ (No. 1001B). The group of the Virgin with the rigid body of Christ across her knees, St. John on the left and the Magdalen on the right, has a sculpturesque dignity and grandeur not to be found in the Northern art of that period. The Donor on the extreme left rather destroys the balance of the composition. The mourners and the landscape are silhouetted against a gold background. The picture was formerly in the Chartreuse of Villeneuve near Avignon, and was bought by the Société des Amis du Louvre for the great French national collection at the price of £4000. A well-known Spanish critic has claimed that this is one of the very rare works by the Spanish artist Bartolomé Bermejo.

Of the same school, but vastly inferior in conception and execution, is the much restored _Christ rising from the Tomb, with a Donor and St. Agricola_ (No. 1001C). There are in Gallery X. (Salle Jean Fouquet) a few more anonymous fifteenth-century paintings, which need not here be discussed as they are of no real significance.

THE SIXTEENTH-CENTURY FRENCH SCHOOL

The mere fact that many of the drawings and paintings which are now with good reason believed to be the work of Jean or Jehan Clouet (called Jehannet) passed, at a time when art criticism followed methods less scientific than those which prevail at present, under the name of Holbein, should suffice to indicate that Clouet’s art belongs essentially to the Renaissance, and that the Primitive or Gothic period had come to a close when he arrived in France from the Netherlands, where he was born about 1475. He apparently worked first at Tours, where his presence in 1516 is testified by documentary evidence; and he went to Paris before 1529. Although he was never naturalised, he became Groom of the Chamber to François I., and enjoyed an enormous reputation for his skill in portraiture. He died in 1540 or 1541.

JEAN CLOUET’S DRAWINGS

Not a single drawing or painting that has come down to us from this period, which was remarkable for its enormous production in Court portraiture, bears the signature of Jehan Clouet; but as a number of the best portrait drawings in the famous Chantilly collection—notably that of the _Preux de Marignan_—are obviously from the same hand, and extend, as can be proved from the age of the personages portrayed, from 1514 to 1540,—the very years when Jean Clouet is known to have worked in France,—it is quite reasonable to assume that artist to be the author of this group of drawings. Their superiority over all the other drawings of the period would account for the fame enjoyed by the elder Clouet among his contemporaries.

On the strength of these drawings it has been possible to ascribe to Jean Clouet a few painted portraits which are obviously based on the drawings and show, apart from such differences as must necessarily result from the use of a different medium, the same characteristics—firm draughtsmanship, a sure delicate touch in the delineation of the features, and also a certain stiffness and hardness of contour which are never to be found in the otherwise very similar but always supple and masterly handling of Holbein. It is now known that practically all the painted portraits of the period were executed from the delicate drawings in black and red chalk, of which so vast a number have come down to our day. But the fact that the vast majority of these drawings served as models to different painters leaves the question of attribution in a state of uncertainty. The mere tracing back of a picture to some extant drawing of acknowledged authenticity cannot be taken as proof of their common origin.

Two pictures at the Louvre are attributed to Jean Clouet. Both are portraits of _François I., King of France_, but only the smaller one (No. 127) appears to be from his hand. Clouet’s royal patron is here depicted in three-quarter profile to the right, at the age of about thirty, so that the picture may be assumed to have been painted about the year 1524. It is based on a drawing in the Chantilly collection. The larger _Portrait of François I._ (No. 126) has at various times been attributed to Jean Clouet, Mabuse, and Joost van Cleef, but is, as has been pointed out by M. Dimier, pronouncedly Italian in colour and in the treatment of the costume and hands.

FRANÇOIS CLOUET

Towards the end of his life Jean Clouet was assisted in the execution of his numerous commissions by his brother Clouet de Navarre, to whom is attributed the _Portrait of Louis de Saint-Gelais, Lord of Lansac, Captain of one of the “Compagnies des cent Gentilshommes” under Charles IX._ (No. 134), and by his son François Clouet (1500?-1572). It has been stated that François Clouet, who was to become after his father’s death the favourite portrait painter of François I., Henri II., Catherine de Médicis, François II., and Charles IX., was born at Tours; but it is far more likely that he too was born in the Netherlands, and, while still young, accompanied his father to France. Practically nothing is known of his life before the year 1541, when François I. renounced to Clouet his kingly right to the artist’s inheritance, which could have been claimed by the Crown as the estate of a foreigner. In the same year François Clouet was appointed Groom of the Chamber and Painter-in-Ordinary to the King.

The Louvre is fortunate in possessing one of the exceedingly rare signed pictures by this artist in the _Portrait of Pierre Quthe_ (No. 127A), which was found in Vienna a few years ago by M. Moreau-Nélaton and presented to the Gallery by that active and patriotic institution, the Société des Amis du Louvre. Pierre Quthe was a notable burgher and apothecary of Paris, who owned one of the finest gardens in that city. He was an intimate friend and neighbour of François Clouet in the rue St. Avoye. In the Louvre painting, which bears in the left-hand bottom corner the inscription

FR. IANETII OPVS
E. QUTTO AMICO SINGVLARI
AETATIS SVE XLIII 1562

he is depicted three-quarter-length life size, dressed in a doublet of black velvet with lace insertions, with a herbarium. The picture hangs at present on a screen in Gallery XV.

Another unquestionably authentic work is the charming _Portrait of Elizabeth of Austria, Wife of Charles IX._ (No. 130), of which a preparatory study in chalk, dated 1571, is to be found in the Paris Print Cabinet. The face is drawn and modelled with rare delicacy, and every detail of the richly jewelled gold brocade costume is rendered with faultless and miniature-like precision.

Yet another precious little picture from the same hand is the small three-quarter-length _Portrait of Charles IX., King of France_ (No. 128), which is a reduced replica of the signed life-size version in the Vienna Museum. Both pictures were originally in Vienna, whence they were removed by Napoleon in 1809, but only the larger picture was taken back to the Austrian capital in 1815.

The _Portrait of Claude de Beaune_ (No. 133A) is possibly another, though not very important, work from the master’s own brush; but neither the _Portrait of François de Lorraine, Duc de Guise_ (No. 131), nor the _Portrait of Henri II., King of France_ (No. 129), are of sufficient merit to justify their attribution to François Clouet; whilst the portraits of _Charles IX._ (No. 132) and _Elizabeth of Austria_ (No. 133) are frankly admitted to be copies after originals by the master.

CORNEILLE DE LYON

François Clouet’s chief rival in royal favour was another Netherlander domiciled in France, who, from the city in which he spent the years of his greatest activity, has become known as Corneille de Lyon. He was apparently the head of a busy workshop at Lyons, from which were turned out large numbers of thinly painted, daintily touched-in three-quarter profile heads, executed almost transparently on a light ground. Although these portraits are now generally described under the generic name of Corneille de Lyon, only the best among them can be accepted as the master’s own handiwork. Room XI. at the Louvre contains several insignificant and badly repainted portraits of this type. They are of no importance, as they are only copies or studio productions. Corneille became naturalised in 1547, in which year he was appointed Painter to the King. He died about 1575.

THE SCHOOL OF FONTAINEBLEAU

The death of Perréal and Bourdichon a few years after the accession of François I. had left France without any artists of note, save the few foreign portrait painters employed by the Court. François I., an enthusiastic art lover, who had seen and admired the great Italian masters in their own country, spared no effort to attract the leading masters to France. We have seen that he actually succeeded in securing the services of the aged Leonardo da Vinci, and that for a brief span Andrea del Sarto worked at his Court. When, about 1530, that art-loving king turned his attention to the decoration of his palace at Fontainebleau, there was not a single painter of French nationality, or artist living in France, who could have been entrusted with so formidable a task, and François I. was again forced to enlist the best Italian painters available for the purpose. Having first engaged Pellegrino and other third-rate artists, he succeeded, in 1531, in inducing the Florentine Rosso to undertake the execution and supervision of the decorative work at Fontainebleau; and in the following year the Bolognese Primaticcio entered his service. Both belong to the Italian eclectic schools, and only concern us here in so far as their example led to the founding of what has been called the “School of Fontainebleau,” which was really an offshoot of the Italian eclectic school.

In the early years of Rosso’s and Primaticcio’s activity at Fontainebleau practically all the work was done by these two painters and their Italian assistants, whose band was joined by Niccolò dell’ Abbate. It was only after the death of François I. that the teaching of the Italian eclectics at Fontainebleau produced a generation of French artists capable of doing justice to the decorative tasks for which an ever-increasing demand had meanwhile arisen. That the Louvre is singularly poor in works by these painters may partly be accounted for by the comparative scarcity of easel pictures painted by artists who were chiefly employed for interior decoration. There is no reason for crediting any Frenchmen with the three anonymous school of Fontainebleau pictures in Gallery XI.: _Diana_ (No. 1013), _The Chastity of Scipio_ (No. 1014), and _The Toilet of Venus_ (No. 1014A). _The Chastity of Scipio_ in particular would appear to be the work of Niccolò dell’ Abbate.

JEAN COUSIN

The most famous of all the French painters of the school is Jean Cousin, who from the _Last Judgment_ (No. 155) at the Louvre—the only known painting from his brush that has been preserved—has been called “The French Michelangelo.” Nothing is known of his life, save that he was born at Soucy, near Sens, that he worked in Paris in the third quarter of the sixteenth century, and that he was still alive in 1583. Comparison of his picture with Michelangelo’s great work in the Sistine Chapel only helps to accentuate the absurd over-estimation to which he owes his sobriquet. He was merely a follower of Primaticcio, an excellent draughtsman with great knowledge of anatomy, but lacking in taste, imagination, and real power.

Ambroise Dubois (1543-1614) was born at Antwerp, but is generally counted among the French painters of the school of Fontainebleau. He was entrusted by Henri IV. with several important series of paintings for the decoration of the apartments at Fontainebleau, notably with eight scenes illustrating Tasso’s “_Gerusalemme Liberata_” for one of the Queen’s rooms, and fifteen scenes from “_Theogenes and Chariclea_” by Heliodorus for the “King’s Great Closet.” One from each series has found its way into the Louvre collection: _The Baptism of Clorinda_ (No. 272), and _Chariclea, undergoing the Ordeal of Fire, is recognised by her Parents, King Hydaspes and Queen Persina_ (No. 271).

The only other painter of this group who is represented at the Louvre is Martin Fréminet (1567-1619), who was only indirectly connected with the school of Fontainebleau, as he had received his art education in Florence. His best known work is the ceiling of the Trinity Chapel at Fontainebleau. His picture at the Louvre represents _Mercury ordering Æneas to leave Dido_ (No. 304).

The decline of the school of Fontainebleau was so rapid and complete that, when Marie de Médicis decided to have the great gallery of the Luxembourg Palace decorated, in 1620, there was not a single painter left in France capable to undertake this important work, which was eventually entrusted to Rubens. But the whole direction to be taken by French seventeenth-century art had been determined by François I., and the influence of the Late Italians remained paramount until the dawn of the new era which was to be initiated by Watteau.

THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY FRENCH SCHOOL

Throughout the seventeenth century the impulse for the artistic activity of France emanated from Rome. But before discussing the dominating personalities of the age we must refer to a few painters who occupy a more or less isolated position in the art of their country.

The naturalism of Caravaggio was introduced into France by two of his followers, Jean de Boulongne, called Le Valentin (1591-1634), and Simon Vouet (1590-1649), who was also slightly influenced by the Venetians. Valentin spent the best part of his life in Rome, where he died in 1634. The Louvre owns, among eight pictures from his brush (not all of which are exhibited), his masterpiece, _The Innocence of Susannah recognised_ (No. 56), which has the vigorous handling and bold chiaroscuro of the Neapolitan school.

Simon Vouet, who came to England at the age of fifteen, and subsequently travelled in Turkey and Italy, where he remained until his appointment as Painter to the King took him back to Paris in 1627, tried to combine the naturalism of Caravaggio with the colouring of the Venetians, an endeavour in which he was only partially successful, as he was not equipped by nature with a sensuous appreciation of beautiful colour. The Louvre owns a dozen Scriptural subjects and allegorical figures by Vouet; but even the best of them, _The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple_ (No. 971), is but a dull and heavy performance; whilst his _Portrait of Louis XIII._ (No. 976) is wholly devoid of artistic merit. Perhaps he owes his fame chiefly to the fact that he was the master of the absurdly overrated Le Sueur and of that art despot of the Louis XIV. era, Charles Le Brun.

THE BROTHERS LE NAIN

Of far greater artistic significance are the three brothers, Antoine, Louis, and Matthieu Le Nain, who were born at Laon, and flourished in Paris during the first half of the seventeenth century. Antoine and Louis died in 1648, and Matthieu in 1677. Very little is known of their history, but the splendid array of their works in Gallery XIII. proves them to have had close affinities with the contemporary Dutch and Flemish schools, even if their manner of composition suggests close acquaintance with Spanish art. Their subjects, too, like those of many of the Northern masters of their time, are taken from the daily life of the people, which is rendered with naïve honesty, and at times with a real appreciation of beautiful pigment. So far it has been impossible to distinguish between the works of the three brothers, as even the signatures “LE NAIN, fecit 1647,” on the _Portraits in an Interior_ (No. 543), and “LE NAIN, fecit anno 1642,” on the _Peasants at their Meal_ (No. 548, La Caze Gallery), afford no clue to the solution of the problem. The striking differences in brushwork and colouring, which are to be noticed in the eleven Le Nain pictures at the Louvre, would certainly suggest that the three brothers did not, or did only rarely, collaborate on the same pictures. The painter of _The Return from Haymaking_ (No. 542), with its prophetic suggestion of the _plein-air_ effects of late nineteenth-century art, cannot have had much in common with the painter of the dull and dingy _Denial of St. Peter_ (No. 547).

NICOLAS POUSSIN

The founder of the Classicist school of French painting, which has had official approval and support from his time to the present day, was Nicolas Poussin (1594-1665). Born at Les Andelys in Normandy, he went to Paris at the age of eighteen, and became so fascinated by the examples of antique sculpture that, in spite of his extreme poverty, he determined to continue his studies in Rome. It is unnecessary here to relate the struggles that preceded his arrival at Rome in 1624. He frequented the school of Domenichino; but what was more decisive for the formation of his style was his unceasing study of antique sculpture, in which he was guided and encouraged by his friend, the sculptor Duquesnoy. After some years of continued poverty, he found at last liberal patronage, and rose to such fame that on his return to Paris in 1640 he was appointed Painter-in-Ordinary to the King. However, the duties and restrictions attached to this position proved so irksome to Poussin, that after two years he returned to Rome, where he spent the rest of his life.

At the Louvre is to be found an imposing array of forty canvases by Poussin, whose art is as typical an expression of French genius as the poetry of Corneille. It is essentially intellectual, based on theoretical rules of design and composition, not in the least sensuous or emotional, but always coldly classical. The vast majority of his paintings at the Louvre are in such a deplorable state of deterioration and neglect that it is almost impossible to form an adequate idea of their original colour, but even the most ardent admirers of the master do not maintain that he was a great colourist. His pictures are entirely dependent on beauty of form and rhythmic design. They might almost be described as painted reliefs. This applies at least to his treatment of the human figure. His conception of landscape, though still severely classical, is more pictorial and testifies to a genuine love of Nature—Nature idealised by a lofty imagination. To appreciate his greatness as a landscape painter, one has only to examine the glorious setting to his _Orpheus and Eurydice_ (No. 740). The figures here are really of quite subordinate importance—mere incidents in a landscape painted with consummate mastery, perfect in linear and aerial perspective.

_The Shepherds in Arcadia_ (No. 734, Plate XXXVII.) may be quoted to illustrate the calculated rhythm of his design and his indebtedness to classic art from which he derived his nobility of form. Real dramatic action was beyond Poussin’s range. His famous _Rape of the Sabine Women_ (No. 724) is a striking instance of his failure to grasp the significant difference between dramatic movement and mere heroic posturing. Far more inspired, and therefore more natural and dramatically effective, is the superb circular painting for a ceiling commissioned by Cardinal Richelieu and representing _Time rescuing Truth from the Attacks of Envy and Discord_ (No. 735). The allegory is said to have been intended as an allusion to the circumstances which induced Poussin to leave Paris for good. The design has more real vitality than is generally to be found in Poussin’s work; the action of the figures is more natural; and the colour music is not drowned by the prevalence of dingy browns. The decorative effect heralds in a strange way the art of the next century, and particularly that of Boucher.

To see Poussin in the right perspective as regards the world’s great masters, one need only compare his two _Bacchanals_ (Nos. 729 and 730) with Titian’s rendering of a similar theme. The comparison is disastrous for the eclectic Frenchman. A _Portrait of the Painter_ (No. 743) from Poussin’s own brush is to be found in Room XIV., where no fewer than thirty-seven of his pictures are on view.

(1594-1665)

FRENCH SCHOOL

No. 734.—THE SHEPHERDS IN ARCADIA

(Les Bergers d’Arcadie)

In the centre of a landscape with receding ranges of hills, three
shepherds, leaning on their long staves, and a maiden in classic
garb, are gathered around an ancient tomb surrounded by trees.
An inscription on the tomb, “_Et in Arcadia Ego_,” engages their
attention. One of the shepherds is kneeling and reading the
inscription to his companion on the left, whilst the third man of
the group leans forward to point out to the maiden the significance
of the inscription.

Painted in oil on canvas.

2 ft. 9½ in. × 3 ft. 11½ in. (0·85 × 1·21.)]

CLAUDE LORRAIN

Strangely enough, the otherwise very complete collection of French pictures at the Louvre does not contain a single example of Poussin’s brother-in-law, Gaspard Dughet, better known as Gaspard Poussin (1613-1675), who devoted himself more exclusively to landscape than did his more illustrious relative. Nicolas Poussin’s influence also became decisive for the formation of the style of Claude Gellée, called Le Lorrain (1600-1682), who is represented at the Louvre by seventeen pictures (Nos. 310-326), most of which also have suffered considerably from discoloration and neglect. Claude, who was the child of poor parents, started life as a cook. In this capacity he went to Rome, where his talent for art was discovered by the landscape painter Agostino Tassi, to whom he served as cook and apprentice. Having learned all he could from his master, he returned to France in 1625, but, like Poussin, preferred to go back to Rome after two years spent in his native country. In the Papal city he lived the rest of his days, and rose to fame and affluence.

He was essentially a landscape painter. The historical and legendary incidents introduced in such pictures as _The Disembarkation of Cleopatra at Tarsis_ (No. 314), or _Ulysses restoring Chryseis to her Father_ (No. 316), were to him a mere excuse for painting classic landscapes and imaginary buildings of noble proportion bathed in a golden atmosphere, which has hardly been rivalled by any contemporary or later painter. It is only on rare occasions, as in the _View of the Campo Vaccino at Rome_ (No. 311), that he applied his gifts to the portrayal of nature. As a rule, his views are carefully arranged combinations of architectural and landscape elements brought together arbitrarily, and generally disposed in the manner of the wings and backcloth of a stage scene, but connected by the unity of light and atmosphere. Considering this method, it is amazing that his memory enabled him to invent such imaginary scenes with so great a degree of truth. _The View of a Sea Port_ (No. 317, Plate XXXVIII.), in the subdued light of a misty day, is a magnificent instance of his masterly management of aerial perspective. It is signed and dated “CLAUDE IN ROMA, 1646.” It is generally known how much Turner in his first manner owed to the example of Claude. That even Watteau was indebted to him may be gathered from such pictures as _The Village Fête_ (No. 312), which, signed and dated, “CLAUDIO, inv. Romæ, 1639,” contains in germ the elements that constituted the greatness of the eighteenth-century master.

LE SUEUR

Whilst Poussin and Claude were working in Rome, two pupils of Vouet reaped the highest honours in France. Eustache Le Sueur (1617-1655), whom his compatriots in their incomprehensible over-estimation of his mediocre gifts have called the “French Raphael,” certainly strove to emulate the divine Urbinate; but how badly he succeeded in this endeavour is to be gathered from the fifty-two paintings, by the placing of which his memory is retained at the Louvre. What dignity there is in the simple flow of line in his designs, is completely ruined by the offensive crudeness of his colour. Even allowing for the inevitable fluctuations of taste in matters of art, it is difficult now to understand how enthusiasm could ever have been aroused by the works that were considered his masterpieces, _St. Paul preaching at Ephesus_ (No. 560), which at the beginning of last century was valued at £10,000 (!), and the twenty-two _Scenes from the Life of St. Bruno_ (Nos. 564-585), painted between 1645 and 1648 for the small cloister of the Carthusians in Paris. This series, which is a severe tax on the patience of the conscientious visitor, fills the whole of Gallery XII., whilst other paintings connected with it intrude into the adjoining room, which is consecrated to the brothers Le Nain.

(1600-1682)

FRENCH SCHOOL

No. 317.—VIEW OF A SEAPORT

(Vue d’un Port de Mer: Effet de Brume)

In the foreground, on the beach, are groups of men occupied with
unloading merchandise and cattle. Sailing ships are at anchor in
the port, and boats are floating on the rippling water. On the left
a monumental staircase leads from the landing-steps to a palace,
beyond which is seen a fort; a classic temple on the right. Sunset
effect, the power of the sun being softened by a mist over the far
distance.

Painted in oil on canvas.

Signed on a stone in the left foreground:—“CLAUDE IN ROMA, 1646”

3 ft. 10¾ in. × 4 ft. 11 in. (1·19 × 1·50.)]

Before passing on to Vouet’s most famous pupil, Charles Le Brun, whose despotic power imposed upon French painting during the “_grand siècle_” its pompous rhetorical character, mention should be made of Sébastien Bourdon (1616-1671), who, but for his prolonged sojourn in Rome, which fed his ambition to excel in the “grand style,” would have been one of the most remarkable artists of his century. This conclusion is, at least, justified by his precious little painting of a group of _Beggars_ (No. 76), which is perhaps unrivalled in French seventeenth-century art for quality of paint and appreciation of tone values; and by his excellent _Portrait of the Philosopher René Descartes_ (No. 78), who was also painted by Frans Hals (No. 2383). In his treatment of scriptural and historical subjects he does not rise above the dull level of his contemporaries.

CHARLES LE BRUN

Charles Le Brun (1619-1690) studied first under Vouet, but, attracted by Poussin’s stronger personality, followed that master to Rome in 1642, and continued his studies under his guidance. When Le Brun returned to Paris four years later, his reputation was already firmly established. Patronised by Louis XIV.’s powerful minister, Colbert, he was placed at the head of the newly founded Academy of Painting, and of the Gobelins Manufactory, became First Painter to the King and “Prince” of the French Academy in Rome; and was, in fact, given absolute power in all matters concerning the fostering of the arts and art industries. This despotic power explains how it was possible that Le Brun, who notwithstanding his brilliant executive skill and extraordinary facility never rose above the level of mediocrity, could impose his uninspired personality upon every phase of French artistic activity of his time.

His enormous canvases at the Louvre, which probably occupy more space than has been allotted to any other painter, vainly endeavour to conceal the lack of real emotion and of a central motif by theatrical gestures and overcrowding. His masterpiece at the Louvre is _The Tent of Darius_ (No. 511), which represents the family of Darius imploring Alexander the Great for mercy. But even here one feels the absence of dramatic inspiration and concentration. Less successful are the other scenes from the history of Alexander: _The Passage of the Granicus_ (No. 509), _The Battle of Arbela_ (No. 510), _Alexander and Porus_ (No. 512), _Alexander entering Babylon_ (No. 513). The whole series was painted between 1661 and 1668 for execution in tapestry and was exhibited at the Salon in 1673, the year in which for the first time an official catalogue was compiled. Besides many scriptural and mythological subjects, and a few portraits from Le Bran’s brush, there are at the Louvre his decorative paintings on the ceiling of the Galerie d’Apollon in which the magnificent centre panel was added two centuries later by Delacroix.

PIERRE MIGNARD

Le Bran’s successor in the direction of the Academy and the Gobelin works, Pierre Mignard (1612-1695), called “Le Romain” owing to his long domicile in Rome after the completion of his studies under Vouet, did not have his precursor’s large decorative faculty and sweeping ease of execution. Yet the excessively affected grace and the careful finish of his pictures, of which _The Virgin of the Grapes_ (No. 628) is a thoroughly characteristic instance, helped to raise him to an exalted position in the opinion of his contemporaries. To this day the affected style of prettiness of which he was the high priest is known as “_mignardise_.” His power was altogether insufficient for the ambitious decorative tasks he set himself in emulation of Le Brun. If he has any claim to the esteem of posterity, it is for having left the world a portrait gallery of the notable men and women of his time—portraits which are by no means free from flattery and mannered grace, but constitute, nevertheless, a valuable historical record. Of these the Louvre owns the _Portrait of the Artist at Work in his Studio_ (No. 640); the _Portrait of Françoise d’Aubigne, Marquise de Maintenon_ (No. 639); and the life-size group of _Louis of France, Son of Louis XIV., his Wife, and their three Children_ (No. 638).

Colbert and Le Brun had succeeded but too well in carrying out the powerful minister’s ambition to direct French art towards industrial and decorative aims, to train an army of capable producers, and to place the whole organisation on what may be called a business basis. The system was, however, not favourable for the growth of independent genius. With few exceptions, the whole generation of painters that grew up under Le Brun’s régime are of no significance to the history of art. There were among them many capable craftsmen, but they only repeated in a feebler way what Le Brun had done on a more imposing and dazzling scale. Whole dynasties of painters arose, like the Boulognes and the Coypels, who, under official patronage, filled acres of canvas with florid, theatrical renderings of scriptural subjects, and with the bombastic mock-heroics of classic history and mythology seen through baroque spectacles.

LE BRUN’S FOLLOWERS

It would be giving undue importance to these painters of the Louis XIV. period if we were to go beyond a mere enumeration of their leaders and their chief works at the Louvre. None of them possessed any marked individuality; and most of them were linked together, not only by similar aims and ambitions, but also by family ties. Four members of the Coypel family rose to great eminence among their fellow-artists, and to important official positions. Noël Coypel (1628-1707), the painter of the four historical compositions, _Solon defending his Laws before the Athenians_ (No. 157), _Ptolomy Philadelphus giving the Jews their Freedom_ (No. 158), _Trajan giving a Public Audience_ (No. 159), and the _Foresight of Septimus Severus_ (No. 160), all of which were originally executed for the Council Chamber at Versailles; his sons Antoine Coypel (1661-1722), whose best known pictures at the Louvre are the _Susannah and the Elders_ (No. 169) and the _Democritos_ (No. 174), which recalls Jordaens in its exuberant life, and Noël Nicolas Coypel (1692-1734), whose goddesses and nymphs already reflect the taste which dominated the eighteenth century; as well as Antoine’s son, Charles Antoine Coypel (1694-1752), whose uninspired art may best be studied in the _Perseus delivering Andromeda_ (No. 180).

_The Triumph of Bacchus_ (No. 447) and _The Annunciation_ (No. 445), by Charles de La Fosse (1636-1716); _Hercules fighting the Centaurs_ (No. 53), by Bon Boulogne (1649-1717); and _The Marriage of St. Catherine_ (No. 55), by his brother Louis Boulogne (1654-1733), only serve to illustrate the mediocrity of their respective authors. The impersonality of Bon Boulogne’s art had at least the advantage that his teaching left free scope for personal expression to his many pupils.

Even the still-life painting of the “_grand siècle_,” which found its chief exponent in Jean Baptiste Monnoyer (1634-1699), partakes of the love of pomp and display that characterises this period. Gold and silver vases, precious stuffs and furniture generally accompany his flowers, which are painted without real appreciation of their natural beauty, and in purely local tints without a hint of the effect of each colour upon its surroundings. The _Flowers_ (No. 648), in the La Caze Gallery, may be mentioned as a typical example.

BATTLE PAINTERS

The battle painter, Jacques Courtois (1621-1676), called Borgognone and Le Bourguignon, though born in France, was so completely under the spell of the art of Italy, the country where he spent almost his entire life, that he can scarcely be reckoned as belonging to the French school. His furious cavalry _mêlées_, though entirely imaginative (as such confused encounters of horsemen piercing each other’s ranks have never taken place in actual warfare), are painted, like the _Cavalry Fight_ (No. 151), with a touch as swift as it is sure and expressive, and full of exuberant vitality.

Joseph Parrocel (1678-1704), who, during a prolonged visit to Rome had benefited by Borgognone’s teaching, could not, after his return to France in 1675, escape the current of thought which dominated his time, and introduced the stage-heroic note into his master’s sham realism. The glorification of his king is the purpose of such pictures as _The Passage of the Rhine by Louis XIV._ (No. 678). The chief interest is centred in the richly apparelled group on their prancing steeds in the foreground.

JEAN JOUVENET

_The Descent from the Cross_ (No. 437), by Jean Jouvenet (1644-1717), which has been honoured by a position among the masterpieces in the Salon Carré, is certainly one of the most estimable compositions produced in France during this active but uninspired century. Not only in the general disposition of the design, but also in the use of colour as a constructive element, Jouvenet here acknowledges his indebtedness to Rubens, although he could never rival the luminous glow of the great Fleming’s palette. Most of his other pictures suffer from dull heavy shadows and exaggerated expression. His strong and honest painting of the kneeling group in _The Abbé Delaporte officiating at the High Altar of Nôtre-Dame_ (No. 440), makes us regret that he did not devote himself more to subjects taken from the life of his time.

An artist who was less tied to the tyranny of the official school, and imbued with a really profound sense of the beautiful, was Jean Baptiste Santerre (1658-1717). The delicate perfection of form of the nude in _Susannah and the Elders_ (No. 835) approaches him to David and Ingres at their best. But this very perfection carries the germ of decay, because it is incapable of progress, and stagnation in art signifies death. As regards his technique, Santerre was extremely careful and conscientious. He reduced his palette to but five colours, and waited ten years after the completion of a picture before putting on the final coat of varnish.

THE PORTRAIT PAINTERS

The two great portrait painters who flourished under the “Grand Monarque,” Rigaud and Largillière, were preceded by an artist to whom, perhaps owing to the relative scarceness of his works, history has done but scant justice. Whilst the Louvre contains thirteen portraits by Largillière and seventeen by Rigaud, only two pictures stand to the name of Claude Lefebvre (1632-1675); but his _Portraits of a Master and his Pupil_ (No. 529) and the _Portrait of a Man_ (No. 530), are distinguished by a penetrating insight into character and an incisive vigour of style that form a striking contrast to the shallow bombast introduced even into portraiture by the fashionable painters to the Court. Lefebvre has been compared with Van Dyck. The _Portrait of a Man_ (No. 530) has more in common with the brilliant audacity of Frans Hals’s brushwork. Lefebvre worked for some years in London, where he was a favourite at the Court of Charles II.

Rigaud’s manner of portraiture has none of these serious, manly qualities, but his skill in arranging the sumptuous accessories which play so important a part in his portraits,—as important, at least, as the actual features of the sitters,—secured him the patronage of the pomp-loving, haughty nobility. Hyacinthe Rigaud y Ros (1659-1743) was born at Perpignan and educated at Montpellier and Lyons. It was the advice of Le Brun that saved him from the customary pilgrimage to Rome and its inevitable consequences. It was Le Brun who recognised Rigaud’s bent for portraiture, and launched him on the brilliant career which gained for him the title of “the French Van Dyck.” Rigaud was enormously productive. Between 1681 and 1698 he is said to have painted six hundred and twenty-three portraits. And he had then another forty-five years before him!

Rigaud’s best known picture at the Louvre is the stately _portrait d’apparat_ of _King Louis XIV._ (No. 781), a life-size full length, in which the spirit of the time, the curious blending of supercilious haughtiness, love of display, and affected grace of manner, are happily expressed in the monarch’s attitude and in the whole setting. The picture is signed and dated, “PEINT PAR HYACINTHE RIGAUD, 1701.” The same tendencies are to be noted in the full length _Portrait of Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux_ (No. 783), in which it is surprising that the prelate’s personality is not completely smothered by the splendid profusion of the accessories. His gifts appear, however, in a better light in his excellent _Portraits of Marie Serre, the Artist’s Mother_ (No. 784), with the same head, honestly and soberly painted, twice on the same canvas, once in sharp profile looking to the right, and again, facing this, a three-quarter profile to the left. Wholly unexpected is the delicacy and softness of one of his pictures in the La Caze Room: the _Portrait of the Duke of Lesdiguières as a Child_ (No. 792). His solitary excursion into the domain of “grand art” at the Louvre is at the same time his last work: _The Presentation in the Temple_ (No. 780), which in grouping and lighting owes much to the study of Rembrandt.

Nicolas de Largillière (1656-1746) was born in Paris, but was taken when still an infant to Antwerp, where he became a pupil of Goebouw. From 1674 to 1680 he worked in London as an assistant of Sir Peter Lely, from whom he acquired the clever tricks and mannerisms in the painting of draperies and the textures of silks and velvets and other materials, which were to form so important a part of his artistic equipment. After Lely’s death Largillière went to Paris, where he not only shared with Rigaud the patronage of the Court as portrait painter, but secured many important commissions for historical paintings which, perhaps to the advantage of his fame, are now all but forgotten. Largillière was not without distinction as a brilliant and daring colourist. Nor was he incapable, on occasion, of seizing the subtleties of his sitters’ character. But his praiseworthy qualities are more than balanced by his unpleasant affectations and by the baroque squirminess of his line. This tendency carried him to such insufferable excesses as the conglomeration of lumpy bosses which does duty for a hand in his _Portrait of M. Du Vaucel_ (No. 484), in the La Caze Room.

His boastful skill in the management of the satins and velvets in the overrated portrait group of _Largillière with his Wife and Daughter in a Garden_ (No. 491), cannot atone for the singularly unfortunate and clumsy composition, and for the self-conscious affectation of each individual pose. More satisfactory, in spite of the superabundance of accessories and outward pomp, which in this case is a fitting attribute to the character of the sitter, is the _Portrait of Charles Le Brun, First Painter to King Louis XIV._ (No. 482), who is depicted in a colossal wig, seated before an easel, and wearing a superbly painted red velvet cloak.

LANDSCAPE PAINTERS

It almost goes without saying that landscape art, which, even in its most artificial and “classic” phase is inspired by the love and study of nature, was sadly neglected in so artificial an age. Among its leading exponents must be mentioned the two Patels, father and son, of whose life we have but scant knowledge, and whose pictures resemble one another’s so closely that it is often difficult to determine which is by Pierre Patel, the father (1620?-1676), and which by Pierre Antoine Patel, the son (1648-1708), especially as both adopted the signature, “P. PATEL.” In the case of the older artist’s _The Exposure of Moses on the Nile_ (No. 680), and _Moses burying the Egyptian whom he had Slain_ (No. 681), and his son’s four landscapes representing the months, _January_ (No. 684), _April_ (No. 685), _August_ (No. 686), and _September_ (No. 687), all doubts are set aside by the dates which accompany the signature. Both artists were close followers of Claude Lorrain, although their precise technique suggests the influence of Adam Elsheimer.